Thomas sighed. “Her apartment is getting fumigated or something. She needed a place to crash for a couple days.”
“Bullshit,” Nash spat as he swung a leg over his Harley. “There’s shit you aren’t telling me, brother. Spill it now.”
“Like I said earlier, that’s Fiona’s story. Not mine.” And, with that, Thomas hung up on him.
Nash muttered a curse and jammed his cell back into the pocket of his leather jacket. He would get answers. Tomorrow night, when the club closed, he’d hang around and wait. If Fiona had a story to tell, she would give him the truth, and he wouldn’t leave until he got it.
***
Nash had to wait it out. The next night, Fiona left the club with her new boyfriend Eli. Nash had learned a bit of this dom’s history from Thomas, but his brother wouldn’t give up anything confidential.
So Nash sneaked into Thomas’ office and scanned the schedule. He memorized Fiona and Eli’s client roster for the next couple days, searching for a time when they would be separated and he could get her alone. Okay, so he was acting like a jealous creeper, but he wanted answers, and dammit he wanted her back in his life. Maybe this was the wrong way to go about it, but his rage always did cloud his practicality.
When Eli went into a playroom above with a client, Nash asked another bouncer to cover him and he went looking for Fiona. He spotted her going into her apartment alone and he wasted no time getting up the stairs. He found her door unlocked and slipped inside.
She turned from the closet and dropped the robe she held, gasping when he entered the bedroom. “Don’t you ever knock?” A hand flew to her chest.
He shrugged. “The element of surprise works to my advantage.” Nash grabbed a chair, swung it around, and straddled it. He folded his big arms atop it, rested his chin on them, and watched her slip into the silky blue garment. “Why are you really here, sweetheart?”
“Your right to know such things ended with our divorce.”
Nash held up his hands. “Come on. If we’re going to work together, we might as well get along.”
Fiona raised an eyebrow as she sat on the bed. “I thought our truce ended?”
“Let’s renegotiate.” He smirked, but when she didn’t return his amusement, he added, “You all right? If something is wrong … I’d like to help.”
“I’m fine, Nash.” But she wouldn’t look him in the eyes when she spoke. “Really.”
“Why’re you working here then? I thought you were promoting Peter Murphy these days, plus a bunch of other fighters. That should be more than enough to keep you busy.”
She gazed at him, smiled a quick smile, fiddled with the quilt. “I’m not repping Murphy anymore. I just needed a break. Besides, this is something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Spanking people?”
She laughed and shook her head at him. “Domination and submission. I’m into both, but I never felt comfortable telling you that. Especially after how you reacted to me wanting a threesome. I figured you wouldn’t be into it. That and you cheated on me so many times I kind of lost the ability to trust you.”
“I made mistakes in our marriage.” His shoulders sagged. “I was a hypocrite.”
“We both made mistakes.”
He nodded. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
He stared deep into her emerald eyes. “There’s been no one else since you. Oh, I’ve slept with other women, sure. But all their faces become your face.”
That got to her. He could tell by the way her eyes glimmered. The way her jaw worked as if she was lost for words.
“Prove it to me,” she said, her voice edged with lust. Then Fiona leaned over and opened a drawer in her nightstand. She removed something that winked silver under the overhead light.
Handcuffs.
“Tie me up and make love to me. Rough. Hard.”
Her gaze held a deep resolve. He knew if he refused, he’d never get another chance, and he’d be a fool to say no. This was her test and he would pass it.
He approached the bed and sat, taking up the metal bracelets. “Take off your robe,” he said, and she readily obeyed, sliding out of it before she lay back on the mattress and placed her wrists against the railings.
His pants grew tight as she splayed out and he placed himself between her creamy thighs. The scenario felt strange. He’d never really consciously dominated her, or anyone, before. He just went with the lust and let nature take its course. But this also felt right. And he wanted to please her. Needed to.
He shed his clothes after he secured her wrists to the headboard, and did so slowly, watching her the whole time in silence.
