She just shrugged.
In an attempt to lighten the moment he said with a smile, “You’re so very fucked up. You know that, right? So smart, yet so dumb.” He tapped her head with his finger. “Well, I’m here now. You can count on me.”
“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered, running a finger down his cheek. He looked at her, for a moment unsure how to respond. Then he stood up with Chrissy in his arms and carried her with ease up the stairs to his bedroom. Gently he set her on the bed and proceeded to get her naked. Then he walked over to a drawer, pulled out one of his T-shirts, and slipped it on her.
Chapter 9
“What are you doing?” Chrissy asked.
“Getting us ready for bed.”
“But …” She sat up. “I had other things in mind.” Mission Don’t-Sleep-with-Jack was out the window. Plan aborted.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression, Chrissy. Trust me when I say that it’s not that I don’t want you. It’s taking all my self-control not to have my way with you right now. But you’ve had a long day. You just divulged a big secret that has been eating at you for eleven years. I don’t want to take advantage.”
She covered his mouth with her palm. “Take advantage. Please,” she begged. “You talk too much sometimes.” She replaced her hand with her lips, slowly, gently kissing him. She noticed he was still, as if scared to touch her. If there was one thing she hated—loathed, actually—it was pity. She didn’t want him to pity her. “Jack, I’m glad I told you. I’ve never told anyone else everything. But I can’t stand you looking at me like that. I need this. I need us. Together. Help me forget, Jack. Touch me, and help me forget.” He groaned. “I can’t stand pity. Don’t make me regret telling you. Please.”
“Pity? Is that what you think I feel? Quite the opposite. I see a strong woman in front of me.” He rubbed her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “A loyal, confident, brilliant woman who feels she needs to conquer the world on her own. I feel lust. I feel renewed. But pity? No, definitely not pity.” He twisted his big hand around her hair, pulled her head back. “But I don’t want our first time to be like this. I want to make love to you for hours. Taste you from head to toe, and when you can’t take it anymore, I want to plunge into you. It’s the middle of the night. You’re exhausted and I have a big fight tomorrow. I have to be at the gym in three hours. I’m not rushing this. God, I can’t believe I finally got you on my bed, instead of against a wall or a car, and I’m going to tell you that we can’t make love.” She pouted, and he sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you forget.”
She cocked her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. He pushed her down, and her head hit the pillow. He grabbed both of her thighs and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed, then dropped to his knees.
“Jack?”
“So beautiful.” He ran a finger from her navel down to her slick and wet pussy. He lifted her right leg and planted small kisses behind her knee. Then he made his way up her thigh, kissing, licking, nibbling. She bucked wildly. He placed his large hand on her stomach to keep her still as he worked his mouth closer to her sex.
When he arrived at her mound, he parted her lips and ran a finger up and down her slit. Then he slowly slid a finger inside her and began working his magic fingers. He was rewarded with a loud, incoherent moan. When he realized she was about to climax, he placed his mouth on her. The moment he slid a second finger inside her and sucked, she started to come undone. She was so wild and frenzied, he pulled her closer to him and threw her legs over his shoulders to hold her hips down as the most intense orgasm of her life rippled through her body.
Jack continued kissing her thighs and reached up to caress her stomach and arms, slowly making his way from the floor to the bed. She was pliant.
“Wow. That made me forget everything. Right now I can’t even remember my name.”
He laughed. “I aim to please, Chrissy.” He smiled and placed a kiss on her cheek. Her eyes had not reopened, and she was still halfway down the bed. He lifted her up and placed her head on a pillow, then took off his shirt, leaving only his boxers, and climbed into bed with her and brought her close to him. “Sleep, baby. You’re not alone anymore.”
She mumbled something inaudible, and they were both asleep in seconds.
The next morning, Chrissy woke up to an empty bed. Her body felt pleasantly sated, but her heart stung. She was nervous that she had just too much baggage for Jack to handle and he’d woken up and run for the hills. Thankfully, that thought quickly evaporated when she saw a note and breakfast waiting for her on the dining table when she shuffled downstairs.
