The Fight Club - Boxed Set

by Becca Jameson

  “Why?” Gage asked.

  “Because I never should have fucked Sabrina that day. It was a horrible judgment call on my part. I was thinking purely with the little head. I swear I’ve never once done anything so fucking stupid in my life.”

  “You didn’t know if she was still enrolled or not.” Rider had pieced it together.

  “Right.”

  “Geez, man. That has to have something to do with this. Are you sure Sabrina isn’t a possibility?”

  “Yes.” Conner took a deep breath. “Look, if Sabrina were pissed at me for fucking her, she could have turned me in at any time. Why wait two months?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the next time she saw you, you were an ass, and before that she hadn’t been nearly as pissed?” Rider leaned closer again.

  Gage spoke on the tail end of that rhetorical question. “Just out of curiosity, why do you keep saying you fucked her? So harsh. When I hook up with a woman I’ve been lusting after for a while, I usually sleep with her, have sex with her, make love to her—something like that. Don’t think I’ve ever said I fucked her first.”

  Conner curled up his face again. “Trust me. I fucked her. I’m not even sorry. She wanted it. I wanted it. It happened. After lusting after her for four months in my classroom, the next time I saw her in July, my cock got so hard it nearly jumped out of my pants. And the way she looked at me…” He ran a hand through his hair as he thought back on that excruciating meal. “She licked her lips and squirmed in her chair from across the room and…” How the hell could he describe that scene to the guys? “I’m just sayin’… She wanted me. I wanted her. It was obviously mutual. We didn’t exchange words. We fucked. I left. That was it.”

  “Why the hell did you leave?” Gage asked. “If you wanted her that bad for that long…” His voice trailed off.

  “I was stunned for one thing. And, ironically, I thought I had just fucked a student.”

  “But she wasn’t a student,” Rider clarified again.

  “No. She only took that one class. Mine. She didn’t enroll for the next semester. She’s an editor. She wanted to explore some of the classics. I made her life rather miserable apparently.”

  The three of them stood there in silence for a while.

  Finally Conner shook himself out of his reverie. “We better get back to work. We aren’t going to solve this right now. And I’m not sure it requires solving. As long as no one sends any more e-mails to the dean, the allegations will fizzle out. There’s no proof. There never will be. Either someone maliciously set me up, or someone thinks Sabrina is a student. Either way, I’ve done nothing wrong. Even if I at one point thought I had done something unethical, it turns out I didn’t.”

  “Well,” Rider lifted his weights, “if anything else happens, let me know. Maybe I can help.”

  “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.” Conner sat on the bench to get started.

  Rider turned back to face Conner again. “Have you told Sabrina all this?”

  “No, and I don’t intend to.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because it has nothing to do with her, and I don’t want her to worry for no reason. If I paraded her into the dean’s office as an alibi, her name would be as muddy as mine through no fault of her own. Even though she’s innocent, no one would ever be sure. Trust me, I’ve put enough on her plate lately. She doesn’t need any added issues.”

  “I’ll bet you have.” Gage chuckled. “Bet she had no idea what was coming when she fell for you. She’s young enough she can’t possibly be prepared for your brand of dominance. Does she know what she’s getting herself into?”

  Conner tried to send a glare toward Gage, but he was fighting a grin. “She’s learning. I haven’t been gentle. So far she’s been up to the task.”

  Gage lifted both eyebrows. “Oh, how I wish I could be a fly on the wall while you tame that beast. It must be a wonder to behold. Imagine. Conner Bascott falling for a younger woman with marginal BDSM experience. A woman with claws and a mouth on her.” He laughed as he walked away.

  Conner grinned. Oh, yeah. And Sabrina Duluth was all his. She might be feisty, but that was half of the reason he was so smitten. A demure woman without a spine would never do it for him. It took thirty-eight years and one very outspoken woman for him to realize all the modest obedient submissives he’d been with in the past with their heads appropriately bowed and their hands crossed behind them would never have taken him down. Hell, he hadn’t realized at any point in his almost four decades that he needed to be taken down a notch. If anyone would have suggested anything of the sort, he would have laughed his head off.

  And then came Sabrina. Soft and sweet on the inside, hard and spicy on the outside. Yes. He was so going to enjoy every minute of training her to submit to him in the manner he preferred. And the best part of all? He got to watch the pure lust that spread across her face every time he punished her for deliberately disobeying him.

  She walked a fine line, and she knew it.

  Sabrina was his. If he admitted it to himself, he had known that from the moment he first entered that bathroom and realized she was everything he ever wanted in a woman. She didn’t know it, but she brought him to his knees that day. That’s why he couldn’t stay or even speak. He was shook up. The look in her eyes as he stripped her and made her body hum… His cock got hard every time he thought about it. The visual was permanently etched in his mind.

  He hadn’t known at the time that she’ dabbled in BDSM. Whether she knew it or not that day, she was a submissive. Conner knew it. And he took advantage of it.

  And he would do it again in a heartbeat.

