by A. J. Norris
“Liam Miller.” I grabbed his arm, twisted it off my shoulders, and turned toward him. “Fuck me, look at you, man.”
We pulled each other in for what I call a bro-hug, patting each other on the back.
“Look at me? Look at you.” Liam stepped back, gripping my biceps. “You look like fucking Vin Diesel…with a shit load of tats.”
“You’re one to talk. You’ve beefed up good.” I glanced from Peyton to Liam. “What are you two doing here?”
Liam pulled his hands through his short blond hair. “Well, I heard about this arrogant son of a bitch who calls himself Steele, and apparently rules the underground fighting scene.” He shrugged. “I had to come so I can kick your ass, bro.”
“You’re fighting?”
“You bet your ass I’m fighting.”
It was our love for MMA that started our friendship years ago. Liam and I were sixteen when we met at the local gym. We signed up for the same kickboxing class, both eager to learn how to fight. Since then we were inseparable. If we weren’t getting drunk, smoking, or chasing girls, we were trying to kick each other’s asses…until I decided to skip town.
Liam held out his hand and looked over my shoulder. “You remember my little sister, right?”
Peyton stepped in next to him, and he placed his arm around her shoulders.
I bit the inside of my mouth while staring at her. “Yeah, I remember your little sister. How could I forget?”
Her gaze found mine, and I noticed how she slightly shifted from one leg to the other. God, those legs were going to be the fucking end of me.
I cleared my throat and turned my attention to Liam. “You sure this is the kinda place you want your little sister to hang out, man?”
“Excuse me,” Peyton started. “The little sister is right here, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me like I’m not here.”
Liam snorted. “You try telling this one what to do. When she heard I was coming here to find and fight you, there was no stopping her. It was either letting her tag along or lose my balls trying to keep her from coming.”
Well, fuck me sideways. A huge ass smile spread across my face. I looked her way and noticed the way she bit her lip, something I knew for a fact she did whenever she felt nervous. I used to watch her bite that lower lip of hers whenever we were around each other. Motherfucker, it used to do things to me—it still did.
“Liam,” a guy called from behind us. “Are you coming or what?”
Liam rolled his head, loosening his neck muscles. “Sorry, bro, I’m up next. We’re going to have to catch up later. Do me a favor and keep an eye on my sister, would you?”
I smiled, but it was directed her way while I locked my gaze on hers. “Sure thing.”
Liam sauntered off, and Peyton was just about to turn around when I grabbed her elbow. “Where do you think you’re going?”
With a jerk, she pulled her arm out of my grip, her eyes burning fiercely as she glared up at me.
“Away from you.”
“You heard your brother. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.” She turned around and started to walk away from me.
“Hey, Peyton?”
She stopped and turned, her blue eyes sparkling under the lights. God, she was even more beautiful than I remembered.
I lifted a brow. “You knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I’d be here. Is that why you came?”
“Of course.”
Heaven help me, but I smiled like the goddamn Cheshire cat.
Peyton’s heart-shaped mouth curved up at the corners. “I came here to see my brother kick your pathetic ass.”
Well, shit.
Her blonde hair flipped over her shoulder as she turned and disappeared among the crowd. All I could do was stand there and admire the view of her perfect legs, and an ass that deserved to be worshiped.
For years I managed to convince myself that I did the right thing by walking away that night. Right now I wasn’t so sure. But one thing was for certain, Peyton Miller might have been off-limits five years ago, but tonight…she’s fair game.
Chapter Two
Peyton
Holy shit. I knew he’d be here, and I knew he’d probably still be just as sinfully gorgeous as he was five years ago when he broke my heart into tiny pieces of pathetic womanhood. But when I saw him in that cage fighting, looking mean and just oozing danger, I knew that coming here was the biggest mistake ever. It even surpassed the giant lapse in judgment I made the night I mistakenly thought that Jonny Kade wanted me. When I thought I stood a chance with a guy like him.
I pushed through the crowd, desperately in search of vodka, tequila, bleach…anything that would flush away the ache inside my chest—and the need between my legs. It’s been years, and still Jonny managed to turn me into a needy little tramp whose mind was filled with nothing but images of satin sheets and dirty deeds.
I exhaled when I reached the bar and ordered a drink. For some stupid reason, I thought I’d be strong enough to face him, to look into the eyes of the man who even after all these years still owned a piece of me. I hoped I’d be confident enough to flaunt that which I didn’t have five years ago, and to shove it in his face. To show him what he had missed out on. God knows I worked hard to get my body in the shape it was now—spent years training, exercising, and made sure that I always looked my best. After the way he rejected me, making me feel like I wasn’t good enough for him, I promised myself that I would never feel as worthless as I did back then.
People were pushing and shoving, everyone trying to get a drink. There were hundreds of people swarming around, drinking, swearing, and dancing to the house music that played between fights. The atmosphere was electric and overwhelmingly contagious. Every man and woman seemed like they were high on life…or ecstasy. Either way, they were fucking high.
