Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

by Fawkes, Sara

  His family epitomized the word “uptight”, but after he’d left home and stumbled on the kink scene,

  he’d never had to hide again.

  “Then one night we went to a party,” she said softly. “I don’t think he knew what kind of party it

  was. But in every room in that house people were acting out the very things I had imagined. It made

  me so...hot.” She stumbled over the word and buried her face in his chest. “I don’t think I had ever

  been so aroused. We ran away, of course. But when we got home I told Preston what I’d been hiding.

  And because he wanted to make me happy he tried. That night he tried everything I asked. But in the

  morning when he woke up...” She choked back a sob and Jax tightened his arms around her.

  “Shhh, little fighter.”

  Marcy took a deep breath. “He looked at me with such disgust. He told me I was perverted and

  sick and that I’d corrupted him. And then he left and I never heard from him again.”

  Anger flared through him and he bit back a growl. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Marcy. We

  all have needs. Different needs. People who would judge you for them aren’t worth your time. You

  shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are. And if you want to find people who share your interests, the

  kink scene would welcome you with open arms.”

  “I don’t need a kink scene, Jax.” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. Trusting. “Just someone

  who understands me.”

  Chapter Six

  “Fuck, Marcy. You have to focus.”

  Marcy bit her lip and slid off Jax’s chest. The last hour had been the most grueling training session

  of her entire career. Jax had gone from patient and understanding to abrupt and temperamental—angry

  even—in the space of a night and a day.

  She should have guessed something was up after their encounter in the gym. Although he’d been

  attentive and courteous in the gym, helping her dress and collect her things, he’d become distant as he

  walked her to her car. She’d been up most of the night worrying that he regretted what they’d done.

  Now she knew she was right.

  On the pretense of getting a drink, she grabbed her water bottle and slipped out of the ring. Her

  stomach was twisted in a knot and every minute she spent pressed up against his body practicing

  submissions made the pain infinitely worse. She couldn’t take any other hour. Definitely not two.

  As she added a few drops of water to her already-full bottle, Reid joined her at the cooler.

  “You okay?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be? I have to wait another year for a shot at the State Championship and

  Jax has been replaced by his evil twin brother who spent the evening tossing me around the mat like a

  rag doll.”

  Reid shook his head, his face grim. “This is my fault. The minute I saw you two together in the

  ring, I knew I should pull the plug. In this profession, coaching and relationships don’t mix. Not that it

  can’t work, but it takes a lot of effort when you’re in close physical contact all the time.”

  “We’re not in a relationship.” She sighed and twisted the cap on her water bottle. “Last night when

  I thought he’d raised issues he wasn’t planning to tell me, things got out of hand. But it’s fine now.

  He’s probably acting the same as he usually does and I’m just being overly sensitive. I’ll get over it.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “Jax is only here for few weeks and then he’s gone. Miami, I

  think he said is next on his route. He’s got nothing permanent here. His car, apartment, even his phone

  were provided by the gym as part of the contract. He’s never stayed longer than two months in a city.

  Says he prefers it that way. He wants a life without attachments or relationships.”

  “Reid...”

  He held up a hand, forestalling her. “I know I said I’d kick you out if you didn’t give him a chance.

  But you did, and if it’s not working out for whatever reason, just say the word and I’ll find someone

  else to coach you.”

  Someone else? Despite Jax’s sudden personality change over the last hour, she couldn’t imagine

  training with anyone else. Jax understood her in a way no one else ever had. So why was he pushing

  her away?

  “Thanks, Reid.”

  Reid tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and then he swallowed. “Marcy...” He cut

  himself off when she gave him a puzzled frown, and then dropped his hand. “Nothing. Forget it. I just

  don’t want to see you get hurt—in or out of the ring.”

  A sliver of unease crept through her heart. Was she missing something? She’d never thought of

  Reid as anything other than a friend, albeit an extremely overprotective one. Had she misread him?

  She glanced up but saw only concern in his handsome face.

  “It’s nice to know you have my back.”

  Reid winked. “Always got eyes on you. Always have. Always will.”

  ***

  “Jax?”

  Jax’s head jerked up as he reached for the door handle of his rental car, a sporty Audi A4. Damn.

  She was still here. No quick escape for him. But really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Marcy wasn’t a

  woman who shied away from confrontation and tonight he’d given her something to be

  confrontational about.

  He’d been a fucking bastard.

  Spinning around to face her, he leaned against his vehicle and folded his arms. Aggressive?

  Defensive? He hardly knew himself any more. His behavior this evening had been totally out of line,

  uncharacteristically harsh, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. Part of him wanted to push her away so he

  wouldn’t have to convince her to fight, when truly he wanted her submission. Nor did he want to

  destroy her dreams and open his heart by telling her the truth. But the other part of him, the primal

  beast within, wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his cave, ravage her in every

  way he knew how, coax her surrender, and then hold her in his arms until he had the energy to do it all

  again.

