Authors: A.J. Sand
We got the call.
I’m fighting Carlos tonight.
I walk my fingers up
Drew’s arm and she jerks it away, scooting back toward the edge, but there’s a small smile on her lips. I don’t think either of us trusts ourselves to get any closer right now. But, damn, I want to
be
closer. Every morning the sheets have smelled like her, and every morning I’ve wanted to pull her against me to inhale her scent right from her skin. I get hard just from having her next to me. She didn’t get on the plane, so she didn’t go home to Buck, but I don’t know where they stand right now. And as a result, I’m not sure where
we
stand. I’m impatient but I’ll wait until she brings it up.
“
I do all the punching but somehow you’re always the one fighting for me. I told you, you’re the hero here,” I say.
“And every hero has his or her version of Kryptonite apparently,” she says in a hoarse tone. Her eyes are red and her eyelids are heavy. “How do you feel?”
“How do I look?”
“Like shit
,” she says grimly.
“Well, that’s symmetry
, so I’m winning at something…”
Groaning, she says, “I can’t joke about this.
” Drew rolls her eyes as she gets up, not amused by my response. My gaze sails down her body, lingering on her hard nipples pressing through her tank top and then over the curves at her hips. My mild erection stiffens completely. “How the hell are you going to get through tonight?”
I don’t say anything because she’ll
really
hate this answer. My body is a wreck. Nothing’s broken but I’m fucked. I sit up and swing my legs to the floor. The room is spinning, and I don’t know if it’s from being in bed with her or general dizziness.
“Well?”
she prompts.
“I’m…”
Not.
“Going to do the best I can.” I don’t want to scare her, but I can’t really sugarcoat how off I’m going to be tonight. Drew’s no amateur, either; she’s seen what can happen to unprepared fighters. And with these fights, as Sandrine explained, a
yes
can’t suddenly become a
no
.
“Seriously, Jess?”
she says with clenched teeth.
“You want me to lie to you?”
Drew looks back at me once, makes a noise of frustration, and stomps into the bathroom. I grunt, too, surprised at her reaction. What does she want me to say? We can’t cancel the fight. I’d rather not make enemies of these people when I have to be in Mexico until I get the money. We could run—and this is a huge country—but I’m sure someone in Ramón Vega’s position has enough connections to make this place feel as big as Glory.
I follow her to the open bathroom door.
“Do you want me to lie…” I trail off when I see her. Drew is leaning toward the mirror, with her back arched, her ass sticking out, and just legs for miles. It’s really sexy from where I’m standing. The sight of her melds my desire with my bones, and unravels all my resolve from earlier, which was mostly full of shit, anyway.
“No, I don’t want you to lie…” she says in a shivery breath, shifting her stare to me. She turns back to the mirror, her body tensing
as I walk until I’m directly behind her. Drew’s gaze flies up when I put my hands on the sink on either side of her, and I push my chest against her back as she swivels her hips against my hard-on. Our eyes are locked in the mirror, but neither of us says a word as the last line left to cross evaporates. My lips land on the curve of her neck, and my hands slip under the sides of her tank top, raising it as I go. Once it’s past her stomach, Drew pulls it off on her own.
I have to concentrate to stop my movements from becoming anxious, because her body is both new
and
familiar to me. I palm her breasts, and her head falls back onto my shoulder when I roll both nipples between my fingers.
One of her hands comes up, nails digging into my neck, and she grips the sink harder when I dip my hand into her underwear. I thread my tongue up her neck, and Drew moans softly as I work my finger over her clit. I bend her forward just slightly, bringing my other hand down between her thighs, and push my fingers into her until they’re drenched.
She
says my name and her nails press painfully into my shoulder blade. “
Fuck,
” I whisper, loving what my touch does to her. “I want you so fucking bad, Drew…but we don’t have any condoms…”
“Yes, we do.” She reaches for her makeup bag on the counter. “Miguel gave me these as a gag gift after, um,
Las Sirenas
…anyway, I put them in here.” Drew hands one to me, and I feel like I’ve struck gold. “So…have me. Take me,” she says softly, inviting eyes pinned to my reflection. “Fuck me.” I stop touching her only to pull my pajama pants down, and Drew yanks her PJs and panties off, almost ripping them. Then her hands are back on the sink, her legs spread. I jerk my cock with her wetness and put the condom on before I slide into her. She clenches around me so tight my legs shiver, my ravaged body welcoming the sensation of pleasure. Reaching around for her clit again, I drop my face to the bend at her neck and I rock into her slowly.
“Jess…” My name melts into a hiss on her lips and she bucks against my hand, losing herself to an orgasm. It’s hard not to come as I watch her, but I pull out without finishing and spin her to face me.
There’s only hunger burning in her eyes before she starts to run her lips over my chest and the hard ridges of my abs. Drew licks my neck as I lift her to the wall behind me, and she kisses me like she might devour me. I express the same wild craving in return. I whip my tongue all around her mouth and drag her lip between my teeth when I press into her again with a single thrust that pounds my hips into hers. Drew’s body jerks and she cries out, her nails shredding my back. I rock in and out of her in a quick, eager rhythm, our foreheads touching, the two of us shuddering, and my palm braced on the wall. When she arches against me, my mouth goes to her neck and a coil tightens in my stomach.
“Drew…” I moan with her, feeling no ache in my body, just the surge of pleasure that sweeps over my nerve endings with each thrust. Drew takes every pump I give her, grinding her pelvis on me, digging her teeth into my shoulder.
Grabbing the nape of my neck, she throws her head back and screams out.
