by Julia Sykes
In the second I spent trying to process the pain radiating through my side, his foot lashed out, catching me hard in the stomach. I’d been so distracted by the agony in my chest that I forgot to tighten my abs. I dropped to the mat, my insides writhing as I gasped for air.
Trent crouched at my side. “You think you’re hot shit,” he hissed. “You think you’re too good for me. This is a warning. Don’t fuck with me again.”
I could barely breathe, but rage slammed into me, giving me impossible strength. I rolled up onto the balls of my feet and launched myself at him. My fist caught him squarely in the jaw. His head snapped back, and he went down with a curse. I leapt up and brought my foot down on his exposed throat, applying threatening pressure.
“Stay down,” I rasped, barely managing to gasp enough air to formulate the words. “Stay down until I leave the gym, or I swear I’ll break your face. This is my warning. Come near me again, and I’ll do much worse.”
“Fuck you,” he choked out, seething.
“You wish,” I replied coldly, increasing the pressure on his throat incrementally. “Now, stay down.”
I eased up and backed away. He glowered at me, but he didn’t get up. Satisfied that he wouldn’t come at me again, I turned and walked away as casually as I could manage. Every breath sent pain knifing through my ribs, but I refused to show weakness. Head held high, I passed the guy lifting weights and the women on treadmills. None of them seemed to have noticed the brutal exchange that had taken place behind them.
Good. I didn’t want anyone reporting me for getting in a fight.
Briefly, I considered reporting Trent, but I quickly decided against it. I didn’t need to go running to my instructors for help. He was arrogant and incompetent. It would be so much more satisfactory to see him get kicked out for being unfit to be an agent. Besides, I didn’t want to be rescued by my superiors. I was perfectly capable of protecting myself.
The weekend passed, but by Monday, my aching body told me I might not be as capable of protecting myself as I’d thought. Ugly bruises marred my stomach and left side. They looked worse than they felt, but the few days since I’d been injured hadn’t been enough time to fully heal, and I was still sore when it came time for Jason’s class. My movements weren’t a fluid as they should be, and Nate noticed.
“You okay?” he asked kindly.
“I just pushed myself a little too hard last week,” I said, not entirely lying. “I’m really sore.”
“I’ll go easy on you.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t want to shirk the lesson, but I was grateful for a reprieve.
We slowed, moving at half the speed of the rest of the sparring pairs.
“What’s going on here?” Jason demanded when he came to observe us. “Your opponents aren’t going to come at you in slow motion. Pick up the pace.”
“Yes, sir.” Nate immediately complied, moving far too fast. He landed a hit directly on my abs, and although I managed to tighten my muscles, the blow against the tender bruise hurt. I gasped and stumbled back, landing on my ass.
Nate’s face softened with concern. “Sorry, Natalie. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”
“You didn’t,” I reassured him. “I’m just sore.”
“Natalie.” Jason’s voice held a warning edge. “I want to see you in my office after class.”
“Why?” I asked, nervousness making my stomach turn. “Did I do something wrong?”
A dark brow rose. “Are you questioning me, recruit?”
I shook my head quickly. “No. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be there.”
He nodded sharply. “You’re going to sit out the rest of the session. Cross,” he turned his attention to Nate, “you’ll work with me.”
“What?” I burst out. “Why?”
His bright green eyes turned glacial. “I warned you about questioning me. We will discuss your infraction in my office.”
My stomach dropped. Infraction? I didn’t understand what I’d done wrong, but I didn’t dare to ask.
“You’re dismissed, Simmons,” Jason said. His clipped tone and use of my surname stung, but I scurried away, thoroughly chastised.
I hurried toward the locker room to shower and change, trying not to look at my fellow recruits as I made my walk of shame. But a low chuckle and cruel feminine laugh caught my attention. I glanced over just long enough to catch Trent and Elena smirking at me before I tore my gaze away and redoubled my pace. Not even the sight of the dark bruise on Trent’s jaw buoyed my spirits. He wasn’t getting kicked out of class.
Once I was in the privacy of the shower, hot tears of shame rolled down my face, mingling with the warm water.
Jason had humiliated me in front of everyone. And now I had to face him in private. I feared to discover what infraction he thought I’d committed, and I chewed my lip as potential consequences ran through my mind. Was it severe enough to cost me my place at the academy? Did he think I wasn’t strong enough to handle the rigors of Quantico?
If that were the case, I would just have to prove him wrong. I certainly couldn’t tell him that Trent had gotten the upper hand in a fight, because that would just demonstrate weakness. I had to show him that I was fit enough to be here, that I would make an excellent agent. Whatever weakness he saw in me, I’d have to convince him I was capable of overcoming it. I’d do whatever it took to maintain my place here. I wouldn’t allow Trent McMahon to be the reason I didn’t graduate.
Chapter 8
Jason
Natalie had lied to me. She might have Nathaniel Cross fooled, but he didn’t know her intimately like I did. The way she cut her eyes away and the slight flush in her cheeks betrayed her. There was more going on here than simply being sore from training. Natalie was tough, and she wouldn’t have reacted like that for a light hit unless something was wrong.
