“Do I look okay?” She runs her palms down the front of her dress self-consciously. Typical Raven. An absolute knockout and she has no idea.
“Baby, you’re a vision. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.”
Her eyes look down the length of her body then lock on mine. “Thank you.” She takes a step towards me then freezes mid-step. “Oh, you haven’t seen the back yet.”
The back? There’s no way the back could be better than what I’m looking at right now.
Her eyes sparkle and she gives me a mischievous grin. Slowly, she turns and my breath catches in my throat.
There is no back.
The birds in her tattoo fly in formation from her hip to her shoulder for all to see. Her hair is tied up loosely in an elegant, messy mass of shiny dark locks, giving me an unobstructed view. My eyes travel the expanse to the two dimples visible above her perfect ass. I reach down to adjust myself in my pants. Suddenly my collar isn’t the only thing that’s tight.
Placing her hand on her cocked hip, she looks over her shoulder. “You like?”
“I . . . uh, yeah.” I clear my throat. “I more than l-like. It’s . . . You’re amazing. You l-look.” To save myself from further embarrassment due to my sudden case of stutter-mouth, I shut up.
Stepping to her, I start at her hip and run my finger along the path of her tattoo. Mesmerized by the softness of her skin, I watch tiny goose bumps follow the line of my finger. I press my lips to her shoulder. She drops her head to the side, exposing the full length of her neck. I ghost a kiss against her skin, followed by my tongue. The combination of her sweet taste and pear smell makes me hungry for what’s beneath the dress. My teeth scrape along her sensitive throat, and I bite with gentle pressure. She leans back and a moan bubbles up from her chest, escaping her lips in a purr.
“You are absolutely gorgeous,” I whisper against the spot where I bit her.
“Mmm, thank you.” Her voice has taken on a breathy quality that has me straining against my slacks. “You look very handsome too. I like the black on black. It reminds me of Clark Kent.”
I kiss her neck once more, and pull back. “Clark Kent? He was a dorky news reporter. He wore starched white shirts with bow ties and shit. I think he even sported a pocket protector.”
Giggling, she turns to face me. It’s then that I notice her face. She usually wears minimal makeup, but tonight it’s heavier in all the right places. Her eyes are rimmed with a smoky color that highlights the aquamarine. Her cheeks dusted with pink, and her lips. Holy hell. Those lips.
“Wait, I thought Clark Kent was the hot one.”
I’m focused on her shimmering, pink glossed mouth as she talks.
“You know the one who wears black all the time and drives the cool car?”
“Huh?” I swallow hard, caught up in the sensory overload that Raven is dishing out in buckets.
She places her soft hand against my cheek. “Um . . . Clark Kent?”
Fuck, that’s right. I forgot what we were talking about.
“Bruce Wayne, baby. Batman.”
“Yes! You’re right. Bruce Wayne. He’s the hot one that all the girls—”
I can’t take it anymore and crash my lips against hers. Her blatant sex appeal and childlike innocence does me in. Her lip gloss tastes like marshmallow and her mouth like peppermint. I suck at her lips, and she buries her hands in my hair, holding me to her.
My girl.
I run my hands over the dress, feeling her nipples pucker beneath the fabric. My hands grip at it with impatience, gently tugging, knowing what’s underneath is so much softer. There’s no way we’re going to dinner. Nothing is as important to me in this moment than getting my girl naked underneath me.
“Jonah,” she says breathlessly between kisses.
“Mmm?”
“The door.”
“Hmm?”
“The doorbell’s ringing. Our ride’s here.”
“Don’t give a shit,” I growl and walk her backwards towards my bed.
Her legs hit the bed, stopping our progression. I hold her hips and grind my now painfully hard erection against her. She tilts her head and deepens the kiss. Fuck yeah. My girl, always so ready.
My phone is ringing in my pocket and the doorbell won’t quit. I groan, annoyed, but never give up her mouth. This is happening. Now.
