It seemed like they were only practice-fighting. Probably part of the training, she hoped. However, she knew that any blows to the head could cause severe damage, and she was nervous. A few moments ago, when she had realized he was only training, she’d been ready to leave, but now that she saw he was about to practice-fight, she couldn’t muster the strength to make her feet move. If he got hurt, he would need her. She was a doctor and had years of medical experience, after all.
“The vigilante strikes again,” whispered a deep, husky voice from behind her. She was so engrossed in what was happening inside the gym that she hadn’t noticed Jack walking toward her, and his voice startled her, causing her to lose her balance and tumble toward the ground. Luckily, he was close enough that he caught her right before she fell.
“You scared the shit out of me, Jack.” She punched his shoulder playfully, and clutched her heart. He was still holding her cradled against his body.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Chrissy?”
“Let me go. I have to see what’s happening in there.”
He slowly released her. “You know you’re crazy, right?”
“I am not crazy! It probably would be less crazy if I went inside, wouldn’t it?” But before he could answer, she continued. “But Slade would be upset and he would kick me out. So I’m just watching. Right now, they’re only play-fighting. I won’t interfere unless he gets injured.”
“Play-fighting?”
“Yeah. Or practice-fighting? Whatever it’s called. His hands are wrapped and he’s in a cage with some big guy, but they aren’t actually fighting. You know … full force.”
He let out a snort. “Seriously? For someone as worldly as you are, you really are clueless sometimes. It’s called sparring. Not play-fighting or practice-fighting. Sparring.”
“Oh, okay. Well, there you go. They’re spar-fighting.” She stepped back onto the milk crates and pressed her forehead against the window.
“Not spar-fighting. Sparring.”
“Whatever. I’ve been stuck in the middle of jungles and living in huts for the last few years. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the weird pastimes of America’s youth or what’s cool in the sports world these days. But ask me to perform emergency surgery using a pocketknife and only your local moonshine for antiseptic, and I’m your girl. At any rate, I can’t leave until they finish. He could still get hurt even if they are just … sparring.” She said it slowly, as if testing out the word.
He frowned. “Seriously?”
“ ’Fraid so.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head as if that would help him make sense of what he’d just heard. “Woman, do you ever listen to anything? I asked you to stay home. Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
Still looking into the window, she reached into her pocket and handed Jack her phone.
“Why’s your phone broken?”
“Dropped it,” she whispered.
“You don’t need to whisper. They can’t hear you. These are concrete walls, and with all the noise inside, as well as the noise from the nearby freeway, I’m pretty sure you can talk normally.”
She shrugged and looked down. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“Yes, I am. But an infuriating woman is going around to dangerous places at night, looking for trouble. So I came to rescue her.”
“I’m not leaving until he does,” she said, pointing toward the window.
Jack let out a big breath, frustrated. “I know the owners. I train here too, by the way. Can I convince you to come inside?”
“No way! He’d be pissed off.”
“Fine.” He sighed in defeat, and she gave a triumphant smile. She went back to looking through the window, letting out a stifled gasp when a punch landed on Slade. Luckily, most of the punches were to his body and not to his face or head.
Jack leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “You know that what you’ve got on isn’t proper night-stalking apparel, right?” His hand reached out and stroked one of her bare legs.
“It was a last-minute decision. I didn’t have a chance to change. But what’s wrong with my clothes?”
“They’re bright pink, baby. Everyone knows you wear black to a sting operation of this caliber.” He chuckled.
“Hey, don’t laugh at me.” She swatted away the hand that was rubbing her leg.
“And you don’t wear a tiny skirt and flip-flops. If you fall during the high-speed foot chase that would undoubtedly ensue, you could hurt yourself.”
“Ha ha. Very funny. And, it’s not a tiny skirt, it’s a summer dress.” He continued running his hand up and down her bare leg.
“So, you train here too?” She spoke to Jack, but her eyes were glued to the window.
“Yeah, I do. In fact, I have a fight coming up.”
Her back stiffened and she looked down. “What?”
“Yeah. I have a fight coming up. The day after tomorrow.”
“Cancel it.”
“Cancel it?”
“Why do you two idiots insist on getting hurt? Can you not fight, please? At least while I’m in town?”
“It almost sounds like you care, Chris.”
She let out a groan and looked down at him. “Don’t flatter yourself.” But it didn’t come out as self-assured as she’d hoped, and he grinned. “Oh, get that goofy grin off your face. You know I care. We’re like family, right?” She threw his words back at him just as he began running little openmouthed kisses along her shoulder.
“Yeah. Just like family,” he mumbled, and stopped kissing her when he realized what he was doing—in a dark alley.
“So, where and when do you fight? You won’t change your mind, will you?”
“I’ve been training for months for this fight. I love fighting, Chrissy, and I’m always careful. Plus I’m good at it. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. It’s sanctioned. Anyway, I don’t fight often, only a few times a year.” She looked at him, concern in her eyes. “You going to come cheer me on?”
“I don’t know, Jack. I really don’t think I can stomach it,” Chrissy said reluctantly. Then she realized what he’d said. “Wait! What are you talking about? You just fought a few days ago. ‘Don’t fight often,’ my ass!”