The thought of her in pain made my gut twist. Protective instincts raged to the fore. All I wanted to do was hold her and keep her safe from any harm.
This isn’t rational, a little voice told me. She was a recruit at Quantico. Pain was part of the process. And once she started her job as a field agent, her life would be on the line on a regular basis.
The prospect made my concern heat to anger. Not at her, but at the faceless people who might hurt her.
She’s not some simpering submissive you met at a club, I reminded myself. She earned her place here.
But I knew how sweet and soft she was at her core, and the thought of anyone damaging that vulnerable, perfect woman made my heart squeeze.
I rounded the corner to find Natalie already waiting for me outside my locked office. She certainly didn’t appear at all vulnerable now. Fierce, determined. And maybe even a little angry. Her full lips were pressed to a flat line, and her delicate chin was lifted in defiance.
Her posture awoke the darker urges that I couldn’t seem to suppress when faced with her fire. Drawing myself up to my full height, I prowled the rest of the short distance between us. Something flickered in her deep blue eyes, and she shifted on her feet.
Fuck. She was so damn responsive when I turned my Dominant nature on her. Why did she have to be so perfect? All I wanted to do was trap her against the wall and take her mouth with mine, kissing her hard until she trembled in my arms and whimpered for the release only I could give her.
I tore my gaze from her and unlocked my office door, careful not to allow my body to brush against hers as I entered.
“Come,” I commanded her to follow me, my tone clipped from the strain of controlling my carnal urges.
She straightened her shoulders and strode into the small space I’d been assigned for the duration of my time a Quantico. It was little more than a broom closet with a desk, but I didn’t really need an office, anyway. But now, I was grateful to have a private space where I could speak to Natalie without suspicions being raised.
I closed the door behind her with a sharp snap, and she jolted at the sound.
Good. I wanted to rattle
her a little. She was putting on a brave front and was obviously determined to lie to me about her condition. I wouldn’t allow it.
“Why did you kick me out of class?” she asked, her voice hard with anger despite her physical hints of trepidation.
“Because you lied to me,” I told her coolly.
“No, I didn’t,” she insisted hotly. “I’m sore. I’ve pushed myself a little too hard. That’s my problem, and I’m dealing with it. You can’t just humiliate me in front of everyone because I worked out too much over the last few days. I’m training hard because I want to be the best. I’ll dial it back a little bit until I adjust. I’m perfectly fit for class.”
“You’re not,” I told her, implacable. “You’re hurt. If you’ve pushed yourself so hard that a light hit causes you pain, you’re not training responsibly. If you’ve torn a muscle, I’m not going to allow you to push through the pain and cause permanent damage just because you think you have something to prove.”
“Of course I have something to prove!” she burst out. “I have to prove that I’m tough enough to be an FBI agent. That means dealing with a little pain sometimes, doesn’t it? I’ll adjust, and I’ll heal up in no time. It’s not a big deal.”
“Let me see.”
“What?”
“Lift your shirt and let me take a look.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re not a doctor.”
“No, but I’ve pushed my body to the limits often enough that I know how to look for serious damage. If you really are fine, you can go back to your classes. If not, you’ll sit out of tactical training until you heal.”
“You can’t do that to me!” she insisted. “I won’t graduate if I don’t keep up with everyone else.”
“You will. I’ll make sure you do. I’ll help you catch up. I’m not trying to end your career. But I won’t allow you to injure yourself more than you already have.” I reached for the hem of her t-shirt. “Now, show me.”
She knocked my hands away, shaking her head wildly. “No.”
Was that real fear in her lovely eyes?
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” I said, my voice roughening. “If this is about what happened in the showers, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have forced myself on you.” Describing it like that left ashes on my tongue, but it occurred to me that perhaps she wasn’t as willing as I’d thought when I’d followed her into the shower.
“You didn’t force yourself on me,” she said quickly, dousing my mounting disgust. “I… I didn’t say no.”
I fixed her with a level stare. “But did you want to?”
She licked her lips, and my cock jerked to life. “No,” she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I didn’t want you to stop.”
Unable to help myself, I took a step closer. “And what about now? Do you want me to stop?”
“Jason…” she trailed off. I couldn’t tell if my name was a plea for me to stop or to continue.
Selfish bastard that I was, I chose to interpret it as the latter. I took another step toward her. She didn’t back away. Her head tilted, offering up her lush lips for my use. Her gorgeous eyes darkened to a deep, soft navy blue.
The last time I’d kissed her, it had been harsh, unrefined. I’d claimed her mouth in a frenzy of lust, subjugating her fiery spirit with ruthless strokes of my tongue.
This was different. She was in a precarious state, on the edge of submission. I could sense her desire, but also her trepidation. Now wasn’t the time to take her forcefully; it was the time for slow, deliberate seduction.
I lowered my mouth to hers, barely brushing her lips with mine. She arched up to meet me, craving more contact. My fist tangled in her hair, tugging her back so I could continue my teasing kiss. The softness of my mouth would contrast with my harsh hold on her hair, inflicting pleasure while giving her a bite of pain. She reacted beautifully, her lips parting on a low moan as she melted against me.
