by Quinn, Cari
My breath clogged painfully in my chest. His eyes took my measure. Studying. Scrutinizing. Butterflies under glass couldn’t have felt any more pinned down than I did right then.
“Or maybe what I can pay you for?”
His silky voice lulled me, making me take longer than usual to get his meaning. Twice now, I’d let him make insinuations, and he was still standing. “How fucking dare you.”
“It slipped out before. Even with your reaction in there, I still didn’t want to believe it.” He cocked his head. “Guess I’m naïve.”
Before I could hiss out a reply, one of his massive hands came up to cradle my already stinging cheek. I could practically feel my eyelashes clinging together for warmth.
“Don’t you know there isn’t enough money in the world to justify selling off pieces of your soul?”
He had no idea how close he’d come to the truth of my life, in more ways than one.
The sting on my skin jumped to my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for the wash of tears, but I sure knew how to battle them back. “What makes you think you know a damn thing about me?” My voice was as hoarse as his was soft, and I hated that.
I wasn’t some quivery female caught in the storm of my emotions. I had my shit handled. Not only did I deal with it every day without flinching, I made money off my demons. I beat them back, again and again.
“I don’t know.”
He stared into the void between us, his fingers imprinting my skin. I didn’t push him away. I’d frozen like a statue, only feeling the warmth surge back into my limbs when he again raised his face to mine.
“But there’s something about you. I…recognize you.”
“From where?”
Impatiently, he shook his head. “No, not like that. I never saw you before yesterday, but it feels like I know you.” He sounded breathless. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
Only sheer pride kept me bolted in place. I’d never experienced an inexplicable need to escape before, not like this. He was like a living X-ray machine, seeing through me to all my internal organs. All my scars. I didn’t want to be open to him, but I didn’t seem to have a choice.
Despite my general cluelessness when it came to normal male-female interaction, even I knew what usually came next after this kind of conversation. The one secret vice I had was romantic movies. I scoured the bargain bins at discount stores and collected them like a junkie searching for her next fix.
In the movies I loved, after the smokin’ hot hero delivered a doozy line like Fox just had about recognizing me, the heroine got all big-eyed, leaned up on her tiptoes, and laid her lips on his. Then they had sex, and little birdies circled around their dopey heads.
And I’d curl up in my recliner with the springs burrowing into my ass and tears leaking down my cheeks while I wondered if I’d ever know what that was like, even for a moment.
But this wasn’t a movie, and I wasn’t anyone’s heroine. If I’d had to place a bet, even I would’ve seen myself as a big fat risk.
Snowflakes meandered down from the sky, fluttering over Fox’s cheeks and disappearing into the stubble on his jaw. I nearly leaned up to lick them off. “I want—” I swallowed, unable to say the words.
He stepped almost imperceptibly closer. His hand tightened around my chin, his fingers still pinching slightly, giving me that pain anchor I craved. It was all I knew. All I understood.
“What, Mia?” He licked his lips.
My gaze zeroed in on their soft perfection with an intensity that matched the sudden pulse between my thighs. The words were right there. So close.
“What do you want?” he pressed.
He would give it to me. Whatever I asked, he’d offer it. I didn’t know how I knew that, but I did. His urgency to give rose in equal measure to my desperation to force him away.
My eyes lifted to his. The naked need I found there stunned me, but it didn’t make me back down. Nothing would.
“I want to fight you.”
Nine
I stared, certain I’d misheard. I’d been sure she was about to suggest something more…friendly. Like sex. Or even making out. Anything but this.
My hand fell away from her face. My fingers had gone numb. As her words sank in, that sensation crept through my entire body. “What did you say?”
“You’re a fighter, aren’t you?” She shook herself, adjusting the jacket that dwarfed her slender frame. Cocky attitude firmly back in place. “Fox?”
I struggled not to sneer at the stupid nickname. “Your point?” No one would out-cock me, even if I feared the sidewalk beneath my boots would open up and swallow me at any moment. “I’m a fighter, and you’re a woman. In case you haven’t noticed.”
