Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1)

by Carolyn Anthony

  He chuckled. “Nope. Nice try, though.” In one quick move, he had me up over his shoulder like a bushel of hay, stalking out of the weight room.

  I bit back a scream and the urge to pound on his back. “What are you doing? Where the hell are we going?”

  “Cardio.”

  I pushed up on his back and slid my legs around his waist, forcing him to hold me in front of him. The giggles and gasps going on around us didn’t faze me—our friends were used to us.

  “Since when do you skip lifting and go straight to cardio?” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

  “Today.”

  “Ugh!” I tugged at his ponytail. “Jaxxon, speak! Use your words. And you just passed all the cardio equipment.”

  As he walked by the front desk, with both me and my bag wrapped around him, he kissed me hard on the mouth, turning to push the door open with his ass. “For the cardio I have in mind, you’re not gonna want an audience. ‘Antsy’, my fuckin’ ass.”

  I leaned back a little. “So, let me get this straight . . . ” Now that we were outside the gym, I tightened my legs around his waist and hugged him around the neck, putting our faces inches apart. “ . . . You drove all the way here to lecture me, embarrass me, and carry me off to have more sex? Is this an ego thing because I said I was antsy? I didn’t mean you. I meant the test.”

  “My ego’s rock solid, sugar, because I’m pretty fuckin’ sure it was my name you were screaming the three times you came last night.”

  Damn him and his filthy mouth. To my utter horror, I’d quickly discovered it turned me on. I’d become shameless. “You know, Mickey told Rocky sex weakens legs before a fight.”

  He laughed, his chest rumbling against mine, making my nipples hard. “All bullshit. If you have enough energy to put up six plates, you just shot old Mick’s theory straight to hell.”

  “Aren’t you working today?” He always worked on Fridays.

  “Nope,” he said, as we neared his truck. “I took today off. I’m taking you home.” His lips touched my ear. “I’m going to fuck you until you feel that burn you claim to need, and then take you to breakfast. We need those macros up, and you need to eat more than fruit and salads today. Then you’re going home, get your massage, get to work, and take a nap before Kovov. I have the kids tonight and tomorrow, so I won’t be tempted to keep you up.”

  When we reached his truck, he slid me down his body and unlocked the doors.

  I reached up and pulled his face down to mine, sliding my lips over his and slipping my tongue inside. He dropped my bag to the ground and lifted me, wedging a knee between my legs to keep me balanced between him and the truck door.

  Wrapping my pony-tail around his hand, he tilted my head and deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue against mine. I grumbled when he kissed me hard once more before pulling away. “Promise you’ll do everything I said today?”

  I scowled at him. “Blackmail? You’re not the boss of me, Mr. Controlling.”

  He leaned down until he was eye-level with me. “I’m not the one testing. If you don’t promise to do everything I laid out, I’ll throw you in the back of this truck, right here in the parking lot, and make you scream so loud they’ll hear you inside. Now is that something you’d want Terry or Martha to experience?”

  “Nope.” I nodded once. “To the letter. You have my word.”

  He opened my door and lifted me inside. “That’s what I thought.”

  I shook my head and glanced up at the roof of the cab. “Oh yes, because you were being so very thoughtful interrupting my workout when you could have just lifted with me.”

  He stopped the door before he closed it and wrenched my legs to the side, pushing me back on his seat and caging my legs between his hands. “Sorry, was that sarcasm?”

  My giggle turned into a full-blown laugh until I felt his fingers under my workout pants and inside my thong. Humorous turned hot in seconds as he ran his thumb through my wet slit and over my clit until I couldn’t fight the moan that slipped from my lips.

  He pulled his hand out quick, leaving me aching for him. “Oh, I am thoughtful, because I’m about two seconds away from ripping these cock-blocking workout pants off and fucking you right here. Any more snarky comments, Sparky?”

  I wiggled my pants back into place and peeked over the dashboard of the truck, checking the parking lot. “Jaxx. I swear, if anybody saw you—hell! There will be hell to pay!” I was more irritated with myself than him, because if he’d pushed it, I might have lost the ability to say no to him. If he touched me or changed his tone, I’d immediately caved. And the cocky shit knew it.

