“Yes.”
He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling my body against him. Then he kicks my legs apart.
“Open for me.”
My cheeks flame, but the rest of me is burning so hot even the wetness between my thighs won’t be able to put out the fire. I part my legs, and he shoves my panties aside, stroking through my folds with a thick, firm finger. Then he rips my panties away.
My lungs seize. My heart skips a beat. Flashbacks slice through my arousal, and I gasp, my fingers digging into his arm, nails cutting his skin. “Oh God…I…”
He cuts me off with a kiss, this one hard and urgent, his hand cupping the back of my head, holding me still as he forces my lips apart. “That’s it. Use me,” he growls. “If something is scaring you, holding you back, give it to me. I want your pain, Sia.”
He does not lie. His cock, thick and hard as steel, presses against my abdomen, rigid beneath his jeans.
I tighten my grip on his arm, clawing his skin, imagining the memories are flowing through my fingertips and into him, where they are beaten away by the sheer force of his presence, solid and unyielding beneath me. My tension eases. I release him and gasp when I see blood on his skin.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “And you didn’t hurt me. The harder you hold, the more I get off.”
Ray glides his fingers through my folds and up to my throbbing nub. I know the exact moment he feels my piercing because he jerks his hand away.
“Surprise number two,” I say.
His sharp intake of breath, followed by an appreciative growl is all the reassurance I need, and I smile.
“Christ.” Crouching down, he stares at the little barbell piercing my clitoral hood. “You’ve pierced your clit too.”
“Just the hood. It’s a VGH piercing.”
He gently touches the top and bottom of the little barbell. My clit throbs in response and I moan.
“Does that feel good?”
“Oh, yes.”
He touches it again—strokes, wiggles, plays.
“Why did you do it?” He pushes himself to his feet, his brow creased.
“I…” How do I explain my rationale without explaining what happened to me? And after Peter’s brutal reaction, I am not telling him that story. I don’t want tears or sympathy. I don’t want to be treated like glass. And I don’t want my past to be baggage that will chase Ray away. I just want to be normal. “It makes me feel…sexy.”
Ray’s eyes blaze, his breathing raw and ragged. “You are sexy. Damn sexy. You don’t need anything to make you that way.” Bold now, he cups my sex, pressing his palm against my piercing. I suck in a sharp breath and rock my hips against him, need coiling tight in my core. “What’s it like?”
“Again…you’re the first, but don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late.” He spins me around, one hand spanning my stomach while he pulls me back against him. “Arms up and around my neck. That work for you?”
“Yes.” I do as he asks, my body arching as I reach behind me, my breasts thrusting up and out for his tormenting pleasure.
“Very nice.” He cups my left breast, gently tugging my nipple ring as his fingers trace soft circles over my skin. “I don’t know what to play with first.”
Looking back over my shoulder, I brush my lips over his cheek. “Play with all of me.”
“Oh, I will.”
While he torments my nipple with one hand, he glides the other down my body, resting his fingers on my mound, just above my piercing. When I jerk my hips, trying to let him know I want more, he toys with the little barbell, stroking, pressing, wiggling, testing, driving my arousal up so fast, I am whimpering and rocking against his hand in minutes.
“You’re so fucking wet. Hot.”
His words fuel my fire and I moan. “You going to talk about it? Or are you going to do something about it?”
Ray chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” And then he thrusts one thick finger deep inside me.
“Oh God.” I breathe out my pleasure at the exquisite intrusion.
“Fuck you’re tight.” He groans and presses his finger deeper. “Been a while?”
“Kind of a personal question, don’t you think?”
He draws his finger out and then drives two fingers into my slit. “Ah, well then. Wouldn’t want to get personal while my fingers are in your pussy. Maybe I’ll take them out and we can talk.”
My sex tightens around him, and I moan when he strokes his fingers against my sensitive inner walls.
“Don’t want me to take them out? You want me to fuck you with these fingers? Make you scream?”
Fists clenched tight behind his neck, back arched, nipples rock hard, I grind against his thrusting fingers. “Yes. Please. Yes.”
“How long? Answer the question.”
