The Underground: The Complete Series

by Snow, Jenika

  Turning on her heel, she started shoving people out of her way. Tristan gasped for air, suddenly feeling so claustrophobic. A hand on her arm stopped her, and she stared into a pair of drunken black eyes.

  “Hey, baby. The fight’s over, but if you’re still up for a little fun—” He waggled his eyebrows, and a wave of disgust slammed into her.

  She shook her head and yanked her arm so hard out of his grasp he stumbled back and spilled his beer. A cloud of anger slashed across his face as he looked at the beer that coated his shoes.

  “You fucking bitch.” He took a step toward her, but before he could touch her, someone locked a hand on his shoulder and tossed him effortlessly to the ground.

  Steeling herself, Tristan turned her gaze to whoever stood beside her. She knew who it was even before she locked her gaze onto dark green eyes. Her breath sawed in and out of her, and she took in his appearance.

  Up close he was frightening. The blood, the sweat, all of it solidified her fear, her need to escape, but most of all her arousal.

  “What in the hell are you doing here, Tristan?” Kash’s voice was low, almost deadly. He looked around the room and shook his head. He placed his hand against her arm, but she yanked it back.

  She was too frightened of what was happening. She shouldn’t want him like this, covered in crimson, smelling incredibly good, and looking like he could take her right there, in front of everyone.

  “Tristan.”

  The way he said her name, low, heated, full of confusion and need, did wicked things to her body. Disgust with herself slammed into her. This wasn’t right. She wasn’t right. What sane person ached for a man covered in blood? Before she could say anything, two large-bosomed females sidled up to Kash.

  As he stared down at her, Tristan thought she might have seen a wave of sympathy or sorrow, but she had to be imagining it. The man before her was like steel, hard, unmoving, and certainly knowing nothing of uncertainty.

  “Tristan.”

  He could say her name all he wanted to. She didn’t want to hear it. All she wanted was to get the hell out of there. As swarms of people came up to him, commenting on the fight and congratulating him, Tristan darted away, through the crowd, and up the stairs. She ran like he was chasing her, yet she knew he had let her go. Oh God. How could she do this?

  She couldn’t tell Kylie, could she? Did her best friend already know? Did it even matter? Conflicting emotions washed through her. She wanted him. He disgusted her. She feared his power.

  She needed that power dominating her.

  * * *

  It took everything in Kash not to chase after Tristan. Despite the people starting to swarm around him, congratulating him on the fight, Kash could have easily pushed them away to get to her. Damn! What in the hell is she doing here?

  He wanted to go to her, to explain what she had just seen, but he knew right now she needed space.

  “Dude, you’re a fucking beast in the cage!” A twentysomething man patted Kash on the back, his drunken, slurred words grating on his nerves. He shook the man’s hand off, his anger mounting. He should have told her that he fought, should have said something earlier.

  Damn it all to hell, he hadn’t thought she would ever find out. He was pissed that she had put herself in danger to begin with. Going to these fights put her in a position that Kash didn’t like. The crowds, the drinking, the fighting, all of that combined was enough to hurt someone, and not if they were in the cage.

  He’d had to throw some dickweed off her. Hell, what if he hadn’t seen her, hadn’t gotten to her in time? It would have been a repeat performance. This was his fault, and he needed to rectify it.

  He couldn’t go out the main doors, not covered in blood. The risk of compromising the underground community was too great. There were just too many people in the main part of the club, too many that didn’t know what happened right below their feet. The cops would surely be called, and then hell would rain down on his head.

  Pushing people out of his way, Kash headed toward the back exit. There was a set of stairs that led to a door on the side of the club, one that came out in an alley. Several people tried to stop him, especially women that wanted a piece of him.

  It was the same routine every night, and although he had enjoyed the lustful advances from many women in the past, the only thing on his mind was getting to Tristan. She was all that mattered, and that revelation scared the shit out of him.