What the hell was she doing? That little voice in Fiona’s head screamed at her. She was playing a dangerous game—leading her ex on when she was with another man, who also had a jealous streak. This wasn’t smart. She couldn’t promise Nash that after tonight everything would be fixed between them, that she’d fall into his arms and forget about Eli. But desire took over and made her impulsive. Regrets were for later.
He kissed her hungrily, nipping her bottom lip before his tongue explored her mouth. She returned his fervor.
“Pinch my nipples,” she said breathlessly when the kiss broke.
His big hands curled around her breasts, massaging the pale globes, working toward the pinkish brown peaks. Finally his fingers closed around the tips, grasping them and tugging. She gasped as the sharp sensation zipped straight to her groin, making her pussy tingle and grow wet.
“Bite them,” She begged. “Suck them.”
Once more he did as she asked, yanking on the now hardened points with his teeth. The fiery sting made her buck beneath him, made her sex wetter. She throbbed inside and out.
His mouth closed around her aching nipples and he suckled, soothing away the hurt. One hand trailed lower down her body and parted her legs, but he didn’t touch that pulsing bead of flesh at first. Instead he teased her, swirling circles over the trimmed triangle of hair, tickling her thighs.
“Please.” She let out a breathy moan. “Pinch my clit. Use your teeth on it. Please.”
Nash didn’t hesitate. His lips skimmed down the valley between her ribs, over her flat belly. Once again he teased her, kissing, biting, and licking around her pubis mound, down her thighs. He blew on her slick labia but would not give her the release she craved. Fiona thrashed in her tethers and trembled with need.
When his tongue flicked over her clit, she sighed loudly and arched her hips up, bringing her cunt closer to his mouth. He licked between her wet lips and poked his tongue inside her hole, making her whimper from want. Then his mouth closed over that swelling bead of flesh and he sucked it hard. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids and she grit her teeth as intense pleasure assaulted her.
Fingers slid inside her soaking sex and pumped in and out, in and out, in time with his laps at her clit. She climbed higher, closer to ecstasy. He pulled back the hood of her clitoris and laved the throbbing bud with affection while he stroked her g-spot with curled fingers. Fiona went over the edge then, crying out and shuddering as she came hard.
“I want you inside of me,” she whispered as he brought his head up from between her thighs.
Nash needed no further encouragement. He placed her legs atop his broad shoulders, positioned himself between them, and sank his cock into her tight, wet pussy. He was heaven, and she lost herself in the bliss of his slow, sensuous thrusts.
“Harder,” she moaned. “Faster.”
His speed and power amped up and the sound of their flesh slapping together only fueled her carnal bliss.
“Ow! Fuck,” Nash grunted and his cock remained inside of her when he stopped suddenly.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Are you okay?”
His face was taut with pain, and he looked away from her compassion in embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s my damn back … Gives out at the worst times.”
Her heart flooded with empathy. She knew the acciden
t had messed him up badly. Thomas told her Nash had to have disks in his lower back fused and the doctors had predicted partial paralysis. But stubborn as he was, he’d proved them all wrong and worked hard at his physical therapy to regain most of his mobility.
“Go slow,” she told him, wishing she could reach up and stroke the tension from his strained face.
“You wanted it rough.” His voice was raw with shame.
“I want you. That’s all that matters.”
He smiled a small smile then, and gazed into her eyes as his cock moved inside her once more. Slowly but still pleasurably. He reached between them to rub her clit and bring her to orgasm once more. Moments later they both climaxed together.
When he collapsed beside her on the bed, he kissed her cheek and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m not what I used to be. Shit, it takes me an hour to get out of bed most mornings.”
Her heart fluttered again. Fiona swallowed. Suddenly the chains were too restricting. Nash was too close, and this whole situation, with its familiar tenderness, was too dangerous.
She glanced at the clock. Only fifteen minutes until her next client. A perfect way out. “Unfasten the cuffs, please. I have to shower and get back to work.”
The coldness in her voice hurt him. His frown showed the pain. “Sure.” He used the key on the nightstand and snicked each one open. “Could we talk later? After you’re finished here.”
