by Fawkes, Sara
His family epitomized the word “uptight”, but after he’d left home and stumbled on the kink scene,
he’d never had to hide again.
“Then one night we went to a party,” she said softly. “I don’t think he knew what kind of party it
was. But in every room in that house people were acting out the very things I had imagined. It made
me so...hot.” She stumbled over the word and buried her face in his chest. “I don’t think I had ever
been so aroused. We ran away, of course. But when we got home I told Preston what I’d been hiding.
And because he wanted to make me happy he tried. That night he tried everything I asked. But in the
morning when he woke up...” She choked back a sob and Jax tightened his arms around her.
“Shhh, little fighter.”
Marcy took a deep breath. “He looked at me with such disgust. He told me I was perverted and
sick and that I’d corrupted him. And then he left and I never heard from him again.”
Anger flared through him and he bit back a growl. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Marcy. We
all have needs. Different needs. People who would judge you for them aren’t worth your time. You
shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are. And if you want to find people who share your interests, the
kink scene would welcome you with open arms.”
“I don’t need a kink scene, Jax.” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. Trusting. “Just someone
who understands me.”
Chapter Six
“Fuck, Marcy. You have to focus.”
Marcy bit her lip and slid off Jax’s chest. The last hour had been the most grueling training session
of her entire career. Jax had gone from patient and understanding to abrupt and temperamental—angry
even—in the space of a night and a day.
She should have guessed something was up after their encounter in the gym. Although he’d been
attentive and courteous in the gym, helping her dress and collect her things, he’d become distant as he
walked her to her car. She’d been up most of the night worrying that he regretted what they’d done.
Now she knew she was right.
On the pretense of getting a drink, she grabbed her water bottle and slipped out of the ring. Her
stomach was twisted in a knot and every minute she spent pressed up against his body practicing
submissions made the pain infinitely worse. She couldn’t take any other hour. Definitely not two.
As she added a few drops of water to her already-full bottle, Reid joined her at the cooler.
“You okay?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be? I have to wait another year for a shot at the State Championship and
Jax has been replaced by his evil twin brother who spent the evening tossing me around the mat like a
rag doll.”
Reid shook his head, his face grim. “This is my fault. The minute I saw you two together in the
ring, I knew I should pull the plug. In this profession, coaching and relationships don’t mix. Not that it
can’t work, but it takes a lot of effort when you’re in close physical contact all the time.”
“We’re not in a relationship.” She sighed and twisted the cap on her water bottle. “Last night when
I thought he’d raised issues he wasn’t planning to tell me, things got out of hand. But it’s fine now.
He’s probably acting the same as he usually does and I’m just being overly sensitive. I’ll get over it.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Jax is only here for few weeks and then he’s gone. Miami, I
think he said is next on his route. He’s got nothing permanent here. His car, apartment, even his phone
were provided by the gym as part of the contract. He’s never stayed longer than two months in a city.
Says he prefers it that way. He wants a life without attachments or relationships.”
“Reid...”
He held up a hand, forestalling her. “I know I said I’d kick you out if you didn’t give him a chance.
But you did, and if it’s not working out for whatever reason, just say the word and I’ll find someone
else to coach you.”
Someone else? Despite Jax’s sudden personality change over the last hour, she couldn’t imagine
training with anyone else. Jax understood her in a way no one else ever had. So why was he pushing
her away?
“Thanks, Reid.”
Reid tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and then he swallowed. “Marcy...” He cut
himself off when she gave him a puzzled frown, and then dropped his hand. “Nothing. Forget it. I just
don’t want to see you get hurt—in or out of the ring.”
A sliver of unease crept through her heart. Was she missing something? She’d never thought of
Reid as anything other than a friend, albeit an extremely overprotective one. Had she misread him?
She glanced up but saw only concern in his handsome face.
“It’s nice to know you have my back.”
Reid winked. “Always got eyes on you. Always have. Always will.”
***
“Jax?”
Jax’s head jerked up as he reached for the door handle of his rental car, a sporty Audi A4. Damn.
She was still here. No quick escape for him. But really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Marcy wasn’t a
woman who shied away from confrontation and tonight he’d given her something to be
confrontational about.
He’d been a fucking bastard.
Spinning around to face her, he leaned against his vehicle and folded his arms. Aggressive?
Defensive? He hardly knew himself any more. His behavior this evening had been totally out of line,
uncharacteristically harsh, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. Part of him wanted to push her away so he
wouldn’t have to convince her to fight, when truly he wanted her submission. Nor did he want to
destroy her dreams and open his heart by telling her the truth. But the other part of him, the primal
beast within, wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his cave, ravage her in every
way he knew how, coax her surrender, and then hold her in his arms until he had the energy to do it all
again.