Panting, my wetness dripping down my thighs, so aroused I can barely think, I moan my answer. “Over a year. Gave up because the guys I met didn’t do it for me.”
“Because you needed me,” he rasps, his cock pressed tight against my ass. “You needed a real man. A man who can drive you up and take you down until you are begging him to let you come. A man who can make you come with a flick of his fingers.”
“Like you.” I groan and rock my hips toward him. I’ve never needed to come so badly in my life.
“Like me. Now, touch your breasts.” His voice is a sensual, husky rumble in my ear and I lower my hands and cup by breasts, alternating between squeezing and flicking my nipples with my thumbs. My head falls back against Ray’s shoulder and I draw in a ragged breath.
“That’s right.” He presses a third finger into my sex, stretching me, filling me as he glides slowly in and out, pressing the pads of his fingers along my sensitive spot, his palm resting on my piercing, rubbing the tiny barbell against my swollen nub. Frantic with need, I ride his fingers, driving my ass against the steel of his erection. Tension coils inside me, building so quickly that, for a moment, I forget to breathe.
Out
of
control
. My skin prickles and my chest tightens in warning.
“Come for me, beautiful girl.” His voice, deep and low, coils around me like a rope, binding me to his will. “Come all over my hand. Give it up to me.”
His words, his voice, sizzle to the most primal part of my brain. Naughty words. Dirty words. Arousing words. I writhe against him as he draws me to my peak, alternating the pressure on my clit with the deep thrust of his fingers until I am wound so tight my body trembles and the part of me that screams for me to run is drowned by the betraying thunder of my desire as it pounds through my veins. But it takes his hand tangling in my hair, yanking my head back so hard my eyes water, his lips hard on mine, to release me.
And then I’m gone, lost in the firestorm of a climax that sweeps through my body, a blaze of incredible pleasure that rips a scream from my throat and takes me past the point of no return.
After a panting pause, Ray withdraws his fingers and spins me around to face him, pulling me against his body. His erection presses into my stomach and I reach between us to stroke along his length. But when I tug on his fly, he stays my hand.
“Not tonight.”
“But…don’t you want…need?” I give him a tentative smile. “I’m not selfish, you know. And I have a condom in my purse.”
Ray stiffens then places a soft kiss on my forehead. “I want you so bad, I can barely keep it together. But knowing myself, the way I am right now, if I take it any further, I’ll hurt you.”
“I won’t break. Hard. Rough. I don’t care. I want you inside me.” For a moment, I am back in the dark years, when I thought mindlessly fucking strangers would wipe Luke’s touch away. But Ray isn’t a stranger. And I have no point to prove, except that I want him. I have wanted him since the day I first saw him in the ring.
Gaze locked to his, I tug on his belt. When he doesn’t move, I pull it open, then yank on his fly. The button pops, and I draw the zipper down, inch by slow inch, letting my fingers graze over his shaft, which is straining against his fly.
He stills when I drop to my knees and pull his clothing over his hips. His erection springs free, hard, heavy, and so big it takes my breath away. Body tense and quivering, jaw tight, he makes no move to help me save for stepping out of his clothing when I drop them to the floor.
I lick my lips, wondering how he might taste, but when I reach for his thick shaft, he fists my hair and pulls me up, leaving me under no illusions about who is in control.
“This is what you want?” His voice is hollow, his eyes so dark they are almost black, and for the first time, I wonder if I’ve made the right decision.
“Yes.”
He guides me across the floor to what must have been the main work area. Scrapes and patches on the floor indicate where the heavy equipment must have been, pieces of cardboard and small, gray piles of metal dust cling to the side of the wall. Ray stops in front of a worn, wooden workbench pushed up against the wall, the grease stains barely visible in the semidarkness. Then he pushes me down on the cool, hard surface.
“Don’t move.”
His feet thud over the floor. I hear the rustle of clothing and the crinkle of a condom wrapper. Then he is back. One hand presses against my lower back, holding me firm against the table, and the other twists in my hair, making me arch, my ass rubbing against his hips.
“I can’t be gentle.” His voice is raw, husky with need, low with warning. “For a coupla hours after a fight, I got no gentleness in me.”