  Unfortunately, he’d taken out his internal struggle on her.

  “What’s going on?” Marcy had changed into a pair of tight jeans that hugged the curves of her hips

  and her long, lean legs. With a short leather jacket thrown over a tank top, and a pair of worn cowboy

  boots, her hair loose and spilling over her shoulders, she took his breath away.

  For a long moment he didn’t speak, caught off guard by her frank question and wary of where it

  might lead.

  She sighed and shook her head. “You were brutal in there. Harsh, abrupt—”

  “You weren’t focused.” He scrambled for a plausible explanation. “It was like we were starting

  from the beginning.”

  “You didn’t give me a chance,” she snapped. “Five minutes into the session you suddenly went on

  the attack. Is it because of last night?”

  Jax’s stomach tightened when her voice wavered and he cursed himself for allowing things to get

  this far, especially when he was going to have to tell her the one thing that might destroy her dreams.

  “No, of course not.” Even he didn’t believe his own lie.

  She met his gaze with a level stare, her eyes glittering under the dim glow of the overhead

  streetlight. “Then kiss me, Jax,” she said, an unmistakable challenge in her voice. “Kiss me and mean

  it or walk away.”

  It wasn’t really a choice.

 
With a groan, he pulled her into his chest. “I can’t walk away.” He slanted his mouth over hers and

  crushed her lips in a bruising kiss, slaking the thirst that had burned in him since she’d walked into the

  gym this evening.

  Marcy moaned, a deep guttural sound that hardened him in an instant. His hands glided over her

  body, cupping her ass and pulling her tight against him. Blood pounded through his veins as he

  devoured her mouth, giving her no respite until she whimpered.

  Appalled at his loss of control, he pulled away. But Marcy followed him, pressing her soft, sweet

  breasts against his chest, her breath whispering over his lips.

  “Jax?”

  No. God. No. He had to stop. It could take weeks to find her a new coach and he would do her more

  harm than good if they became involved while he was training her. Tonight had been a case in point.

  “Jax?” Her voice rose in pitch and his stomach clenched with guilt.

  “Fuck. I’m sorry.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, as much to clear the fog from his brain as

  to keep his gaze off her lush lips, pink and swollen from his kiss. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, and

  last night...shouldn’t have happened.”

  Her breath caught and she stared at him aghast. “But...I wanted it to happen. It was my choice,

  too.”

  He shook his head, jaw tight. “It’s my responsibility to stay in control. You’re just so beautiful,

  sweet, you were hurting...” His voice trailed off as the irony of the situation twisted his gut. Her

  success as a fighter depended on his failure as a dominant.

  For a long moment she stared at him, her body trembling. Then her eyes hardened. “Damn you.

  Reid said he’d find me a new coach if I wanted. I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”

  She took one step back and another, and then she turned and disappeared into the shadows.

  Fuck.

  Every instinct screamed at him to go after her. But his thoughts were too twisted up to sort through

  the tangle of emotions churning in his belly. He should be relieved, happy even. Between them, Reid

  and Marcy would solve the problem for him. He had almost finished with the other fighters he’d been

  contracted to help. One or two more sessions and he would be free.

  So why did his heart ache at the thought of moving on?

  Too agitated to join the other fighters for a drink at the bar as he usually did, he drove back to his

  corporate rental apartment, furnished in bland beige and brown. Here and there he’d tried to add his

  own touch: a White Sox pennant, pictures of his family, a drawing from his niece who still hadn’t

  given up hope he would one day give her a cousin to play with, and a bottle of George T. Stagg, his

  favorite whiskey.

  He threw himself in front of the television and flicked mindlessly through the channels. Unable to

  focus, he changed into his fight shorts and ran through an exercise routine in the spare room he’d set

  up as a make-shift gym. When even physical exertion could not calm the raging torrent of need

  coursing through his blood, he stripped of his clothes and stepped into the shower.

  “Dammit.”

  He turned the shower to full blast and as soon as the water hit his skin, he fisted his cock and

  began to stroke.

  Eyes closed, chest heaving, he was rough with himself, his hand quickening as he visualised

  Marcy’s sweet face flushed with arousal. The gentle curves of her body. The dip of her stomach. Her

  beautiful heart-shaped ass, so soft beneath his fingers. His cock thickened in his palm and he pumped

  harder, imagining her breasts soft and warm in his hands, her pussy wet and ripe for him...

  Fuck.

  Firm now. Faster. Every stroke bordering on pain as the hot water beat down on his body.

  Punishing himself for drinking deeply of her honey and tasting the sweetness of her lips when he knew

  that banquet was not meant for him.

  Oh God. Those lips.

  Close. So close.

  He beat himself without mercy, the slap and slide of his hand clearly audible over the pulse of his

  shower, the sound driving him almost insane as he imagined himself driving deep inside her.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His muscles tightened and in his mind he buried himself in her soaking pussy,

  pinching her clit so they could come together in a violent, heated rush.