“You and your wonderful ass need to calm down.” He chuckled. “It’s rare that I, or any fighter, will have fights so close to each other. Before that, I hadn’t had a fight for almost a year. It’s not safe to fight so close together. Your body needs time to recover and you need time to train. But I signed up for these last two because I’ve had a beef with these two opponents for years. It was an opportunity I couldn’t resist, and yes, they happened to be back-to-back. But if I’d gotten fucked up in the last match, I wouldn’t be fighting again. I’m not stupid. Unlike your idiot brother, who thinks he’s indestructible.” He took a deep breath and took a step closer to her. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable doing, but it would be nice if you went. You can see for yourself that it isn’t as bad as you imagine it to be.”
Chrissy thought for a moment as she continued to look through the window. “Since I’m in town anyway, I guess I’ll go.” She smiled down at him and then added, “I’ll bring my backpack full of goodies.”
He grinned. “We’ll go together. It’s about forty minutes away, and it starts at four-thirty.”
“Sounds like a date.” But as soon as she said it, she covered her mouth. “I mean, not a date. An outing … between family … Ugh! You know what I mean.”
He just laughed. “Yes. Just a family outing.”
It was another half hour before Chrissy finally decided she could stop watching through the window.
“It looks like he’s finished. He’s changing. Come on, let’s go.” She jumped off the crates. “Hurry up, slowpoke. I don’t want him to see me.” She pulled him toward her car. “Oh, you parked next to me. How’d you find my car? I thought I was being so undercover.”
He laughe
d.
“You’re always laughing at me,” she said, with a pout.
“God, you’re adorable, you know that?”
She didn’t know why, but she had a sudden urge to kiss him. She knew it wasn’t the best idea—it completely went against her plan—but he was irresistible. She put a hand on the nape of his neck and tugged his head down toward her. She rose onto the tips of her toes and gently swiped her closed lips against his. As she pulled away, he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her toward him to deepen the kiss.
“Just so you know. Your lips are not allowed to touch my lips chastely. They make me go crazy. So even if you mean for these little kisses to be innocent, I will always make them into something more. I can’t help it. If you don’t want me to devour you, don’t kiss me.”
She didn’t respond, and he must have taken that as an invitation because his mouth collided with hers again. It was a frenzy of desire and heat. He lifted her up to the hood of his car, and she threw her arms around his neck. He placed his hands right above her knees and roughly spread her thighs open, then reached for her hips and brought her closer to the edge of the hood so that he could fit his body snugly between her thighs. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he groaned. Why do my legs keep doing that? She didn’t remember the last time she wanted a man as much as she wanted Jack. Okay, it had never occurred before—that’s why she couldn’t remember.
God, the man could kiss. The kiss itself was an orgasm waiting to happen. She couldn’t help but rub against him, and the more she rubbed, the more frenzied the kiss became. His hand ran all the way up the back of her leg and under the hem of her dress. Instead of fighting him, she inched closer. If it were possible for her to get any closer to him, to actually crawl into his skin, at that moment she would have done it. “Baby, my God. You feel so good,” he whispered against her neck as his kisses moved down to her collarbone, causing her head to fall back allowing him full access.
But the noises from people leaving the gym shook them out of the moment. “Damn it,” he groaned. “Come on.” He hoisted her up and over his shoulder, then headed toward the other side of her car, where they’d be better concealed.
“Where are you taking me?” She pounded on his lower back.
“We can’t do this here, Chrissy.” He reached her car and flipped her back down. Her big eyes were glazed with desire. “Get in your car. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“You’re not sleeping at your house?” She didn’t mean for her voice to sound so dejected.
“I work all night, honey.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek, then helped her into her car and buckled her in. She was frazzled. Confused. Turned on. He reached for his pocket and took out a key.
“Here, these are the keys to my house. I bet you locked yourself out when you ran out to your covert mission. Can you call me when you get home so I know you’re safe?” he asked.
“I’ll see what I can do with this broken phone. If not, I’ll just use your house phone.”
“Sleep well, babe.” He leaned in, kissed her again on the cheek, and closed her door.
On the drive home she thought about the kiss that still stung her lips. Honey. Baby. Babe. What the hell? She didn’t want to start something that she knew was destined to fail. He lived five hours away from where she was planning on building a life for herself, and there was no way in hell she would stay in town just for a guy. Or would she? He represented everything she didn’t want in a man. Right? He was just a typical horny male. And she … well she was attracted to him. That’s all it was. As she saw it, she had two options. One: stop the flirting. No more touching or kissing. She’d be gone in a few days. Start her job, find a good man, get married, have babies. That was the plan. The sensible plan. The right plan. Well, for all of six hours, she had stuck to that plan and it hadn’t worked. It had been an epic failure. Two: perhaps she could accept that there was an attraction between them. She could have some fun for a few days, and then after Slade’s fight—assuming Slade survived the fight—she’d walk away after having some of the best sex of her life. No feelings hurt. Just sex.