  * * *

  Once she was back on the main floor, she weaved through the bodies and ran up to the VIP section. Kylie was adamantly talking to the bouncer, and when she saw Tristan, a wave of relief washed over her face. She ran up to Tristan, grabbed her arms, and shook the life out of her.

  “What the hell happened? Where were you?”

  Tristan could see genuine fear reflected in Kylie’s eyes, and she felt guilty for causing that worry. Tristan finally allowed herself to take a deep breath. What the hell was she supposed to say? Could she really tell Kylie?

  A part of her didn’t want to cause problems for Kash, but a part of her knew what he was doing was wrong. Who made a living from hurting people?

  “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to worry you.” She gave Kylie a reassuring smile but knew the action fell short. “I got sidetracked in the bathroom, then ran into some girl that talked my ear off about her boyfriend.” Not a lie, but also not the truth. She shook her head again, feeling like shit for scaring Kylie. Tristan knew how worried her friend had been since the incident, and she hadn’t even thought twice about what her sudden disappearance would do to her.

  Kylie stared at her for several long seconds and then relaxed her shoulders. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I was about to send the Hulk out there looking for you.” She gestured with her thumb to the bouncer.

  Tristan smiled in gratitude. “I think I’ve had enough for one night.”

  “Me, too.” Kylie grabbed her purse and her coat.

  Tristan didn’t bother arguing with Kylie to stay. It wouldn’t have made a difference in the long run. No one could talk Kylie out of anything. After saying good-bye and apologizing to the bachelorette party, the two of them hailed a cab and headed back home.

  She just wanted to forget about this night, but she knew that was never going to happen.

  15

  Tristan shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Before she’d gotten out of Kylie’s car, her friend had been adamant about coming in and talking because she knew something was wrong. She’d respectfully declined, knowing she needed a moment alone to process everything.

  Tristan had never been good at hiding the truth from her, but she just didn’t want to talk about it. Over and over she asked herself what she was really upset about. Was it that Kash hurt people for a living, or that she found herself immensely aroused because of that?

  The rational part of her brain tried to tell her it wasn’t like he was hurting innocent people. The men he fought signed up for it. Right now she could see Jackson’s excited face as he anticipated the fight. He’d craved it for sure.

  She pushed herself away from the door and went into the kitchen. Drinking probably wasn’t the best thing to do at the moment, but her body was near to shaking with the revelations and emotions sweeping through her. She dug around in the cupboard until she found the bottle of whiskey. With a shot glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, Tristan poured herself a drink. Without thinking, just acting, she threw the drink back and breathed out.

  It was like fire down her throat, but the pain felt good. It distracted her from other things. She repeated the process two more times until she felt a warm burn start to flow through her veins. She was about to pour herself another one when she heard the front door open and close. She knew she really didn’t want to do this with Kylie right now.

  “Kylie, seriously, please, not tonight.” When she turned around, she felt her eyes widen and her mouth go dry. The person standing in the entryway was not Kylie.

>   Kash’s expression as he regarded her was stoic. He was no longer shirtless, but he might as well have been since the white tee he wore did nothing to hide his body. She allowed herself to look her fill of his abdomen, his muscles defined under the snug material. She lifted her gaze to his face and cringed when she saw traces of blood.

  A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but he was good at hiding it the next second. Had he seen her expression, or was he reliving what happened just a few hours ago? With her hand still tightly wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle, she wished she had finished off the whole thing. Blissful intoxication would have been preferable to the slow buzz that didn’t seem to make reality tolerable.

  Even after everything she’d seen—the blood, the carnage, the pain—Tristan wanted him desperately. Her pussy was soaked with her need for him. Maybe her body was tired of the feelings and needs she’d pushed so far inside of her that it rebelled with Kash so near?

  Even at a distance she saw him swallow. His Adam’s apple worked beneath his tanned flesh, and she found herself leaning forward as if her body didn’t want to listen to her mind. Her gaze was riveted to the sight of his corded neck working up and down.