“You’ve been pretty gentle so far.”
“That was the getting to know you bit.” With a low groan, he kicks my legs apart, his fingers diving into my swollen pussy. I moan and rock against his touch, need building afresh. My breaths turn to pants, and he draws his fingers out, slicking my wetness up and around my clit, bumping against the piercing until lust fuzzes my brain, my body heats, and a cold sweat prickles my skin.
Nonononononono
. Not now. This is what I wanted. Hot, wild, rough animal sex. No strings. No attachments. Just pure physical pleasure.
Before the panic takes hold, he thrusts inside me, pushing through my sensitive tissue. Hard, fast, and so deep my breath catches in my throat. Before I can get used to his thickness, the fullness, the delight of having him inside me, he withdraws and thrusts again, deeper this time, hitting my cervix and making me gasp.
“You okay?”
Am I okay? Trapped between panic and desire, my body thrumming with need, my mind screaming of danger, I force a word from my lips. A lie. A challenge. A deep, desperate desire to be normal. “Yes.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sia.” He reaches around and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, then pushes it inside my mouth. “Bite. Give it to me, beautiful girl.”
I bite. As hard as I dare. Ray groans and grips my hip with his free hand, then hammers into me, his shaft sliding over my sensitive inner walls. My piercing vibrates against my clit with his every thrust, and my nipples rub against the gritty surface of the table. Too much. Too many sensations. My arousal builds fast and fierce, spiraling out of control, and when he reaches around to stroke my clit, I am gone, screaming at the shock of an orgasm so intense I feel like I am being ripped apart by pleasure. Ray slides his thumb from my mouth and his rhythm quickens. Fingers dig into my hips and his body tenses, straining as he comes, his shaft pulsing inside me.
He collapses over my back, feathering soft kisses against my neck, but as my pleasure fades, something dark takes its place—the PTSD that will not go away. My lungs seize and I stiffen, squeezing my eyes shut as I rasp in a breath.
Ray pulls me up and wraps his arms around me. “I hurt you.”
“No.” Alarmed he would blame himself, I wrap my arms over his. If he would just hold me, make me feel safe, I’ll be okay. But he pulls away.
“You should have told me to stop.” He scrapes his hand through his hair. “You should have told me it was too much. I’ve got no limits. When I lose it, I lose it, and you threaten my control like no one else.”
Curiously, his distress eases my anxiety. “It wasn’t too much,” I say softly. “You need to stop worrying you’re going to hurt me. And I didn’t want you to stop. It was just…very intense. I’ll be okay.”
But I’m not okay. Gritting my teeth, I try to breathe through waves of panic as I search for my clothes, drawing slow, deep breaths, counting in my head, taking comfort in the familiarity of getting dressed. I did what I had promised myself I would never do. I gave up control, left myself open, vulnerable, and my subconscious couldn’t deal. I played with fire and I got burned.
Silence weighs heavy in the air between us. We tidy the fight area and lock up the building. I follow Ray to his bike, wishing for the first time ever that Tag was here to take me home.
Ray’s Harley Softail is huge, heavily chromed, and oozes sex. Ironic how only a few hours ago, I would have killed for a ride on his bike, and now it is the last place I want to be.
Ray hands me the second helmet, and I fasten it under my chin and slide onto the pillion seat behind him. He points out the passenger pegs, two silver bars with little skulls on the ends, and I position my feet, then wrap my hands around his waist. Moments later, the engine thrums between my legs and we shoot off into the night. My body molds into his. My breasts press tight against his broad back, my hips grind into his ass. This is going to be one hell of a ride.
Too bad it will be my last.
Hand
“What am I going to do?” Jess sobs, and grabs another tissue from the box on my living room table, an upside-down polar bear holding the glass with his feet. “How many years did I wait and then, suddenly, out of the blue, Tag shows up and expects me to still be waiting for him? It’s ruined my weekend. No. It’s ruined my life.”
“Well…you
were
still waiting for him last week,” I say. “And Tag wasn’t expecting you to be waiting for him. He says he’s too busy for a relationship, but he’s happy for you.”