Her expression cooled until the snow that swirled around us contained more warmth. “Welcome to this century. Women can do everything men can. Including fight.”
I moved in again to see if she would retreat or hold. “And fuck.”
She held her ground. “So I’ve heard. Though I’m pretty sure they started doing that a while ago. Helps with the continuation of the human race and all.”
My breath hissed out in frosty puffs. This woman frustrated me to no end. It wasn’t even the case of blue balls I’d endured all day that bothered me. I didn’t understand her. And like a kid faced with an unexpected present, I had to keep tugging at the ribbon until the wrapping fell away.
Whether I’d find something I wanted to keep or forget was anyone’s guess.
“Let’s go to my place,” I said finally, noticing the patrons streaming from the bar. We’d been standing outside for what felt like forever. “It’s a few blocks away.”
She quirked a brow as she started to walk. “Fancy dude like you lives around here? Is your sports car in storage?”
I fell into step with her. She had no idea how close she skirted to the truth. Or maybe she did, since she knew who I was. I wished I had the same advantage.
I gritted my teeth and pushed my hands into my jeans pockets. My cock still hadn’t deflated, and walking hurt. Maybe the thing would snap off and put me out of my misery. “You indicated you live in this neighborhood too. Where?”
“Is that important?”
Forget my balls, she’d even turned my brain into a painful knot. “Ever heard of pleasant conversation?”
She slanted me a look as I moved ahead of her. We were going to my place and she didn’t know the address, but you couldn’t tell it from the way she marched up the street. I didn’t appreciate the puppy-off-the-leash feeling she inspired in me.
Fight me? Hell, she probably wanted to sell tickets to a public castration. With a dull butter knife.
“Once you mention paying for someone’s sexual services, I’d say pleasant is off the table.”
Though I was well used to bobbing and weaving, she kept me on my toes. “I’m okay with getting them for free too.”
Her lips twitched. It wasn’t a smile, wasn’t a laugh. Almost, though. I was getting closer.
“Did your parents really name you Fox Knox?”
I snorted. “Not hardly. My name’s Tray.”
“Like something you put plates on? That kind of tray?” Each of her breaths plumed clouds of air in front of her face. In no time, her teeth would start chattering.
As much as I wanted to enjoy her discomfort considering how much she sought to provoke mine, I couldn’t. Without thinking, I wrapped my arm around her waist and hauled her against my side. “You’re freezing. Don’t argue.”
She went rabbit-still. Stumbling a little, she picked up her pace again, soon matching it to mine. “You don’t even have a coat.”
“Yeah, well, I’m also suffering from sexual denial. That burns calories and generates warmth.”
“So…Tray? Really?”
Apparently, we weren’t discussing my sexual needs.
I turned at the corner, trying to ignore the way our hips collided before our rhythm smoothed out again. “Short for Trayherne. My father’s middle name
. It’s only slightly better than Fox.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Fox fits you.”
“You’ve seen me fight then.”
“I have. But even if I hadn’t, I’ve gotten a few good looks at your face.”
I frowned, unsure of what she meant. “Explain that.”
“You know what fox means, right?”
“Yeah. Fast.” I shrugged. “I guess. I never really got what it was all about. To me, foxes are small rodenty things. But people act like it’s a compliment.”
Mia came to a halt and I did too, albeit a little slower than she did. Since I hadn’t expected her to stop, we bumped into each other again, but she didn’t act as if she minded.
Because she was too busy laughing.
No, not laughing. Roaring. Clutching her sides, doubled over, long dark braid bobbing while she fought to haul in air that I hoped froze her lungs.
I crossed my arms and waited.
After a couple of minutes, she rose and wiped her streaming eyes. “Sorry. I enjoyed that.”
“Are you quite finished?”
That set her off again. The bout of laughter didn’t last as long this time. “Whoa.” She sucked in a breath. “My belly hurts. Damn bruise.”