  Throb, pulse, tingle.

  Her clit had a mind of its own. The shirt she wore was impossibly thin, and despite the fact she wore a bra, she knew if he really wanted to look, he would be able to see her nipples stabbing through. The death grip she had on the bottle seemed to ground her, but she forced her fingers to loosen, set the bottle down, and dropped her arm to her side. What could she say? Oh, a million different things slammed into her mind, but none of that seemed to matter at that moment.

  As if he thought the same thing, they both took a step forward. He was visibly breathing hard, the same as her. His chest rose and fell the closer they got to one another. When they were mere inches from one another, Tristan looked deep into his eyes. The same intense and raw passion was reflected back. Would he stop this again? She hoped not because if it came down to it, she didn’t know if she would be able to stop. She knew she wouldn’t be below begging him.

  Take me now.

  Kash gripped the back of her neck as if her silent command had somehow been ripped from her. The big, warm hand he placed on her nape was a wake-up call to the fact that this was really happening. He pulled her forward and pressed his mouth against hers. Had she spoken aloud?

  It didn’t matter anymore because the feel of his lips on hers, moving rough, hard, and demanding, had every rational thought leaving her brain. The way he held her, kissed her, made her feel wholly feminine and possessed. She felt the heat, the need in his touch as well as the way he ran his tongue along the inside of her mouth. She was helpless to stop it.

  His other hand pressed against her lower back, and she gasped from the searing heat of that lone touch. When he pulled her closer, she groaned as his erection pressed against her belly. They were both frantic with their need, and when he broke the kiss to remove her top and then her bottoms, she didn’t stop him. Once the material was removed, their mouths latched back together. Eyes closed, body lost in feeling, Tristan brought her hands to the front of his jeans and fumbled with the button.

  She couldn’t think clearly, and her fingers were numb with pleasure. Thankfully Kash covered her hands with one of his and released the button. His erection pressed demandingly against the denim, and all she could think about was what it would feel like in her hand. Mouth still latched in a demanding kiss, Kash backed her into the kitchen table with his body.

  He never removed his lips from hers. Tristan was vaguely aware of the sound of his zipper being brought down and material rustling. After a second that seemed to last ages, Tristan felt the scorching-hot length of him press into her belly. A groan ripped from her.

  She clawed at his chest as his hand landed on her breast. Her bra still covered the mounds, and she desperately wanted the offending fabric gone. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, feel his strength against her softness. She pushed his shirt up almost frantically, and once again their kiss broke apart for a split second.

  The air whooshed out of her when she glanced down at his exposed chest. Blood, now dried, still covered parts of his chest, mingling with the black ink of his tattoo. Disgust wasn’t the first feeling she had when she saw it.

  Raw, unadulterated lust was what reared its potent head. When their eyes locked, she thought she saw a moment of hesitation reflected in his green depths, but just as quickly as it had appeared, it was replaced by a dark mask.

  She skipped over the blood and let her gaze travel down to the erection she felt throbbing against her. Of course she shouldn’t have been surprised at what she saw, but when she was greeted with a cock that was just as powerfully built as the rest of him, she felt her mouth go dry. He stood before her like a god, or maybe the very devil himself. Even though his size certainly was startling, that wasn’t what made her initial shock so intense.

  The thick ring that was pierced through the head of his shaft had all coherent thought leaving her. The overhead light caused the silver metal to glint, like a warning of what was to come. Before she could drag her eyes from the sight, he had his hands pressed right below her ass and was lifting her.

  The cold wood of the table met her overheated flesh, and she bit her lip. His gaze tracked the movement, and then his tongue was running over the tender spot she had just abused. A surprised gasp left her as he bathed her sensitive flesh in liquid heat. He tasted so good, and she was shamelessly leaning into him, seeking more.