Chrissy,
I had to go to the gym and train. I’ll see you later. Enjoy breakfast. I’ll be thinking about you.
—Jack
She heated up the eggs and ate the fresh fruit and coffee he’d left for her, tossing some eggs to Drogo while she munched away. She couldn’t help the silly grin on her face. Though she wasn’t sure how this all would pan out, she was going to enjoy him. He had been there for her, both physically and emotionally, last night.
By 4:00 p.m. they were walking into an auditorium a few miles away from town together. They went in through a service entrance by the back, where they were met by other fighters and their small entourages in the locker room. Jack picked a quiet corner away from the rest of the fighters to prepare. A few minutes later, Cain, the quiet man she’d met at the bail hearing a few days earlier, came in. Cain gave Chrissy a brief smile before giving Jack a few pointers and telling him he’d be back before the match to tape up Jack’s wrists. Just as quickly as he’d come in, he left the room.
“Not much of a talker, huh?” Chrissy asked Jack.
“Not at all. But he’s a good guy. We’ve trained together for years. My trainer, the owner of WtF Academy, has been having health issues and is retiring soon. He couldn’t come today, so Cain and Slade have been taking over most of the training at the gym. Slade and another guy, Travis, will be here soon.”
“Shouldn’t you have one of them here with you?” Chrissy looked around and saw all the other guys with their trainers.
“I’ve been doing this forever—I’ve got it covered. Cain’ll come back later with the guys. They’re working with a young fighter from the Academy who is on the same card tonight. This is the guy’s pro debut.”
“So just you and me, huh? Should I, like, I don’t know, rub your shoulders, or make you do some jumping jacks, or yell at you for motivation or something?”
For the first time all day, Jack smiled. “You can definitely rub my shoulders, but please don’t yell at me, not for motivation or otherwise.”
“Ha ha.”
“Come, I want to talk to you.” Jack reached for her hand, laced his fingers with hers, and led her to an adjacent room. The room was big but dark and dusty. It had punching bags, a cage, and a boxing ring.
“What is this?”
“It’s just an extra cage and some equipment they bring into the auditorium when there are other fights. If this were a boxing match, they’d bring out the boxing ring. It’s like a storage room.”
“Wow. I’ve never actually been this close to the cage. It’s big. Looks kind of scary. Do they lock you in?”
“Yeah.”
She walked closer and grabbed the chain-link fence around the ring. “Looks scary.”
“Not as scary as I will be if you don’t stay outta trouble tonight.”
Chrissy snapped her head back and looked at Jack. There was no sense of humor in his gaze, only seriousness and intensity. “You’re going to watch me from right outside the cage, okay?” They were not in the same seedy warehouse they’d been in the last time. Outside the storage room they were in was a small auditorium with lights and security. There were women, men, and children. An assortment of judges and state officials sat at a long table, paramedics stood to the side, and several referees were in or around the steel cage.
“Why can’t I just buy a
ticket and sit in the stands?” she whined.
“Because I want you where I can keep an eye on you. You get into a lot of trouble when you’re left alone.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do. Damn it, don’t argue with me. I don’t have time.”
Jack was a conundrum, she thought. There was gentle, loving, attentive Jack. The one who protected her, cared for her, wanted to take his time having sex with her. Then there was Jack the caveman. The one who spoke dirty things to her, the one who fucked her against walls. Scratch that—not fuck, because they hadn’t gotten that far yet, but mauled. The one who mauled her and made her come senselessly against walls. The one who commanded her. The one who dominated her. The one who made her go weak in the knees. She was an intelligent and independent woman, and caveman Jack should repulse her. But herein lay the problem: caveman Jack was her favorite Jack.
She didn’t know when she’d become the subservient damsel in distress, but she loved this side of him. Archaic as it might be, it made her hot. Every time he scolded her or ordered her around, yes, she fought it, pouted, talked back, but secretly she wanted him to rip off her clothes and take her right then and there. And at that moment, with him shirtless and being all authoritative, she secretly pleaded with him to do just that.