“Shit. Right there…like
…that…” she sputters. It’s too much, and the pressure inside me explodes out. As spasms ride down my core, her legs vise my waist, and I go faster and deeper, coming until she squeezes everything out of me. My head falls to her shoulder, and I stay in her for just a moment longer as her hands move along my damp back. “Wow. Someone’s
definitely
not a teenager anymore...” she says with a labored laugh.
I slide out of her and set her feet on the floor. “
Hey
…I was a
champ
at this back then.”
Drew
gives me a side eye, and before I can get too offended she says, “You seem
really
winded. Maybe we should’ve saved your energy for the fight.” Oh, wait, she wanted to offend me more.
“
Now,
you tell me…” I laugh, happy that she can have a sense of humor about the fact that Carlos is probably going to disembowel me tonight. I don’t see the point of terrorizing ourselves about something we have no control over.
I’d rather enjoy each other’s company and not think about what’s to come.
So after we shower, we order expensive room service and climb back into bed to watch even more expensive movies on the hotel’s pay-per-view channel. I don’t watch much of either, though; I just relish having Drew nestled in my arms and her soft hair right against my face. The whole situation feels a little like an inmate getting his favorite meal before he’s led off to the death chamber, but I go with it and ask her what I may not be able to later.
‘Cause my jaw will be wired shut.
“Why aren’t you in Glory, Drew?”
She rolls over to face me and strokes the light stubble along my jaw. “Because you told me you loved me…and I never got a chance to say it back.”
She hooks her finger onto the guitar pick necklace.
My pulse races.
“You and Buck?”
She shrugs, sadness forcing her to drop her gaze. “Shaky since I left. Over since I decided not to get on the plane. He told me if I didn’t come home
then,
I shouldn’t bother coming at all.” She sighs and meets my stare again. “I’m letting him go. I’ve been unfair to him. I love him. I really, really do. But…it was different when I saw you in Glory. It’s
been
different. Probably has been forever. I’m still
in love
with you, Chance. In the worst kind of way.”
“Nothing about you loving me could ever be bad,
Spark,” I say as I pull her on top of me. Straddling me, Drew strips off her top before leaning down for a kiss. It’s sweet and soft, and I pull off my shorts and flip her to her back. We laugh and talk and fuck, and let ourselves have our fantasy for as long as we can.
T
he countdown to reality is on…
And it’s getting really close to zero.
****
El Americano
’s fights
are lore now, spun on half-truths and a lot of made-up shit. Apparently, I killed Nico Nuñez in the cage, and I beat Daniel Killian until he had a seizure, then smeared his blood on the chain-links. I can’t laugh them off or get angry because, right now, I’m worried about the
actual
truth as Drew wraps my hands in the corner of an old industrial building. Here’s what I know to be fact: there are only two fights before mine, the first one is happening right now, and Carlos’s wrath has had a lot of time to develop in preparation for this. There’s another story I hear that people are telling: after I kicked his ass at
Las Sirenas
, I fucked one of his favorite groupies in the bathroom and made her say I was better than him. Fuck my life.
“We should’ve found a replacement fighter,” Drew says. She hasn’t spoken much since
we got here.
“How? And who? You know that’s not how this works. These people are here because they came to see
me
fight Carlos. If there’s a bait-and-switch, cartels lose their audience next time and their money, and then they take it out on me. Sandrine’s ass is on the line, too. I
have
to be here…”
Right then
, Miguel walks toward us, an excited expression on his face. “Listen to this…I just overheard a guy telling someone how he bet close to five grand on you tonight…”
Shit.
I groan. “You’re not helping, Mig…” If I lose, I might not have to worry about Carlos because the audience will literally want a piece of me.
He
shakes his head and waves his hands. “No, that’s not the part I wanted to tell you. It got my attention, so I looked over at him and I noticed he was missing two fingers. Ring and pinkie on his right hand. Gone. Right at the knuckles. Weird, right? And I’m thinking, ‘
Holy shit.
That’s just like—’”
“My dad,” I
interrupt as a chill shimmies up my back. I had recently shared the entire uncut story of my misfortune with him. There’s someone with a similar injury here gambling on fights when I suspect that’s how my dad got himself into trouble. That’s a hell of a coincidence. “What did he look like? Where’d he go?”
“
Gringo. Gray hair and beard. He’s in jeans and a polo shirt. He looks like an out-of-place tourist. I saw him over there…” Miguel points in the general direction.
Shit. It even sounds like my dad.
Before I can go find the guy, Drew grabs my shoulder.
“What are you going to do? Just walk up to
him, gawk at his hand, and ask him—”
“If he and some cartel guy played
This Little Piggie
with pliers? Yes, baby, I am.” I haven’t been able to disregard my skepticism about my father’s story, and even if it won’t change anything, at this point it’s just to prove myself right.
“He’s not going
to tell you anything.”
“Well, talking to him is going to keep me calm for the next few minutes
, if I can focus on something other than how I might be short a set of intestines before the night ends.”
“Don’t joke like that!” she yells after me as I push into the crowd. It’s dangerously electric in here, like a loose live wire is flailing
around, like I might actually get electrocuted if I touch enough people at the same time. A chemical scent is thick in the air, and discarded moldy, broken crate pieces are stacked in the corners. The only real remnants of the factory’s old life are the leftover equipment still bolted to the floor. Soft moonlight spills in through the windows that line the walls, and the dim lights overhead flicker intermittently. Everywhere my eyes land there’s an armed man in a ski mask patrolling and checking out the asses of the women who walk by.
The man I’m looking for isn’t easy to spot in here, and it takes me a few rotations to find him leaning against the wall in a poorly lit corner. It’s not my dad
but the man is surprised to see me walking toward him.