She shook her head and avoided his eyes as she slipped off the bed. “Eli wants me to come home with him tonight.”
His big hand curling around her wrist stopped her before she could disappear inside the bathroom. “I still didn’t get my answers.”
Her eyes locked with his and she frowned. “About what?”
“About why you’re really here.”
“And like I told you before,” she snapped through clenched teeth. “Things like that stopped being your concern when we signed the divorce papers.”
She pulled away from him and strode into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her.
Nash stalked out of the apartment and mimicked her actions. He cast a glare over his shoulder as he walked away from the apartment. It had been a long time since he’d paid a visit to Strength Inc.’s gym, but tomorrow he would go there. Pride and a heavy heart over being denied participation in a sport he loved had kept him away, but truth seeking would take him back.
***
Peter Murphy had been Nash’s biggest rival during his career in the mixed martial arts industry. The Irish brawler once fought bare knuckle matches in Belfast, then went to Brazil in the 90s where he participated in vale tudo matches until he joined the Ultimate Mixed Martial Arts Association in North America. Nash had won the heavyweight championship from the massive, bulldog faced man a year before the accident. Nash took home the belt due to a controversial decision. The fight was so close, Murphy demanded a re-match, which Nash was willing to give him. However they couldn’t schedule a new bout until a year after Nash took home the championship, and a week before the fight Nash had the accident that ended his career. He’d retired and the belt went back up for grabs. Murphy was now the current title holder.
Peter “ the Piledriver” Murphy was jumping rope at the other end of the gym. Nash walked fast in that direction, his focus riveted to the man with a dark crew cut and built like a brick shithouse.
“We need to talk,” he told Murphy, then sat on a bench positioned next to the workout mats.
Murphy barely sneered in his direction and made no reply.
Nash stared at him and stayed on the bench. He’d wait all day if he had to. He could be just as stubborn as Murphy.
Finally the Irish brawler put the rope down and took his time grabbing his towel from where it was slung over a weight bench. He sauntered toward Nash as if he had all the time in the world.
“Thought you retired, old man,” Murphy growled the barb, but Nash barely flinched. “If you’re looking for a rematch, you’ll have to get in line. I got hungry young contenders lining up to have a go at me.”
“I don’t care about your full dance card,” Nash snarled back. “I’m here about Fiona. Wasn’t she repping you?”
Murphy’s lips spread in a smarmy smirk. “She’s not your wife anymore, Falcon. I don’t owe you any answers.”
Nash’s temper broke. He grabbed Murphy and pulled him from the opposite bench, slammed him into the wall, and pinned him there with one hand. “You will give me answers. I’m not leaving until you do. I’ve got nothing to lose, Murphy. Remember that.”
Henry Linn and Frankie Antignani came running over and pulled Nash off the big Irish man. “Whoa, ease up, Falcon,” Frankie said. “First visit back to the gym and you’re damaging the prize fighter? I’d say it’s good to see you, but under the circumstances…”
“Give me ten minutes with him,” Nash snapped. “I’ll keep my hands off. Murphy and I have some things to discuss.”
Frankie and Henry looked from Nash to Murphy. Murphy gave them a nod, indicating it was okay, and they slowly trailed away from the pair of giants.
“I found Fiona working at a place my brother owns,” Nash continued when the other two men were out of earshot. “I want to know why a top Strength Inc. promoter isn’t where she should be.”
The smarmy smirk returned to Murphy’s face. “Fiona made some terrible mistakes.” He wiped sweat from his brow before he continued. “She got greedy. Forced me and her other clients to take steroids. It was my duty to inform Daniel. He had to let her go, and she’s been black balled by all other fighter rep firms.”
Daniel Milligan was the owner of Strength Inc., a fighter representation firm that had employed Fiona. She’d represented Nash when he’d been fighting, and he had heard she’d started repping Murphy and some other fighters just after they divorced. But he knew Fiona would never pressure her clients into taking steroids to gain an unfair advantage. The risks to her clients and her career were just too great. Fiona was too smart for that.