Yeah, right. She wasn’t that kind of girl. She’d read enough romance novels to know that never worked out. She would be crushed. Okay, she was sticking to the earlier plan. This time she would be stronger. Technically, she hadn’t even broken her first resolution. She hadn’t had sex with Jack. They’d just kissed. A lot! Okay, well more than just kissed, but still, they hadn’t had sex sex. So she was sticking to the earlier plan but amending it somewhat.
New plan: no more sex, or almost sex, or kissing, or touching, or fondling of any kind with Jack.
“You listening, libido?” she yelled to herself. “Hands off the beautiful man!”
If only her heart could follow instructions too.
Chapter 8
Chrissy wasn’t home when Jack arrived early the next morning. Her car was gone, so he knew she wasn’t with Slade either. He tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail—he chalked that up to her broken phone. After he’d slept a few hours, he’d go buy her a new phone. She shouldn’t be wandering around in that piece-of-shit car phoneless.
He was bone-tired. It had been a hectic night. After he had said goodnight to Chrissy, he’d received a call about a home invasion. Upon arriving at the scene, he’d discovered that one of the homeowners had been severely beaten by the perpetrator. Dealing with that call had taken up most of his shift.
Now Jack took the fastest albeit most refreshing shower of his life, grabbed a pair of boxers, and threw himself on his bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
A delicious smell woke him. As he opened his eyes, he realized that it was already dark outside. Barefoot, he padded down to the kitchen to see Chrissy cooking and Slade sitting at the table nursing a beer.
“Hey,” he mumbled in a raspy, sleepy voice.
Slade gave him that chin nod that men often did.
Chrissy peeked out from the kitchen. “I hope we didn’t wake you, sleepyhead.”
She was wearing sneakers, a tank top, and the tiniest shorts he’d ever seen. God, did this woman own anything that wasn’t super-short or tiny? Her toned arms glistened from the heat in the kitchen. Her black hair was loose and hung low to her back. Her black-framed glasses were a little crooked on her face, and she had on an apron that he knew belonged to him but which he never used—it was actually longer than her shorts. God, he loved her legs, especially when they were wrapped around him. Drogo sat on the rug a few feet away from her. The image of Chrissy in his home looking so very domestic and comfortable made him feel all sorts of unusual things that he wasn’t ready to delve into just yet.
He shook his head and took a step toward Drogo. Surprisingly, the dog didn’t move and even seemed to welcome Jack’s approach. His tail wagged slightly, and it appeared as if he was happy. Jack smiled back. They were having a silent conversation. Jack moved his hand toward the pup, but as soon as his hand made contact with Drogo’s skin, the son of a bitch snapped at him!
“Shit!” Jack jumped back and inspected the two little indentations on his index finger.
“Bad dog, Drogo. Not good. Not good at all,” Chrissy reprimanded him before reaching for Jack’s hand to check on the damage.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Didn’t break the skin. Shouldn’t have let my guard down. He is a quarter pit bull, after all.”
Chrissy rolled her eyes, “Yeah. Look at him. Definitely part pit bull.”
“I can’t remember the last time I slept so much. I slept like twelve hours. It smells delicious, by the way.” He yawned and stretched his arms over his head as he spoke. The stretch caused the waistband of his boxers to move a little bit lower, revealing the mouthwatering vee that peeked out from his shorts. He saw Chrissy’s eyes move down and her lips part. The corner of his lips slowly formed a big toothy smile. Whom was she trying to kid? He knew that she was attracted to him. The openmouthed stare was a clear sign of that
attraction. His heart and ego swelled.
“You mind getting dressed while my sister’s here, bro?”
Jack’s eyes snapped to Slade, his words rudely rousing him from his thoughts. Slade must have noticed the silent exchange. Chrissy quickly looked away, embarrassed.
“Sorry. Not used to having guests.” He left, slipped on a T-shirt, and came back down.
“I made a roast and potatoes,” Chrissy said. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved. You didn’t have to cook.”
“I know, but I’m not doing anything else, and it’s really the least I can do.”
“Well, I appreciate it. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to sandwiches and pizza when you leave. And look at my traitorous dog—you’re spoiling him. How is he going to go back to canned dog food?” A pang of emptiness hit him all at once. Chrissy would be leaving soon. Damn. Didn’t that just suck? Maybe he was ready to delve deeper.
Slade went to the kitchen and set some glasses and plates on the table. As they sat down to eat, the scene reminded him of their childhood. They used to eat at each other’s homes all the time. It was nice. It was nostalgic.
“Thank you so much for letting me crash here, Jack,” Chrissy said, “but I think I’m going home tonight. Next-door home, not Miami home.”
“Oh. Okay.” He was glad he was eating, because if he hadn’t had food in his mouth, the disappointment on his face would have been obvious. “Be ready tomorrow at three. I’ll pick you up and we’ll head out together.”
“Sounds good.”
“She’s going to your fight?”
“Yes, I’m going. Why?” Chrissy replied, although Slade was speaking to Jack.
Slade slid his plate back. “So, you only give me a hard time?”
Against the Cage (Worth the Fight #1) Page 11