She laughs and presses her palms against my chest. Reluctantly, I pull back.
“Jonah, we need to stop.” Her raspy voice and traveling hands betray her words.
“Not going anymore.” I’m kissing her neck at my spot, hoping she gives up on the idea and gets naked soon.
“It’s a limo, right?” There’s a smile in her question.
I step back to meet her eyes. “Yeah, it’s a limo.” I smile. “Why?”
She shrugs her shoulders and drops her face, her cheeks flushed. I hook my fingers beneath her chin and bring her eyes back to mine, lifting my eyebrows.
Is she thinking what I think she’s thinking?
“I just thought it might be . . . um . . . fun, you know? To make out in a limo?”
My body hums with excitement at the prospect of getting dirty with Raven in the backseat of a chauffeured vehicle.
I grab her hand and lead her to the front door. “Fine. But we’re leaving right after dinner and picking up where we left off.”
“Sounds good to me,” she says through her giggles.
* * * *
“Mr. Slade, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the limo driver says while looking at us from the rearview mirror. “I’ve been following your career for years.”
Ah, shit. I’m presented with the opportunity to shove my hand up Raven’s dress in a moving vehicle, and we get chatty Charles the limo driver.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate your support.”
Raven rubs my thigh with soothing strokes, and I consider moving her hand up six inches. Would Charles even notice? Nah.
“That fight in ’07 against Hollander was incredible. How long had you been with the UFL when you fought him?”
I groan and curse the fact that I represent more than myself at times like these, but also my training team and the UFL. “Four ye—”
“Four years! That’s how many. And three years before that you were undefeated against Santoro!” He slaps his steering wheel, his booming laughter filling the length of the car.
“Yeah, look we were hoping for a little private time to talk about some things. Do you think we could put up the privacy wall, so—”
“My cousin Junior is training with an MMA fighting league in San Antonio. He’s been . . .”
Charles goes on and on, but my focus is on my girl whose face is bright red from holding back laughter. Hardy fucking har har.
I decide I’ve heard enough from Charles and tell him we’ll continue after the dinner, but that I need some fucking alone time with my date. Shit.
Privacy window up and finally alone, I’m assaulted by her smell. I practically attack her, not that she’s complaining. I almost get my hand up her dress when the limo lurches to a stop. Shit!
I tell Charles we need five minutes. Raven checks her face in a mirror, and I think about everything except what I’ll be doing to her later tonight. Great, now I’m thinking about it again.
“You about done? If I don’t get out of here soon, I’ll finish what I started.”
She gives me a sexy smile and tucks a couple loose strands of hair back into place. “I’m ready.”
I laugh, shaking my head at her mixed message reply.
We exit the limo, and holding hands, we walk through Mandalay Bay Hotel’s casino to the elevators. Raven fidgets at my side as photographers snap pictures and people start to gather.
“You look gorgeous, baby.” I try to take her mind off being the center of attention to a bunch of strangers. She blushes and holds my hand tighter.
This dinner is held on the sixty-fourth floor of the hotel in a swanky restaurant called Mix
. As soon as we exit the elevator, we’re greeted by an older gentleman in a tuxedo.
“Ah, Mr. Slade. Your party is expecting you. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you and Miss . . .”
Her hand locks mine in a death grip.
“Raven,” I say.
“Of course, Mr. Slade. Miss Raven. Please follow me.”
Releasing her firm grip, she leans into my shoulder. “Thank you.” Her whispered words are only for my ears.
I lift her hand, kiss her knuckles, and give her a wink. She never tells people her last name, afraid of being associated with Dominick. His name circulates among the richest of Vegas’s philanderers. And a high-end place like this is bound to be familiar with the name if not the man himself.
We’re led into a private dining room in the back of the restaurant. It’s packed with roughly thirty people from the organization. I feel Raven’s hesitation as we step into the crowd. I spot Owen and Nikki across the room and decide to stick close to them so that Raven will have someone to talk to.
