Yield to Me

by Sarah Castille

  With a low, guttural groan, Jax moved over her, covering her with his body, and sank into her hot, wet channel. Marcy gasped and arched, pushing against him. Christ. He couldn’t hold out. His hips bucked, and he thrust and withdrew, driving into her slick, moist heat over and over again. When he felt her pussy quiver and tighten, he slid his hand between them and pinched her clit. “Come for me, little fighter.”

  She climaxed with a shriek, her body shaking, trembling violently beneath him.

  Too much. Too beautiful. “Fuck.” He hammered into her, his cock thickening, engorging, until finally his spine tingled, and pleasure erupted from his body in long, hot, heated jerks.

  He collapsed, his chest pressed tight against her breasts. When the fog began to lift from his brain, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, eliciting a tiny shudder from her body.

  God. He wanted her all over again.

  Fuck. What the hell had he done? He’d resolved this morning to keep it professional, and his resolve had lasted barely twelve hours.

  He pulled away and disposed of the condom. When he returned, Marcy was curled up against the wall, a first aid blanket wrapped around her. Her hair had come free from her ponytail and fanned over her shoulders in a silken, chestnut wave. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen. So lovely he ached.

  A frown creased her brow, and she bit her lip. “Is something wrong?”

  When he didn’t answer, she bunched the blanket in her fist and stared at the mat. “You’re going to stop training me, aren’t you?”

  Yes. But he couldn’t say the word out loud. Before their encounter last night, he’d had some small doubt about her submissive nature. Now, he had none. And what she needed now was comfort and reassurance. Not the raw, brutal truth of regret.

  “We’ll find a way around the training issue.” He cringed at the meaningless platitude. No doubt Reid would be able to find a new coach, but then what? Jax lived on the road, travelling from club to club, never staying for more than a few months in one place. No attachments. No commitments.

  No relationships.

  No loss.

  On some level, he’d thought that sex with Marcy would quench the fire that burned within him whenever she was near. But he’d been wrong. Taking her, discovering they shared similar interests, a similar kink, had only made him want her more.

  He should have let her walk away.

  “You think I’m sexually submissive,” she murmured against his chest.

  He brushed his finger under her chin and tilted her head back until she met his gaze. “I know you are.”

  “If I am, what does that make you?”

  “I like to be in control.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Especially when I’m dealing with a fighter who lacks restraint.”

  “You seemed to restrain me just fine.” Her eyes softened, and her body melted into him.

  Jax’s voice thickened as his imagination ran wild. “I’d like to do a lot more than just restrain you with my hand.”

  She shuddered in his arms, and her cheeks flamed. “I’d like that, too.”

  Jax pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why does it embarrass you? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your kink. There are lots of people out there with the same needs. Lots of people who can give you what you want.”

  She rested her cheek against his chest. “I’ve always had fantasies, dark fantasies. When I first started dating, I hid them away. But the more I dated, the harder it became to hide them. I asked my boyfriends to restrain me or spank me, and sometimes even use a flogger. And they tried. Lord, they tried. They wanted to please me. But it wasn’t the same. They weren’t into it. They didn’t understand there is more to it than just the physical act. And although you say there are lots of people like us out there, I couldn’t find them.”

  He stroked his hand down her hair. “They are out there. You just need to know where to look.”

  She drew in a ragged breath and then stiffened in his arms. “I had a serious boyfriend in college. Preston. He was smart, witty, charming, good-looking. We shared the same taste in friends and music. We had fun together. But he was very straight in bed, so I locked away those fantasies and pretended I didn’t have those needs.”

  Jax rubbed his hand up and down her back. He knew what it was like to hide his darkest desires. His family epitomized the word “uptight,” but after he’d left home and stumbled on the kink scene, he’d never had to hide again.

  “Then one night we went to a party,” she said softly. “I don’t think he knew what kind of party it was. But in every room in that house, people were acting out the very things I had imagined. It made me so … hot.” She stumbled over the word and buried her face in his chest. “I don’t think I had ever been so aroused. We left right away, of course. But when we got home, I told Preston what I’d been hiding. And because he wanted to make me happy, he tried. That night, he tried everything I asked. But in the morning when he woke up…” She choked back a sob, and Jax tightened his arms around her.

  “Shhh, little fighter.”

  Marcy took a deep breath. “He looked at me with such disgust. He told me I was perverted and sick and that I’d corrupted him. And then he left, and I never heard from him again.”

  Anger flared through him, and he bit back a growl. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Marcy. We all have needs. Different needs. People who would judge you for them aren’t worth your time. You shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are. And if you want to find people who share your interests, the kink scene would welcome you with open arms.”

  “I don’t need a kink scene,” she said. “Just someone who understands me and accepts me for who I am.”

  * * *

  “Fuck, Marcy. You have to focus.”

  Marcy bit her lip and slid off Jax’s chest. The last hour had been the most grueling training session of her entire career. Jax had gone from patient and understanding to abrupt and temperamental—angry, even—in the space of a night and a day.

