Heart of a Savage

by Lashanta Charles

  Thankfully, I didn’t have to deal with Connor when I got home. I thought I’d need to sneak around late at night while Connor was out “working,” but Rory had left me a note saying he’d taken Connor home to be around real men. He hadn’t said for how long, but any time they went, they’d be gone at least a month, sometimes two. My only complaint is that they took Kaelen, too. I know Rory would have fought that, but Connor probably only agreed to go if he could take him. Hence my baking frenzy. I miss my baby and I want to have something to take to Dominic and his friends when I pop up at the self-defense class.

  WHEN I REACHED the gym, I sit there staring up at the sign. All-Star Mixed Martial Arts is proudly displayed on the front windows. Between the scripts I catch glimpses of people on the treadmills and elliptical machines, but only barely. The tint and the writing make visibility limited. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to see, because I know I’d have to go inside and down a hall for the classes as well as the boxing ring. It’s still a boxing ring, right? Technically, they box. I take three calming breaths, grab the containers filled with goodies, and jump out of my SUV before I can talk myself out of it.

  A woman, who hadn’t been here the last time I came, greets me from the reception desk.

  “Welcome to All-Star, are you new here?”

  I glance around, hoping to see one of the guys I’d met, or even Dominic, but the entry way is deserted. “I’m here for the 5 PM class.”

  “Oh! Just use your key fob and it’ll check you in.”

  She smiles warmly as she points to a scanner on the desk and I draw a blank. I look from her to the scanner.

  “Key fob?”

  “Yeah, when you signed up for a membership they told you to always register for the class online, right?”

  “Membership?” I shake my head slowly in confusion and her smile fades.

  “You probably won’t be able to get in this class then. Are you actually a member?”

  Again, a slow shake of my head. None of the guys said anything about registering. Then again, I wasn’t supposed to be here during the day.

  “Why won’t I be able to get in this class?”

  She rolls her eyes and waves her hand dismissively.

  “Nico and Jax are giving this class. Their classes are always full. Everyone absolutely needs them to teach them to defend themselves.” She finishes with a waggle of her eyebrows and I can’t stop my smile.

  “Dominic?” I question. I heard Nico before, but I want to make sure we’re definitely talking about the same person.

  “Yeah, we call him Nico.”

  “He’s popular then?”

  She wrinkles her nose before standing and coming around the desk. Holy shit she’s super pregnant! She must notice the surprise on my face because she laughs as she grabs my hand.

  “Six weeks to go, and yeah, you could say he’s a little popular.” She starts to speak again, but instead sniffs the air. She does it a second time and her eyes go wide as she pulls me to a stop. “Is that sugar?” She sounds as though I’ve committed the worst of the seven deadly sins. Greed, maybe?

  “Um, yeah. I just thought I’d bring something for Dominic and his friends. I met them here last week, but couldn’t make it back before now.”

  By the time I’m done speaking, she’s clutching her stomach and laughing.

  “Oh, I like you already. This is going to be epic.”

  She grabs my hand and I can’t help but wonder at the strength of the pregnant woman currently dragging me along behind her. I can also feel the curious eyes on us as we move through the main workout area. I keep my gaze trained on the floor, but I can still see people on the machines as we speed walk through. She stops at a door, peeks inside and yells for Law and East to follow us. I’m wondering at the names of these people when she drags me off again. I clutch the containers to my chest and although I suspect there are two people following us, I don’t dare look back. She opens another door and I’m assaulted with a nauseating mixture of different perfumes. There are about twelve women in a half-circle and each one of them is clad in too small sports bras and skintight shorts that I’d only be comfortable wearing to bed. A few of them are even wearing dangly earrings and layers of make-up. Is self-defense not considered a workout? Shit! Did I under dress? I glance down at my loose-fitting t-shirt and black running tights. Before I can fully freak out, someone begins to speak.

  “Do you think you could show us again? I’m just not really getting it,” one of the women call out.