What the hell is that all about? Maybe it’s time to see a therapist!
“Fine, Jack Daniels. I’ll stay put.” But her tongue involuntarily darted out of her mouth and moistened her top lip. “And you brought me into this room because …?”
“I knew you’d give me lip.” He inched toward her. “I knew you’d argue or find a way to contradict me.” She swallowed but her mouth was suddenly dry and her heart was pounding.
He groaned and stalked her toward the cage. “Do not provoke me, Chris. I need to focus. I’ve been training for months.”
Is it getting hot or what?
She lifted an eyebrow. “Sorry, Daniels.”
He groaned again. She could see the pulsating vein on his neck and knew that the adrenaline in his body was surging, and not just from the upcoming fight. They were in a darkened storage room, less than an hour before Jack was to fight; the noise from the cheering crowd watching the fight currently taking place was deafening. “Don’t fuck with me, Chrissy.” Oh, please fuck with me, she silently pleaded.
“I’m not,” she lied. She looked up at him innocently. But her breathing was a little ragged, and he could see the swells of her breasts moving up and down as he pushed up against her.
“You know I don’t like it when you call me Daniels. You know you’re trying to fuck with me. Don’t act coy. You are purposely pushing my buttons.” With her back against the cage, he reached down and grabbed her right leg and wrapped it around his hip, his other arm above her, holding the chain-link fence. She whimpered; his erection was so close to her eager sex that had she not been wearing panties, he’d practically be inside her already. “I asked you to dress appropriately. Why would you wear a short skirt? Thank God you’re at least wearing a bra today.”
“Last time I wore jeans, and you didn’t like it. This time I wore a skirt, because it’s hot as hell outside, and it’s not inappropriate. I’m starting to think nothing I wear is appropriate in your mind. What the hell do you want? For me to come naked?”
“Naked? No, Chris. Naked would most certainly be inappropriate. Covered head to toe in a burka was more along the lines of what I was thinking.” Her body slowly began pressing closer to his. His mouth was by her neck and she could feel his warm breath.
Without any fanfare he slid her panties to the side and slipped a finger in her. If this is his idea of punishment, I’ll take it any day! Her eyes hazed over and she almost melted. The crowd continued yelling and cheering while his fingers moved in and out of her. It felt weird, because she wasn’t an exhibitionist, but the roaring crowd a few feet away made it that much more exhilarating. The more noise she heard from the other side of the door, the more aroused she became.
“I told you to stop goading me. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.”
She reached between them and pulled down the waistband of his shorts. His arousal sprang free. If his dick could speak, it would’ve thanked her—it had obviously been suffering in the tight confines of his attire. She grasped it and positioned it against her slickness. At that point she was so turned on she would’ve let him have his way with her in the middle of the auditorium with everyone watching.
“You sure about this, Chrissy? There’s no going back after I put my cock in you. Things will change.” Her back was completely pushed up against the cage and the cold metal rubbed against her back.
“I don’t know what that means, but yes, Jack. Yes. Oh, Jack.” His wet finger was still inside her. Her hand remained on him, moving back and forth with the tip against her wetness, but he wouldn’t let her put him in her. His fingers continued working her. He slipped a second finger inside her while the palm of his hand rubbed against her clitoris. He covered her moans with his mouth. “Jack!”
A deep guttural groan came out of him. “Come for me. Oh my God, Chrissy, sweet, delicious Chrissy …”
She kept pumping him back and forth and they came together in an intense, forget-where-you-are kind of explosion.
After a long moment, when she caught her breath, she slid her leg down and straightened her skirt. He tucked himself back into his shorts. “I can’t believe we just did that.” She put her head against his chest and looked down, mortified.
“I know. I haven’t been jerked off like that since high school. Holy shit, that was good. How am I going to fight now?” He laughed.
“Why didn’t you …”
“Fuck you? Why didn’t I fuck you?”
She nodded.