She blows her nose and tosses the tissue at the already overflowing trash can. My bright blue area rug is already dotted with tissues as is the huge, overstuffed white couch she’s sitting on. Although I always wear black when I go out, my house is a riot of primary colors, a throwback to the old me.
“There’s nothing to be happy about. It’s just casual with Blade Saw. I mean, I like him. If it weren’t for Tag, I’d think about something more serious with him. He’s fun, he’s got an amazing body, he’s hot in bed, he’s a wicked fighter¸ and he’s…nice.”
“Nice?”
Jess shrugs. “He does nice things. He shows up at my office with a packed lunch. He picks me up from parties if it’s dark, no questions asked. He’ll lie for hours with me in the park while I work on my tan, pick up my dry cleaning, make me dinner if I’m tired, and rub my feet. He’ll even walk my dog if I have to work late.”
“He sounds like someone’s dad.”
She gives me an affronted stare. “Well, he doesn’t talk like someone’s dad. His language is a little crude.
Hooters
and
tits
aren’t my favorite words to describe my breasts, and I prefer
big
to
humongous
.” Her lips twist to the side. “I especially don’t like
juicy
or
cu
—”
“I get it. I don’t need to hear it.”
With a dramatic sigh, she throws herself back on the cushions—blue to match the carpet and drapes, and yellow to match the dining table that I forced Tag to carry home from a nearby flea market.
“I can’t get serious with Blade Saw if there is even the smallest chance Tag is interested. And I think there is. Don’t you think so? Did you see his face last night when he saw Blade Saw’s arm around me? And the way he interrupted Rampage to find out what was going on? If that wasn’t interest, what was it?”
“Friendship.” I stretch out on the couch, basking in the late-afternoon sun. This is the closest I’ve come to relaxing since Ray dropped me at home after our encounter in the machine shop last night.
“Either way, I’m screwed.” With an exaggerated sigh, she flings herself back on a couch that’s a twin to the one I’m on. “They train in the same gym. How awkward would that be if I dumped one for the other?”
I twist my ring around my finger. “About as awkward as me having to see Ray at the gym after what happened last night.”
Jess, of course, knows everything. Five minutes after Ray dropped me at home, I was on the phone to her.
“I need the potato chips.” She reaches out her hand, and I lean over and hand her the bag.
“Chips don’t make for a healthy lunch.”
She stuffs a chip in her mouth and glares. “Look who’s talking. You had them for breakfast and lunch.”
“I’m depressed.”
Jess snorts. “I thought you said it was the best, most mind-blowing sex of your life.”
Hugging a pillow, I frown. “It was also the most terrifying. I felt totally out of control. It was like my body was chugging full-steam ahead and my brain was trying to catch up. Everything he said and did, the way he talked and touched me…it turned me on so much, I couldn’t think. I was like a puppet. He said turn, I turned. He said spread ’em, and I spread. And afterward, I felt so anxious and empty inside. With Charlie and James, I felt closer to them after we had sex, even though I never came. With Ray, I came so hard I screamed, but I felt something was missing…me.”
Jess crunches a chip. “You probably needed to ease into it, since it had been so long…soft lights, warm bed, a little music, lots of cuddle time, but unfortunately, you decided to dive in the deep end, lose your piercing virginity, and have sex in a freezing cold ex–machine shop with a fighter after a fight who warned you he would be rough, without telling him about your past. Does that about sum it up?”
She grabs a Twizzler and sticks it into her cooler, using it as a straw. Curious, I do the same and my tongue burns at the burst of sugary sweetness.
“He doesn’t need to know about my past. I’m over it. I’m ready to have a normal relationship, but not with him.”
“Seriously,” she continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “the entire thing sounds so hot that I wanted to combust while you were telling me about it. He’s not Charlie or James, falling over themselves to make sure they don’t hurt you or flip your triggers. Guys like Ray only hold back so much. They named him the Predator for a reason. He’s like a wild animal. You’ve seen him in the ring. You only think you’ve tamed him, but show him a piece of raw meat, and instinct will override rational thought. You want a foot rub and a bubble bath, find a man like Charlie. You want someone to spank your ass raw and make you come so hard you scream, Ray’s your man.”
