No Limits

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No Limits Page 10

by Lori Foster


  “—and if you’re staying here, it’s inevitable that you might want to bring home…company.” Just saying it made her stomach sick. “When you do, you should feel comfortable about it.”

  His hands moved up to her face, holding her steady for his uncompromising stare. “Let’s get something clear up front.”

  He had such big hands that he left her feeling tiny. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling, not with Cannon. “Okay.”

  “I don’t want you dragging in other dudes.”

  Wait, what? That was so far from what she’d expected that she went blank.

  He gave a soft growl, kissed her hard and fast and finally freed her to run a hand over his dark hair. “Are you planning to see other guys?”

  Other guys meaning men besides him? “I’m not seeing anyone.”

  His blue eyes went flinty. “We’ll be living together, so you’ll be seeing me.”

  Not the way he implied. “Sharing the same house is not—”

  “Sharing the same bed? We’ll see.”

  Her mouth opened, but no protest emerged.

  “Still.” He chewed the corner of his mouth while forming his reply. “It could be uncomfortable for both of us, don’t you think?”

  With no idea what he meant, she shook her head in confusion.

  “You with someone else, me with someone else. Not cool, right?”

  Shoot, it wasn’t as if she wanted to see him with another woman! “It could be uncomfortable, yes.” His insistence started to wear on her. “But what about Mary?”

  “Forget her.”

  “There will be other women—”

  “Forget them, too.” He drew a slow breath. “I’ve made it as plain as I can, honey. I don’t mind giving you some time, but you need to understand the facts. The only woman I’m interested in right now is you.”

  That was so blatant, so bold, she fell back a step. Elation tried to burst free, but she stomped it into submission and took a stance instead. “Since when?”

  “The truth?” He leaned in close, angling his body down to hers, nose to nose, aggressive and annoyed. “Since you walked out on me three fucking years ago.”

  *

  ARMIE WATCHED AS Cannon and his lady walked into the rec center. Trouble in paradise, he thought, noting the difference in how they both held themselves today.

  Funny.

  Yesterday Cannon had been so territorial that he’d half expected him to start shoving the other guys out the door. Course, that just made Stack and Denver and Miles more interested.

  Grabbing up a towel to mop the sweat from his face, Armie winced. His cheek hurt like a son of a bitch and his swollen lip still smarted. He prodded the cut inside his mouth with his tongue before saying to Denver, “Finish up and then have them spar. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Denver followed the direction of his gaze and grinned. With his long brown hair half out of the tie, he looked more like a barbarian than a good instructor for kids. “Cannon looks a little out of sorts, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” Armie slung the towel around his neck. “Think I’ll see what I can do to tweak his bad mood.”

  “You have a death wish,” Denver said on a laugh before turning back to the youths he instructed, showing them the proper way to kick a heavy bag.

  Stepping off the mats, dressed only in athletic shorts, Armie walked up front to meet his friend.

  Yvette—such a doll—looked at him and grimaced. “Ouch. Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” He glanced at Cannon. “’Bout damn time, man. You’re only four hours late.”

  Rather than reply to the jibe, Cannon looked him over, taking in every bruise. He lifted a brow in query.

  “I’m so sorry.” Yvette raised a dainty hand. “It’s my fault.”

  Ignoring Cannon’s curiosity, Armie turned his attention to her. “What is?”

  “Cannon being late.”

  Trying not to grin, Armie asked, “Yeah, how so?”

  Cannon gave him a shove. “Not what you’re thinking.”

  With his whole body bludgeoned, Armie almost groaned. But never in front of a lady. He sucked it up and laughed at Cannon. “What was I thinking?”

  Cannon glanced at Yvette, and, damn, he looked hungry.

  Okay, so maybe he hadn’t tapped that yet. Poor bastard.

  Either unaware of the undercurrent or adequately pretending, Yvette explained. “I went jogging this morning without realizing that Cannon wanted to talk with me. He waited for me to return and it put us behind.”

  Huh. Armie eyed his friend. “Why didn’t you just jog with her?”

