by Fawkes, Sara
“Here they are.” She waved her hand over the display and tried not to think of where Jax might
place a cup and what might go in it. “In the shorts or out?” Most the male fighters she knew preferred
bike-style compression shorts with a built-in pouch for a cup, but some still preferred the extra
protection afforded by a full groin protector.
“I don’t know. How rough are you planning to be with me? So far I’ve had a few narrow escapes.”
She looked at him aghast. “You haven’t been...wearing anything?”
Jax captured her with his gaze and his voice dropped husky and low. “Don’t usually need it when
I’m coaching, but with you...”
Her cheeks flushed red and she took a step back and away. “Um, since I’m not planning on making
any...direct contact I’d recommend the fight short style.”
“You’re embarrassed.” He raised an eyebrow and his lips twitched with a smile. “Haven’t you sold
cups to your friends before?”
Get a grip. Marcy willed the flush out of her cheeks, breathing in the comforting scent of plastic
and latex and a faint whiff of leather. “Sure. All the time.”
He closed the distance between them and stroked a finger over the apple of her burning cheek. “So
why are you blushing?”
She met his curious gaze. “They weren’t...you know...my coach.”
“What’s wrong with your coach?”
He was so close now she could feel the heat of his body through her clothes. God he was sexy. Too
sexy. The kind of sexy that usually sent her running out the door. Like she’d run this morning. If she
had really tried, she could have made it from the youth club to the gym in time, and then made her
shift. But she’d been afraid she misunderstood what had happened last night. Now she knew she was
right.
“Nothing,” she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away from his.
“Wrong.” He cupped her cheek, tracing along the curve of her jaw with his thumb, burning a trail
across her skin. “I came looking for you to apologize—to assure you what happened last night
wouldn’t happen again. I wanted to tell you that you would be safe with me. But after watching you
with those kids, and seeing you here now, so soft and sweet, I know it isn’t true. You’re an intriguing
contradiction. A fighter with a gentle soul. Controlling in the ring, but inside...”
Marcy’s breath caught in her throat as adrenaline surged through her veins. Nonononononono. He
couldn’t possibly know the secret desires she kept hidden from the world.
Jax bent and pressed his lips to her ear. “You want...need to give up that control, Marcy. I can see
it in the way you respond to me and how hard it is for you to fight it in the ring. And that means you
aren’t safe with me because I want to take control. That’s what’s wrong with your coach.”
Her body trembled under his touch. The warning in his voice conjured up images of all sorts of
unsafe things he might do to her in the bedroom. “Jax, please...”
His lips slid over her cheek and then his mouth touched hers, light as a feather but with the impact
of one of Two Step’s signature punches. Her breath left her in a rush, and although she knew she
should pull away, she couldn’t help but kiss him back.
Within a heartbeat, he had his arm around her, pulling her against his body, his tongue easing
between her lips to fully explore her mouth. She melted into him, sliding her hands up his broad chest
and around his neck, taking what he gave, demanding more.
He groaned and white-hot lightning sheeted through Marcy’s body. The world fell away until there
was nothing but his mouth on hers, hot and wet, and the pounding of his heart against her chest. Never
had she felt anything like the raw desire tearing through her veins. And if he could turn her wanton
and liquid with a kiss, what could he do if he stripped off her clothes?
“God, Marcy.” Their tongues tangled together. His teeth scraped over her bottom lip and then he
nipped. Marcy gasped, and the tiny burst of pain shot straight to her clit. Suddenly she was back in
Preston’s apartment, Preston’s bed, trying to explain why she got so wet when he hurt her, and shame
overwhelmed her desire.
“No, Jax. I...I can’t.” She pushed him away and turned, only to see Val at the end of the aisle.
Val lifted an eyebrow. “Got a bunch of customers up front who need some help.” Her gaze flicked
to Jax and then back to Marcy. “’Course, I could always handle them myself.”
“No, we’re done here.” She pushed past Jax and headed down the aisle struggling to steady her
senses.
She’d just kissed Jax.
Her coach.
Reid would kill her if he ever found out. Talk about not taking the training seriously.
But still...
She touched her fingers to her mouth, still warm and sweet from his lips.
No. She could never be alone with him again.
Ever.
***
“What’s wrong?”
Marcy tossed her gym bag on the floor and threw herself into the chair across from Reid’s desk,
annoyed at being summoned before she could escape the gym after successfully avoiding Jax all
evening. And yet, the memory of Jax’s kiss lingered, teased and taunted her senses. Distracting.
Reid sighed. “I’ve just received the new rules about the State Championship. For a shot at your
weight title you need to be in the top four fighters in Southern California. If you’re in the top eight,
you have a chance as an alternate. You’re number nine. They make their decision at the end of the
month so this is the time to improve your ranking. There’s a new promotion, ROC, holding a big event
in two weeks. They asked if I have anyone I want to put on their card...”
