by Sarah Bale
Fighting for Desire
Sarah Bale
Weeks before his biggest fight, an MMA champion runs into the woman who broke his heart eight years ago. Now she has one month to convince him to trust her and forgive her, even if it means letting him find out everything he thought he knew about her was wrong.
Inside Scoop: Shannon’s old high-school sweetheart, Dev, gives a whole new meaning to the term “submission wrestling” when he brings out the shackles and chains for a little BDSM fun.
A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Fighting for Desire
Sarah Bale
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my sisters—Katie, Sammie and Terri. I couldn’t have done it without you girls!
I also want to thank my partners in crime—Yousef, Maegan, Lindsay and Angie. You guys are my inspiration.
And thank you to Jill, my editor, for helping me learn so much.
Chapter One
Music deep with bass shook the floor and Devlin James—Dev to his friends—moved to the beat. The air in the crowded nightclub held a spicy aroma. Dev laughed to himself. Okay maybe not spices exactly. The Latino beauty he danced with wore a strong perfume that teased his nostrils and set his blood on fire.
Though the dance floor was crowded, Rosa, the woman he planned to spend the night with, danced as if they were the only two people out there. His hand settled on her waist and she ground her ass against him, pressing herself against his cock. Her dark hair fell down her back in long waves as she shook her body with the beat of the music.
Oh yeah, tonight was going to be fun, whatever happened.
Dev glanced across the room and spotted his crew sitting at the VIP table. Beautiful women surrounded them, at least two for every male present. He grinned. Knowing his friends, they were making his bar tab grow higher and higher. He didn’t mind though. Tonight was about pleasure in any form.
Marco, his trainer and oldest friend, stood by the table scanning the packed crowd on the dance floor with an intense look on his face. When their eyes met Marco scowled. Fuck, not this again. Dev turned his back, ignoring his friend.
They had the same argument every time Dev won a fight. He would take his crew out to party and find a woman to spend his night with. After the first few times, Marco pointed out that all the women resembled her in one way or another. What a load of bullshit. She was a blonde and he never fucked blondes. Not anymore…
Marco would roll his eyes and point out the other similarities. They might not have the same hair color but there was always something about them that reminded Dev of her…their eyes, their smile. Though Marco had never met her, he knew what she looked like from the investigator’s file he had in his office.
Dev glanced down at Rosa and she smiled. So what if they had the same lips?
As the song changed to a slower tune, Rosa took him by the hand. He ignored the knowing glances his crew sent his way. They knew the drill. He worked hard and played harder and since he had won his fight he intended to enjoy himself.
He caught a glimpse of Marco going up the stairs to the second floor. He was supposed to be meeting an old flame but hadn’t been able to find her in the throng of people.
A tugging of his hand brought him back into the moment and he followed Rosa outside. They made their way through the crowded patio until they found a quiet corner. A breeze caressed his skin and he could smell the ocean in the air. Damn, he loved Miami. Unfortunately the life of a fighter kept him on the road so he wasn’t home as much as he’d like to be. When he wasn’t kicking asses he was promoting and doing media rounds.
“Dev,” Rosa purred in his ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
Her accented voice set his blood on fire. Everything about her screamed sex. And he was more than willing to oblige. Grabbing her hand, he led her toward the exit. Time to take this party of two back to his place.
Three fucking feet from the gate Marco stepped in front of Dev and his date, blocking their path.
“What?” Dev ground out.
Marco avoided Dev’s gaze. Bad sign.
“Shit,” Dev said. “What is it?”
Marco’s jaw ticked and he finally said, “She’s here.”
For a moment all Dev could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. Taking a deep breath, he filled his lungs with oxygen and then let it out slowly. No need for Marco to clarify—Dev knew exactly who his friend meant.
“Show me.”
Marco walked inside the club but as Dev started to follow, Rosa pulled him to a stop.
“Baby, I thought we were getting out of here.” She pouted her full lips and crossed her arms over her ample chest.
Those lips seemed second-rate now that he knew the real thing was there.
He shook his head. “Sorry, Rosa. I’ll have to take a rain check.”
Her eyes flashed fire. “I don’t give second chances, Devlin James.”
He stared down at her, weighing his options. Finally he nodded. “Have a great night.”
Angry Spanish curses filled his ears as he went back into the club. He supposed he deserved this verbal lashing but he didn’t really care. She would have been a one-night stand and there were always more where she came from.
“Marco, are you sure it’s her?” he asked over the loud music.
His friend stopped and replied, “It’s her, Dev. Trust me.”
“Does she know we’re here?”
Dev didn’t really mean “we”. What he meant was did she know he was there. Marco shifted. Oh hell, what next?
“She didn’t see me. She was…busy.”
He could only imagine what she was doing to keep herself “busy”. His fists clenched and unclenched. Fuck.
“Who is she with?” he asked in a voice laced with steel.
That was the million-fucking-dollar question.