  “She didn’t tell me she was leaving.”

  Yvette flushed, more over being ratted out than from embarrassment. “I didn’t, at that time, realize that we’d be checking in with each other.”

  Oh, man. This was hilarious. “So let me get this straight.”

  Shifting, Cannon said low, “Fuck you, Armie.”

  Unfazed, Armie said, “You and Cannon are…what?”

  Appearing unsure of how to answer, Yvette deferred to Cannon.

  Tight-lipped, Cannon shared with him the brunt of his disgruntlement. “You don’t have enough bruises? Looking to get a few more?”

  “Nope. Idle curiosity, that’s all.”

  Cannon appeared ill at ease, but only for a second. He was not a man who suffered insecurities of any kind. He turned to Yvette. “You want to look around, check out the place? Break room is through that back door. Johns are back there, too. Looks as though Denver is teaching a class. You can watch that for a few minutes if you want. I’ll join you soon.”

  Armie smirked. “Yeah, take in all the sights while Cannon vents his bad mood.”

  She tilted her head, studied each of them and, given her serene smile, must have decided they were joking. “Take your time.”

  Little did she know that fighters often joked with their fists. And seriously, Armie wouldn’t shy away from a little one-on-one practice with Cannon, but he really wasn’t up for it if he could avoid it without losing face.

  Yvette was barely out of hearing distance when Cannon said, “What the hell happened to you?”

  Pretending not to understand, Armie asked, “What?”

  “Someone—maybe a small crowd by the looks of it—beat the shit out of you.”

  Giving up, on at least that small bit, Armie admitted, “There were four of them.”

  Disbelief narrowed Cannon’s eyes. “Only four, huh?”

  “I got blindsided by the first one. Before I realized it, they were on me.”

  “I hope you sent them limping away.”

  “Pretty much.” But not before taking a good dose of punishment, which maybe he’d had coming. “Now let’s talk about you.”

  Cannon shook his head. “I’m not done with you yet.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Who and why?”

  Damn it, he didn’t want to get into this. He couldn’t get into it. “I was snooping, if you have to know.”

  “Snooping where?”

  Near your house. “Let’s just say I suspected a lady was being used by a scumbag prick who isn’t good enough for her.”

  Snorting, Cannon said, “Using, as in the way you use—”

  “Hey, I’m always up front about avoiding monogamy.” Bragging a little, he added, “And we both know the ladies use me in return.”

  Since he couldn’t deny that, Cannon said only, “Go on.”

  “This lady is different.”

  One of Cannon’s brows went up. “Meaning?”

  Yeah, dumbass. Explain that one. Armie took a minute to swab his face again with the towel. “You know what I’m saying.”

  “She’s a nice girl?”

  Real nice. The nicest. Too damn nice to get used. “Something like that.”

  The other brow joined the first as Cannon studied him. “Since when do you concern yourself over nice girls?”

  “Hey, I don’t sleep with them, but doesn’t mean I wan
t them abused.”

  Cannon kept staring at him.

  “What, damn it?”

  “I’m trying to picture you as a white knight, but the image isn’t coming together. Too much rust in the metal.”

  “Fuck you.” Disgruntled over the interruption, Armie huffed. “You want to hear it or not?”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Lying asshole. He was all grins and harassment. “So I was doing some surveillance—”

  “Alone?”

  He worked his jaw. “Interrupt one more time and I swear to God—”

  Cannon gestured for him to continue.

  “I was alone, checking up on things, and I guess the bastard saw me. Only instead of facing me man to man, he sent his buddies after me. One of them hit me in the back of the head hard enough that I fucking saw stars and—”

  Cannon grabbed his ear, using it to twist him so he could investigate.

  “Goddamn it, Cannon.” Flinching, Armie tensed all over. His head still felt like it might fracture into pieces and his temples pulsed. “Lighten up.”

  “Stop whining.” Cannon searched through his hair, pressed, whistled low and let him go. “You sure you don’t have a concussion?”