Without checking the impulse, I nudged her under a streetlight and tugged up her shirt. A shadowy smudge stretched from above her navel toward her ribs. I laid my fingers on it, cutting my gaze to hers when she shuddered.
“Cold,” she whispered.
I lifted my hand and blew on it, brutally aware she was watching me. Feeling idiotic, I kissed my fingertips and placed them on her skin again.
If anything, she shuddered more.
“How’d you get this?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt.
She jerked a shoulder. Somehow she hadn’t shoved me away yet. “Had a disagreement.”
“With who?” Whoever it was, I’d go show him what I thought of men who hit women.
“Some chicks.”
Chicks, plural. I couldn’t stop the inexplicable swell of pride. “How do they look?”
“Worse than I do.”
“Figured.” Though I didn’t want to, I drew my hand away and carefully pulled down her shirt. God, I hadn’t expected her to be so warm and soft. “Are you gonna tell me why you were laughing at me, Giggles?”
“If only you knew how rare it is for me to laugh, you’d rethink that name.”
“So tell me.”
She pushed her bangs out of her eyes. “You really don’t know what fox means? Other than the animal?”
“No. I really don’t.” I resumed walking.
It was way too cold to be hanging around on street corners. Why the hell hadn’t I moved south?
Mia jogged to my side, and we headed to my apartment in silence. Until she gave me one of those sideways looks and muttered, “It means sexy.”
Since my mind had wandered to what I would do with Mia once we arrived at my place—other than demanding what the fuck she’d meant by asking me to fight her—I didn’t catch on right away. “Fox? You’re shitting me.” I thought back to the guys at the gym who leered and laughed every time they nailed me with that stupid nickname. “No way.”
“Yep. It’s kind of an old-fashioned term, but it means you’re hot. Sexually desirable.”
I rubbed a hand over my hair. Snow crystals had started to freeze on my scalp. My hand was so cold I barely felt them. “You said you thought it fit me. So you find me sexually desirable?”
She shrugged. “Sure. In a vanilla sort of way.”
“Vanilla, huh?” I stopped in front of the brownstone I lived in and snagged her arm when she would’ve kept going. “Don’t suppose you’d like a demonstration of how wrong you are?”
“Nah. Thanks.” She smirked. “I think I’m good—”
Cutting her off, I dragged her against my chest and tipped back her face with my thumb on her chin. I’d had enough of her amusement at my expense. “Open up.” I swept my tongue between her lips, silencing her brief protest.
Then I was inside her, if only in this insignificant way. The cold night disappeared. Everything did but the warm mouth that parted eagerly beneath mine.
Her rumbling moan vibrated through me and made me lightheaded. Need spiked low in my belly, causing a surge of blood into my cock that demanded more than our testing brush of tongues. Forward, retreat. I wanted to rake my teeth over the fullness of her lips, but they were cut. I didn’t want to hurt her while I was giving her pleasure.
Unless she wanted me to.
Despite my hesitation, she didn’t hold anything back. She fisted her fingers in my shirt and pulled me down. And in. I was drowning in her taste, cinnamon and mint. The combination didn’t go together. I was used to girls tasting like fruit or candy. She was more tart than sweet. More hard than soft. Her body yielded in my arms, but her tongue only became more aggressive, almost daring me to keep up.
Why did that turn me on so damn much?
She moaned again when I got rougher than I’d intended, and I immediately drew back. “Sorry,” I mumbled, fairly certain I’d never apologized after a kiss before. Her heavy lids lifted and she smoothed the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. I couldn’t help the groan that escaped me. “Jesus, Mia, don’t do that when I’m trying to be honorable.”
“Why?”
I scrubbed my face with my fists. She sounded genuinely confused. “Because we barely know each other. Because you don’t feel like someone I can just sleep with and forget, and I don’t do anything else. Because you have sore lips.”