After Liam told me about Jonny and the illegal fighting scene he was involved in, I decided to do some investigating of my own. Apparently, these fights took place twice a month, on different days of the week, and at different venues. Two weeks ago it was a school basement. This week it was an abandoned building on the other side of town. But one thing was for sure, these fight nights were every bookie’s wet dream. Even now as I stood at the bar waiting for my tequila, I saw crowds of people exchanging money, bookies making notes. It was insane. Money, blood, and violence seemed to be the aim of the game down here.
I glanced at the doors that Liam and I came through earlier, two big brutes guarding the entrance. That was another thing about these fight-nights. Once you were in, you couldn’t leave until all the fights were over. That’s how they controlled it, how they ensured that no one could alert the police. And I didn’t even bother bringing along my mobile phone since I knew there wouldn’t be any signal. Since Liam entered to fight, he got a lot of inside information. Their use of signal blockers was among those little tidbits of info. The organizers of these events—who no one knew, by the way—took every measure possible to ensure that there were no interruptions, especially from the feds.
Why Liam wanted to join in on this was beyond me. But my big brother was always one to walk on the wild side of life, to live on the edge—which was probably why he and Jonny were such close friends in the past. God knew that’s what had drawn me to Jonny in the first place. He was the exact opposite of what a good girl like me should have wanted. Jonny was wild, carefree, and a bad boy in every way. From the looks of it, he still was…no, scrap that. Judging by the way he fought, he was worse. Jonny Kade was shamelessly bad, viciously untamed, and wickedly tempting. I am so fucking screwed.
I grabbed the tequila shot in front of me, and was just about to toss it back when I felt the softest touch at the hollow of my back. A shiver spread down my spine, and silently I cursed my body for reacting the way it did.
“Jonny,” I whispered, hating and loving that name at the same time.
“Never
thought you to be a tequila girl.”
I closed my eyes, his voice, his presence, everything about him sending waves of electricity crashing against every bone. Amazing how even after all these years, he still managed to make my heart beat faster, my thighs clench tighter.
I shot back the tequila and swallowed, the burn of alcohol doing wonders to calm my nerves. It made me concentrate more on the sting in my stomach than the heat between my legs.
With new tequila-induced courage, I turned to face him. “That’s just another sign that you never knew me at all.”
His dark brown eyes seemed like they were smiling at me with glee, his full lips curved up into a sly grin. “I think the issue was that you never really knew me, Peyton.”
“Yeah, but you pretty much fixed that when you showed me your true colors the night you left.”
He gave a step forward, his tall, big frame casting a shadow over me. Jonny was much bigger than I remembered, his naked chest covered in both bold and intricate tattoos. Roped muscles across his abdomen teased my fingertips, the broad expanse of his shoulders sending images of nails and broken flesh into my mind. Doing nothing more than standing a breath away from me, Jonny exuded strong male dominance. Everything about him screamed alpha possession—raw, savage sexuality…and it all had a direct line to my core. Shit.
He leaned closer, and even after fighting, surrounded by muggy air, he still smelled good. Like peppermint and cologne, with sweat and testosterone as base notes—plus everything deliciously wicked.
My heart started to beat faster and faster the closer he came, and with every ounce of self-control I had, I fought the unwelcome urge to wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips against his. Deep down a part of me wanted to know if he still tasted as good as he did back then, if he would still be able to make my knees weak with just a gentle touch of his lips.
His dark eyes pinned me on the spot, and I leaned back just an inch.
“I’m not a good man, Peyton. I never was. I’m selfish. I’m shameless, and I’m toxic for a woman like you. Leaving you was one of the few right decisions I’ve made in my life, and I don’t regret it.”
His words shot like daggers through my chest, making me suck in a breath.
Five years. Five goddamn years and we haven’t even been in each other’s presence for more than ten minutes, and already he had the power to hurt me.
I kept his gaze, my mind listing the hundred and one reasons I shouldn’t have come here…yet I couldn’t ignore the one reason why I had to come. Because I wanted to. I wanted to see him. I wanted to look into his dark eyes again and feel myself drift away, falling deeper into him. All these years I carried around the uncertainty about me never being able to move on, and I wanted to come here and see if that was, in fact, the case…which it was. All it took was one glance into his eyes and I knew that getting over him would never be an option for me.
I gave a step back, accidentally bumping into someone behind me. I spun around. “Sorry.”
A guy with blond hair tied at the back of his neck and as big as a fucking house looked down at me with eyes so dark, they seemed black. “No need to apologize. Little pretties like yourself are always welcome to bump into me.”
“Um…”
“Back off, Dick.” Jonny placed his arm in front of my chest and pushed me back.
“My name is Rick.”
“I don’t care.”
The way Jonny and Rick glared at each other, it felt like the clash of the titans was about to commence. I could feel the animosity, the hostility slice through the air like a sharp knife.
Rick lifted his chin toward me. “Is she yours?”
“Yes, she’s mine.”
What?
“I am not yours.” I tried to move in front of Jonny, but he just pushed me back again.
Rick smiled, and Jonny scowled at me over his shoulder. “I see you still have the capacity to talk when you should shut the hell up.”