“If I didn’t fuck you last night in my bed, I’m not going to fuck you in the backroom of an auditorium, against a cage, where someone could’ve walked in on us. I told you, when we finally do get together, I’m going to need the entire night.
“Come on, I’m sure the fight’s almost over, and I think I’m next. Cain’s probably looking for me. The restrooms are just outside the door. I need to clean up a little.”
“Yeah, me too,” Chrissy said.
Jack led her out of the storage room and to the restrooms, where they freshened up and regrouped.
Jack was outside the women’s bathroom when Chrissy stepped out. “Cain’s waiting for me. Come on.”
She nodded and followed behind him. In the locker room, Cain was now talking to Slade and a few other men.
“Whoa! Who’s that?” A lean, slightly familiar blond guy, about the same height as Jack, wearing jeans and a black ribbed tank top and a cowboy hat, turned toward Chrissy. “Howdy, ma’am. You need some help or—”
Jack glared at the man, but before he had a chance to say something Slade interrupted. “Calm those hormones, Texas. This is my sister, Chrissy. Chrissy, this is Travis. He trains with us.”
“ ‘Ma’am’? I’m pretty sure we’re more or less the same age,” Chrissy said with a laugh. “Wait, I know you. You’re Jamie Lynn’s twin brother, aren’t you? You moved to town senior year of high school. We had algebra together.”
“That’s right! How could I forget such a pretty face? And, by the way, a southern gentleman always addresses a lady as ‘ma’am,’ sugar.” He tipped his hat.
“You probably don’t remember her, ’cause she was a nerd who had her head in the books back then.” Slade laughed. Chrissy rolled her eyes. Then Slade turned to Cain. “And this here is Cain. He also—”
“We’ve met,” Cain said in his low voice.
Travis reached for Chrissy’s hand, tilted his hat, and kissed her hand. Chrissy giggled. Jack stiffened. Slade laughed.
“Hey, what’s with the lines on the back of your arm?” Travis asked. Chrissy reached for her arm and felt the marks from the cage, and her cheeks flamed.
Cain gave Chrissy an agitated look before reaching for
Jack’s shoulders and pushing him down on a nearby bench. He dragged a chair toward Jack and sat down. He then took Jack’s hands and began taping them up. Chrissy watched the process curiously.
Travis walked over and threw an arm around her shoulder; he held an apple in the other hand and took a bite. “You see, baby? Those hands are deadly.” Oh, boy, do I know about Jack’s hands. “And the taping needs to be nice and tight to protect his wrists and knuckles.”
“Dude, you mind?” Jack snarled at Travis.
Travis looked sideways at Chrissy; his face was just inches from hers. “Yeah, guess it’s not such a good idea to be hitting on Slade’s baby sister.” He took another bite of his apple. “Unless, of course, you want to be hit on.” He winked before removing his arm. She giggled again. His southern charm was disarming.
Slade was saying something to Jack as Cain continued to wrap Jack’s hands. Then he reached for Jack’s shoulders and massaged them a few times as Jack moved his neck from side to side. Chrissy was enthralled by the entire process. When Cain finished, Jack stood, then jumped up and down repeatedly as Slade continued to talk to him. With the noise from the outside and the other fighters in the locker room, Chrissy couldn’t make out exactly what Slade was saying.
“Aren’t you going to get tired with all that jumping up and down?” Chrissy asked.
“He’s warming up,” Slade said. “He can’t go in there cold; he needs to break a sweat. His muscles need to be loose and warmed up.”
“I guess it makes sense. From a medical standpoint, it’s a good idea to stretch and warm up.”
“Yeah, baby. You see, there are certain rules when it comes to fighting,” Travis said. He was standing close to her again, and every time he spoke to her, especially when he called her “baby,” she noticed Jack’s jaw twitch. “You load up on carbs the night before. You drink lots of water and eat healthy the day of the fight, and you avoid sex.”
Chrissy’s cheeks flushed. “And what happens if you break any of those rules?”
Against the Cage (Worth the Fight #1) Page 13