Unfortunately, he’d taken out his internal struggle on her.
“What’s going on?” Marcy had changed into a pair of tight jeans that hugged the curves of her hips
and her long, lean legs. With a short leather jacket thrown over a tank top, and a pair of worn cowboy
boots, her hair loose and spilling over her shoulders, she took his breath away.
For a long moment he didn’t speak, caught off guard by her frank question and wary of where it
might lead.
She sighed and shook her head. “You were brutal in there. Harsh, abrupt—”
“You weren’t focused.” He scrambled for a plausible explanation. “It was like we were starting
from the beginning.”
“You didn’t give me a chance,” she snapped. “Five minutes into the session you suddenly went on
the attack. Is it because of last night?”
Jax’s stomach tightened when her voice wavered and he cursed himself for allowing things to get
this far, especially when he was going to have to tell her the one thing that might destroy her dreams.
“No, of course not.” Even he didn’t believe his own lie.
She met his gaze with a level stare, her eyes glittering under the dim glow of the overhead
streetlight. “Then kiss me, Jax,” she said, an unmistakable challenge in her voice. “Kiss me and mean
it or walk away.”
It wasn’t really a choice.
With a groan, he pulled her into his chest. “I can’t walk away.” He slanted his mouth over hers and
crushed her lips in a bruising kiss, slaking the thirst that had burned in him since she’d walked into the
gym this evening.
Marcy moaned, a deep guttural sound that hardened him in an instant. His hands glided over her
body, cupping her ass and pulling her tight against him. Blood pounded through his veins as he
devoured her mouth, giving her no respite until she whimpered.
Appalled at his loss of control, he pulled away. But Marcy followed him, pressing her soft, sweet
breasts against his chest, her breath whispering over his lips.
“Jax?”
No. God. No. He had to stop. It could take weeks to find her a new coach and he would do her more
harm than good if they became involved while he was training her. Tonight had been a case in point.
“Jax?” Her voice rose in pitch and his stomach clenched with guilt.
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, as much to clear the fog from his brain as
to keep his gaze off her lush lips, pink and swollen from his kiss. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, and
last night...shouldn’t have happened.”
Her breath caught and she stared at him aghast. “But...I wanted it to happen. It was my choice,
too.”
He shook his head, jaw tight. “It’s my responsibility to stay in control. You’re just so beautiful,
sweet, you were hurting...” His voice trailed off as the irony of the situation twisted his gut. Her
success as a fighter depended on his failure as a dominant.
For a long moment she stared at him, her body trembling. Then her eyes hardened. “Damn you.
Reid said he’d find me a new coach if I wanted. I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”
She took one step back and another, and then she turned and disappeared into the shadows.
Fuck.
Every instinct screamed at him to go after her. But his thoughts were too twisted up to sort through
the tangle of emotions churning in his belly. He should be relieved, happy even. Between them, Reid
and Marcy would solve the problem for him. He had almost finished with the other fighters he’d been
contracted to help. One or two more sessions and he would be free.
So why did his heart ache at the thought of moving on?
Too agitated to join the other fighters for a drink at the bar as he usually did, he drove back to his
corporate rental apartment, furnished in bland beige and brown. Here and there he’d tried to add his
own touch: a White Sox pennant, pictures of his family, a drawing from his niece who still hadn’t
given up hope he would one day give her a cousin to play with, and a bottle of George T. Stagg, his
favorite whiskey.
He threw himself in front of the television and flicked mindlessly through the channels. Unable to
focus, he changed into his fight shorts and ran through an exercise routine in the spare room he’d set
up as a make-shift gym. When even physical exertion could not calm the raging torrent of need
coursing through his blood, he stripped of his clothes and stepped into the shower.
“Dammit.”
He turned the shower to full blast and as soon as the water hit his skin, he fisted his cock and
began to stroke.
Eyes closed, chest heaving, he was rough with himself, his hand quickening as he visualised
Marcy’s sweet face flushed with arousal. The gentle curves of her body. The dip of her stomach. Her
beautiful heart-shaped ass, so soft beneath his fingers. His cock thickened in his palm and he pumped
harder, imagining her breasts soft and warm in his hands, her pussy wet and ripe for him...
Fuck.
Firm now. Faster. Every stroke bordering on pain as the hot water beat down on his body.
Punishing himself for drinking deeply of her honey and tasting the sweetness of her lips when he knew
that banquet was not meant for him.
Oh God. Those lips.
Close. So close.
He beat himself without mercy, the slap and slide of his hand clearly audible over the pulse of his
shower, the sound driving him almost insane as he imagined himself driving deep inside her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His muscles tightened and in his mind he buried himself in her soaking pussy,
pinching her clit so they could come together in a violent, heated rush.