The sugar burn fades and I take another sip. “Nice. I feel so much better thinking I’m like a piece of raw meat to him. And he didn’t spank me.”
“I meant it as a compliment. And the spanking will come. Guys like him love to spank. It’s the ultimate dominant trait. Marks you in the most primal way.” She shoves a handful of chips in her mouth, forcing me to wait through her crunches for her more experienced insight.
I roll my eyes and grab the chip bag. “I hardly think having sex with him once means I’m marked as his. It was just sex. Raw sex. No emotions involved. It’s exactly what I need. I’m not capable of sustaining an intimate relationship. I have trust issues because of what happened. I learned that with Charlie and James.”
“They weren’t right for you,” she says softly. “That’s why you couldn’t have an intimate relationship. It has nothing to do with Luke. And not only that, you weren’t honest with them. You pretended to come. You pretended to love them. Then you pushed them away. You never even gave them a chance.”
“Since when did you become an amateur psychologist?”
Her cheeks brighten. “Blade Saw is taking psych at night school. He tells me lots of stuff.”
“And did he mark you in a primal way?” Sarcasm imbues my tone, but Jess doesn’t seem to mind.
“Blade Saw isn’t like that. He’s not an alpha fighter. He’s a beta. He enjoys fighting, but he likes the social aspect too. So yeah, we have sex, but he’s not going to pound on anyone who looks at me the wrong way, or attack someone if he found out I was cheating on him. He would be more like, ‘well if he’s what you want. I’m just glad you’re happy.’”
“I can’t see Ray chilling over something like that.”
“Definitely not.” She lifts an eyebrow. “I’m surprised he hasn’t called you already. Alpha males are very possessive once they’ve marked their territory. He’ll want to know you’re still his.”
I groan and drop back on the couch. “He did call. I just didn’t answer.”
“You should call him back.” She grabs a napkin from the table and dabs her lips. “Invite him over to see your vast collection of sex toys. That should smooth things over.”
“I don’t want to call him. What if I’ve made another mistake? What if that was my subconscious saying, ‘You fucked up again and trusted the wrong guy’? That dark feeling was a warning. Some part of me is trying to save me from myself.”
“Is that how you really feel?” She tilts her head to the side, her eyes questioning.
“No.” I wrap my arms around myself and meet her gaze. “It was utterly the most exciting and thrilling experience I’ve ever had. It was like he plucked my fantasies out of my head. Not only that, but he said he had no limits. It almost sent me over the edge. Imagine. He would make my deepest, darkest fantasies come true. All I have to do is ask.”
Jess swings her legs off the couch and checks her watch. “I think you’re just scared. You went from having nice, gentle sex with guys who only knew one position and were too afraid to try anything else because of what happened to you, to going full throttle with a man who is clearly vastly more experienced, very dominant, and drips sex appeal. You should have brought him home, where you feel safe. Told him what happened to you. Given yourself enough time for a post-sex cuddle.”
“I’m not going to tell him.” My chest tightens and I crumple the empty chip bag in my fist. “I’m not telling anyone ever again. That’s over. Done. I’m going to be normal if it kills me.”
My phone buzzes, and I fumble around until I find it on the kitchen island, then check the text messages.
“Who is it?”
“Rampage.” My lips quiver when I read the text. “He’s at Redemption. He says the Predator’s there. He’s all chuffed that the Predator had him track me down because he feels like the go-to man at Redemption. He said the Predator threatened to bounce him around the ring if he didn’t find me and make sure I was okay because I wasn’t answering my phone.”
Jess stretches out on the couch again and crosses her legs. “Isn’t Rampage a super heavyweight? Why would he even be worried about the Predator’s threats? He could probably just sit on him to quiet him down.”
“He’s
the
Predator
. You’ve seen him fight. Rampage wouldn’t stand a chance. He’s big but he’s slow.”
My phone buzzes again. Rampage says now that he knows I’m okay, everyone is heading over to Renegade and Amanda’s place for a party. Since I have the day off, I should come and bring Jess too.