Her breath hitched. “That’s great. Why the long face?”
He scraped his hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “I was going to put you on the
list, but Jax doesn’t think you’re ready.”
She looked at him aghast. “Not ready? I’ve been training for this for the last three years. Until the
last fight I was 4-0. I’m ready, Reid. This issue will be sorted well before the event.”
Reid gave an uncomfortable shrug. “He doesn’t think so.”
Marcy’s blood chilled. Why had Jax told Reid there was an issue before discussing it with her?
And what the hell was he thinking getting in the way of her dreams? “Are we done?” She pushed
herself out of her chair. Even if they weren’t done, she couldn’t stay there another minute. Jax had
some explaining to do.
“Marcy.”
She paused on her way out and looked back over her shoulder, smoothing her face into an
expressionless mask.
Reid’s throat tightened as he swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Not trusting herself to speak, she walked away.
Chapter Four
“Bastard!”
Jax grabbed a towel and wiped himself down as Marcy stalked across the near-empty gym. Eyes
glittering fever bright, jaw tense, body trembling, she was breathtaking in her fury.
Don’t go there. Their nightly training sessions had become one erotic torture after the next.
Rolling across the mat with Marcy’s sweet body tucked against him, wrapping himself around her and
coaxing her to fight submission without giving in to his base desires had introduced a whole new level
of hell
for his self-control. Just once he had slipped. But only once.
Until today.
The kiss in the store hadn’t been a slip. It had been a major fucking disaster.
She pulled up short in front of him and drew in a ragged breath, her fists clenching and
unclenching by her sides. Jax’s skin prickled. He’d never seen Marcy anything but calm and
controlled and maybe just a bit flustered. This was a different Marcy.
Marcy in full armor.
“You told him I wasn’t ready,” she spat out. “I won’t get on the card for the next event which
means I won’t have a shot at the State Championship.”
His stomach tightened. Damn Reid. Their conversation was meant to be confidential, at least until
he’d had a discussion with Marcy first. But Reid was up against a deadline and hadn’t given him a
choice.
Still, it didn’t change the facts, and he had never been one to dance around an issue.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t lie to him. And he’s worried you’ll wind up in the hospital again. He’s
not willing to risk your safety.” Neither was he, especially not now.
Her nostrils flared. “You’re supposed to tell me first. Let me explain or fix things. Update me on my progress. I could have worked harder, trained more...”
He held up his hands, palms forward. “It doesn’t work like that, Marcy. There’s nothing else you
could do. It’s a process.”
“A process.” Bitterness tinged her words. “That’s what the week has been? A process?”
The pain in her voice sliced through him with the accuracy of a surgeon’s blade. He knew exactly
what she was saying. He could read between the lines. But he couldn’t give her the reassurance she so
obviously needed. And he didn’t want to raise the concern that was keeping him up every night. He
didn’t want to destroy her dreams, especially if he wasn’t one hundred percent certain he was right.
“Yes. It doesn’t happen at once.”
She bristled. “What about today? What was that? Did you kiss me because you felt guilty? Or out
of pity because I’ll have to train another full year for a shot at the title? Was that your twisted way of
saying sorry?”
His stomach clenched at the pain and anger in her voice. “I didn’t go looking for you today
thinking things would turn out as they did. In fact, I wanted the opposite. But you were already under
my skin. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And when I saw what you’d been hiding from me, it was
too much. You’re impossible to resist. I wanted more of you than I get in the fight ring. I want the
softness under your armor, too.”
“I hate you,” she snapped, as if he hadn’t even spoken or bared himself in a way he hadn’t done for
years. “I knew I didn’t need a coach. Especially someone who would mess up my career. If it wasn’t
for you, I would be on that card no questions asked.” She turned away and he reached out and clasped
her shoulder, spinning her to face him.
“Wait.”
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” She wrenched herself away and then, as if a dam broke, she hit his chest, one
blow after another until he grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back.
“Stop, Marcy. I don’t want to hurt you. What happened at the last event would’ve happened even if
I hadn’t been here. Reid had doubts about you before and he would have had the same doubts now.”
Chest heaving, chin quivering, eyes glistening with tears, she met his gaze. “You already have hurt
me.”
He only meant to kiss the tear away. But as his lips glided over her cheek, she turned into him and
pressed her lips to his, so soft and sweet he ached with pleasure. Before she could back away he
cupped her head with his hand, holding her still, and kissed her with infinite tenderness, showing her
in his gesture what she refused to hear in his words.
“Don’t.” Breaking their kiss, she choked back a sob and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I
wanted it so much. I worked so hard.”