  His balls lifted, tightened. Finally he came, his release bursting from his spine in long heated jets

  of liquid pleasure as he groaned, “Marcy.”

  He was well and truly fucked.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hey, baby girl, need another drink?”

  Marcy took the proffered beer bottle from Two Step and joined Val on the barstools at his kitchen

  island. “Great party,” she shouted over the dulcet tones of Stereoliner, “but, as always, you invited too

  many people. I could barely get through your living room.”

  Two Step laughed. “That’s what makes it a great party. And I’m expecting another wave of people

  now that Club Excelsior is closed for the night. Reid said he would round up any stragglers and bring

  them over.”

  “No doubt I’ll know them all and the ones that aren’t already hooked up will be gay or on the

  rebound,” Val muttered. “Seriously. I work at a sporting goods store owned by bunch of hot fighters

  and can I get some of that sugar? No. I’m stuck with accountants, middle managers, and paper

  pushers. If Reid doesn’t have a decent straggler for me, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”

  Marcy grimaced. Hopefully Jax wouldn’t be one of those stragglers. She’d purposely taken back-

  to-back shifts at the store to avoid seeing him today, and tonight Val had promised to keep her

  distracted with an endless supply of chili lime margaritas. So far so bad. Val hadn’t stopped talking

  about hot fighters since they’d walked in the door, and the only alcohol on offer had been the one

  drink she couldn’t stand, beer.

  “You’d better get started on your margaritas.” Marcy gestured to the blender. “Reid can be a tad

  intimidating, but not as much as me when deprived of my promised distraction.”

  “Heard Reid was cutting you from the list,” Two Step said as Val slid off the seat and headed for

  the blender.

  “Yeah. Jax told him I wasn’t ready. Damn depressing.” She took a sip from the beer bottle and

  cringed as the warm, bitter liquid slid over her tongue.

  Reid frowned. “How did that work out? I’d heard you and Jax were—”

  “No.” Marcy cut him off, knowing what he was going to say. Club Excelsior was worse for gossip

  than high school had ever been. “We’re not. And who’s spreading rumors anyway? Did Reid say

  something?”

  “You know how it is.” Two Step shrugged. “The way you two have been rolling around on the

  mats...”

  “Training,” Marcy snapped. “We were training.”

  Two Step snorted a laugh. “Yeah. Training. If I had a girl who looked like you lying on top of me

  for hours every night, I’d tell her she needed more training, too.”

  Marcy’s breath left her in a rush. “You don’t think...”

  “Don’t ask me.” Two Step gestured toward the door. “Ask him.”

  Marcy didn’t need to turn around. She sensed Jax behind her, felt his heat. But even if she hadn’t

  been so attuned to his presence, Val’s wide eyes and raised eyebrows would have given the game

  away.

  “Hey,
Jax. How’s that cup working out for you?” Val’s lips quivered with a repressed smile and

  Marcy mentally crossed Val off her Christmas lists for the next ten years.

  “Perfect.” His voice rolled over her, deep and warm, bringing back memories of their night in the

  gym. She pushed away thoughts of that voice in her ear, filling her mind with deeply erotic images of

  the things he wanted to do to her body. Instead she focused on Val smirking across the counter, Two

  Step’s blank expression, the steady drip of the faucet, and the gentle rattle of bottles on the counter as

  the heavy bass of Slayer pounded through Two Step’s house.

  For a long moment, no one spoke. Marcy picked at the label on the beer bottle while Two Step and

  Val exchanged a glance. Sure, she was being rude, but she had every right. Didn’t she?

  “Marcy, I need to speak to you.”

  Marcy stiffened at Jax’s tone, completely unapologetic, almost commanding.

  “I’m busy right now.”

  “Marcy...”

  “Busy,” she snapped.

  “Actually, we’re not that busy,” Val said, a smile curling her evil lips. “I was just about to whip up

  a pitcher of margaritas, and Two Step was about to do a walk-around with that case of swill he passes

  off as beer.” She dropped her gaze to a furious Marcy. “Maybe you should go talk to him. He’s

  looking kinda down. Not the cheerful cup-buying Jax we saw in the store.”

  Kill you, Marcy mouthed at Val before turning around and glaring at Jax. “Five minutes.”

  He gave her a curt nod and led her out to the balcony, closing the glass door behind him. A cool

  breeze ruffled Marcy’s hair, bringing with it the faint kiss of the ocean and memories of happier

  times. Family times. She hugged herself against the chill and longing for the sister she hadn’t spoken

  to in years.

  Jax’s brow creased in a frown. “Cold?”

  “We’re only here for five minutes. I’ll survive.”

  “You don’t have to just survive.” He shrugged off his jacket, and before she could protest he had

  wrapped it around her. Marcy steeled herself as the residual warmth of his body seeped into her skin.

  No way would one chivalrous gesture undo the damage he had done. She gave him begrudging thanks

  and then shrugged. “Say what you have to say, Jax. I was having a good time until you showed up.”