Seven Card Stud (Stacked Deck Book 7)
Page 31
The crowd roars around us. They squish into the club, dark, despite the lights high on the second story ceiling. They bump each other as they move, they all try to get closer to the cage, to be the first to get someone else’s sweat and blood on their faces when a fighter is knocked out.
“Jamie?” I snatch his face back around until he looks into my eyes. “Will already got you. He knocked you down. You possibly already have a concussion. You should sit this one out.”
“Hey, Quinn?” He smiles around a pink mouthguard – pink! – and a split lip. “Tell you a secret?” He leans closer, closer until he buries his face in my hair, and his hands go to my hips.
“What?” I close my eyes, because I refuse to leave them open to Will’s mean stare. “What’s the secret?”
“I have condoms in my training bag.” He presses a kiss to my neck. “A car, an office, a locker room, and a million other options for us to run away to while Will is fighting.”
I pull back with a jolt, as electricity races through my veins and stops in my crotch.
“You’re not sore?” he murmurs.
I shake my head. “A little bit. But not so much that… you know…”
“If I use my mouth first, then it won’t hurt so bad when I use my dick.”
I bring a hand up to cup my heated cheek. “Jamie…”
“You’re blushing.” Grinning, he leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Then I’m out for at least an hour.”
My eyes shoot to Will.
Then back to Jamie.
“Okay?”
My heart pounds so hard that I swear anyone could see it. “Okay.”
“Go stand with Will.” Jamie turns me, and pats my butt like I’m a good, obedient girl. “Stay safe over there. And watch out for the Bakers. They’re here, and they get off on causing trouble.”
I skip forward when Jamie’s hand releases my arm, watch over my shoulder as I walk to my brother, then I stop by Will’s side, and turn back to watch my man fight in a pro tournament.
“I don’t know what he said to you, Bubbles. But the answer is no.”
“He said to stand by you,” I semi-lie. I mean, it’s not a lie, he really did say that. “And he said the Bakers are here, causing trouble.”
“What?” He casts a fast gaze around the room. “Where?”
“I don’t think they’re causing trouble yet. I meant, they’re trouble, so it’s inevitable. Watch your back and all that.”
“Mm…” He throws an arm over my shoulder and tugs me close while Mr. Kincaid smears jelly on Jamie’s forehead. “Stay away from them. We don’t want more trouble this year.”
“I make it a point to stay away from them.”
I step up on my toes when a couple of fighters bully their way in front of me and Will. They block my view, screw around like this isn’t the most important fight of their lives, and they laugh… head-thrown-back laughter like they haven’t a care in the world.
“Hey!”
“Bubbles.”
“Hey, jackasses!” I slide out from beneath Will’s arm and worm my way between the pair. “Move! I was clearly standing here!”
One of the fighters, jacked up and no longer laughing, steps up to me and sneers. “The fuck is your problem? It’s not healthy to go around shoving people just for the sake of it, ya know?”
“No! I don’t know. You wanna know what I think isn’t healthy? You, standing in my damn way when I was trying to watch a fight!”
“It hasn’t even started yet!” The second fighter thrusts a hand toward the cage as Jamie steps into the octagon and starts running a warm-up lap around the perimeter. “Look!”
“The fact it hasn’t started yet should tell you how interested I am in this damn fight. So move!”
The first fighter, the angrier one, steps forward so his toes crush mine, and his chest stops barely an inch in front of my chin. “You sound a little hysterical, girl. You wanna cool off. Maybe go back home… to a kitchen.”
My brows wing up high with disbelief. “The little boys club on Fifth and Fuck-You-Up-Your-Ass wants their misogyny back. You speak to your mother with that mouth, or is your dad still smacking her around?”
“Listen up, bitch—”
“No, you listen up!” I shove him when he tries to push me back. “Back up out of my space, move, because I was here first, and then go tell your mom you’re sorry for being such a jackass.”
“Hey!” Jamie’s voice echoes loud above the constant roar of everyone around us. My gaze snaps to his as he stands at the edge of the cage. His eyes fire with anger. He looks to the guys surrounding me. “Problem?”
