by Tate James
I grinned but made quick work of wrapping my hands up in the fluorescent yellow fabric. Cass had often come by to visit over the past week since our chat but seemed distracted and quick-tempered every time. He also hadn't tried to get in my pants again, and that was starting to really piss me off.
"You guys aren't going to wear gloves?" Lucas asked with a thread of concern.
Zed and I both grinned at that one, and I bounced on my slippery silk-covered toes. Hand-to-hand combat while wearing pantyhose on a vinyl mat was probably not at the top of the list for smart things to do. But it made it more fun. And if I'd given Zed time to strategize while I was getting changed, he might not be so easy to beat.
"You ready, boss?" Zed teased, his wrapped hands raised and his feet shifting into a boxer’s stance. He was shirtless—something he seemed to be doing a lot lately—and wearing just a pair of loose basketball shorts. He and Lucas had been working out for almost two hours, so a light sheen of sweat coated his hard muscles in a way that almost seemed fake.
I gave a short laugh as I shifted my weight, scanning him for weaknesses. Not that I needed to look to know; I had all of Zed's old injuries and weak points mapped out in my brain like they were my own. Trouble was, he knew all of mine too.
"Bring it on," I replied, excitement and adrenaline zapping through me. "I'll let you take the first swing." I shot him a teasing wink, and he gave a short laugh as he shook his head, relaxed.
That was my chance, and I snapped out a sharp left hook, catching him clean across the cheek.
Lucas gave a shout of surprise from the sidelines, possibly protesting the dirty trick. But Zed knew the score. He just laughed and rubbed his face as he circled away from me.
"Come on, that was an old trick," I mocked him with a snicker. "Can't believe you just fell for that."
Zed shook his head like he could hardly believe he'd fallen for it either. His eyes were sharper now, though, like he'd just remembered exactly how dirty I liked to fight. Yep, I was in for a real fight now.
I didn't even try to hide the grin of enjoyment on my lips as we started trading blows for real. Neither one of us pulled our punches—much—but we were both experienced enough that we could dodge or deflect the majority of strikes.
More of mine landed on Zed than the other way around, but I could see he was eyeing me up for a takedown move.
Not today, Satan. No way was I losing this after bragging that I could wipe the floor with him in my pencil skirt and silk blouse.
I struck before he got the chance to, sweeping his legs from under him, and heard my skirt rip all the way up the side seam. Whoops. Still, there was no sense in wasting my advantage over damage already done, so I followed through by tangling Zed up in an arm bar that tested the limits of how far his elbow would bend.
The stubborn fuck didn't tap out, though.
"Uh, Hayden, you're gonna break his arm," Lucas informed me, watching with wide eyes and his hands on his slim, toned hips.
I flashed a smile. "Nah, I won't break it. Zed just needs to man up and accept he's been beaten."
Zed chuckled a breathless sound, turning in a way that only intensified the angle of my arm bar. "Do I, though?" he taunted. His free hand reached around and slid up the side of my bare thigh. That in and of itself was almost enough to make me loosen my grip, but I quickly realized he was just playing dirty to unnerve me.
Prick.
Then his fingers hooked under one of the tight straps of my garter belt and snapped that fucker against my thigh.
The shock of it made me yelp and jerk. My grip only loosened for a split second, but it was enough for Zed to wriggle free like some kind of overgrown python.
"God dammit," I groaned, rolling to my feet and stepping back into fight stance.
Zed smirked, smug as fuck. "Told you not to fight in that outfit."
We traded a few more blows, then the gate buzzer rang and distracted Zed enough that my foot caught him straight in the face.
"Dare!" he roared from the floor, his hand to his nose.
"I'm sorry!" I shouted back, swallowing my laughter. "I thought you were going to dodge!"
"You two are insane," Lucas muttered, coming over to offer Zed a hand up. "You’d better get some ice on that." He winced as Zed took his hand away and revealed a bloody nose.
The glare Zed sent in my direction was pure malice, and I couldn't help laughing back at him.
"You're so fucking lucky you're you," he grumbled, making his way out of the gym to answer the buzzer and, probably, to ice his face.