His balls lifted, tightened. Finally he came, his release bursting from his spine in long heated jets
of liquid pleasure as he groaned, “Marcy.”
He was well and truly fucked.
Chapter Seven
“Hey, baby girl, need another drink?”
Marcy took the proffered beer bottle from Two Step and joined Val on the barstools at his kitchen
island. “Great party,” she shouted over the dulcet tones of Stereoliner, “but, as always, you invited too
many people. I could barely get through your living room.”
Two Step laughed. “That’s what makes it a great party. And I’m expecting another wave of people
now that Club Excelsior is closed for the night. Reid said he would round up any stragglers and bring
them over.”
“No doubt I’ll know them all and the ones that aren’t already hooked up will be gay or on the
rebound,” Val muttered. “Seriously. I work at a sporting goods store owned by bunch of hot fighters
and can I get some of that sugar? No. I’m stuck with accountants, middle managers, and paper
pushers. If Reid doesn’t have a decent straggler for me, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”
Marcy grimaced. Hopefully Jax wouldn’t be one of those stragglers. She’d purposely taken back-
to-back shifts at the store to avoid seeing him today, and tonight Val had promised to keep her
distracted with an endless supply of chili lime margaritas. So far so bad. Val hadn’t stopped talking
about hot fighters since they’d walked in the door, and the only alcohol on offer had been the one
drink she couldn’t stand, beer.
“You’d better get started on your margaritas.” Marcy gestured to the blender. “Reid can be a tad
intimidating, but not as much as me when deprived of my promised distraction.”
“Heard Reid was cutting you from the list,” Two Step said as Val slid off the seat and headed for
the blender.
“Yeah. Jax told him I wasn’t ready. Damn depressing.” She took a sip from the beer bottle and
cringed as the warm, bitter liquid slid over her tongue.
Reid frowned. “How did that work out? I’d heard you and Jax were—”
“No.” Marcy cut him off, knowing what he was going to say. Club Excelsior was worse for gossip
than high school had ever been. “We’re not. And who’s spreading rumors anyway? Did Reid say
something?”
“You know how it is.” Two Step shrugged. “The way you two have been rolling around on the
mats...”
“Training,” Marcy snapped. “We were training.”
Two Step snorted a laugh. “Yeah. Training. If I had a girl who looked like you lying on top of me
for hours every night, I’d tell her she needed more training, too.”
Marcy’s breath left her in a rush. “You don’t think...”
“Don’t ask me.” Two Step gestured toward the door. “Ask him.”
Marcy didn’t need to turn around. She sensed Jax behind her, felt his heat. But even if she hadn’t
been so attuned to his presence, Val’s wide eyes and raised eyebrows would have given the game
away.
“Hey,
Jax. How’s that cup working out for you?” Val’s lips quivered with a repressed smile and
Marcy mentally crossed Val off her Christmas lists for the next ten years.
“Perfect.” His voice rolled over her, deep and warm, bringing back memories of their night in the
gym. She pushed away thoughts of that voice in her ear, filling her mind with deeply erotic images of
the things he wanted to do to her body. Instead she focused on Val smirking across the counter, Two
Step’s blank expression, the steady drip of the faucet, and the gentle rattle of bottles on the counter as
the heavy bass of Slayer pounded through Two Step’s house.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Marcy picked at the label on the beer bottle while Two Step and
Val exchanged a glance. Sure, she was being rude, but she had every right. Didn’t she?
“Marcy, I need to speak to you.”
Marcy stiffened at Jax’s tone, completely unapologetic, almost commanding.
“I’m busy right now.”
“Marcy...”
“Busy,” she snapped.
“Actually, we’re not that busy,” Val said, a smile curling her evil lips. “I was just about to whip up
a pitcher of margaritas, and Two Step was about to do a walk-around with that case of swill he passes
off as beer.” She dropped her gaze to a furious Marcy. “Maybe you should go talk to him. He’s
looking kinda down. Not the cheerful cup-buying Jax we saw in the store.”
Kill you, Marcy mouthed at Val before turning around and glaring at Jax. “Five minutes.”
He gave her a curt nod and led her out to the balcony, closing the glass door behind him. A cool
breeze ruffled Marcy’s hair, bringing with it the faint kiss of the ocean and memories of happier
times. Family times. She hugged herself against the chill and longing for the sister she hadn’t spoken
to in years.
Jax’s brow creased in a frown. “Cold?”
“We’re only here for five minutes. I’ll survive.”
“You don’t have to just survive.” He shrugged off his jacket, and before she could protest he had
wrapped it around her. Marcy steeled herself as the residual warmth of his body seeped into her skin.
No way would one chivalrous gesture undo the damage he had done. She gave him begrudging thanks
and then shrugged. “Say what you have to say, Jax. I was having a good time until you showed up.”
