Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)

by JB Salsbury

  He tilts his head, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “I’m here for a massage.”

  “No.” I step back, shaking my head. “You can’t. I mean… I can’t. We…” I clear my throat and square my shoulders. “I’m booked. Sorry.”

  With powerful hands propped on his hips, he stares straight through me. “You had a cancellation.”

  “Says who?”

  “Vanessa.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Ask her. Your four o’clock cancelled.”

  Shit. I rub my forehead and snap my eyes to him when he moves in.

  He closes the distance between us and scowls down at me. “You think you can ignore me and I’ll give up; you’re wrong.”

  I swallow and open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out, so I slam it shut and swallow again.

  Get it together, Axelle! You massage fighters all day; this one is no different.

  My subconscious screams that he’s so different, but I ignore it.

  “Fine.” I check my wristwatch. “You’ve got an hour.”

  His confident smirk turns too sexy for comfort. “That’s plenty of time, Ax.”

  The door opens behind us, and Killian steps away, giving back my air. I suck in a deep breath, as if entering the room with Killian will be the equivalent of ducking my head under water.

  “Killer, man.” Mason and Killian share a man hug. “You’re blowing up the UK scene.”

  “Cameron sends me across the pond to kick ass; I’m gonna kick some ass.”

  Cocky much?

  He slaps Killian on the back. “Nice to see your training team worked the modesty out of you. The press will eat that up.”

  Killian’s eyes find mine, and whatever he sees makes him lose some of his bravado. “Yeah, well…it’s all about the show, ya know?”

  Mason stares at him for a few silent seconds before nodding. “You’re makin’ us proud. Looking forward to the big announcement tomorrow. As much as I hope you’ll be here in Vegas, I think it would be stupid for you to leave London at the height of your game.”

  “Can’t argue that.” Killian’s gaze drops to the floor, and a hint of my old friend is reflected in his frown.

  He ping-pongs from the old Killian to the new as if he’s fighting who he used to be, and that pisses me right off.

  “As much fun as this little convo is…” I tap my watch. “We’re eating into Killian’s massage time.” I hold my hands up. “Not that I mind. If you guys want to continue, I’ll go get an iced tea or something.” I lift a brow at Killian and he smiles.

  “No way.” Mason throws an arm over me. “You don’t want to miss even a second of this girl’s hands. She’s incredible.”

  “Oh, I know she is.” He winks.

  Really, Killian? Who are you?

  I duck out of Mason’s hold and slip into the room, ripping the sheets off the table and replacing them with fresh ones. The door shuts and locks behind me. I rein in my reaction while every nerve in my body is aware we’re alone together in a dimly lit room.

  I avoid his eyes and turn toward the sink. “You, um…you can leave your shorts on.”

  “Really?” His voice is closer now. “I thought I was supposed to get naked?”

  “You—” My voice cracks. “You can, but I think it’s best if you keep your shorts on.”

  “Why, Axelle?” He chuckles. “It’s not like you’re not intimately familiar with what’s under them.”

  I drop my chin and brace my weight on the counter as flashes of his naked body zap through my brain. Dammit, Axelle! Be a professional for God’s sake!

  “Fine.” I move to step out of the room. “Get naked. Get under the sheet. I’ll be back—”

  “Not so fast.” He snags my arm as I pass by him. “Something tells me if I let you walk out that door you won’t come back.”

  I lift my chin in defiance. “Guess that’s a chance you’ve got to take.” I struggle to pull free of his hold, but he doesn’t release me.

  His eyebrows drop low. “Talk to me, Ax,” he whispers. “What did I do?”

  Yeah, that’s a fantastic question. What did he do? Other than leave to London for a year without saying good-bye and coming back a totally different person.

  Defeat washes over me, making my shoulders slump. “Please, Kill. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  “Make what harder? I thought we had a good talk the other night, but ever since, you’ve been MIA.”

  I jerk my arm free, and he steps away to give me some space, but I don’t miss the fact that he steps in front of the door, most likely to block my escape. “Don’t treat me like some stupid groupie.”

  “Groupie—?”

  “Did you tell Fleur about our talk?”

  He drops his gaze and rubs the back of his neck. “Yes.”

  “Does she know you’ve been calling and texting me?”

  He peers up at me. “She knows.”

  “So…” I study the walls that feel like they’re shrinking around us. “Your girlfriend is fine with you chasing me down.”

  His face registers confusion for a few beats, and then his eyes widen and he laughs. “Ax, you think…wow.” He shakes his head, grinning. “That’s been your issue? Fleur is not my girlfriend.”

  What? “Since when?”

  “Since ever.” He moves in closer. “You need to stop believing everything you read.”

  “What about what I’ve seen, huh? Are you trying to tell me all the kisses and photos of you two cuddled up are fake? I’ve seen you guys kiss. Many times.” The memory makes me nauseated.

  “We’ve kissed, sure, but she’s French. That’s what they do.”

  I cross my arms at my chest. “So you’re telling me the two of you have never hooked up?”

  He recoils, but stands his ground.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  He looks genuinely apologetic. “I had one moment of weakness.”

  “A moment of weakness?” God, since when did he become a womanizing pig?