  She should have guessed something was up after their encounter. Although he’d been attentive and courteous after they’d locked up the gym, he’d been distant as he walked her to her car, giving her only a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before saying good-bye. She’d been up most of the night wondering what she’d said that had made him withdraw. Had she pushed too far? Opened herself up too much? Had her candor scared him away? Maybe he’d thought she wanted more than a casual affair, and since he was leaving in a couple of weeks, he needed to put some distance between them. Make sure she understood it was sex and nothing more.

  On the pretense of getting a drink, she grabbed her water bottle and slipped out of the ring. Her stomach was twisted in a knot, and every minute she spent pressed up against his body practicing submissions made the pain infinitely worse. She couldn’t take another hour. Definitely not two.

  As she added a few drops of water to her already-full bottle, Reid joined her at the cooler.

  “You okay?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m fighting in the ROC event in two weeks, and Jax has been replaced by his evil twin brother who is determined to spend the rest of the evening tossing me around the mat like a rag doll.”

  Reid shook his head, his face grim. “This is my fault. The minute I saw you two together in the ring, I knew I should pull the plug. In this profession, coaching and relationships don’t mix. Not that it can’t work, but it takes a lot of effort when you’re in close physical contact all the time.”

  “We’re not in a relationship.” She sighed and twisted the cap on her water bottle. “Last night when I thought he’d raised issues he wasn’t planning to tell me, things got out of hand. But it’s fine now. He’s probably acting the same as he usually does, and I’m just being overly sensitive. I’ll get over it.”

  Reid studied her for a long moment. “Jax is only here for a couple of weeks and then he’s going to Miami. He’s got nothing permanent here. His car, apartment, even his phone were provided by the gym as p
art of the contract. He’s never stayed longer than two months in a city. Says he prefers it that way. He wants a life without attachments or relationships.”

  “Reid … I know. I’m a big girl. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone.”

  He held up a hand, forestalling her. “If it’s not working out for whatever reason, just say the word, and I’ll find someone else to coach you.”

  Someone else? Despite Jax’s sudden personality change over the last hour, she couldn’t imagine training with anyone else. Jax understood her in a way no one else ever had. So why was he pushing her away?

  “Thanks.”

  Reid tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, and then he swallowed. “Marcy…” He cut himself off when she gave him a puzzled frown and then dropped his hand. “Nothing. Forget it. I just don’t want to see you get hurt—in or out of the ring.”

  “It’s nice to know you have my back.”

  He gave her a half smile. “I messed up real bad once. Didn’t see something that was staring me in the face, and someone I cared about got hurt. I promised myself it would never happen again. So I’ve always got eyes on you, Marcy. Always have. Always will.”

  * * *

  “Jax?”

  Jax’s head jerked up as he reached for the door handle of his rental car, a sporty Audi A4. Damn. No running away for him. But really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Marcy wasn’t a woman who shied away from confrontation, and tonight he’d given her something to be confrontational about.

  He’d been a fucking bastard.

  Spinning around to face her, he leaned against his vehicle and folded his arms. Aggressive? Defensive? He hardly knew himself anymore. His behavior this evening had been totally out of line, uncharacteristically harsh, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. Part of him wanted to push her away so he wouldn’t have to convince her to fight, when truly, he wanted her submission. Nor did he want to destroy her dreams and open his heart by telling her the truth. But the other part of him, the primal side, wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his cave, ravage her in every way he knew how, coax her surrender, and then hold her in his arms until he had the energy to do it all again.

  Unfortunately, he’d taken out his internal struggle on her.

  “What’s going on?” Marcy had changed into a pair of tight jeans that hugged the curves of her hips and her long, lean legs. With a short leather jacket thrown over a tank top and a pair of worn cowboy boots, her hair loose and spilling over her shoulders, she took his breath away.

  For a long moment, he didn’t speak, caught off guard by her frank question and wary of where it might lead.

  She sighed and shook her head. “You were brutal in there. Harsh, abrupt—”

  “You weren’t focused.” He scrambled for a plausible explanation. “It was like we were starting from the beginning.”

  “You didn’t give me a chance,” she snapped. “Five minutes into the session, you suddenly went on the attack. Is it because of last night?”

  Jax’s stomach tightened when her voice wavered, and he cursed himself for allowing things to get this far, especially when he either had to tell her the one thing that might destroy her dreams or walk away.

  Run away. Like he always did.

  “No, of course not.” Even he didn’t believe his own lie.

  She met his gaze with a level stare, her eyes glittering under the dim glow of the overhead streetlight. “Then kiss me,” she said, an unmistakable challenge in her voice. “Kiss me and show me that what happened in the gym tonight is separate from what happened in the gym last night. Show me we can make this work.”

  A choice that wasn’t a choice at all.

  With a groan, he pulled her into his chest and slanted his mouth over hers, crushing her lips in a bruising kiss, slaking the thirst that had burned in him since she’d walked into the gym this evening.

  Marcy moaned, a deep, guttural sound that hardened him in an instant. His hands glided over her body, cupping her ass and pulling her tight against him. Blood pounded through his veins as he devoured her mouth, giving her no respite until she whimpered.