  Bending over, he kissed my nose. “Give me some credit, baby. Why do you think I parked so far away?”

  “You planned this!” I laughed, buckling my seatbelt.

  “What?” He threw me an innocent look and slammed the door.

  I couldn’t stop my smile. Yeah, I wanted him right here, right now. I loved how playful he was with me, with sex, with everything. I’d never had more fun or enjoyed life more than I did with him.

  He got in the truck and started the engine, glancing over at me. “Uncomfortable, sugar?”

  “Shut up and drive, and it better be the fastest ten minutes ever.” I crossed my arms and glared at him.

  “Ten minutes? Fuck, maybe the way you drive. I’ll be there in five. Start getting undressed.”

  48

  Valentina

  Besides Jaxxon, Instructor Kovov was the second person to get a version of my attack—an edited version, just the facts. In order to get him to let me test, I’d told him I’d figured out the catalyst for the hesitation. Hence, tonight’s pre-test. It wasn’t necessarily a test, more a psychological assessment on Kovov’s part.

  During the exam, he’d be one of the instructors testing us, but I’d been training with him so long he wanted confirmation in case one of the other instructors ended up with me tomorrow. An instructor I’d never worked with before might miss the hesitation. Kovov wouldn’t.

  Walking in front of me, he rested his hands on my shoulders. “Relax. Eyes open and center.”

  With a small squeeze, he left me alone in the center of the mat. The studio lights dimmed, and the streetlights outside cast a dull glow throughout the studio. The click of the switch completely killed all the lights in a space I’d felt comfortable in for years. That tiny sound echoed through my head, shooting a tremor through my upper body and lodging deep in my stomach. An eerie spider legs sensation crept across my skin, turning familiar into foreign.

  I closed my eyes for a brief second, recalling Jaxxon’s last words to me.

  Motherfucker’s dead, baby. He can’t hurt you anymore. Do what you do, Valentina.

  “Eyes open,” Kovov snapped. “Breathe.”

  I finally lifted my eyelids and focused on the small tool shed outside our front window, shutting out everything else around me, tuning into my body, my surroundings, letting my eyes adapt to the dark. The muted sound of the wind whispering through the slight gap at the bottom of the front door faded. Far off horns and the highway merged into a mashed up cacophony before disappearing. One by one, I eliminated sounds from the outside world until all I heard were Kovov’s bare feet on hardwood floors behind me. Then they too joined the silence.

  “Drill,” he snapped.

  I took deep breaths and went through my warm-up drills, every muscle in my body tense and alert.

  He’d know how to come at me to inspire the most fear—I’d had to give him the psychological edge.

  “Again,” he insisted, when I finished the first rotation.

  He’d walked around behind me, in front of me, drilled with me, for so long, the tension worked its way out and I was no longer aware of where he was.

  Sweat poured down the sides of my face and I fell into the headspace where I was in sync with every muscle in my body, my blood rushing, and the rhythmic beating of my heart.

  The second I stopped to catch my breath, relaxed in my s
urroundings, an ironclad arm locked around my neck, jerking me off my feet. I threw my head back, but he moved at the last second. When my toes grazed the mat, I lifted my legs and let all my body weight drop until I got two feet on the ground. As soon as I felt the mat, I stomped down on his left foot, but didn’t break his hold. That was the beauty of Krav Maga—anything goes.

  Again, I crushed my heel into his other foot. I pushed my hips out to the side, and jammed an elbow into his ribs.

  As soon as his grip loosened, he bent at the hips. I spun in his arms and brought my knee up into his groin. When he doubled over further, I fisted the back of his shirt in both hands for leverage and kneed him in the chest over and over, never letting go of my grip, ensuring the impact would do the most damage.

  The second he became unsteady, I jerked away enough to throw a shoulder into his gut. As he staggered, I grabbed his arm, twisted, and hurled him to the ground beside me. I landed with a knee in his sternum and my hand pushing the side of his face against the mat.