Jess and I debate the merits of going to the party. She wants to see Tag. No, she doesn’t want to see Tag. She wants to see Blade Saw. No, she doesn’t want to see Blade Saw because now she’s thinking of breaking up with him for Tag. But what if Tag doesn’t really want her? She’ll have no one. Or worse, what if they both want her and get into a fight? She licks her lips. That would be pretty awesome to watch. Okay, she’ll come.
But I’m not sure if I’m going. What if Doctor Death is there? What if Ray is there? How will I explain why I just left him with a quick “good night” out on the street after he dropped me off? And what will I say when he asks why I didn’t answer his calls? And what if he wants to talk about last night? What will I say? Normal people don’t have an emotional crisis after hot sex. Normal people don’t suddenly worry they’ve misplaced their trust.
Jess drags me into my bedroom and paws through my neatly organized closet. What if, she says, he’s not the kind of guy to push? What if he just smiles and says hi and offers me a cooler, and we chill at the party and have a good time?
* * *
Two hours later, Jess and I are drinking coolers in the backyard of Renegade and Amanda’s house. Renegade is manning the barbecue. Makayla and Amanda are chatting with Hammer Fist, and Torment is glowering by the fence, no doubt keeping the nonexistent predators away from his woman. Rampage has gathered a group of newbie fighters around him to share stories about Redemption when it was a gritty, underground fight club, and deliciously dark and ripped Obsidian is trying to out arm lift Shayla on a tree branch.
“See? We had nothing to worry about.” Jess clinks bottles with me. “No Tag. No Blade Saw. No Doctor Death. No Predator. Although it’s kind of a waste that we’re all dressed up and the men who would appreciate us aren’t around to…well, appreciate us. Maybe we shouldn’t have worn skirts and heels.”
“Jinx.”
Jess widens her eyes. “Who’s here?”
“Blade Saw. He’s spotted you and he’s smiling a
humongous
smile.”
Jess glares and turns away. “If you need me, I’ll be hiding in the crowd with Rampage’s minions.”
“Hey, kitten.” Obsidian gives me a warm smile when I join him by the oak tree. Shayla is in the middle of a set of pull-ups, her ripped body glistening with sweat, yet she still manages to nod a greeting.
“So who’s winning?” I sip my cooler and Obsidian lifts an eyebrow.
“Me.”
“Not. For. Much. Fucking. Longer.” Shayla grunts out each word as her body moves smoothly up and down, her elbows operating like well-oiled hinges.
“You want to go next?” Obsidian squeezes my bicep between his thumb and forefinger. “Looks like you’ve got a bit of strength and she’s already slowing down.”
Shayla spits out a curse and increases her pace.
“I don’t think I could even do one. Plus I’m wearing a skirt and heels. Not optimal attire for pull-ups.”
“Hand.” The barked command from across the yard startles Obsidian. He jerks back, ripping his hand off my arm so quickly he loses his balance and steps back into Shayla, knocking her off the tree. Shayla is on her feet in two seconds and battering at Obsidian in three.
“You did that on purpose. I was almost at one hundred. You knew I would win.”
Someone yells
fight
. Someone else cheers. I am almost crushed in the stampede of excited fighters, saved only by a firm arm around my waist and an even firmer body protecting me from the excited horde.
“That was you?” I look up as Ray leads me to the safety of the patio. “You yelled ‘hand’?”
“He had his hand on you,” Ray says, unsmiling.
“He was just joking around.” I wave at the crowd, now three deep around the tree. “Look what you did.”
Ray scowls in Obsidian’s direction. “He knows better. Would have dealt with him, but Shayla beat me to it.”
And she is doing a good job too. Obsidian is already on the grass and Shayla is trying to twist him into a painful submission while everyone shouts encouragement.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I lean against the low, stone retaining wall. “I think it was a little OTT. I mean, it’s not like we’re…you know…together.” I suck in my lips and look away.
“We were together last night.” Ray lifts me and settles me on top of the wall, then eases himself between my legs. “If that didn’t work for you, let me know.”
Didn’t work for me? What the heck is he talking about? Does he think I faked those orgasms? Or that I wanted him to go farther? Does he want an assessment of his A+ performance?