  Chapter Ten

  Sabrina sat at her desk Saturday morning, struggling to pay attention to her manuscript. Her mind was swamped with thoughts of last night. Her concentration was shot. If she didn’t pull her act together, she would get behind. Clients were waiting on her. Deadlines were looming. No one cared that she’d met a Dom and fallen under his spell, rendering her mind inoperable.

  She closed her eyes, visions of Conner leaning over her body and commanding her every move making her heart rate soar. The look in his eyes as he kissed her good night at her front door sometime after one in the morning… The way he held her thighs spread open and gazed upon her… The feeling of his finger inside her back hole… The touch of his hands against her breasts…

  She groaned and jumped up to shake the memories from her head. The man was completely under her skin. She struggled to concentrate with thoughts of his dominance shaking her to the core.

  She had to work. Even though it was Saturday, she had too much work to take the day off. He said he’d be there that evening, and he was taking her out to dinner and then to the club. She wouldn’t be able to enjoy herself fully if she didn’t get enough done during the day.

  How had the tables turned so abruptly? One minute they’d been at each other’s throats and then next…they were fucking in her bedroom. She hadn’t had a chance to ponder the arrangement. Truth be told, Conner hadn’t given her the opportunity to deny him. He claimed her, and that was the end of it.

  Not that she minded. Submitting to him wasn’t optional in her mind either. Without speaking a word, he could command her with his expressions. Damn.

  She forced herself to eat lunch and get back to work, finally managing to immerse herself in the novel she was editing. Before she knew it, there was a knock at the door, and she jumped in her seat.

  She glanced around the room, startled. “Shit.” It was later than she’d thought. The sun was already dipping in the sky.

  She pushed back from her desk and hurried to the front door, not yet registering that she would find Conner on the other side. But there he stood, in the flesh, a smirk on his face as he glanced up and down her body.

  She lowered her face to take in her appearance and groaned. “Oh damn.” She held the door open farther to let him in. “I lost track of time. I haven’t even showered.”

&nb
sp; “I see that.” He chuckled. “Love the outfit, by the way.”

  She wore loose shorts and a tank top. No bra. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head. No makeup. She groaned again.

  Conner took her hand, kicking the door shut behind him. He tugged her toward the bedroom, speaking over his shoulder. “I love that you’re comfortable enough to let yourself be all natural with me.”

  She followed on his heels, struggling to keep up. She had no choice. After all, he nearly dragged her down the hall. What was the rush?

  Conner didn’t stop until he reached her bed, where he sat on the edge and pulled her to one side by the arm. He finally met her gaze. “I’m going to spank you now.”

  She opened her eyes wide. “Why?”

  “Cussing, baby. Don’t like it. I’ve told you enough times. You cuss, your ass will be pink.”

  “Shit.” She moaned and jerked back a step. “I mean, I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll try, but it’s going to take me a while.”

  He smiled. “Take as long as you’d like. You’ll try harder and learn faster if you like to sit comfortably.” His hands were on her shorts, and a second later he had them and her panties around her ankles. “Step out.”

  She did as he said, grabbing his shoulders to steady herself. Her mind hadn’t caught up enough to really consider what he was about to do. Before she could fully internalize his intention, he had her over his lap, her face on the mattress, her hands above her head.

  He held her lower back firmly and spanked her, hard.

  Sabrina winced at the unexpected pain. She’d been spanked many times over the years. Always for pleasure. Never for punishment. Or at least not seriously.

  It smarted.

  Again he swatted her ass, his hand landing in another spot at the juncture of her cheeks and her thighs. With no warmup, his slaps hurt worse than they would normally. The sensation was foreign.

  He spanked her again, several times in fact, not letting up. She lost count. And just as quickly it was over, and he tugged her to her feet.

  She heaved for oxygen, tears threatening to fall. She didn’t want to cry in front of him. She was mortified. “That hurt,” she mumbled, squirming.

  He held her arms to keep her in front of him. She felt decidedly naked. All she wore was her tank top. Her pussy pulsed with need and left her exposed. She squeezed her legs together, aggravated he’d caused that kind of arousal in her with a punishment spanking.

  “Look at me, Sabrina.”

  She lifted her gaze, fighting the tears.

  His face was firm. “No cussing.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Spread your legs.”

  She hesitated.

  “Now.”

  She stepped out.

  “Good girl. When I punish you, you will not be allowed to come.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Those words made her need worse. She thought she might faint from the pulsing between her legs. A deep ball of need squeezed inside her belly. From a punishment.

  He turned her around and led her to the attached master bath. “Take a shower. The warm water will help. Then we’ll go out.”

  Her ass hurt. Or maybe it just stung. It might have been her pride that hurt worse. Could she do this? Let Conner control her like this? He told her he would, but she hadn’t been prepared for such a quick decisive introduction to his world. He wasn’t kidding. He was an intense, firm Dom.

  Conner flipped on the shower and held his hand under the spray while it warmed up. When he was satisfied, he turned around, pulled her tank top over her head and ushered her into the warm water.

  Sabrina swallowed. The need to cry had subsided somewhat, but she still shook as she let the water cascade down her body. It felt good. She glanced through the glass door to see Conner leaning against the vanity, watching her.