Marco shook his head. “Dev, it’s not like that. She isn’t here with anyone.” He paused then said, “Just follow me and see for yourself.”
If she wasn’t with someone, then she was working. The club they were in, The Honey Jar, was popular for several reasons but mainly for the strippers who danced on the second floor. The dancers alone made the club the perfect place to take his crew and for Marco to meet up with his ex. However this was not a place she should be working at.
Sure enough, Marco led him to the stairs and began climbing. On the second floor, a large, armed bouncer sat by a door. Marco flashed their VIP card and the bouncer let them through. Dev wasn’t sure what to expect—he’d never been up there until tonight.
He stood just inside the doorway and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The lights, kept purposely low, had a sharp, blue-colored tint. A very flexible redhead wrapped herself around a silver pole at the front of the room. She slid down the pole, giving everyone watching a nice view of her bare pussy. Hell, he even caught a glimpse of a piercing.
She flipped from the pole and began swaying with the music. The beat was different than the tunes downstairs. This music was meant for one thing…turning men on. Shaking his head, he remembered why he was up there. He scanned the room. A few strippers were giving customers lap dances on large chairs situated around the wide-open floor but he didn’t see her.
“Dev, just don’t do anything stupid,” Marco warned.
“I don’t see her. Where is she?”
God help whomever she was dancing for…
Marco pointed across the room. “She’s bartending. Over there, on the far right.”
His gaze went to the bar. Sure enough, she was behind the counter, chatting with a man as she fixed a drink. The air left Dev’s lungs.
She hadn’t changed much since the last time he saw
her. She was still the most beautiful woman he had laid eyes on. She wore her long, blonde hair swept back in a ponytail but all he could focus on were the dark circles under her eyes. What was she doing to be so tired?
The white tank top she wore was tight against her skin, showing off the hot-pink bra underneath as well as her erect nipples. Her damn skirt was so short he imagined her ass cheeks were visible. And knowing her, she had on high heels. She always wore them, showing off her long legs.
“Dev?” Marco asked slowly.
Dev glanced at his friend and then began stalking toward the bar. Eight years had passed since he had last seen her and he still had a lot to say. And this time she was going to listen.
* * * * *
“Oh Mamá,” Molly breathed out, using her favorite Spanish word. “Check out the hottie coming our way.”
With a smile, Shannon glanced away from the customer to see who her friend talked about. Molly always found a “hottie” to enjoy for the night. This little game made the long nights go by quickly.
While Shannon would indulge her friend by looking, that was as far as she ever took the game. Even a friendly smile could be taken the wrong way at The Honey Jar and she didn’t want to deal with those issues again. Not when Johnny Ice was pressing so hard for her to take the next step at the club. Not when the money he offered was starting to sound tempting…
“Where is he?” she asked, pushing the unwanted thoughts away.
“He’s across the room, heading this way. God, look at those muscles.” Molly was practically panting. “Let me get this one, okay?”
“Sure,” Shannon agreed.
Missing out on one tip wasn’t going to kill her, not when it made Molly so happy to serve him. Grabbing another beer, Shannon slid it to a customer and then looked again, trying to catch a glimpse of the guy who’d captured her friend’s attention. Her heart slammed against her chest. No way. No. Freakin’. Way.
Before her very eyes, Devlin James came toward the bar. He moved his muscular body through the crowd with ease, his dark shirt clinging to him as he walked. He wore his brown hair cut shorter than she remembered but his dark eyes with their flecks of gold caught and held her attention.
Shit, she knew that look. Dev stalked toward her as if he were a lion set on ripping apart his prey.
“Oh my fucking god!”
“Shannon?” Molly asked in a worried tone. “Tell me you don’t know him!”
“Molly, I have to go. Now. Cover for me!”
Without giving Molly a chance to respond, Shannon grabbed her small purse from behind the counter and ran through the side door the employees used. If she was lucky, she could make it down the stairs and out the back before Dev had the chance to catch up.
Why had she worn her six-inch heels? She reached down, slipped off her shoes and ran down the stairs.
“Shannon,” he called out. “Stop running from me.”
She huffed at that. Apparently, after eight years his ego was as big as always. She picked up her pace, determined he wouldn’t get his way. Not this time.
Shoving the back door open, she ran, using her long legs to her advantage, making quick time through the parking lot. Her little car was parked at the back and she cursed herself for arriving late that day. Usually she was able to park right by the door but she had overslept. Working two jobs was starting to catch up to her.
She reached into her purse and pulled out her keys, fumbled through the ring until she found the right one then slipped the key into the lock. A large arm wrapped around her waist, sending shockwaves through her body.
“I told you I always get what I want,” he said against her ear.
His cock pressed against her lower back. Her eyes closed and she tried to forget how big he was—in every sense of the word.
“Why did you run, Shannon?” Surprisingly, he sounded hurt.
“We don’t have anything to talk about.” She hated how her voice sounded breathless, as if they had just made love.