  “I’ve showed you four times now, sweetheart, so I’ll let someone else take over,” Dominic says and even though I can’t see him from his spot - on the floor? - his deep voice gives me goose bumps and my ovaries, traitorous little hussies that they are, explode in glee.

  “Who’s this?”

  I squeak and whip around to where the voice came from – it sounded way too close - and come face to chest with two sets of arms folded across a wide chest. How did I forget there were two more behemoths following us? “Muscles. Good grief. Is everyone here deluxe sized?” The pregnant chick laughs again, except this time it’s more like a cackle and the two giants before me grin.

  “Shit, I’m going to start having contractions if I stay around you.”

  I groan, realizing I said all of that out loud.

  “Rochelle!”

  I whip around again and am instantly pulled into a crushing bear hug. Everything in me freezes. I have no idea who’s hugging me, but I’m too shocked to push them away. Instead, I clutch the goody container to my chest and bite the inside of my cheek.

  “Nico, look! It’s your junk-juice maker!”

  I now recognize the teasing tone as Van’s, but I can’t seem to make myself relax. If Connor knew another man was hugging me like this, he’d go insane. I know I should be pushing him away, but my brain fires all the wrong signals. Also, I feel like I would be pretty embarrassed if I actually knew what a junk juice maker was.

  “Let her breathe, idiot.”

  Van is yanked away from me and Cade is standing in front of me. I attempt to scan the room, but find a wall of bodies surrounding me. How is it possible that all of this hotness is in one group of friends. Every. Single. One. Isn’t there always at least one ugly one? Or is that just for women?

  “What’s in the box?” Jax asks with a jerk of his chin.

  “Is that butterscotch I smell?” Van asks.

  He sounds just as incredulous as the pregnant chick did when she smelled it. Do they not like butterscotch?

  “And,” Cade sniffs experimentally, “hazelnut?”

  I feel like I’m being stalked by a bloodthirsty pack of wolves. My mouth opens and closes repeatedly as I try to force words out. None are forthcoming and I’m sure I only succeed at looking like an idiot The one who asked who I was reaches forward – probably to grab the container, but did I mention the bloodthirsty pack of wolves? I let out a yelp and backpedal only to come up against another body. That stupid ass squeak comes out again as I try to move forward, but hands on my shoulders stop me from moving. I’m two seconds from tossing the containers up, hoping to cause a feeding frenzy – because they’re wolves, right? – when I hear his voice right next to my ear.

  “What’s in the containers, little mouse?”

  Instead of the human language I’ve been reduced to squeaks and now whimpers. He chuckles at the sound and Jesus help me, my knees threaten to buckle. How can his laugh have this effect on me? What the fuck is going on with me and how the hell did he get behind me? I’m turned and forced to look up at him. His hands rest low on my hips, much lower than a friendly touch, long fingers gently resting against my ass. Shockingly, I don’t want to move them like I do whenever Connor touches me.

  “Did you bring me something?”

  Still unable to speak and quite frankly, think, I can only nod my head. I brought him me, every single part of me. His lips stretch slowly into a smile. I clench the container tight and I know my mouth is gaping, but I can�
�t help it. Up close and in the light of day, I realize how utterly gorgeous he is. This man should never be allowed to smile. Ever.

  Thick eyebrows and unruly lashes frame his chocolate brown eyes, which twinkle with amusement as he looks down at me – because yet again, they’re all freaking massive and my 5’9” height is small compared to them. His dark hair is cut low, close to his scalp and his high cheekbones and square chin are covered in the stubble of a neatly trimmed full beard. I wonder if it would tickle or irritate my skin as it scraped against me? His skin is a lovely shade of reddish brown – like burnt cinnamon—and altogether beautiful. He seemed like he didn’t want to be touched when we first met, but skin like that just doesn’t go untouched. Wide shoulders and a broad chest strain against the t-shirt he wears. My grip on the containers tighten even more because I know if I let go, I won’t be able to resist poking at his biceps to see if they’re really as hard as they look. Connor is muscular and athletically built, but compared to Nico he falls extremely short. My perusal downward continues and just as I’m wondering if behind that t-shirt he’s a six-pack or an eight-pack, I hear Van’s voice.