Different people greet me with handshakes and hellos, but all their eyes are on my girl. This is going to be a long fucking night.
Twenty-four
Raven
I’m at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, I arrived by limo, and I’m wearing an outfit that cost more than I make in a month, bought for me by my rich boyfriend.
I’m Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.
How appropriate.
No, Cinderella. I’m Cinderella out with my Prince Charming. Although, I’m pretty sure my Prince Charming would kick the real Prince Charming’s butt in a fistfight. And now my nerves are setting up imaginary fights between cartoon characters.
Well, at least it’s taking my mind off the fact that I’m totally out of my element. I may as well have written I don’t belong on my forehead in black eyeliner. Everyone here is either rich, famous, influential, or a combination of all three. I need to pull it together.
I jump as Jonah places his hand on my back. I look up to see a tall man with sandy blond hair and blue eyes eyeing me.
“Raven, this is Taylor Gibbs, the owner of the UFL.”
I gather my social graces. I’ve never seen so many high-powered people in one room. The place is practically vibrating with egos and money.
“Mr. Gibbs, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for having me.”
“Raven, it’s a pleasure.”
He reaches out to shake the hand I’ve extended. Jonah tenses and pulls me closer to him, tucking me deep into his side. Mr. Gibbs brings my offered hand to his mouth, kissing it softly.
I press deeper into Jonah at the gesture. No one’s touch feels welcome, except Jonah’s. To keep from embarrassing him in front of his boss, I put on a brave face.
“I’m glad you could make it, Raven.” His glare zeros in on Jonah and a whisper of tension charges the air between them.
My eyes dart back and forth between the two.
Jonah’s brooding is directed at his boss. Mr. Gibbs smirks at me and releases my hand. I bring it immediately to Jonah’s abdomen, hoping that the touch will help shake the creepy from my hand.
Mr. Gibbs starts in with Jonah about who he needs to touch base with at the party when a man walks up behind him. He’s as big as Jonah in height and width, but where Jonah’s ferocity is inviting, this man’s is terrifying. He has dark hair and eyes that look almost black. His face is held in a permanent scowl with a scar over his left eye and one at his chin. He stalks toward us with the grace of a rhino.
“Well, if it isn’t my own personal punching bag,” he says, glaring at Jonah.
Jonah’s grip tightens. “Del Toro. I thought they only allowed civilized people into this place. Not knuckle-dragging chimps like you.”
Mr. Gibbs moves between the fighters. “Save it for the octagon, guys. No need to make a scene in front of the lovely Raven.”
Del Toro’s eyes swing to me and his head tilts to the side. He studies my face and a small smile tips his lips. His expression is animalistic, but not a chimp like Jonah chided. He looks more like a hungry lion.
Now I know what it feels like to be a zebra on the Serengeti.
“Raven, when you get bored with this loser, I’ll show you how a champion does it.” He steps forward, causing Mr. Gibbs to use his shoulder to keep him back.
Jonah growls so deeply that I feel it before I hear it. His eyes fix on Del Toro in the death stare to end all death stares. “You fucking talk to her again I’ll put you in a coma right here.”
Energy from years of animosity rolls off of them in waves. Jonah’s jaw is tense, his icy glare fixed, and his fists balled at his sides. He’s about to lose it. I can’t let that happen.
I put on my sweetest smile and step in front of Jonah, placing myself directly between two of the biggest men I’ve ever seen. “You must be Victor Del Toro. Jonah’s told me all about you. Six years as the Heavyweight Champion.” I whistle through my teeth. “That’s impressive.”
Blinking, Del Toro takes his eyes from a seething Jonah and sets them on me. His face visibly relaxes, but not by much.
“Yeah, it’s impressive, and I don’t plan on giving up the title anytime soon.”
“No, of course not.” I bat at him with a girlie giggle that’s so sweet it makes Del Toro smile. Great. It’s working. “About your offer, I can promise you I’ll never get bored with Jonah. But thank you for the compliment.”