Meanwhile, Lucas turned to face me with a certain level of respect in his eyes. "I've never seen you fight before," he commented, stepping closer and taking my hands in his to unwrap the yellow fabric.
"These days I generally use bullets to deal with my problems," I admitted with a small shrug, "but I'd be an idiot to let my skills get rusty simply because I have other people to do the dirty work for me. Complacency is what gets people in my profession assassinated."
Lucas gave me a look that bordered on adoration and dipped his head to kiss me lightly. "That's why you're Hades," he murmured, "because you actually think these things through. I'm all kinds of impressed."
"Oh yeah?" I replied, rising up to kiss him back. "How impressed?"
His arms banded around my waist, pulling me against his hard body as his lips answered my question. I groaned into his kiss and hooked a leg up around his waist in a clear invitation to pin me against the nearest flat surface and fuck me stupid. But Zed’s and Cass's voices echoed down the hallway, and I reluctantly peeled myself off Lucas. Not that I was trying to hide anything, but Cass was still being odd, and I needed to get to the bottom of that without pissing him off first.
"You responsible for this?" Cass asked Lucas, jerking a nod at Zed's face—or, rather, at the icepack he held to the bridge of his nose.
Lucas grinned. "Nah, that was Hayden."
One of those sly, sexy smiles curved Cass's lips. "That makes more sense."
"Screw you, Saint," Zed snarled. "I'd like to see you spar with her. She'd have you begging for mercy in no time."
Cass's eyes met mine, flaring with a heat that went straight to my pussy. Fuck me, I didn't need to be a mind reader to see exactly what was going through his mind as his gaze traveled down my body, taking in my ripped skirt and ruffled hair. I doubted it would be Cass begging for mercy if we were alone right now.
"On the topic of fighting," he said slowly, his eyes still hot on my body while he ran a hand over his short beard, "I heard Crusher got checked into rehab today."
My brows shot up, and Zed spat a curse. Crusher was one of our headliners for a fight night at the end of the month. It was one of the biggest events on Anarchy's books to date, and the big top was completely sold out. If he was in rehab...
"What for?" Zed asked, his brow creased with frustration. "Is it something that just needs a quick detox or—"
"Nothing so innocent," Cass cut him off with an irritated grunt. "He's in for PCP addiction."
"What the fuck?" I shouted, losing my cool before I could grab a hold of it.
It was a total frame job, though. One of the fighters in the event my club had been promoting for months suddenly has an addiction to angel dust? Of all the fucking drugs on the market... Nope, I didn't believe it was a coincidence for even a second.
"Why is this the first we're hearing of it?" I demanded, spearing Cass with a hard look. "How did you find out before we did?"
He quirked his scarred brow. "I've got people in the right places, Red. And I came here with a proposition."
I folded my arms, still radiating suspicion regarding how he was more in the know than my own team. Crusher not being able to fight was a huge problem. "Go on then."
He folded his arms over his chest, mirroring my stance. "Let me take Crusher's place in the fight."
Of all the propositions I could have imagined Cass bringing forth, that definitely wasn't one of them—so much so
that I just stared at him in shock for a moment.
Then Zed coughed a laugh and clapped Cass on the shoulder. "Good one, Saint. You had me going for a second there."
I didn't see any trace of joking in Cass's expression, though. My brows hitched, and I tilted my head to the side. "You're serious?"
A small, arrogant sort of smile touched his lips, and he gave a soft laugh. "I forget sometimes that you two are relatively new to Shadow Grove, not to mention how young you are." Zed made a sound of annoyance, but Cass ignored him. "Trust me, Red, my name on the billing will more than match the interest you had for Crusher. I'm doing you a favor."
Lucas cleared his throat, pulling our attention. "Uh, he's not joking, babe." His gaze shifted to Cass with admiration. "Didn't you retire on an injury about eight years ago, though?"
Cass gave a small shrug. "Officially. Then I went on to train punk-ass Reaper kids like Kody and Archer." He gave me a meaningful look, and the pieces started clicking together in my brain. Eight years ago would have been around the time he started getting groomed for his position as Zane's second within the Reapers.