  Gasping for air, I jumped off my instructor and bowed.

  “Well done.” He got up as if I hadn’t just hit and kicked him way harder than I would in testing tomorrow, but he was Kovov—unbreakable. He stood in the graceful way I always admired about him and nodded to me. “You can test tomorrow.”

  I smiled so wide my face hurt.

  Instructor Kovov locked the door and we walked out of the studio together. “Toni,” he called out to me before I got in my car. “Sharing your past with me took courage.”

  “Thank you, sir, but why did you take so long?” I laughed, looking at my watch. He’d let me drill for about forty minutes before he touched me.

  “You had to forget you were being evaluated. In real life, attacks can come when you’re comfortable, vulnerable, day or night. They can come from anywhere at any time. You knew why we were here. Rely on your instinct tomorrow. Drive safe.”

  Before he got to his car, I jogged over to him. “Instructor Kovov.”

  He turned to look down at me.

  “Thank you. Thank you for not giving up. I think any other instructor would have.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I never doubted you . . . you did. See you tomorrow.”

  I ran back to my car, jumped in, and dumped my purse on to the passenger seat, looking for my damn phone. I started the engine and texted Jaxxon, not wanting to bother him with a phone call when he had the kids.

  One down. One to go. Thank you! Have fun with the kids tonight. Love you.

  As I backed out, his text tone went off and I slammed on the brakes to check it.

  If you can kick my ass, Kovov didn’t stand a chance. CALL me tomorrow after the test. None of this texting shit. I’m fucking serious. Love you too.

  Driving out of the studio parking lot, I made a mental reminder to text Dad and Mom, Terry, Annie, and Martha when I got home.

  It was a cool night, so I opened all the windows, cranked the volume on In This Moment’s, “River of Fire,” and let the wind flow through the car, cooling my overheated skin. The smell of the ocean surrounded me and I smiled, happy where I was at this point in my life.

  More than that. I was happy with me, who I was, for the first time in my life.

  49

  Jaxxon

  Crack! Son-of-a-bitch, did Bray just smack the shit out of that ball!

  I was on my feet like all those other goofy fathers I swore I’d never turn into, beside Leah, my sisters, my nieces, and my nephews, screaming at my kid to run his ass off. Fuck me if that ball didn’t keep going until it disappeared over the fence. It was Bray’s fifteenth home run of the season, and we weren’t even halfway through.

  The bleachers went nuts, we all high-fived like a bunch of fucking goons, and I took a second to glance down at Jessa sitting on the bottom bleachers with her little friends, unmoved by the commotion. I might have caught a solid eye roll. I couldn’t help the worry that crept into the center of my chest. I was proud of my son and a little worried about my daughter.

  As we sat back down, Leah leaned over to me. “She doesn’t like softball, Jaxx. It’s not her thing.”

  “I didn’t put her in it. That was your call. She’ll be fine.”

  “When? When will she ‘be fine’?” Leah insisted. “No. I’m pulling her out. Let her do something else.”

  “However long it takes. Don’t push her, and you’re not pulling her out. Did she say she wants to quit?”

  Leah turned her head to me. “No, but if I want to take her out, Jaxx, I will take her out.”

  Now that got her my full attention. “No. You won’t. She started it. She doesn’t hate it. She’ll finish the season, and then decide if she wants to go back or not. Pulling her out mid-season is a chicken shit move for the rest of her team, and says it’s okay to bail when shit gets hard. You’re not pulling her, Leah. And since when do you green light her quitting anything?”

  Leah jerked her head back to glare at me. “I want her to do something she loves. And you’re the pushover when it comes to Jessa. You always have been. Why the hardline now?”

  I wasn’t getting into it with my ex in the bleachers, especially with my crazy-ass sisters within earshot. “She finishes what she starts. You going hard-ass on her finding something else won’t help. Give her space. She’ll figure it out on her own.”

  She put both hands up, conceding the point, and turned back to the game. “Fine, but talk to her about what else she’s interested in. Maybe she’ll talk to you.”