  “I feel like we should be charging her for this show.”

  Show? I jerk my head back up to Dominic’s face and my denial of staring at him dies on my tongue because now he’s grinning. If he shouldn’t be allowed to smile, then grinning should be punishable by death. Illegal. I swallow and force myself to look away. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me? Another man in my life is the last thing I need. Not to mention the fallout of Connor even suspecting my attraction to another man. Is that what this is though? Attraction? Could I be blamed? He’s cut from a slab of marble and should be the poster child for all those “got milk” ads.

  “If you ask nicely, I’ll take my shirt off,” Dominic whispers, his deep voice reverberating into the depths of me.

  “I propose a trade! The food for unlimited staring!” Jax proclaims like it’s the best idea in the world.

  It’s not. It’s the absolute worst right now. He’s the worst right now.

  “One of you should finish the class. Looks like they’re getting impatient,” pregnant chick says. I should really learn her name. I try to follow her gaze, but that wall of flesh is still there, so I shove the containers into Dominic’s chest and let go before waiting to see if he takes them. I shouldn’t have worried though. His hands snap up and close around them.

  “Those are for you. All of you. Y’all. I think. I didn’t realize all of you were gigantic so maybe I should have brought more, but that’s all I have for now. Next time, I’ll bake more stuff and then we can even share with the class and . . . yeah, just . . .”

  I trail off when I hear snickering from behind the flesh wall. One of them asks if I said share with the class. Yes. Yes, I did just say that. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out as I shift from one foot to the other.

  “Get them out of here,” Cade growls and if I weren’t so freaked out I’d possibly consider kissing him . . . nope, I really wouldn’t.

  I sense movement around me, but I don’t dare look up. The scent of butterscotch gets stronger and a moment later so does the hazelnut.

  “What the fuck is this?” Dominic asks.

  Shit. Did he just growl? I think he just growled. Is he mad? What did I do?

  “It’s hazelnut butter cake with sea salt caramel and the other is butterscotch cashew bars.”

  “You made this?”

  He doesn’t sound angry anymore, just disbelieving. I hear more snickers, but these sound more amused than malicious so I know it’s just the pregnant chick. I nod my head. “For you. All. For all of you,” I clarify. You know, just in case he missed it the first time I blundered it. I’d give anything for an invisibility cloak right now.

  “You thought it’d be a good idea to bake cakes and bars and bring them to a gym? A gym where MMA fighters train?”

  He sounds genuinely curious so I risk a glance up at him.

  “Yes? It’s better than Jax’s trade idea. Right?”

  Since the wall of flesh is unsuccessfully trying not to laugh I look to pregnant chick. She’s already nodding enthusiastically and I smile before looking back at Dominic.

  “You can’t train and eat things like this. It’s horrible. It’s probably 80% sugar. You expect us to eat this?”

  My smile drops along with my eyes. Who would willingly never eat things like this? A temporary diet is understandable, but forever? “That’s just stupid. Only an idiot would think that would be a good idea and actually stick to it. No, not an idiot, a compete imbecile. Give up baked goods? A total moron. Or maybe if a doctor ordered it. That would be a bummer, but I guess I could understand it.” When my thoughts die down I notice the complete silence. My head snaps up and I see Dominic staring at me, mouth gaped open and eyes bugged out. Oh dear God! Did I say all that out loud? I look to pregnant chick and her expression is nearly identical to his. I just called Dominic and his friends morons. Sweat beads across my forehead and my breath comes out in shallow pants. Am I having a panic attack? My eyes dart to the door and seconds later I dash for it. I once made the mistake of telling Connor he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. I didn’t even call him stupid like I wanted to. I came away from that with two bruised ribs. I won’t stick around and wait for whatever punishments these guys think would be sufficient. I hear them calling out to me, but they’re calling for Rochelle. This is not a Rochelle moment. This is a moment that questions my survival and if it’s one thing Bailey knows how to do, it’s survive.