  He closed the gap that separated them, and Tristan panted as his bare shaft pressed against her. The metal that adorned his body was heated, but she didn’t mistake the smooth feel of steel against her skin. Despite the fact she wore panties, she felt every inch of him. She was completely soaked, embarrassingly so, but she didn’t give a damn.

  Right now she couldn’t think of anything better than having Kash inside of her.

  His hands on her shoulders made her feel weak, womanly. He pushed her back until she was spread across the table, like some flesh entrée he was about to devour. He took a step back, and she instantly felt the chill in the room. Was he just going to leave her here, achingly needy for him? How in the hell could he stop what they were doing?

  Tristan felt crazed when he was this near, yet Kash looked calm, in control. The air sawed in and out of lungs as they stared at each other.

  “Remove the bra, slowly.”

  His voice, low, commanding, sent a thrill of dark desire through her. Lifting her arms, she unlatched her bra with shaky fingers. She’d never been more thankful for the front clasp.

  As soon as the cloth and wire were no longer held together, her breasts spilled out almost indecently. Oh, she knew what her nipples looked like, and the expression on his face as he assessed her told her as much.

  The tissue felt sensitive and hard, like the tiny tips could cut into glass. She felt flushed, and even lying down she could see how her skin was painted red. Every erogenous zone in her body tingled as he stood there and watched her. He was aroused, most definitely, but he didn’t make a move to touch her.

  Tristan swallowed and wondered if he liked what he saw. His cock straining forward should have told her as much, but she wondered where all his composure and restraint were coming from.

  “Take off your panties.”

  She licked her lips again and placed her fingers at the edge of the material. His gaze was scorching, and it took everything in her to breathe as he watched her with a hooded expression that reflected exactly what he wanted to do to her.

  The material hit the floor with a feather-soft caress, and she lifted her gaze to his.

  “Spread your legs wide. Let me see your cunt.”

  His coarse language sent her reeling. Never had a man spoken to her in such a way, spoken about her body in such a crude manner. It inflamed her. The commands did something to her insides. She felt weak with need. As crazy as it sounded, she wanted to please
him, wanted to do anything he said.

  “Don’t make me ask you again. This is what you wanted, and this is what you’ll get.”

  Her heart thundered hard, and she spread her legs. Was this really what she wanted, to be ordered to do whatever he said?

  God. Yes.

  Kash was a force all in himself. He was powerful, strong, and took no shit. He was a dominating man, and at that moment Tristan knew what he wanted from her.

  Submission.

  16

  Tristan knew her eyes were large as she stared up at Kash. He looked like an angel standing before her … a fallen one. God, she was so wet. Could he see her arousal glistening under the kitchen lighting? He was still so hard that she knew he must like what he saw. The need to cover herself, to close her legs and place a hand over her breasts was strong, but the dark, predatory look in his eyes made her think twice.

  He didn’t approach her right away. Instead he just watched her. She knew what he was doing, knew he was giving her the option to back out. It would have been the smart thing for her to do, but right now she was running on lust, need, and a few shots of whiskey.

  He took a step toward her, and she swallowed. Her breasts were thrust out in invitation, but he didn’t touch them. Instead he dropped to his knees between her thighs, placed both his hands under her ass, and lifted her to his waiting mouth. Their gazes locked for a heartbeat.

  The feel of his warm breath skating across her pussy could have made her come right then. He smirked, a hard slash across his mouth that was not one of amusement. He knew the effect he had on her, and he was relishing it. The feel of his tongue on her exposed flesh had her eyes involuntarily closing and her head falling back against the table. Oh, his tongue did wicked things to her body.

  He used that muscle to run up her center, sucking her wetness off and causing more to come. He was so incredibly slow with his ministrations that she found herself pressing closer to him, trying to tempt him to give her more. On any other occasion she might have been mortified by her actions, but pressing her pussy against his face, trying to have him lick and suck at her harder, seemed so logical at the moment.