  Appalled at his loss of control, he pulled away. But Marcy followed him, pressing her soft, sweet breasts against his chest, her breath whispering over his lips.

  “Jax?”

  No. God. No. He had to stop. It could take weeks to find her a new coach, and he would do her more harm than good if they became involved while he was training her. Tonight had been a case in point.

  “Jax?” Her voice rose in pitch, and his stomach clenched with guilt.

  “Fuck. I’m sorry.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, as much to clear the fog from his brain as to keep his gaze off her lush lips, pink and swollen from his kiss. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, and last night … and the night before, I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

  Her breath caught, and she stared at him, aghast. “But … I wanted it all to happen. It was my choice, too.”

  He shook his head, jaw tight. “It’s my responsibility to stay in control. You’re just so beautiful, sweet. You were hurting…” His voice trailed off as the irony of the situation twisted his gut. Her success as a fighter depended on his failure as a dominant. If he stayed, he would destroy them both.

  “I’m cutting the contract short,” he said. “I’ll talk to Reid in the morning, but I expect to be gone by the end of the week.”

  For a long moment, she stared at him, her body trembling. Then her eyes hardened. “Because of me.”

  “Because of us.”

  “There is no us.” She folded her arms across her chest. “There is you and there is me. We did some training and had sex, but that was all. I didn’t want more. You didn’t want more. If you want to leave, don’t make us the reason.” She took one step back and then another, and then she turned and disappeared into the shadows.

  Fuck.

  Every instinct screamed at him to go after her. But his thoughts were too twisted up to sort through the tangle of emotions churning in his belly. He should be relieved, happy even. It was done. He’d broken it off. Reid would find her another coach, and he’d almost finished with the other fighters he’d been contracted to help. One or two more sessions and he would be free.

  So why did his heart ache at the thought of moving on?

  After turning down an invitation to join the other fighters for a drink at the bar, he drove back to his corporate rental apartment, furnished in bland beige and brown. Here and there, he’d tried to add his own touch: a White Sox pennant, pictures of his family, a drawing from his niece who still hadn’t given up hope he would one day give her a cousin to play with, and a bottle of George T. Stagg, his favorite whiskey.

  Unable to focus long enough to watch TV, he changed into his fight shorts and ran through an exercise routine in the spare room he’d set up as a makeshift gym. When even physical exertion could not calm the raging torrent of need coursing through his blood, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower.

  “Dammit.”

  He turned the shower to full blast, and as soon as the water hit his skin, he fisted his cock and began to stroke.

  Eyes closed, chest heaving, he handled his cock with an uncharacteristic roughness, his hand quickening as he visualised Marcy’s sweet face flushed with arousal. The gentle curves of her body. The dip of her stomach. Her beautiful heart-shaped ass, so soft beneath his fingers. His cock thickened in his palm, and he pumped harder, imagining her breasts, soft and warm in his hands, her pussy wet and ripe for him…

  Fuck.

  Firm now. Faster. Every stroke bordering on pain as the hot water beat down on his body. Punishing himself for drinking deeply of her honey and tasting the sweetness of her lips when he knew that banquet was not meant for him.

  Oh god. Those lips.

  Close. So close.

  He beat himself without mercy, the slap and slide of his hand clearly audible over the pulse of his shower, the sound driving him a
lmost insane as he imagined himself driving deep inside her.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His muscles tightened, and in his mind, he buried himself in her soaking pussy, pinching her clit so they could come together in a violent, heated rush.

  His balls lifted, tightened. Finally he came, his release bursting from his spine in long, heated jets of liquid pleasure as he groaned, “Marcy.”

  He was well and truly fucked.

  Chapter Nine

  “So he’s really gone?”

  Marcy’s heart stuttered in her chest as she dropped into the chair across from Reid’s desk. She hadn’t really believed Jax when he’d said he was leaving, and when she’d seen him in the gym yesterday, she’d thought he’d decided to stick around. But the minute Reid had called her into his office, she’d known. He was gone, and he hadn’t even bothered to say good-bye.

  Reid scraped a hand through his hair and gave her a sympathetic look. “Jax talked to me yesterday. He said something had come up, and he had to break the contract. He flew to Miami this morning.”

  Stunned into disbelief, Marcy just stared. What kind of fighter gave up after one fight? She’d had worse disagreements with Preston and, except at the end, they’d always managed to work things out. But then she and Preston had been together for years. She’d known Jax only a few weeks, and that knowing wasn’t knowing at all.

  “Did he leave a number?”

  Reid shook his head. “He dropped off the keys, refunded the money I’d paid him, and apologized for his abrupt departure. I told him to keep the fee since he’d helped everyone through their issues, but he refused.” He paused and his eyes softened. “He said he’d hurt you more than he’d helped you, stalled rather than progressed your career by telling me you weren’t ready, and it was something he would always regret.”

  “I get it, Reid.”

  Reaching across the desk, he squeezed her hand. “You gonna be okay? I know there was something between you—”

  “No. It was nothing. He was just a coach.”

  Just a coach.

  Nausea roiled her gut, and she spun around and walked into the hallway.