Against the Ropes

by Sarah Castille

  totally different. You have purpose and control, whether you fight for

  sport, protection, or defense. His violence came from anger and fear.

  You never hurt anyone without reason; he always did.”

  Max strokes his hand up and down my back, then palms my bottom

  and squeezes my cheeks. “What about when we’re together? Our play

  always sets you off.”

  My tongue glides over his bottom lip. He tastes minty and fresh.

  He tastes like Max. “I was afraid of losing control. I didn’t really un-

  derstand that ‘Agusta’ put me in the driving seat until you explained it.

  And now it doesn’t matter because I know I have fight. I won’t be afraid

  to tell you to stop.” I take a deep breath and bite my lip. “Maybe we

  could…try again.”

  Max cups my head and pulls me down for a long, hard kiss. “Don’t

  worry, baby. We’ll try again. You need to be punished for springing all

  my relatives on me like that. But not while you’re like this.”

  “Threats and promises.” I push myself down his body and unbuckle

  his belt.

  Max groans. “We should get some rest.”

  My restless hands slide his clothes over his hips and toss them on

  the floor. “No rest. You’ve had a week to rest. Now it’s time to play.”

  I crawl up his body and flick my tongue over the swollen head of his

  shaft. “How about this? Any problems with inebriated Makayla engag-

  ing in this sort of behavior?” Max’s hands fist on my back, and his body

  tenses under me.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” I whisper.

  “You can take it as your two-minute warning. Two minutes and

  I’m taking over.”

  I look up and smile. “I can do a lot in two minutes.” I lick a circle

  around the head of his shaft and then slide my tongue down its length.

  “You taste good,” I murmur.

  He becomes impossibly hard and I struggle to take him all in.

  “Makayla, baby—” His body strains upward, and I wrap my hand

  around his throbbing erection and stroke him in counterpoint to the

  slide of my lips. His hand sifts through my hair, pulling tight. I suck

  him hard, taking him deep.

  “Fuck. I won’t be able to hold out.” He tugs my head back and in

  one smooth wrestling move he flips me onto my back.

  “I thought I had two minutes, not two seconds.”

  His eyes rake over my body and the look he gives me is nothing

  short of carnal. “My bed. My rules.”

  “Wipe that self-satisfied smile off your mouth,” I grumble. “You

  have only the illusion of control.”

  Max throws back his head and laughs. “You tell yourself that, baby.”

  Ten minutes later we lie groaning side by side on the bed.

  “What do you mean, you don’t have any condoms?” I moan.

  “I didn’t come here expecting to find you naked in my bed. Where’s

  your purse full of condoms?”

  I edge away from him in case the heat of his skin sets me back down

  the road of no release. “It must be downstairs. Rampage had to carry

  me up here.”

  “Rampage carried you and put you to bed?” Max pushes himself up

  and glowers at me.

  “Why, yes he did,” I sigh. “I see getting hit on the head has not

  diminished your overprotective nature in the least.”

  “Some things are not going to change. Better get used to it.”

  My eyebrows fly up to my hairline. “So, if I want to be with you,

  I’ll never be allowed to put myself in danger; I’ll have to ensure no man

  looks at me if I’m naked or in a state of semi-undress; and I’ll have to

  trust your judgment and do what you want at all times?”

  Max gives a satisfied grunt and nods. “And always let me know

  where you are.”

  “I was joking.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Maybe this won’t be a happily ever after.” I fold my arms across

  my chest.

  Max unfolds my arms and leans down to lave my nipple. “It will be

  if we find some condoms.”

  My lips quiver with a repressed smile. “Rampage and I shouldn’t

  have used them all up. It was quite thoughtless of us.”

  Max flips over and lands on top of me, his weight crushing me into

  the bed. He pins my wrists to the pillow and presses his forehead against

  mine. “Not funny.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s not funny,” I rasp. “Aching to have you inside

  me and not having a condom. Now, get off me. You’re turning me on.”

  “Everything turns you on. I almost can’t keep up, and that’s saying

  something.” Max lets me go and slides off the bed. He grabs his jeans

  and shirt from the floor and dresses before I can get up.

  “Everything Max turns me on,” I correct him.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “You’re going to pound out your frustrations on poor Rampage,

  aren’t you?” I tug on my clothes as fast as I can.

  “He touched my girl.”

  “He took care of your girl.” I walk over to him and slide my arms

  around his neck. “I have a better idea. Let’s go to my place. My house

  is closer than yours, empty, filled with condoms, and we have never had

  sex there before. “

  “You mean my house.”

  I suck in a sharp breath. “You bought the house? You’re the myste-

  rious new landlord?”

  Max laughs. “I couldn’t let you live in a hallway. I also bought your

  apartment at Sunset View. Why don’t we go there?”

  “How about both? The night is still young.”

  Frowning, Max grumbles, “The bed in your house is barely big

  enough for you.”

  I give him a wicked grin. “I wasn’t thinking about using the bed.”

  .....

  Are you awake?