  “I might after you manhandling me!” Smoothing his hair back over the massive goose egg, Armie grimaced again. “I don’t know what they hit me with, but it left me stunned long enough for them to knock me to the ground.” Amid a bunch of heavy boots and bad intentions.

  “They didn’t kill you,” Cannon said, “so I assume you caught your wind?”

  More like instincts had taken over and he’d done what had to be done to survive. Muscle memory could often be a lifesaver. “Yeah. I kicked out a knee.” That guy would be limping for a good long while. “Nutted the other fuck.”

  “Good for you.”

  “The third nearly stove in my ribs before I caught his foot and got him down on the ground with me.” And then Armie had made him regret the error of his ways.

  Remembering brought him a little satisfaction. He cracked his aching knuckles.

  “Give me some names.”

  Oh, shit, Cannon sounded calmly furious—which boded well for no one. “Let it go. It’s my business.”

  That perked him up. “Personal?” And then with more disbelief, “Over a woman?”

  Armie gave him a dead stare. “Yeah, imagine that.”

  Shaking his head, Cannon said, “Can’t.”

  The antagonism cracked, and Armie ended up laughing. Seriously, he did not get that involved, had no interest in a relationship and avoided nice ladies as though they had thorns. “Yeah, me either. Let’s just say I felt like busting some heads and almost got caught up in more than I could handle.”

  “Four against one sucks.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  Cannon did that damned annoying quiet perusal of his, dragging it out until Armie felt like stomping away.

  Finally he said, “I wouldn’t mind busting some heads, too.”

  Dressed and showered after his workout, headed for the front door, Stack heard Cannon and paused beside them. “Whose heads are we busting?”

  Cannon nodded at Armie. “The ones that did that to him.”

  Snorting, Stack said, “I think it was his last dating duo that put an ass-whooping on him.” With deliberate provocation, he asked Armie, “You tell Cannon about the lady’s whip?”

  “Whip?”

  Armie rolled his eyes. “I already told you that was just a prop.”

  Cannon turned from Armie to Stack. “Let’s hear it.”

  “The night of your fight we had a party here to watch. Armie left with a couple of women who seemed more into each other than him.”

  “Appearances are obviously deceiving,” Armie said with smug satisfaction.

  “The one chick had a whip in her belt.” Stack grinned hugely. “Kinky.”

  “Only seems kinky the first time,” Armie told him, totally deadpan.

  Cannon turned back to Armie. “The two you mentioned?”

  “Yeah, so? They liked it enough they returned for an encore.”

  “You didn’t tell me about the whip.”

  “Because it didn’t mean anything. It was like… I don’t know. Jewelry or something.”

  Stack laughed. “Says the man who’s now beat all to hell and back.”

  Cannon narrowed his eyes. “He says four guys did that to him.”

  Damn it! “Big mouth. Did I say to announce it?” Armie didn’t need his private business spread around.

  Stack whistled low. “No shit? Well, hell, man, if we’re retaliating, count me in.”

  “There you go,” Cannon offered.

  “Four against three? Since when do we gang up on idiots? It’d be a slaughter, and none of us wants that, so forget it.” Searching out Yvette with his gaze, Armie found her in the back, fingers laced together, attention rapt as she listened to Denver explaining something to her. The kids, ranging in age from ten to sixteen, studied her wide-eyed. “Enough about me. What’s wrong with you?”

  As Cannon stared at her, he started breathing deeper. “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, right.” It was all Armie could do not to laugh. “You look like you’re going to jump her bones any second.”

  To Armie’s surprise, Cannon growled, locked his hands together behind his neck and paced off toward the reception desk.

  Wow. Armie and Stack shared a look.

  Knowing Stack was on his way out, Armie said, “I got it.”

  “Go easy on him.”

  “That’s not what he needs.” After Stack nodded and left, Armie went after Cannon. “That bad, huh?”

  “Fucking unreal.”

  Seeing how his friend vibrated with constrained menace, he commiserated. “You did without before the fight, didn’t you?”