“No problem, honey.” I blow a kiss for him, an obnoxious, noisy, kiss-my-hand-and-blow-it-his-way kiss, then bring my gaze back to Douchebag Number One. “You haven’t moved along yet?”
“You know him?”
“Doesn’t matter if I do. You’re dealing with me.”
“I’m sorry, Kincaid.” The fighter proves his thoughts on the general female population by ignoring my words and lifting his hands in surrender – to Jamie. “There was a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah?” Jamie snaps. “Well don’t misunderstand this. Move the fuck away from her. Now.”
They back away. Stumble on their own feet. Bump into other fighters in their escape.
I turn back to Jamie and roll my eyes when he crooks his finger and summons me forward.
“What?” I ask as soon as I stop on the outside of the cage. “I had it under control.”
“Looked to me like you were gonna throw down against a couple dudes twice your size.”
“Maybe I was.” I grin. “I had it under control.”
“Do you know them?” Jamie peeks over his shoulder when his opponent finally enters the cage, then his eyes come back to me. “History?”
“Nope. They just got in my way and wouldn’t move when I asked them with really nice manners.”
“Nice manners, my ass.” He kneels down so we’re almost on the same level. Then he puckers his lips and waits for me to stand on my toes to reach. “I’m not sure you possess manners.”
“Rude. And not at all true.”
“No?” He lifts a brow. “What did you swipe from that dude’s pocket?”
“His mouthguard,” I laugh. “Which is gross, by the way. But when he fights and loses his teeth, it’s bound to make his dating life a little more cumbersome. I might save a decent chick a bad relationship.”
I step onto my toes once more and press a kiss to his lips. “Go, do the thing. Don’t lose any teeth.”
“Back soon. Stop picking fights.”
I lower back to flat feet and take a step back. “No picking fights.” I nod. “Copy that, chief.”
“No picking pockets, either.”
“Huh?” I cup my ear and shout obnoxiously loud. “Can’t hear you.” I stumble forward a step when someone bumps into my shoulder.
Spinning and preparing to dive into another fight, I breathe a sigh of relief when I find it’s only Will. “Where were you? I almost rumbled!”
“I was keeping watch,” he murmurs. “I’d have stepped in before he made a wrong move.”
“Watching?” I slam my elbow into his ribs and try to pull out of his hold. “Watching? Half of my fight technique is having you stand behind me doing the mean mug thing.”
“Which is a shitty plan. Stop picking fights you can’t win.”
“Oh, sure. Next time, I’ll just toddle my way to the kitchen as ordered, huh? No problemo.”
“You gotta learn to pick your battles. That’s all I’m saying. You’re gonna find pricks everywhere we go. You know that.” He looks to the octagon when the cage door is shut and the referee steps between Jamie and the other guy. “We know a billion assholes, Bubbles. But we can’t fight ‘em all. So learn which hills to die on. Leave the rest alone.”
Frowning, I turn away from Jamie, and look up at Will. “What’s got you all melancholy toda
y, huh? Usually, you’re all about charging those hills and killing everybody.”
He purses his lips and stares down into my eyes. “I’m…” He draws a long breath in, then lets it out on a sigh. “Tired.”
“But you haven’t even fought yet. How’s your shoulder, by the way?”
“It’s fine. And I’m tired of the world. Not of fighting.”
“Yeah, well…” I fold my arms. “The world is an exhausting place. Like you said, we know that. We know it sucks.”
“So stop picking fights.” He nods toward the octagon. “Ready for this?”
“He’s gonna win. He has to win.” I clasp my hands together and stand on my toes as nervous energy races through my veins. “It’s gonna be fine. He’s too obnoxious not to win.”
Will snorts. “Obnoxious usually means they lose, because they’re too busy showboating instead of fighting. Kincaid better know now is the time he’s supposed to back up that big mouth of his.”
“He’s fine.”
I study the muscles in Jamie’s back, glistening under sweat, and the lights shining from above. I study the balls of his shoulders, the tight valley of his spine, and the two dimples in his lower back. I study the muscles on the backs of his arms – triceps, I think they’re called – and muscles on top of his shoulders – traps, maybe? I don’t know what they’re called, but I do know how they feel. I know how they ripple beneath my hands. I know how they harden when he’s shouting, or when he’s making love.