  “She isn’t talking to you?” Jess and Leah had a good relationship, she’d never had trouble talking to her mother.

  “She is, but you might have better luck.”

  “Alright. I’ll talk to her. She’ll be fine, Leah. She’s ten, she’s got time.”

  The game ended in another win for Bray’s team. When it was over, Leah and the rest of the family went to wait for him by the dugout. I checked my watch. 5:45.

  Where the fuck was Valentina? That damn test started at nine this morning. I’d been working with her over the past month, and more seriously the past two weeks.

  Seemed that motherfucker who’d taken her had been big. According to her, I was the only man she’d ever come in contact with bigger than he was, so her theory was if she could get me down at full force, she’d break whatever was mentally holding her back.

  I got it. In theory, she was right, but we both knew I wouldn’t hurt her. The upside was I now had no doubt my woman could handle her shit without me there. What I’d seen over the past month had been sick impressive.

  Bray’s coach was holding a meeting, so I stood at the top of the bleachers and waited so Leah could get a few minutes with the kids before we bailed.

  Fucking Valentina. If she wasn’t calling me because she was worried she’d interrupt me with the kids, we were having a nice long talk about her little problem of staying as far away from me as possible when I was with them. She dropped off the face of the earth when I had Bray and Jess. I appreciated her consideration for my time with them, but this was important shit.

  I was about to make my way down the bleachers when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and exhaled.

  “Well?” I answered.

  “Seriously? You answer your phone with ‘well’?”

  I relaxed at the lighthearted tone in her voice. “So, you passed.”

  “If you knew I’d pass, why did you insist I call you? Yes, I passed. Finally! I guess the third time’s the charm.”

  I laughed at her rambling, so happy for her. This had meant a lot, not just because of the belt, but because it was one more thing she’d overcome. “So fucking proud of you, baby.”

  “How did Brayden do?”

  Smiling, I glanced over at Bray with his sister and mother. “Good. Home run and a win. Thanks for asking.”

  “That’s what? Fifteen now?”

  “Yep. It’s his thing, I guess.”

  “And Jessa?”

  That was one of the things I lov
ed most about Valentina—her empathy for other people. She’d just completed something most men couldn’t do, and yet she was asking about Jessa. I sometimes forgot she worked with kids on the weekends. She’d seen a lot and was intuitive when it came to children.

  “She’s hanging in there. Jess’ll be fine.”

  “I’ve no doubt she’ll be fine. She needs to find something she enjoys that’s hers and hers alone.”

  I smiled and nodded to Bray who was waving at me. “She does. Okay, baby. Gotta go round up these kids. Tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. I’m picking you up.”

  “Wait! Why? Where are we going?”

  “Surprise.” I put a hand to one ear as the clank of feet clambering over bleachers began to drown her out.

  “Jaxxon, I hate surprises. I don’t need anything. I just want to hang out with you. Let’s order in.”

  The woman was too easy. I could get spoiled if she kept this up. “Nah, dinner. We’re celebrating. Tomorrow at seven. Be ready.”

  Her sweet laughter behind that shit music she listened to blared through my phone. “Fine. Okay. Have fun with the kids tonight. And Jaxxon! Thank you. Thank you for helping me train. I don’t think I could have gotten past this without you.”

  “You would have. It just wouldn’t have been as much fun.”

  “Definitely not as much fun. Okay, go get your kids. I miss you.”

  “Miss you too, sugar. Tomorrow at seven.”

  I hit end and shoved the phone back in my pocket. When I turned to go meet my family, a red-faced Jessa stood on the bleacher below me, hands on her hips.

  “Who are you seeing at seven tomorrow, Dad? Please tell me her name is not Sugar.”

  It took everything I had not to crack up at the way too grown-up attitude and defensiveness coming off my daughter. I let the comment go, because after all, she was my kid.

  I sat down on the bleacher, elbows on my knees, and got eye level with my girl. “Her name isn’t ‘Sugar,’ Jess. It’s Valentina.”

  Jessa crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head to her mom, who was talking with my sisters. “Is she your girlfriend?”