I wanted to lose myself in her, to deepen the kiss and claim her mouth. But I was mindful of my purpose, and my free hand grasped the hem of her shirt, sliding it up her torso. I broke the kiss so I could examine her.
Ugly black bruises marred her perfect skin, marking her left side and stomach with the aftermath of violence. A snarl slipped through my clenched teeth, and she jolted. She glanced down in the direction of my gaze and gasped, quickly grasping for the hem of her shirt so she could cover herself.
My fingers threaded into her hair at either side of her head, applying firm pressure as I tugged. She had no choice but to look up into my eyes as I questioned her.
“Who did this?” I demanded, my voice little more than a furious hiss.
“It’s nothing,” she said shakily.
I tugged more sharply, lighting up her scalp with awareness of my grip on her hair. “It’s not nothing. Who. Did. This?” I bit out each word, the question dripping with menace. I had to know who’d dared to hurt her so I could hunt them down and break them. I’d thought she’d injured herself by working too hard, but this was something else entirely. Someone had put their hands on her, with cruel intent.
“I handled it,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”
I handled it. I thought of the other injured recruit I’d seen today, his jaw bruised.
“McMahon,” I ground out his name. “Did he try to touch you again?”
She glowered up at me. “I have this handled, Jason. I don’t need you to rescue me.”
Maybe not, but I need to punish him. I kept the words locked behind clenched teeth. I’d get a confession out of her, and then I’d go after McMahon.
The harsh set of her jaw let me know she wouldn’t give her confession so easily.
Too bad for her, I knew how to draw out her submission. Keeping my grip on her silken hair, I brought my lips down on hers in a demanding kiss. I didn’t coax her this time; I commanded her compliance, catching her lower lip between my teeth. She opened on a gasp, and my tongue surged in. Hers tangled with mine, defiant. I growled into her mouth and slid one hand out of her hair so I could roughly cup her pussy in a possessive hold. My fingers curved into her cleft through her soft gym shorts, and my palm ground against her clit. She went utterly still in my harsh hold, panting into my mouth as she sucked in short, shallow breaths.
Tightening my grip on her pussy, I guided her forward, moving her with me as I stepped back toward the desk. In a few shaky steps, I had her positioned where I wanted her. I kept one hand in her hair and the other on her sex even as I moved so I was beside her rather than pressed against her front. Using my grip on her hair, I slowly tugged down. She began to bend at the waist, her hips kept in place by my hold on her pussy.
“Brace your hands on the desk,” I ordered.
She complied immediately, pressing her palms against the polished wood as I brought her torso parallel with the floor. Her back was arched, her ass thrust upward and locked in place by my firm hold on her sex.
“Usually, I’d prefer to have you over my lap for this,” I told her. “But considering your bruises, this will have to do.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice small. She was feeling particularly vulnerable in this position, as she should.
“I’m going to spank you, Natalie.”
“What?” She sounded more alarmed when she questioned me this time, and she tried to squirm away. But I firmed my hold on her, my fingers tightening in her hair and tugging her head back while I ground my palm against her clit.
“Calm,” I ordered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You just said you’re going to spank me!” she protested, but she didn’t struggle any more.
“Yes, I’m going to discipline you.” My cock turned rock hard as I said it. I’d dominated her body before, but I’d never spanked her perfect ass. I knew from her previous reactions to light erotic pain that she would handle this well. “But I won’t harm you,” I promised.
She started trembling. My balls ached.
“If it’s so crazy, then why can I feel you getting wet through your shorts?” I asked calmly, finding the heady sense of power that came with dominating Natalie.
“Jason…” She couldn’t seem to find any words other than my name, and I was no longer certain if the whine in her voice was one of protest.
I decided to test her. Keeping my hold on her pussy, I released her hair and delivered the first light slap against her ass. Through her shorts, she’d barely feel the sting, but the first taste of my discipline shocked her. She let out a startled yelp, which quickly lowered to a moan when I continued to stimulate her clit.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked in a ragged whisper.
“I’m taking care of you,” I informed her. “You need to tell me who hurt you so I can take the appropriate action to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’m disciplining you for lying to me about your injury and for not telling me who’s responsible. I can’t help you if you keep secrets from me.”
“I told you I don’t need you to rescue me,” she said, but the assertion was weaker this time.
I petted her ass, soothing. “I know you don’t. But I’m going to, just the same.”
I slipped my hands beneath the elasticized bands at the top of her shorts and panties, pushing them down her upper thighs so her ass was exposed. One cheek was already light pink from my first slap. I intended for both to be a rosy red by the time I finished.
I resumed my position at her pussy, two fingers easing through her slick folds to thrust deep inside her as my palm connected with her clit again. She let out a strangled groan as I stretched her. She was just as hot and tight as I remembered, and my cock ached to replace my fingers.
But I had more self-control than that. With Natalie’s wellbeing in my hands, it took little effort to master my base desire to fuck her over my desk. I found the sense of personal power I’d only known with her since I’d gotten clean. The rush was pure pleasure, far better than any drug running through my veins.