  Anger flashes in his eyes. “She knew exactly what she was doing, and I explained—”

  “Oh, God.” I cover my ears. “I don’t want to hear about all your European sexcapades.”

  “Yeah? Why not?” His jaw ticks. “We’re just friends, right? Or hell, maybe we’re not even that anymore, so why does hearing about me and Fleur upset you?”

  “Because this isn’t the Killian I know. I lost my best friend one year ago; he left and didn’t even say good-bye. And now you’re back, but you aren’t you, Kill.” A lump forms in my throat, and I turn away from him to organize bottles of oil and creams.

  “Ax, it is me.” He pushes up behind me, his hands braced on either side of my hips, his lips at my ear. “I’m right here. You say I’ve changed. I won’t deny that. But I’m better, right? I never felt worthy of you, never felt like the kind of man you could be proud of, one who could take care of you.” His nose runs the length of my neck and I shiver. “I’m that man now.”

  “I liked—no, I loved the old you.” My thoughts spiral as he brushes his lips against my earlobe. “I missed him for an entire year, and I’m afraid I lost him forever.”

  “No.” He pulls at the tender skin of my neck with his lips. “I’m here.” His mouth, lips, teeth, and stubble continue their delicious torture, and I lose all my strength and lean back into his chest. “I tried so hard to forget you, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to want you, but you’re in my blood. I can’t shake you.”

  “Why didn’t you call?”

  “I thought I was giving you what you wanted. You were pregnant, and I knew you had shit to figure out. I walked away, hoping I could forget you, but I couldn’t.” He nuzzles my throat. “You were my first, Axelle.”

  I blink my eyes open, stilling at his words. “But not your last…”

  He drops his forehead to my shoulder. “No.”

  I turn around and face him head on, needing to see his face, and I re
gret it the second I see the shame and embarrassment in his eyes. “I haven’t been with anyone since you, Killian.”

  “Fuck.” He exhales hard, steps back, and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know.”

  “I think we just have to accept what is.” I wipe under my eye, forcing tears back where they belong. “We had our shot; it didn’t work.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t push me away. We can have that again, make it just like it was before.”

  “Sometimes you just have to accept the fact that things have changed. I have a great job, I’m saving to get my own place, and I’m paying my own insurance and chipping in with the bills at home. It feels… Kill, it feels so good. I’m standing on my own for the first time in my life.”

  “I want a chance to know who you are now. I want to know everything about you. I want to be the one you lean on again.”

  “That’s the problem, don’t you see?” I pound my chest with my fist. “I’m not the girl who needs fixing anymore. There’s no more messes for you to clean up. What we had wasn’t fair to you—you taking care of me and me secretly loving you but so damn scared that if I made one wrong move you’d leave and I’d be forced to take care of myself.”

  “Watch it, Axelle.” His expression turns deadly. “Don’t say it again.”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s the second time you’ve said you love me, and if you say it again, I’ll take you”—he motions to the massage table with a quick jerk of his head—“right there. Right now.”

  Blood pounds through my veins and I throb everywhere.

  “I—”

  “I’m serious, Ax.” He pinches his eyes closed and drops his chin. “I’ve been waiting for a year to touch you again, to taste you. I’m walking a fine line right now.”

  My legs turn to jelly at the husky sound of his voice. “You wouldn’t.”

  His eyes snap to mine. “Oh, I would. I’ve never stopped loving you, never stopped dreaming of a future with you. Not a single fucking day. You still love me.”

  I sigh because he’s right. Of course I love him; that’s not something I could turn off. Trust me. I tried. “I always have.”

  “Stop.” His voice cracks.

  “It’s true. I—”

  His big body slams into mine, and his mouth crashes against my lips, taking away every last bit of my voice and rational thought.

  Thirty-three

  Killian

  I’m home.

  But it’s not a casual arrival.

  It’s a smash-the-door-down-and-light-the-fucking-place-on-fire kind of arrival.

  Axelle tastes even better than I remember; the light sweetness of her lips mixed with the peppermint of her tongue makes me ravenous for more. Whatever doubts I had about her feelings for me are put to death by the passion behind her kiss. Her hands rip through my hair, fingers dig into my neck, pulling me deeper under her spell.

  I grip at her polo and push it up to expose her breasts. She backs up a few steps, and my lips chase hers until she stops when her ass hits the massage table. I push her bra up to join her shirt, and the heavy weight of her breasts welcomes my touch. “I missed you.”

  She groans as I run the pad of my thumb along her nipple. “This is wrong.”

  “Shhh.” I dip down and flick the firm peak with my tongue. “It’s right. It’s always been right.”

  Her delicate hands glide up my chest and around my neck, holding me to her as I shower her breasts with attention. “Kill.”

  I growl in approval at the hungry way she says my name, then cup her between her legs. “You want me here?”

  “I…” She shakes her head, but her body arches into my touch.

  “I need you to say the words. I need to hear you.”

  “Yes.” The single word comes out on a heated breath.