When I dropped my hands, she was touching those lips, running her fingers over them. If she’d cupped her bare breasts, I doubted I could’ve been more aroused.
“I’m sore all over, Fox.”
I rolled my eyes at the nickname. Damn, she wouldn’t give me even a temporary reprieve.
“It’s not the first time,” she continued, “and it won’t be the last.”
Some secret hidden meaning lurked behind her words. I just didn’t get what it was. “You’ve been in a lot of fights?”
She gripped the zipper of my jacket and ran it up and down, the noise seeming way too loud. This was never the quietest neighborhood. There was always a backfiring car lumbering past or someone dragging metal garbage cans to the curb. But tonight there was just deathly silence, made even thicker by the accumulating snow. Even the traffic noises were muffled.
For the moment, we were the only two people who existed.
“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate.
I was beginning to put together the puzzle, but I wasn’t sure if I was lining up the pieces correctly. “With your boyfriend? Or your husband?”
She shook her head.
“Your dad?”
As she gave another shake of her head, I frowned. So much for thinking I could figure this out on my own. I needed to ask a direct question if I wanted a direct answer.
“Then who?”
She shrugged. “Other women. Anyone who wants to. Just like you.”
My frown grew. What the hell was she talking about? I’d thought maybe she wanted me to train her to become more skilled in defending herself against whomever she fought on a regular basis. But this conversation had just veered right off the tracks. Again.
“I want you to hurt me. I want you to kick my ass, Tray.”
While I reeled at her usage of my real name, she stepped forward and gathered my shirt in her fist, pulling until the fabric tightened around my neck. She had my attention now, every bit of it. “Mia?”
“You won’t succeed, but I need you to try.”
“Jesus fuck, what is this?” So much for being articulate. I couldn’t make sense out of this conversation, and I didn’t get why we’d delved into this topic again while we were still outside in the freaking cold.
Oh, wait, yes, I did. I’d kissed her and opened Pandora’s crazy box.
“Why aren’t you listening to me?” She punched my chest, leaving a
dull pain behind. “I’m a fighter, just like you. You haven’t heard of me because women fighters don’t count for shit around here. But I’ve heard of you. I’ve watched your tapes. I’ve seen your matches. You’re good.” She licked her lips. “But I’m better.”
Laughter exploded out of me with the finality of a gunshot. She didn’t flinch. Barely even reacted. She’d been expecting it, obviously. “You’re a fighter? For real? Who the hell have you been taking out? Smurfette and her rowdy blue brothers?”
Her teeth clicked as she set her jaw. “You shouldn’t insult what you just admitted you don’t know a damn thing about. Get in the ring with me, and we’ll see where all your big talk leaves you.”
I nearly laughed again. “Honey, I can’t deny you have the body for it. You just had it up against me, so I know you’re in good shape.”
“Fuck you. I’m not your honey.” She shoved me back with the flat of her hand.
Much to my surprise, it almost hurt. Almost.
She wasn’t through yet. “You had your tongue down my throat. That doesn’t make me your little woman.”
“I never said—”
She was still coming at me, pushing me backward with surprising strength. I wasn’t putting up a struggle, true, but she was still driving me up the sidewalk. And she wasn’t even winded. With her eyes blazing and her braid trailing in the wind, she was a beautiful sight.
Not that I dared tell her that, in case she decided to go for my nuts.
“Guys like you, you think you know everything. You’ve got the world by a string, and it only ever unwinds the way you want it to. That’s not how it is for the rest of us. We have to fight for what we want. We have to bleed.”
She stopped shoving me and started yanking on my shirt to expand upon her opinion. If we’d been inside, I was pretty sure this conversation would’ve ended with her pulling off my clothes. And vice versa. The leashed energy pouring from her was seriously turning me on, and I was rapidly losing the ability to argue coherently. Anytime now I’d probably volunteer to fight her naked in front of a crowd of jeering men with slabs of raw meat attached to my ass.
Hey, it could happen.