Now, Archer was one of the hottest UFC fighters in the world and his best friend Kody was the founder of KJ-Fit, an MMA training gym—but I'd sidelined them both on babysitting duty with Seph.
Cass wouldn't be suggesting this if he wasn't more than up to the fight, though. So I gave him a small nod. "You sure you can beat Johnny Rock? It would be terrible PR if the leader of the Reapers got his ass kicked by a twenty-one-year-old shithead with anger management problems."
Cass scoffed. "That punk? Yeah, Red, I can handle him." His confidence legitimately made my cunt wet. It was surreal.
Neither Johnny Rock nor Crusher were pro; they fought way too dirty to ever be considered for official sponsorships. But goddamn they had huge followings. And that meant money. Fight nights could clean so much dirty money through betting and alcohol sales, it was almost laughable.
"Alright, then." I turned my attention to Zed. "Set it up."
Zed gave me a skeptical look but shrugged. "Yes, sir."
My phone started ringing in the corner, so I left the guys talking so I could answer it. When I saw the caller ID for my new legal counsel on the display, my stomach sank. Something told me she wasn't calling for a casual check in.
"Shit," I breathed, biting my lip as I slid my thumb over the phone to answer. "Gen. What's happened?"
"Hades, sir," she responded in a clipped voice. "I just heard back from the insurance company regarding 7th Circle. They've denied your claim."
Motherfuckers. Seven million dollars invested in that venue... up in smoke.
23
To my absolute frustration, Gen didn't have many more details than that. She ended the call with a promise to look further into it, and I very nearly threw my phone across the fucking room.
Furious at the insurance company, and at Chase, I ordered Zed and Cass to go to Anarchy and deal with the fight night changes. Otherwise, I was likely to end up in a blazing fight with one or both of them and end up stabbing someone.
"What can I do to help?" Lucas asked when the guys were gone.
I gave him a long look, my fist clenching and unclenching at my side. It hit me suddenly how rare it was for me to express my emotions around other people, whether good or bad. Yet when I'd just been given that bad news, it hadn't even crossed my mind to internalize my fury and frustration. It'd just felt so natural to let it out, to let these men see me and everything I was feeling.
Fuck. It shook me.
"Nothing," I said after a moment to take a calming breath. "Nothing. Just... there's nothing I can do until I hear back from Gen with the official report. I'm going to get changed, then come work out down here for a while."
He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Want company or..."
I started to shake my head, then paused and reconsidered. It was about damn time I let Lucas in. He so badly wanted to be the shoulder I leaned on when I was stumbling; maybe I needed to let him.
"Sure," I replied with a brittle smile. "If you're not too wrecked already, maybe I can teach you a few things that Zed glossed over."
Lucas's face brightened. "I'd love that."
I ran upstairs to my borrowed bedroom, the guest room I'd claimed as my own by unpacking all my new clothes and personal items into it, and changed out of my ripped skirt. It only took me a couple of minutes, and I ran back downstairs with a renewed sense of determination. All week, watching Zed teach Lucas how to throw a punch or a kick or how to dodge and block, I'd been itching to give my opinions.
Besides, any excuse to have Lucas all hot and sweaty with his hands on my body sounded like a good idea in my mind.
Back in the gym, Lucas sat on the end of a weight bench, wrapping his hands up carefully like he'd been taught. He looked up when I walked in, his full lips curling in the sexiest of smiles.
"Goddamn, Hayden, how do you make work-out clothes look so fucking sexy?" He stood up, and the outline of his dick against his shorts echoed the primal look on his face.
My breath caught, and I licked my lips. "I changed my mind. I know exactly how you can clear my mind."
Lucas gave a low, irresistibly sexy chuckle. "Uh-huh, I bet you do." He stooped down and swept me up with a strong hand under each side of my ass, crushing me against him as his mouth found mine.
