Underground 4 (5 page)

“Let me know if you hear or see anything,” he said, his voice still low.

Phoenix nodded. The feel of him just standing close to her back was starting to drive her wild. She’d been locked in cell for who knows how long, and apparently her body was starved for any human contact – even that of Trent’s. That was the only reasonable explanation for both of their strange behaviour.

Unable to stand it any longer, she looked over her shoulder at him, wondering why he was still standing there. She needed to get back to her musings, and he was interrupting them. She raised both eyebrows in question, silently asking if there was anything else.

A corner of his lips tipped up slightly, his eyes sparkling with something she couldn’t name, right before he leaned in and covered her lips with his. She gasped in shock, allowing him to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring, demanding. To her utter horror, her knees actually grew weak, and she felt herself wobble under his assault on her senses. Before she could do something horribly girlie like swoon, she felt his arm wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

Everything around her seemed to melt away as she tentatively started to kiss him back, her tongue meeting his in a sensual caress. What the hell were they doing? She wasn’t sure, but for once she didn’t care. The man knew how to kiss, damn it. It was making her skin heat to the point where she thought she might burst. Never in her life had she been kissed like this.

So absorbed was she in the feel of him, it took her a second to hear the soldiers calling out to them to stop. Taking his time, as though he had no care in the world, or that they weren’t surrounded by guards who held them captive, he slowly ended the kiss, drawing it out until she almost moaned at the loss of him when he finally broke away completely.

“What the hell was that?” she whispered, unable to put as much vehemence into her voice as she would have liked.

“Another perk,” he said with a wink.

Perk? What the fuck?
Taking a step away from him, she turned so their bodies were fully facing each other, and she contemplated kicking him the balls right then. She would have – she told herself - if they weren’t surrounded by enemies and each other’s only allies. Oh yes, if the situation were any different, this guy would be eating his testicles for dinner.

“You two need to back away from each other,
now,
” one of the guards demanded, his face scarlet with anger.

“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?” said the other man.

Trent turned from him, giving the men a lazy grin. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “we’re just having some fun. No harm done.”

She narrowed her death glare at him, but he wasn’t looking at her to truly appreciate the rage being directed his way.

“You need to go to the other side of the gym, where you’re supposed to be,” the first guy ordered.

“And you need to go back to your cell,” said the other, turning his attention to Phoenix. “You’re done for the day.”

She threw up her hands, backing away from the three of them. “Don’t worry boys,” she said, meeting Trent’s gaze for a moment before she turned. “I’ve had my fill of beefcake for one day.”

He needed to get a hold of himself. The plan had been just to pretend to be flirting with Phoenix, so he could get close enough to speak to her without anyone else overhearing them. What had happened instead was a fucking mystery to him. There was something about the scent of Phoenix that always seemed to drive him nuts.

The taste and feel of her on his lips lingered as she left the room with one of the guards. Giving himself a good shake, Trent started hitting the same bag she had, working out the tension that had suddenly washed over him.

What was it about the little hellcat that set him off? He didn’t know. What he did know was that there was some sort of spark between them that was undeniable. Even if both of them would deny it all they could. The second his lips had met hers, he’d been lost. All he’d wanted to do was deepen it even more until she was fused into him, and he in her. It was definitely something that needed to stop.

Or did it? He continued to rain down punches on the bag as his mind whirled with thoughts of what it might be like if the two of them just had some fun together. Would that be so bad? Obviously they couldn’t have an actual relationship. They couldn’t even stand one another. He shuddered to think what it would be like if they were actually a couple. He could only imagine how often they would fight.

But if it was just a bit of fun, that couldn’t hurt, could it? Two consenting adults, working off a bit of steam was perfectly normal. How would he approach such a topic with someone like Phoenix though?

He gave himself another shake. There was no way he could suggest such a thing. He could just picture the look on her face if he did. She’d likely slap him in the face, rather than agree to an arrangement like that.

Still, it was tempting. Trent couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman. Maybe that was why he was thinking these thoughts about Phoenix, of all people. It didn’t hurt that she also happened to be hot as hell. It was too bad her personality clashed with his so much. They were both too stubborn and opinionated. These were pointless thoughts, he knew. Despite whatever burned between them, it would never happen.

Continuing with his reps, he didn’t notice the others who had entered since Phoenix’s departure until something small and black caught his eye from his peripheral vision. He looked over, his heart almost stopping at the sight there.

Pixie was stretching on the far side of the room, her face its usual indifferent exterior as she surveyed the area. Their eyes met, and relief so strong washed over him at seeing her safe and sound, he almost broke out into a grin.

He needed to know where she’d been and what had been happening, but wasn’t sure how to get close enough. Guards watched from the sidelines, but none seemed to be too focused on him. Moving quickly, Trent made his way over to Pixie.

The guards were about to think very little of him, but he didn’t give a shit. He needed answers, and the only way to get them was to play the same game he had with Phoenix. He just prayed Pixie didn’t turn around and knee him in the balls.

Trent cringed at the thought, but didn’t let it stop his advancement across the room. Pixie bent forward, stretching her hamstrings as he approached her. Trent let out a low whistle, partly to keep up the ruse, but mostly to warn her of his advance.

“Looking good,” he said, loud enough for anyone else to hear, so they just figured he was hitting on another fighter.