“You sonofabitch,” he said through gritted teeth as he glowered at Murphy. “You set her up, didn’t you? Something happened, and you made Fiona take the fall.”
Peter shrugged. “You’d have to prove that, Falcon.”
Then he got up from the bench and walked away while Frankie and Henry still cast a wary glance in Nash’s direction.
Nash would indeed prove it. He knew things weren’t adding up. Now his suspicions were confirmed. He’d go back to his brother and Fiona armed with this information from Murphy and demand to know more.
***
“Come stay with me tonight,” Eli said as he wrapped his arms around Fiona. “It’s been a while since you slept at my place.”
She let herself relax against his broad chest as she closed her eyes. It was 2 am, and the club was winding down. She had no more clients scheduled tonight, the place would be closed in two hours, and Eli was free now too. She considered his offer as she let her thoughts drift in this peaceful silence.
“Okay.” She turned in his embrace and smiled up at him, caressed his stubbled cheek. “I don’t really want to be alone tonight. I miss waking up in your arms.”
He grinned back and she went to grab her coat while he waited. It had been an exhausting week, what with the showdowns with Nash and the turmoil his presence stirred in her. Not to mention the client whose wife held her at gunpoint. She just wanted to slip beneath Eli’s silk sheets, cuddle up close against him, and sleep off all the stress. Although making love would certainly be on the agenda too, she had no doubt. This would also be great therapy for her troubled mind. She wanted to reinforce her growing bond with him, wanted to reassure Eli that Nash posed no threat to their budding relationship.
He held the door open for her while she slid into the passenger seat of his Chrysler 300. Eli was a gentleman with a gruff side. He knew how to be tender just when she needed it, and she appreciated this.
The ride was short, and she drifted once more as they made their way
to Eli’s apartment. He broke her musings when he pulled into his spot in the parkade next to the building and stopped the vehicle.
“Why don’t you move in with me? At least until we settle things with Peter.”
Her throat knotted up and words wouldn’t form. Why should the prospect scare her so much? Eli was a great guy, gorgeous, and he’d been there for her throughout this fiasco with Peter Murphy. He stared at her, frowning in concern when she remained silent as they walked toward the entrance to the apartment.
Fiona stopped him at the base of the stairs. “Eli, I’m just not ready. I care so much for you—”
“But you don’t love me.” His voice was ragged with hurt.
She stood on tiptoe and brushed a quick kiss across his full lips. “I’m falling, but I don’t want to confuse rebound feelings with true ones.” She brushed a strand of hair from his aquamarine eyes. “Please understand?”
He nodded, but still looked disappointed. “I love you, Fiona. I mean that. I’ll wait, and I’m here for you, no matter what.”
She hugged him tight before they walked up the stairs. “Thank you. I’m grateful.”
Inside, she shed her coat and he poured her a sherry while she settled on the plush, oatmeal colored couch. He was just sitting beside her and handing her a drink when the doorbell rang.
Fiona’s stomach tightened up when a commotion filtered from the hall into the living room. She recognized the voice of the person arguing with Eli, who had gone to answer the door after she and he exchanged a curious glance.
“What the hell are you doing here, Nash?” The two men put some distance between them when she entered the hallway. She stood at the end, arms crossed just beneath her breasts, and scowled at her ex. He was getting in the way all too often lately.
“We need to talk.” He pointed a finger at her. “You lied to me.”
Eli pushed the big man back. “She doesn’t owe you anything. You signed divorce papers, remember?”
Nash shove him in return. “I still have a right to give a shit about her.”
“Whoa, guys.” Fiona moved closer, ready to get between them to prevent violence once again if she had to. “Let him in, Eli.” Then she turned to Nash. “You’ve got ten minutes to say what you need to, then I want you out of here. Got it?”
Surrender Boxed Set (Surrender Series Volume 1 - 7. BDSM romance with man love, bad boys, and billionaires.) Page 57