His other arm wrapped around her, drawing her fully into his embrace.
“I’m not going to lie—you’re the last person I thought I would see here tonight.”
She bit her bottom lip, dismayed to learn his deep voice still sent shivers down her spine. To make matters worse he had started stroking her skin. She felt herself leaning into him. His arms were one of her favorite things about him and it had been so long since he’d held her.
He nipped her ear and then kissed her tattoo on the back of her neck. The touch of his lips branded her skin. Of course he would remember that silly tattoo. He let go of her with one arm but before she could think, he cupped her breast. Her nipple puckered instantly under his thumb.
He traced a path down her thigh.
“So silky,” he murmured.
He had always said her skin was as soft as silk. She used to laugh at him but now the endearment made her feel cherished. Her eyes shut as his hand moved under her skirt. With one easy tug he ripped away her thong and she smiled ruefully. Dev was never a patient man. He cupped her and then opened the lips of her hairless pussy.
“Ah, Shannon. Always so wet for me.”
He used his finger to spread her juices and she shivered. Her hips thrust against him of their own accord and he chuckled at how she responded to him. His finger scraped over her clit and air hissed through her teeth.
“Dev,” she moaned.
She wanted to stop this from happening but she couldn’t. She had missed him too much to let him go now. He pressed his hardness against her back and she wanted to weep. Even if this was purely sex for him, he must have missed her too, in some way.
“Please.”
Only one word but he guessed what she was asking for. The cool night air surrounded her as he lifted her skirt above her hips. His hand felt hot against her skin and the lace on her bra rubbed against her peaked flesh, pushing her that much closer to what she wanted. She braced herself against her car, knowing what was coming.
Hot breath hit her neck and she angled her head so she could capture his mouth in a kiss. Dev had always been the best kisser, teaching her everything she knew. Now she hoped to teach him a few things as their tongues danced together. He tasted faintly of mint and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him until she could remember that taste forever.
With a loud curse against her lips he pulled away and let her skirt fall into place. Hot tears filled her eyes as she held onto the car. The sound of him stepping back told her the moment was over, that he would not give her what she so desperately wanted.
“Fuck, Shannon. What are we doing?” He sounded as tired as she felt.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. It took every ounce of willpower not to wrap herself around him and beg him to protect her—to help her get out of the mess she had made of her life. She straightened her shoulders.
“I don’t know what you are doing but I’m going to work. Goodbye, Dev.”
She opened her car door and slid onto the torn seat. She knew he watched as she started the car and backed out of the spot. Luckily it had only taken one try to get the car going. Sometimes it took a while for the engine to crank.
A glance at the clock on the dashboard showed she was going to be late to her second job. She swallowed down the painful emotions burning her throat. She had survived eight years without him and she could survive more.
Chapter Two
Dev stood in the parking lot until Shannon’s car disappeared from view. What in the hell had just happened? He turned and saw a security camera pointed right at him. Fuck. He shouldn’t have been so careless.
He ran his hands through his hair and then stalked back into the club. Marco waited just inside the door.
“Everything okay?”
His jaw clenched and unclenched. “Get the car. We’re leaving in five!”
Marco grabbed onto his arm to stop him from striding away. Marco was probably one of the only people in the world who had enough balls to interfere whe
n Dev’s mood turned this black.
“I asked around while you two were…talking. She works here, bartending only. Then she leaves and goes to another job. The girl I talked to thinks she is a waitress at an all-night diner but she wasn’t sure.”
“What in the fuck is she even doing in a place like this?”
She was too good to be working in The Honey Jar. Even after everything they had been through he wouldn’t wish a job like that on her.
Marco lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know, man, but I do know one thing. You need to calm down and think this out.”
Dev felt his anger rising to the surface and he swung his fist before he could stop himself. The familiar sense of relief as he made contact with the wall was almost a comfort in that moment. Bits of drywall flew around Marco’s head but his friend never flinched. Hell, he was probably used to walls being destroyed by now.
“Finished?” Marco asked with a raised eyebrow. “Then let me finish what I was saying. You haven’t seen Shannon in eight years and a lot has changed since then. You are filthy rich, Dev. You have things people are after…”
Dev shook his head. “You’re wrong. Shannon isn’t one of those women.”
“Maybe so. Maybe not. My point is you need to be smart about this—don’t rush into the situation blindly. We need to form a plan, Dev.”
“What are you asking me to do? Pretend I didn’t see her tonight? Pretend I don’t still want to rip off her clothes and fuck her until I can’t breathe?”
It felt good saying the words out loud. Yeah, he still wanted her even though she had ripped him apart eight years ago.
His friend sighed. “Just give me some time to look into this. Don’t you find it hard to believe you just happened to run into her tonight? Didn’t you say you heard she was still living in Tyler?”
“The last I heard Shannon was still living with her folks but that was a few years ago. I wouldn’t blame her for getting out of that hellhole.”