"Lucas," I groaned against his lips as he walked us over to the wall. My back against the cool surface, his hot erection ground against me teasingly as he kissed me stupid. Literally. Sometimes I felt like I was losing IQ points when I let my pussy take control... but then again, who gave a fuck? Who the hell would say no in my shoes?
"Lucas, you shouldn't be lifting me like this," I chastised, peeling my lips away from his only to move them to his neck. I couldn't resist dragging my teeth over his tight trapezoids, and he shivered against me with a curse.
"I'm fine, Hayden," he assured me in a husky voice, "I promise. Almost completely healed up already."
I ran my hand over his chest where the Darling brand sat red and raised but was healing incredibly quickly. His stab wound now only had a thin strip of surgical tape covering it too. The human body was fucking astounding.
"Still," I protested on a sigh. "I don't want to risk hurting you." Pushing him away, I dropped my feet to the ground, then nodded to my armchair that I'd abandoned earlier. "Go sit down, and I'll ride your dick."
His eyes widened, and a grin spread over his face. "Yes, ma'am."
He hurried to do as he was told, kicking his shorts aside and sitting back in the chair like it was a damn throne, his huge dick sticking straight up in the air like an invitation. His hands were still wrapped, and his sneakers still on, but I sure as hell wasn't nitpicking. I stripped off my leggings and panties in one motion and placed a knee to either side of his hips on the chair.
"Shit yeah," Lucas groaned as I lined him up with my core and worked my way down onto him. "This is the kind of workout I can get on board with."
I would have come back with something dazzlingly witty, but my brain was in the process of short-circuiting and my breath was already coming in short, sharp gasps.
Lucas gripped my hips, pulling me down deeper onto him and making me cry out at the way he filled me up. When my butt rested on his thighs, I shifted my grip on his shoulders to clasp onto the back of his neck. I needed to kiss him like I needed air, and he obliged without hesitation.
When I started moving, I only rose and fell ever so slightly, keeping most of Lucas's cock buried deep within my tight cunt and relishing the ache there. I circled my hips with each rock of my body, grinding on him and moaning when my clit rubbed against him.
"Hayden," Lucas said with a pained chuckle, "are you trying to torture me? Because this is seriously testing me right now."
I grinned into the side of his neck, sucking and biting the skin there, leaving my mark like a jealous teenager. "A little anticipation is good for the soul, Lucas."
He laughed, then groaned again as his fingers flexed on my hips. He wanted me to speed up; I could feel the way he was just barely holding back from taking charge. It made me all kinds of hot, though, knowing he was waiting for me to set the pace.
Probably in an attempt to distract himself from my maddening grind, he tugged my tank top over my head and tossed it aside, then unzipped the front closure of my sports bra and sucked in a sharp breath.
"Fuck, your tits are incredible," he whispered, palming them with reverence.
I grinned wide, arching my back to give him better access. In fairness, I was driving myself just as crazy by not fucking him as hard as I wanted. Just as I shifted my position, readying myself to ride him for real, a familiar ringtone pealed through the room.
Lucas and I both froze.
"Shit, that's my phone," I said, unnecessarily. "It might be Gen; I've got to take it." I started to scramble off Lucas's dick, but he caught me with a hand around my waist, holding me in place. I started to protest, but he just leaned over the side of the chair and used one of his long arms to reach my phone on the floor.
He handed it over to me where I sat, and I glanced at the caller ID.
"Oh, it's just Zed." That was significantly less urgent. I debated declining the call until we were done but then hesitated, wondering if something else had blown up. Literally.
"Trust me?" Lucas asked, meeting my eyes with a heavy dose of sincerity and a small part mischief.
I gave the most honest answer I was capable of while his dick was still fully encased in my pussy. "Within reason, yes."
He flashed a smile. "Fair." He swiped my phone out of my hand and slid his thumb over the answer button.
My eyes bugged out, but he clapped his hand over my mouth, telling me with his eyes to be quiet as he took the call and switched it to speaker. "Hey, Zed."
There was a pause on the other end, and I writhed against Lucas's hold on my face—not to get free, but because I was suddenly a thousand times more turned on and I hadn't even known that was possible.