He released her wrists and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “I was going
to talk to you, but Reid put me on the spot. I’m sorry, Marcy, but I can’t put a fighter in the ring if she
isn’t physically or mentally ready. Especially because that’s what happened to me and I know how bad
it can be. One month after my sister’s death, I went into the ring. I was still an emotional wreck and I
thought I heard her voice in the crowd. Lost focus. Got knocked out so bad I was unconscious almost a
week. That’s when I decided to give it up and help people instead.”
Her bottom lip quivered and her body softened. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, but you’re
wrong about me.”
“I was wrong about many things but not this. The Flyweights on ROC’s card are all submission
experts. You’re not ready for them yet.”
Maybe not ever, and definitely not with him as a coach. Although he wasn’t 100% certain she was
sexually submissive, he couldn’t deny that something about her called out to his dominant side,
drawing him in like a beacon. And yet, in the ring he needed to teach her to fight, not submit. He’d
never faced such a struggle with the professional personal divide.
She stiffened in his arms and for a moment he thought—feared—she would pull away. Instead she
softened against him. “Now what?”
For him, quitting was the obvious solution, but the problem was deeper than that. Aside from
dealing with his deep attraction to her, he felt compelled to tell Marcy the truth. She would need to
know, given her true nature as a submissive, she might not have what it took to become a
championship fighter. Sometimes sexual needs bled out into the real world. For most people, it wasn’t
a problem. For Marcy, it could kill her career.
And the truth would kill her dreams.
With impeccable timing, Reid stepped into the gym, his gaze flicking from Jax to Marcy and back
to Jax. With a resigned shake of his head, he tossed Jax the keys.
“I’m heading out. Everyone else is gone. Lock up for me and then slide the keys through the mail
slot. I have another set at home.”
Jax waited until the door closed behind Reid before he spoke again, seeking a way to put some
distance between them, regain perspective...control. Maybe even discover he was wrong. “Show me.”
“Damn right I will.” Marcy stripped off her coat and shoes and stalked through the gym toward
the mats. Jax followed behind, admiring the way her jeans hugged her lush ass like a second skin.
Despite the emotionally volatile situation, he couldn’t help his body’s response when she turned and
he caught sight of the tiny tank top stretched tight over her generous breasts.
His gut tightened as he took his position on his back on the floor. Marcy straddled his chest and
leaned over him, her thighs warm against his ribcage. He drew in a deep breath and caught a light
floral scent that made his balls tighten. Perfume. He’d never thought she’d be a perfume kind of girl.
“Do it, Jax. Do it now.”
God, he wanted to do it.
Swallowing hard, he pulled her into the submission, his leg over her shoulder, her throat bared to
the pressure of his shin. After only a few seconds her body stiffened and she sucked in a sharp breath.
“There,” he said quietly. “That will lose you the fight.”
“No.” She shook
her head. “No, Jax. I’m just...tense. It’s hard to grapple in street clothes.”
“It’s not the clothes, it’s you. Something is still holding you back.” He released his grip and rolled
to his side, propping his head up with his hand, trying to maintain enough of a distance to enable him
to think clearly. She stretched out beside him, mirroring his position and he stroked his thumb over
her cheek. But instead of telling her what she needed to know, he said, “We’ll keep working on it.”
Her bottom lip quivered. “It may be too late for the State Championships and you’re only here for
three more weeks.”
“I can do a lot in three weeks.” Hell, he’d done a lot in one week. He had fallen too hard, too fast
and there was no going back. Throwing caution aside he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. “I
can do a lot now,” he whispered.
***
Liquid heat surged through Marcy’s veins as Jax caught her mouth in a searing kiss. She hadn’t come
here for this. After Reid had given her the news, she’d intended to give Jax a piece of her mind, prove
him wrong, and then walk away. Forever. But as he moved over her body, his heat surrounding her as
he eased her onto her back, she couldn’t deny she wanted him with an ache that burned into her soul.
“Fuck.” He buried his face in her neck, his five o’clock shadow scraping over her skin as he
slipped his hand beneath her shirt and stroked the arch of her bare back. His lips slid down to the
sensitive juncture between her neck and her shoulder and he sucked hard until a tiny burst of pain
made her gasp. “More.”
He bit down, gently at first, then increased the pressure until the pain made her eyes water and the
pleasure sent a surge of moist heat between her legs. A moan ripped out of her chest. God, it had been
so long.
Jax pushed himself up on his elbows and studied her face, considering. Then he eased her arms
over her head, clasping her wrists with one hand. Her back arched with the strain and she sucked in a
sharp breath as arousal shot through her like white lightning.
His eyes widened and then his voice dropped to a low, husky growl. “You like it rough, little
fighter.”
Memories came back. The soft thud of the flogger. The rattle of chains. Pain and pleasure.