  I slide my hands into her tight pants and push them, along with her panties, down to her ankles. That one word pushed off the last of her reservations, and she eagerly toes off her shoes and kicks her clothes off her feet as I remove the shirt and bra. I pull the elastic band that holds her hair back, and her silky hair falls free over her shoulders.

  “I dreamed about you, about how you’d look after a year without seeing you. The dreams were incredible and yet not even close to how beautiful you really are.” I scoop her up to place her back on the table, and she parts her legs in invitation. My gaze devours her from the way her dark hair splays across the white sheets to the tips of her blue-painted toes.

  “Killian, I want this, but—”

  I smother her lips, cutting off her protest before she can talk herself out of it. Whatever her objection is to us being together, her body doesn’t agree as is evident when I move to the spot between her legs.

  We moan in pleasure together until she’s writhing against me. I need more, need to be deep inside her, losing myself to her.

  “Ah, fuck.”

  “What?” Her chest is rising and falling with the power of her breath.

  I drop my forehead to her chest, kissing her breasts. “No condom.”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  My eyes dart to hers.

  “After the…um…” She shakes her head, and I drop a soft kiss to her lips.

  “Are you sure it’s okay?”

  “As long as you’re clean.”

  “I am.” I lick at her bottom lip. “I wouldn’t come near you if it was even a question. You know that, right?”

  Her fingers dance through my hair. “Yes, I know that.”

  We sink into the pleasure of each other’s lips, and she reaches between my legs to touch me over my shorts.

  I hiss as the heat of her palm presses against me. “Missed those hands.”

  “They missed you too.” She strokes me into a frenzy, and before I know it, I’m naked and crawling onto the massage table.

  She welcomes me between her legs, and the second we make contact we both suck in a breath as her heat envelops me. I grit my teeth and edge in slowly, terrified of hurting her, and the sensation is beyond imaginable. Little by little we come together completely, her chest pressed to mine so much I can feel her heart pounding against my ribs.

  I slide my arms beneath her back, my hands coming up behind her to grip her head. I ease out and in with intentional strokes, savoring every lick of pleasure she coaxes from me.

  “Yes.” Her chin tilts to capture my lips, and I kiss her with the intensity of a man starved for a year.

  Our movements turn feverish in an explosion of emotion from a year of being apart. This isn’t the slow connection I was hoping for, but we’re too lost in each other to go slow, giving in to the passion that burns hot between us. Her breath hitches with every thrust until she cries out so loud I cover her mouth with mine. She bites and sucks on my lips as I work her through her orgasm, only sending my own to crash in behind hers.

  She locks her heels at the backs of my thighs as I ride out my release and nuzzle her neck to keep my own moans from carrying out of the room.

  My head is light with euphoria that has more to do with the woman than it does the mind-blowing finish. “You’re perfect, everything…” Emotions pull me in every direction, and I drop my forehead to her neck. “I needed this.”

  She sighs and releases her lock on my legs. “You needed…this.”

  There’s a coolness in her voice that turns my blood to ice. I pull back and stare down at her, but she’s looking away.

  My gut clenches and my chest aches. “What?”

  She wiggles beneath me, and I push back to my knees so she can get up and off the table. “I made a mistake.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t do this.” She pulls her clothes off the floor and scurries behind a folding wall, hiding her naked body from me.

  “Do what? Have sex?” My gut churns with anger. “Because it’s a little too late for that, sweetheart.”

  Her breath hitches behind the thin paper divider, and I grit my teeth, wis
hing I could take it back. I scoop my shorts up off the floor and slide them on, searching for the right combination of words that will diffuse the explosion I feel coming.

  She steps around the screen, fully dressed, smoothing her hair back into a ponytail. “That is exactly why…” She turns to face me and there’s fire in her glare. “You need to go.”

  I stand firm and shake my head. “No way.”

  Her jaw falls open, and she shoves her finger toward the door. “Go!”

  “No.”

  Her glare sharpens, and I could swear I hear a purr-like growl rumbling in her throat. “What are you doing?”

  “I never should’ve listened to you when you told me to go.” I step into her space. “I’m not going to let you push me away again. Not now. Not ever.”

  “You don’t get a say in what I do.”

  “I do now.”

  She stomps a foot, and if I weren’t so pissed, I’d laugh. “No, you don’t!”

  “Have you not been listening? I am in love with you—”

  “Don’t do that!” Her eyes glisten with tears.

  I want to touch her, to pull her to me and hold her tight until she understands, but I can tell by her rigid stance that’s not what she wants. “Axelle Rose Daniels.” I take a step closer, pleading with her to hear me. “I love you.”

  “Stop saying that.” She shrinks back and her lip trembles. “Stop saying you love me when you’re leaving for London next week.”

  My pulse speeds, but my blood feels like mud in my veins. “How would you know that? No one’s supposed to know—”

  “Cam said—”

  “I’m not sure if I’m leaving.”

  She blinks up at me. “So, you’re staying? In Vegas?”

  “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “I thought I’ve been making this clear. It depends on you. If you’ll give us a shot, I’m staying to take it. But if this is all we have left, me holding on while you’re kicking me off, Ax…” I shake my head, unable to complete the thought let alone say the words. “I’ll fight for us, but I’ll need you to fight too.”