I bring my hand up, my poor, mutilated pinky nail, and trap it between my teeth. Because Jamie and I made love last night. I know it wasn’t in a bed, or a home, or… ya know, in private. But it was us, it was special, and sweet, and the kind of experience most girls hope for. I don’t need comfortable beds and fancy sheets, when the man I’m with says he loves me.
When he means it.
When he continues to say it and mean it, even after the deed is done.
“Let’s have a clean fight.” The referee stands on Jamie’s left and speaks for us all to hear. “I want you to protect yourselves at all times. Defend yourselves at all times…”
Jamie
The Clock Is Still Ticking
“What are you doing?” Cam races behind me just seconds after my fight ends and I slam the cage door open. “Jamie!”
“Quick.” I tug her forward and swing her under my arm, then through the cheering crowd and too-heavy shoulder-pats, and I shield her while we run toward a hallway at the back of the tournament venue.
“Jamie!” she screeches. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t ask questions.”
We run. I’m sweaty all over, hyped on adrenaline and the surge of power after my first ever professional fight.
My first ever professional win.
“Jamie!” Cam’s shout comes out on a laugh. Her screech turns to giggles. “You’re gonna make me fall down.”
“In here.” Finding the right door, I open it with a fast flick of the handle, switch the lights on, tug Cam in beside me, then I slam the door again and lock it so no one else can follow us in.
“Jamie?” Her chest rises and falls. Excitement, nerves, exertion after our run through a packed club. Her breath comes out in intoxicating huffs, her eyes warm, adoring, and then smiling when I back her up against the wall. “What are you doing?” she whispers.
I blindly slap the wall and turn the lights out so we’re shrouded in darkness except for the tiniest blue light emanating from a power cord plugged into a security box. I’m wearing nothing more than shorts. No shoes, no shirt, no hoodie to stay warm, or beanie to cover my hair. I left the octagon, tossed my gloves and mouthguard at my dad, and then I grabbed Cam. Because of all the people on the planet, she’s who I want to celebrate with.
“I love you.” Reaching up, I tuck hair back behind her ear, and smile when her breathing changes. Her heart pounds between us, but there’s… something else throbbing in the air. “I love you so fucking much.” I press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I fought for you.”
“I watched,” she rasps out breathlessly. “I watched the whole thing.”
“I won for you.”
Her lips pull up into a beautiful smile. “I cheered for you.”
“I saw you.” I slide my hands down her body, over her succulent hips, around to the front of her jeans, and when she nods, I flick the button open and drive the zipper down. “I saw you the whole time I was fighting. It was the most amazing aphrodisiac I’ve ever known.”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbles. “I can relate. I was nervous for you, but I was also– ahhh.” She smacks her head back against the wall and moans when I slide my fingers between her wet folds.
“You were also turned on.” I slide two fingers in. Not slow like the first time, not gentle like the second. I fight the tight denim that restricts my movements, and drive two fingers deep inside her fiery hot pussy. “You were panting for me, weren’t you?” I dive in and taste her fragrant neck. I don’t bite today. I don’t pull her skin between my lips. Because I know I left marks last night. I know I would have gotten her in trouble. Instead, I soothe, I taste. “I saw you, and I saw your body primed for mine.”
“I didn’t know it would be like that.”
“Me neither.” I reach up to a shelf above her head. Because I planned ahead, I planted supplies. I snatch a condom from the shelf, tear the foil with my teeth, and toss the trash to the floor. “I wanna fuck you.” I pull my fingers from her pants, and catch her cry when she’s left to stand all on her own. “I wanna know what it’s like to fuck you.”
“Okay.” She shoves her jeans down to her knees, watches my hands as I slide my condom on, but then she realizes the logistics. The fact she has to take her pants all the way off for this to work. “Door’s locked, right?” She turns in the cramped space to check. “No one can get it?”
“No one will come in.” I push my shorts further down while she kicks her shoes off. She peels her jeans away, flicks them to the floor, then her eyes come back to me; wary, but not scared. Cautious, but trusting.