  No

  What are you doing?

  I’m watching you sleep

  I’m not sleeping

  Then I’m watching you awake

  How do I look?

  Beautiful

  Flattery will get you in my pants

  You’re not wearing pants

  That’s right. You tore them off

  Max likes torn off pants

  Makayla has no pants left for you to tear off

  Good. Easy access

  Behave

  You’re mine. I don’t have to behave

  BAD MAX. Keep your hands to yourself

  I’m not using my hands

  Chapter 28

  I Heart Max

  Friday night. Fight night. My favorite night of the week.

  I arrive early at the club and head straight to the first aid office. Our

  shiny new MMA club license is posted just outside my door. My days

  are busier than ever. When I’m not in paramedic training or volunteer-

  ing on the ambulance crew, I run the first aid office at the club.

  Except for the days Max doesn’t let me out of bed. Or the days we

  go down the coast on his motorcycle, or drive at the racetrack, or have

  picnics on the beach, or visit Max’s relatives in the South, or barbecue

  with Amanda and her latest squeeze on the terrace at Max’s house.

  By the time I have prepped my office, the line has formed. With

  twice as many classes and twice as many fighters, I rarely have a moment

  to myself. The evening pas
ses quickly. When my last patient walks out

  the door, it is almost closing time and I have only a few minutes to walk

  the floor and say hello to my friends.

  Rampage waves me over to his post by the red line. “Hey, Doc.”

  “You got a new smiley face shirt.”

  Rampage pats his belly. “The other one disintegrated. Musta been

  poorly made. I got this one for five bucks at a dime store.”

  “Try washing it once a week.”

  Rampage frowns. “What’ll that do?”

  “Make it clean.”

  His eyes narrow. “Are you planning to step over the red line, Doc?”

  I grin. “With both feet.”

  “You know the rules.”

  “One round in the ring with Torment. Looking forward to it. Blade

  Saw taught me some new moves.” I mock up my new fighting stances.

  Rampage chortles and looks me up and down, making a show of

  checking out my tiny red spandex shorts and fringed bra top. “If you’re

  planning to fight wearing that, you won’t need new moves.”

  “That’s the idea.” My hand slides to my bottom where I am still

  feeling the aftereffects of my last attempt to wear something tight and

  sexy in the fight ring.

  Rampage shakes his head. “You got balls to take him on like that.”

  “He’s got to learn not to be so overprotective.”

  “You’re fighting a losing battle. He’s wired that way. I’m surprised

  he hasn’t just locked you up in the house to keep you safe.”

  I snort a laugh. “He tried that. Didn’t go down so well for him.”

  A short, stocky man with overly tight shorts pushes past me and

  almost knocks me over. Rampage growls and grabs him by the collar.

  He lifts him high in the air and holds him right in his face.

  “You almost knocked Doc over. You don’t disrespect Doc. You

  might need her someday. And she’s Torment’s girl. You don’t want to

  mess with Torment. You got that?”

  The guy nods and Rampage drops him, clamping his hand around

  the guy’s arm.

  “You new?”

  He nods again.

  “You fight?”

  The newbie shakes his head. “I was just taking a look around. I’m

  on my way out. Name is—”

  “Don’t care what your name is,” Rampage snaps. “Don’t know

  how you slipped in earlier. Maybe cause you’re so tiny. We have rules

  here. You come in. You fight. It’s simple.” He drags the guy down the

  aisle and yells, “Last minute newbie. Open the pen.”

  “Don’t let him put you in the ring with Torment,” I shout after

  Rampage’s newest victim. “He’s got no mercy. He’ll tear you to ribbons.”

  Dr. Drake looks over and peels himself away from the punching

  bag. He meets me in the aisle and gives me a peck on the cheek.

  “How are you?” I ask. “I was glad to hear you weren’t in the hos-

  pital too long.”

  He touches his head. “Almost fully healed. The police arrested Doris

  for the attack. Imagine. Doris attacking me. Apparently she thought we

  were meant to be together, and she went crazy when she heard you and

  me in my office.”

  “I heard you signed up to be our new ring doctor.”

  Dr. Drake grins. “That’s right. We’ll be working together again.

  Plus it gives me a chance to do some real training. I finally got in the

  ring with Torment, and he kicked my ass. He said it was a warning.

  Apparently I’m not to look at you or speak to you or breathe the same

  air as you. If I touch you, he’ll hunt me down and kill me and bring

  you my head as a trophy. Only reason he took me on as a ring doctor

  is because someone told him I was good at what I do. Who could that

  have been?”

  I give him a wink. “Can’t imagine.”

  “You’d better get going before I get in trouble,” he says with a grin.

  “Seeing you in that outfit makes my fingers itch and I like my head

  where it is.”

  I take a step away and then turn back. “Thanks for looking in on

  Gloria Martinez. My friend Sergio really appreciated the extra follow-up

  after her surgery.”