Pixie straightened, one brow cocked at him in question. He was used to Pixie’s looks. The girl didn’t speak much, but her expressions usually spoke volumes. The one she was levelling at him now told him his comment and demeanour were not appreciated. Stepping closer to her, he made a show of being interested in her, while he dropped his voice to a mere whisper.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked.

Both eyebrows rose at this, and he knew if she were Phoenix he’d be having his ears seared off with expletives right then.

“We’ve been worried,” he added, to soften her reaction. He could tell it worked as the stiffness of her posture relaxed slightly.

She looked over his shoulder, her eyes scanning the room, before responding. “Bastian has me in a room close to his,” she replied.

Trent sucked in a breath of surprise. “Why?”

“He’s on to us,” she said, still scanning the area. “He knows something is up, and has decided keeping me close so he can watch me will make a difference. I need to warn Garrett and Missy so they don’t do anything stupid.”

Trent cursed under his breath. “Are you locked in?”

She nodded. Opening her mouth to say something else, she stopped herself, her eyes going wide at something behind him.

Knowing a guard probably approached, he raised his voice again, wrapping his arm around her waist. “What’s the matter, baby, you don’t like what you see?”

Her gaze flew to his in warning, but she didn’t say anything as footsteps stopped near them.

“Get your fucking hands off her.”

Trent looked over his shoulder to find a very pissed-off looking Bastian glaring at him. He looked back to Pixie, wondering why the man was so mad, but saw just as much confusion there as there probably was on his own face.

“You have two seconds to step away from her before I beat the shit out of you,” Bastian warned, his voice a growl.

Trent unwound his arm, moving back slowly with both hands raised. He didn’t know what was going on, but clearly he missed something. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn jealousy was clearly written on Sebastian Black’s face as he looked at the two of them.

CHAPTER FIVE

“You seem to be making your rounds today,” Bastian said, stepping closer to Trent. It took him a second to realize it, but the man had conveniently positioned himself between Trent and Pixie. What the hell was going on?

Forcing himself to appear relaxed, he gave him a grin, shrugging nonchalantly. “You know how it is. I’m just trying to have some fun. It’s been a while,” Trent replied. A while was an understatement, he thought.

Bastian took another step toward him, his eyes darkening with anger. “Let me tell you
how it is,
” he bit out. “If I see you touching her, or even near her again, I will personally see to it that you truly experience just how much worse this place can be. You think this is a game?”

Trent opened his mouth to reply but another voice cut through the tension.

“Bastian, calm down.”

Both men turned, stunned, at the calm voice. Pixie wasn’t looking at him, her eyes trained on Bastian. Trent could count on one hand how many times he’d actually heard Pixie talk. To hear her command the man in front of him so simply left Trent speechless himself. Shockingly, it seemed to have the desire effect.

Bastian finally tore his gaze away from Pixie, releasing a deep breath. Looking at Trent again, it was plain to see he was still pissed, but controlling it now. “You want fun? You're in the ring tonight. How's that for fun?” He jerked his head toward the practice ring. “Get in there and let’s see how you do against the new guy.”

Trent turned around to see Tyler standing just inside the ropes, his eyes watching the three of them curiously. Shit. Trent was not looking forward to sparring Tyler. They'd have to make it look real, and looking at Tyler now, he knew this was going to hurt. With a resigned sigh, Trent approached the ring while keeping an eye on Pixie as well.

She and Bastian said something to each other, her little hands balling into fists at her side showing she was clearly not happy with the man. Then Bastian stepped closer to her, blocking Trent's view.

He wished he could hear what they were saying, but whatever it was, it ended with Pixie stomping off toward the corner where Tyler was leaning. She hopped up on the outside of the ring, the two of them bending their heads together to speak lowly.

Trent looked back at Bastian to see him watching them through narrowed eyes. Feeling his gaze on him, Bastian met his eyes, anger simmering in their blue depths.

“Get in the fucking ring,” he barked, finally moving, his whole body visibly tense.

Trent bit back the smirk threatening to break out. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear the man was having a grown up version of a tantrum the way he stormed out of the room. Trent watched him leave, then turned to see he wasn't the only one. Pixie's eyes followed the man as well, an angry blush coloring her cheeks. Something was going on, but he sure as hell had no idea what.

Slipping through the ropes, he rolled his shoulders, stepping up to meet Tyler in the middle. They grinned at each other, despite where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. This was too similar to all the times in the past when they'd both been soldiers in the General's rebel forces, sparring for fun.

“You ready for this?” he asked, hopping from foot to foot.

Tyler laughed, scratching his beard, unfazed. “Are you?” he replied, his brogue thick. “I don't think you know what you're up against, brother.”

His smile stretched even wider. “I'm not scared of you, Scott.”

Tyler's deep laughter rang out through the room. “If you say so.”

It didn't take long for Trent to realize how stupid this comment really was. If there was anything scarier than this new Tyler, he didn't know what it was. The man was a fighting machine, too fast and skilled for even Trent to contemplate.

By the end, the whole room had stopped to watch them, and Trent was left bent over in his corner, fighting to get air into his lungs. Tyler stood calmly in the opposite corner hardly breaking a sweat, Pixie watching from behind him with a blank face.

“Looks like you finally met your match,” Bastian said from the sidelines. Trent hadn’t even noticed he'd returned to watch them. “Not such a hot shot anymore, are you?”