“Do you think it’ll hurt?”
“I don’t know.” I back her up against the wall, wrap my arm around her waist, and lift her up in one fast, adrenaline-fueled swoop.
I’m stronger now than usual, because of adrenaline. More frantic, because of the energy pulsing in my veins. But I’m not allowed to be rough. I can’t hurt her and blame it on the win.
“I’ll be gentle, okay?” I lean in and press a kiss to the corner of her lips. “You just have to say stop, and I’ll stop.”
“Okay.” She pulls in a heavy breath, then lets it out again on a nod. “I’m ready.”
“You want this, right?” I use my hand between us and line our bodies up. But I don’t push inside. I don’t even touch. “You’re okay with this?”
“Yeah.” Her lips pull into a wolfish smile as she tugs me a little closer. “I want this. Just go slow for a sec to make sure it won’t hurt.”
“I’ve got you.” I rest the tip of my dick against her opening and groan, because the heat emanating from her core almost burns. “Fuck. I’m not even inside and I wanna come. You’re so perfect.” I nudge in, slowly, gently, just a torturous inch at a time. And when she presses her head back against the wall, I go back to tasting her throat. Delicate, warm, delicious. “Does that hurt?” I nudge a little further in. “Cam?”
“No, it’s okay,” she pants. Her words might not be complete truth – her tensing legs imply it hurts a little – but she’s not completely lying either. It stings, but it feels good. “Keep going.”
“I love you.” I nudge further inside. “Hey?” Another inch, as I wait for her unfocused eyes to come to me. “I love you.”
“I love you.” She tightens her legs and pulls me in deeper. “I really, really do.”
“You ready for more?”
“Yeah. Go the rest of the way now. It doesn’t hurt.”
“You sure?”
/> She swallows. “Yeah. This angle is good. I like it.”
Taking her at her word, I reaffirm my grip around her hips, press my lips to hers to catch her cry, then I slam up deep inside her and choke on the pleasure that spears through my gut.
“Fuck!”
“Jamie,” she whimpers. She squeezes her eyes shut, wraps her arms around my neck. But she rolls her hips, inviting more, begging for more. “Keep going.”
So I do. I pull out until I almost completely fall out of her tight vise, then I slam back in and groan at the way she grips me like a fist. “Jesus, Cam. Fuck.”
“Call me Quinn,” she croaks out. “Go faster. I like it when you move fast.”
Pulling out, I slam my lips to hers and race back in until the tip of my dick touches something deep inside her. Slowly out, then I race back in. Black dots swim in my vision, waves whoosh in my ears, but then her cries break through the loud din from outside this small room.
Her cries won’t be heard out there, but they’re in here with me. In my ear. In my heart.
She wraps her arms around my neck, rests her face on my shoulder, and she simply rides me, surrenders to me, and fists my cock every single time I slam back inside.
“You feel so amazing,” I groan. “Fuck, Quinn. So perfect.”
“I’m gonna come,” she whimpers. “Every time you push in really hard, you touch my clit.”
“Clit makes you come?” I grin and grow bolder with my movements. Instead of simply holding her up, I grab her ass and mark it with my fingertips. Instead of merely supporting her weight, I use her up, slam her onto my cock, and thrust my hips forward until we literally can’t join any more.
“Jamie…” Her breath grows more frantic with each slide. Her heart pounds against mine so hard that I feel it. “Shit,” she hisses. “Oh… oh…” She cries out loud enough that I yank her face around and slam my lips down to silence her. “Fuck!”
She explodes around me, spasming in my arms, crying into my mouth so her breath scorches my throat and settles in my lungs. She drags me over the ledge when her pussy clamps me still and her teeth bite down onto my bottom lip. She bites so hard that it stings, that it’ll swell and remind me tomorrow it was because of her. On one last deep thrust, I come. It’s like a freight train. Like spotlights in my eyes. Like an anvil being dropped on my back. But the pleasure rockets me into another world and demands a second orgasm until I’m left wrung out, clinging to sanity, and barely holding her up.