  Ugh. Was he always going to be this high-handed with her? Probably.

  Making quick work, she washed her hair and put conditioner in it.

  “Shave, baby.”

  She gulped at the thought of him watching her work the razor between her legs. If she didn’t find a way to control her jittery hands, she would cut herself. Taking a deep breath, she started with her legs and worked her way up. By the time she reached her pussy, she had her nerves at least partially under control. She ignored Conner entirely to do so, pretending he wasn’t staring at her.

  After rinsing, she shut off the water and stepped out. Conner handed her a towel. “Do you like Mexican?”

  She wrapped the terry cloth around her and lifted her gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Excellent. There’s a great restaurant I thought we’d go to and then the club.” He stepped forward. “You okay, Sabrina?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She swallowed for the millionth time. She was sort of okay.

  He scrutinized her face. “I’ll be strict with you, especially at first. I don’t have many rules. There are few things I won’t tolerate. Cussing obviously. I want you to be respectful at all times. Even when we aren’t in the role. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.” When are we not in the role? It seemed as though he expected her to obey him all the time.

  “Good. Now, get dressed. Don’t take too long. I’ll wait in the living room.” He released her chin and turned toward the door. “Oh, and Sabrina,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Yes?”

  “A skirt or a dress. No pants.”

  She nodded. Of course.

  When he left the room, she lowered her shoulders and took a deep breath. Holy shit.

  She groaned at the thought, knowing she needed to curb her four-letter thoughts or risk a permanently pink ass.

  Half of her wanted to scream and show him the door. The other half was titillated beyond belief. She wanted more. More of his sexy commanding self all up in her business. It was intense, but so fucking hot… Fuck. She enjoyed the spanking. And although it was frustrating how badly she needed to come, the edgy feeling was also titillating.

  Making quick work, she removed the towel from her body and wrapped it around her head. She padded to the bedroom, shuffled through the hangers in her closet, and decided on a black dress that was decent enough for a restaurant but sexy enough for a night at Extreme also.

  She’d only been to Extreme the one time, with Doug. But as far as she could tell, it was very similar to the other clubs she’d attended over the years.

  The dress had an open back that didn’t permit a bra. With her smallish chest, she didn’t need a bra for support. She almost always wore one anyway for comfort and to keep her nipples covered, but the dress had built-in cups that afforded her that protection. She slid the soft material over her head and let it settle around her hips, wincing at the contact against her ass. She hesitated for a second before deciding against panties. The lace would be intolerable this evening.

  Back in the bathroom, Sabrina removed the towel, worked her fingers through her hair, and started the blow dryer. In fifteen minutes, she had makeup on and her hair tamed to the point of barely damp.

  She slipped on her favorite black heels and headed for the living room.

  Conner stood from the couch as she entered. He held one of her romance books in his hands, his face impassive. “You read this all day?”

  She nodded. “I do.” He needed to curb his attitude about her job before she kicked him in the balls.

  “But this is rubbish.” He held it up higher. “How can you call it good literature?”

  Her head nearly exploded. She set her hands on her hips and glared at him, choosing her words carefully. She wanted to tear him down effectively without cussing. “Dr. Bascott, you seem to be under the misinformed assumption that any literature that isn’t part of your precious Brit lit isn’t worth reading and therefore of no value.”

  “Exactly.” He set the book back on the coffee table as though it were diseased.

  “That’s insane.” She threw her hands in the air and stomped forward a few paces. “I make a good living editing romance novels
, Conner Bascott. I love it. Contrary to your preconceived notions, there are hundreds of authors out there who need good editors, more than I can possibly handle. These days I turn down more authors than I take. With the age of self-pub, I can be selective. I’ll have you know my job is serious, and I support myself just fine.”

  “Are you having a tantrum, Sabrina?”

  Her eyes widened. On the tip of her tongue was a solid “fuck you,” but she held it in, barely.

  Suddenly, Conner stood tall and with a flourish broke into a voice she’d never heard before. “‘No sight so sad as that of a naughty child,’” he began, “‘especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?’”

  Sabrina was stunned. He thought he could quote Charlotte Brontë and take her down a notch? Hell no. “‘They go to hell,’” she replied, exceptionally proud of herself and her ability to come back at him with the next line in Jane Eyre.

  In fact, she thought she would one-up him by tossing another quote back at him from the same book while his mouth hung open in surprise.

  “‘I do not think, sir, you have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority depends on the use you have made of your time and experience.’” Sabrina stared at him hard while he recovered.

  “Touché,” he finally said, a grin spreading across his face. As if he hadn’t seen her until that moment, his gaze roamed up and down her body, and his expression heated. “That dress is sexy. You look amazing.”

  “Thank you.” She fought against a smirk that he’d just now noticed her. She sauntered to his side of the room and shuffled through the books on her coffee table, choosing one of her recent favorites, a BDSM that had made her panties wet and her toes curl when she edited it. She held it out to him. “Read this, oh wise one, and then tell me it has no value.”

  Conner stared at her outstretched hand for a moment before taking the book from her. “Challenge accepted.”