“And you still have the capacity to be an asshole.”
Jonny’s eyebrows slanted inward. “Shut. The hell. Up.”
Okay.
Jonny turned back to Rick. “She’s mine, and you know the rules. No pissing on anyone else’s porch. So you should back the fuck off.”
Rick snorted, and held up his hands in surrender. “Sure thing, Steele. Wouldn’t dream of messing with the champ’s girl.”
Oh, for fuck sakes. I tried to push past Jonny again. “I’m not the champ’s…” But Rick had already walked off, his broad shoulders easily visible through the crowd.
I glared at Jonny. “I am not your girl…or whatever. So I’d appreciate it if you would just leave me the fuck alone. I don’t need you to act all chivalrous trying to protect me.”
Jonny smirked. “Sweetheart, down here, if you don’t belong to someone…you belong to everyone. So right now, belonging to me is your best, and safest option.”
“I don’t belong to you, and neither do I want to. And I’m not your goddamn sweetheart.”
I spun around and rushed through the crowd toward the door with the brutes. I had to find a way to leave, to get away from him. All this talk about belonging to him, about being his was creating a whirlpool of chaos inside my head…and heart.
“Peyton!” he called after me, but I ignored him. I hated how my name sounded on his lips, how his voice still affected me.
I came to a halt in front of the men guarding the doors. “I need to leave.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” one of them replied. “No one is allowed in or out until the event is over.”
“The event?” I snorted. “Is that what you call illegal fighting these days?”
“Peyton, stop.”
I glanced over my shoulder, and saw him standing a few feet behind me. He nodded to the bouncers, and they stepped away, yet the door remained locked.
I sighed. “I can’t stay here with you, Jonny.”
“You should have thought about that before you came here, dream girl.”
The second those words left his mouth, it felt like someone had punched me in the gut.
Dream girl. I used to love it when he called me that, whispering it in my ear whenever no one was around. He would lightly brush his hand against my arm, softly touch my waist every chance he got. Those were the moments I lived for back then, the stolen moments when he would let his guard down and show me that the attraction was mutual. But all those moments got ripped away from me the day he left. And the only things he left behind were nights of longing and days filled with the haunting feeling of rejection.
I bit back the tears that threatened to show my weakness before turning to face him. “Do not call me that, Jonny.”
“You used to love it when I called you my dream girl.”
“That was before you showed me what an asshole you really are.”
His gaze dropped to the floor, and he placed his hands on his hips. “It’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think?” I stepped closer as anger started to burn brighter. “What was I supposed to think? My brother’s friend came on to me for months, leading me to believe that what I felt for him might actually be mutual.”
Dark eyebrows lifted as his gaze met mine. “It was.”
“Bullshit. You didn’t feel anything for me. You played me, and when you finally got me where you wanted me you had the fucking nerve to walk away. What kind of guy does that?”
“It was complicated back then, Peyton, and you know it. It was Liam, it was—”
“—it was the fact that I wasn’t good enough for you. Experienced enough for you. Admit it. You didn’t want innocent little virgin Peyton.” My bottom lip quivered, and I knew the tears were only moments away from falling.
Jonny pulled his hand through his ink black hair. “Good God, Peyton. You couldn’t be more wrong.”
A tear slipped from my eye, but I quickly brushed it away with a harsh sweep of my hand across my cheek. “It doesn’t matter. I’m over it now.”
Jonny gave a step forward, but I stood my ground. There was no way I would allow him to intimidate me, to make me feel weak again.
“I don’t know why I came here. All I know is that when Liam told me you’d be here, I had to come.”
Jonny sighed, then glanced around us while rubbing the back of his neck. “Well fuck, Peyton. You really shouldn’t have come here.”
The way my heart sank like an anchor straight down to the soles of my feet sent an excruciating ache up my spine slamming against my chest. “Fuck you, Jonny.”
“Peyton, look around you”—he held his hands out, indicating to the large crowd of people scattered around us—“this is no place for a woman like you.”
“A woman like me?” I snorted. “Of course. A woman like me. A woman who doesn’t wear a size zero miniskirt with a thong tiny enough to be used as a fucking eye patch. A woman like me who doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing when it comes to pleasing a man.”
“Peyton, stop.” He shook his head and stepped closer, close enough to let me feel the heat that was so familiar, yet so foreign. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”
“I don’t know shit about you anymore. I thought I did, but the day you left you proved to me that what I thought I knew was all a lie.”
Without warning, he reached out and grabbed my elbow in his hand. Instantly, my skin burned, his touch setting my entire body alight.
Dark eyes bore into mine, and for a second I allowed myself to get lost in their depths. Pulling me closer, our faces inches apart, I felt his warm breath tease across my cheeks. It still felt the same. His touch. His presence. The way my body responded to him. Even after all these years, none of that had changed. His touch was still like a drug to my body, yet toxic to my heart.
“If you think for one damn second that I walked away because I wanted to, you can’t be more fucking wrong.”
I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze. “What else am I supposed to think? You fucking left!”