  THREE DAYS. THREE long ass days. That’s how long it’s been since Rochelle raced out of here like a hellhound was chasing her. I spent two of them trying to ignore the constant shit I got from my friends about my dick finally working, me turning into a fat ass from her baking – because let’s face it, the girl can burn and only a moron wouldn’t eat it, and about me being a moody bastard because I missed her. All of it pissed me off and since I really have no logical reason to be this upset, that makes me more upset. Then she had the nerve to not show up at all. I knew this class was supposed to be full, but there were only ten women and a little man. When I checked the roster it said we were missing a lady named Bailey Ross–O’Malley. Since I was already pissed at the world, I added Bailey Fucking Ross–O’Malley to my shit list, too. Fuck her for thinking she needed to hyphenate her name and fuck Rochelle, too, for not showing up like she should.

  “Alright, let’s get started. My name is Nico, as most of you know. We’ll go through some basics to get started and . . .”

  The door opening cuts me off and there she is. I stare at her in silence as she tries to come inside and be invisible at the same time. One of those isn’t going to work out. By the time she makes it to where everyone else is standing around me the entire group is staring at her. I feel like I should say something to get the attention off her, but hey, pissed off asshole, remember? On top of that, Jr is waking up after three days of not even a twitch and fuck if that doesn’t add to my mood because she’s still skinny as shit and I shouldn’t be having this reaction to her, especially not in this setting. It has to be mental, right? Dicks don’t just work when they want to, right? She stares at the floor and shifts from one foot to the other. If I weren’t such an asshole I’d admit that her neon pink Nike’s are actually pretty cute on her, but fuck it. She’s skinny as fuck and she ran out without a word. Her clothes are too baggy and she needs to eat a shitload more of that crap she baked us. Feeling eyes on me, I glance at the door and there they are. Cade stands next to Petra with one hand on her stomach and he’s literally humping her leg while she grins like a fucking idiot. Van is humping the floor, and Law and East are both grinding against the wall with one leg up. Fucking bastards. I shake my head and focus back on the class, who’re now focused on the spectacle at the door. Except Rochelle. She seems to find the padded flooring more interesting than anything.

  “Should we just ignore them?” Little man asks?

&n
bsp; “Please do. Eyes on me and we’ll get started for real this time. I’ll be pairing you guys off with each other soon and coming around to see how you do, but first, I need a volunteer to show you what we’ll be working on.”

  Four of the women take steps back, letting me know they’re actually here because they need to be and we should focus on them. Little man winks at me and smiles before folding his arms across where his chest should be – he’s skinnier than Rochelle. Damn shame. I’m going to assume that wink was a figment of my imagination since I don’t need to add any more to the lists of things that are irritating me. Six of the other women raise their hands while simultaneously thrusting their chest out. Two add claw-tipped spirit fingers to their raised hands and one bounces on her tip-toes, causing her breasts to nearly bounce out of the tiny top she’s wearing. Her giggles let me know it’s on purpose. I glance at Rochelle, expecting her to have taken a step back with the other four, but she’s taken three steps closer to me and the hands that she’d been twisting since she walked in are loose at her side. The most surprising though, her chin is lifted and she’s staring me directly in my eyes.

  “Junk juice!” Van yells excitedly and I have to stop myself from physically attacking him because in my black shorts there’s no way he can actually know, but he’s right. Fucking pre-cum. Her defiance feels like a challenge and makes me want to answer it. I ignore Van and focus on Rochelle.

  “You’re my volunteer?”

  She flinches when I speak, so I guess I must’ve asked that harsher than I intended. She doesn’t drop her eyes though.

  “I learn better if I see it up close,” she says with a quick jerk of her head.