  Dr. Drake waves a dismissive hand. “I was happy to do it. It made

  me rethink my decision to move into administration. I’m meeting the

  board next week to talk about getting my admitting privileges back. I’m

  a healer, like you, Mac, not a paper pusher.”

  By the time I reach the ring, Max and the newbie are already in

  position. Rampage and Homicide are snickering in the corner. The

  newbie is quaking in his too-tight shorts. Max’s face is devoid of expres-

  sion, but I can see the humor in his eyes.

  I take a seat in the front row beside Jake.

  “Looking good, Doc.”

  “Back at you.”

  Jake gives me a lopsided grin, and for a second I forget I hate him

  for hurting my best friend.

  “You here alone?” He shuffles his feet and twists the ring around

  his finger.

  “You mean other than with Torment?”

  Jake shrugs. “Yeah. Like, did you bring any friends? You brought

  that big guy last week—the one who wanted to get in shape.”

  “Charlie.” I laugh. “He loved it. LOVED it. He goes to the hospital

  gym every day now to practice his Muay Thai moves on Drake. He’s

  coming back this week to learn some Brazilian jujitsu.” All paid for by

  his promotion to green slip manager.

  Jake nods. “Drake is climbing the ranks pretty quick. Everyone

  thinks he’s just a pretty face, but when he gets in the ring he sure packs

  a punch.”

  So does Max. I look up just as he stalks over to the newbie. He

  growls and the newbie dives under the ropes and scrambles off the

  platform. Rampage catches him and roars with laughter. The newbie

  manages to crack a smile.

  My phone buzzes and I check my Caller ID. Amanda. She’s going

  to freak when she finds out I’m sitting beside Jake.

  “What’s up?” she asks.

  “I’m at the club. Max is intimidating a newbie. He still insists I

  come to every fight, even if he’s just sparring. I can make it through

  anything less than five minutes so long as there is no blood. I’m pretty

  proud of that.”

  “You’re too good to him,” she chastises. “If you cave in all the time

  he won’t respect you.”

  “He respects me,” I whisper. I slide off the bench and step out of

  Jake’s earshot. “Once a week I get to be on top, and I insisted all sex

  toys have to be soft, pink, or have ribbons or feathers. It’s kinky sex,

  Makayla style.”

  Amanda giggles. “Sounds like you’re keeping him in line.”

  “Well, he did go out and buy a pink paddle. When he gets too

  bossy, I turn off my phone and do something crazy—like cliff jumping,

  or skydiving. After the inevitable explosion, he grabs his paddle and we

  have wild punishment sex.”

  “I haven’t tried that one.” Amanda breathes. “I’ll have to toss a

  few paddles Drake’s way when he comes over tonight. He’s doing an

  edible theme—edible panties, chocolate sauce, popsicles, dill pickles,

  pepperoni sticks, whipped cream…it will be a veritable feast.�
�

  “There’s a veritable feast sitting on the bleachers,” I whisper.

  “Jake?” Her voice drops. “Did he ask about me?”

  “In a roundabout way.”

  “Do you think he’ll call?” Her voice wavers. “Should I tell Drake

  not to come over?”

  I glance sideways at Jake, engrossed in the fight. “Not yet. Give him

  time. I don’t think he’s written you off.”

  A whistle blows. Rampage nods and I climb into the ring. Max is

  facing the other way, talking to Obsidian. Rampage clears his throat.

  “We have a line crosser for you Torment. This one’s trouble. I’ve

  seen her around before.”

  “Wait,” the newbie yells. “You can’t put her in the ring with

  Torment. She’s a girl. She’ll get hurt.”

  “I’m not afraid of him,” I assure the newbie. Not anymore.

  Max spins around. His eyes rake over my barely there skirt just

  covering my tiny exercise shorts and my even tinier fringed top. I shake

  my girls and my fringes dance. Obsidian catcalls. Rampage whistles.

  Max’s jaw tightens.

  “Club is closed. Every one clear out,” Max hollers.

  Rampage gives me a wink and herds the last of the fighters out of

  the warehouse. By the time everyone has gone, I have almost lost inter-

  est in my own game. Almost. Not quite.

  Max’s biceps twitch like he wants to catch someone. “Ready?”

  My heart pounds and I nod.

  He stalks toward me, and I push myself back as

  hard as I can. When he is close enough, I let go.

  Whump. We’re down on the mat. I am lying full out on top of Max.

  From the state of affairs under his shorts, he likes this position. A lot.

  “One point for me,” I whisper and wiggle.

  The smoldering look in his eyes sends white-hot need ratcheting

  through me. We get to our feet, and I look down to adjust my top.

  Whump. I’m down on the mat. Max is kneeling astride me. His

  eyes darken and my body heats in an instant.

  “I like it when you mount me, Max.” I lick my lips. “But that

  wasn’t fair. I wasn’t ready.”

  “You show up in my ring dressed like that, you know what’s

  coming,” he growls.

  “Are you trying to turn me on?”

  Max leans down and rasps in my ear. “You were turned on before

  you stepped into the ring. I know that flush on your cheeks, baby. You