  Cannon didn’t have to answer. Armie knew how obsessed he got when prepping for a fight, especially the past few weeks. Despite the urban legend of athletes abstaining, most of the guys he knew never turned down sex. Hell, propositioned by the right woman, he’d be knocking boots the night before, using sex to shake off the jitters that came with a big fight.

  But not Cannon. He was too damn selective from the get-go, and when in training he got downright picky. He turned away far more women than he laid.

  In that, they were total opposites. It took a very rare woman for Armie to deny himself.

  It took an even rarer woman for him to want to defend her honor. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Rather than go down that road and maybe tweak Cannon’s interest again, Armie distracted him. “Thinking that way almost cost Gage the girl.”

  “Harper?”

  “Yeah.” Everyone knew the two of them were an item—though God knew Gage had nearly screwed it up. Armie grinned, remembering. “They were here the night of the fights, too, but they were so busy dancing around each other they missed more than they saw.” He leaned in, eyebrows bobbing. “Gage dragged her off to the office and they didn’t emerge until after your fight had ended. Harper had the look of a well-laid lady, and she agreed to move in with him, so Gage must’ve made us proud.”

  Cannon eased up enough to smile. “Good for them.”

  “Yeah,” Armie agreed, but added, “if you’re into that whole commitment thing.”

  “They are.”

  He agreed again. “Speaking of commitment…” He focused on Yvette. “I think Denver’s going to show her a move.”

  Cannon jerked around so fast, Armie almost got hit with an elbow.

  Apparently uncaring that sweat covered Denver’s chest, Yvette allowed him to maneuver her into a standing rear naked choke. He put one arm under her chin with his hand on his opposite arm above his elbow, his other hand at the back of her head—in the right position to apply pressure.

  Yvette automatically wrapped her hands over the beefy forearm around her neck. “Wow,” Armie said, “I can’t believe she’s—”

  Snarling, Cannon strode off.r />
  “Damn.” Seeing the set of Cannon’s shoulders, Armie chased after him.

  When he reached his side, he said, “You know you’re going to make an ass of yourself, right?”

  Cannon kept walking without replying.

  “Might make an ass of her, too.”

  He turned on Armie so fast, Armie stepped back.

  “Just saying.” He held up his hands. “Denver won’t hurt her—you know that. No reason to go all King Kong and shit.”

  At that precise moment, they both heard Yvette laughing. They looked up to see Denver sprawled dramatically on the ground while Yvette held his fingers twisted.

  “It’s not even a real hold,” Cannon complained.

  Armie couldn’t stop grinning. The kids, all of them needy in one way or another, snickered and elbowed each other and all in all had a good time at the absurd display.

  Denver pretended to be in agony, which was pretty ridiculous given Yvette now barely held his pinky. She, too, kept laughing, her long hair spilling forward, a very sweet ass on display as she bent toward Denver’s supine form.

  One of the boys jumped up, helping to haul Denver back to his feet so he could try the escape. As carefully as he had with Yvette, Denver put the kid in the choke.

  Cannon’s long exhalation brought Armie back around.

  “You, my man, are in a very bad way.”

  “Yeah,” Cannon agreed. “I am.”

  “So go get laid already.”

  It shocked him stupid when Cannon said, “Working on it,” and then with frustration, “but she needs some time.”

  “Why?”

  He rocked a shoulder. “She just lost her grandfather, moved, hasn’t seen me in years.”

  For the women Armie knew, none of that would matter. Sex would be the cure, the relief, the escape, always. But he could tell Yvette was a different kind of lady.

  Different from what he preferred.

  Different to how Cannon felt about her.

  She was the kind Armie avoided. “All right. So give her some time.” At Cannon’s scowl, he asked, “Or is that a problem?”

  “She has some guy who keeps calling her.”

  Competition? Things were getting interesting. “Who?” He’d put his money on Cannon every time.

  “She says her ex.”

  Maybe not so interesting. “He’s around?”

  Shaking his head, Cannon said, “In California.”

 

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