“You let me know if you change your mind, sweetheart.” He glares at Jonah one last time and walks away.
There’s a collective sigh of relief from two of the three people left. Jonah’s still seething, but at least his fists are no longer clenched.
“Wow, you have a gift. I’ve never seen anyone who can talk down testosterone-fueled fighters that quickly. Must be those eyes.” Mr. Gibbs winks at me before excusing himself.
Once he’s gone, I turn to a still-frozen Jonah. Pressing my body to the length of his, I slide my hands around his neck. His eyes are unfocused, clinging to the edge of self-control.
“Hey. You okay?”
He makes a sound that’s half grunt half groan. Hm. Not okay. I need to try a different tactic.
I press my breasts against his chest and kiss his chin. This gets me his eyes. Progress.
Making my way from there, I brush my lips against his jaw line slowly, allowing him to feel my breath on his face. His arms wrap around my waist, and his thumbs rub circles on the exposed skin at my back. Now we’re getting somewhere.
I kiss below his ear. “You okay?”
“Better.”
I lean away, but keep my hands locked behind his neck. “That was intense.”
“I want to beat that guy’s ass. I swear, Raven, I don’t regret making that deal with Dominick. I’d do it a million times over,” he whispers. “But, I’m really, really looking forward to beating the shit out of that asshole when I get another opportunity.”
I try to comfort him with a smile, but it feels off. My chest aches. Guilt wars with gratitude. How can I do this to him? How can I not?
This must be torture: all this talk about being the next Heavyweight Champion, his undefeated record, and Del Toro antagonizing him. Instead of going out there on fight night, doing what comes naturally, he has to play possum.
I’m grateful for his sacrifice, but I didn’t anticipate how much he would suffer. Turn his back on his instincts. Push down his nature. All for me.
I pull away and he releases me from his hold. His eyes roam the room casually, unaware of the internal struggle his words induced.
My lungs are tight. I can’t breathe. The weight of all that’s happened presses in from all angles. I turn to a nearby table and lean heavy against the chair. I knew what he was giving up on a hypothetical level, but seeing it with my own eyes, feeling the aggression electrifying the space between them, just made this real.
A group of people walk up to us, but I’m so lost in my head I don’t pay attention. My mind whirls with ex
cuses to get out of here. Bathroom. I’ll just run to the bathroom, gather myself and—What the hell?
A gorgeous blonde in a skin-tight, bright red dress is standing way to close to Jonah. I watch in horror as the beauty queen wraps her arms around his neck. In sickening slow motion, she presses an open mouth kiss right on his lips.
Fuck that!
Adrenaline floods my veins.
“Hey!” My body moves before I think better of it and I’m right in her face.
Jonah’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Get your hands off my boyfriend.”
She looks me up and down before pressing her body closer to his. Jonah takes a step to the side, but she winds her arms around his waist, sticking to him like a Siamese twin. “And if I don’t? What are you going to do about it?”
Even her glare is pretty.
“Step away. Now.” My voice shakes, but I stand tall.
Jonah gives her arms a final tug and she releases her hold.
She steps into my space. With her slutty shoes, she’s a good six inches taller than me. Her strapless dress reveals cut muscles that are coiled and ready. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“No. Don’t care. But if you touch my boyfriend again, you’re going to find out who I am.”
An evil glint touches her crystal blue eyes. “I’m Camille Fisher. I fight for a living. You want to go there. Let’s go there.”
I’m sick and tired of people messing with me. She may be strong and trained, but I’m fed up and pushed past my limit.
I get right in her face and give her a smile that is most likely all teeth. “I’m Raven, Jonah’s girlfriend. And I’m a mechanic.”
She tosses her head back, her blond hair cascading around her shoulders, and laughs. “Mechanic. Scary.” She says the last word in a sing-song voice and rolls her eyes. Her body closes in.
1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Fourteen Page 81
