Full Contact (22 page)

“Soon?” I rock my hips against him and he growls.

“Now.”

And then he thrusts so fast and hard, my back arches and my head hits the table. If I weren’t so wet, so needy, so utterly consumed by the desperate need to come, I might have been frightened by his intensity, the rough movements that border on pain. But fear beats a hasty retreat before the rush of desire pumping through my veins and the sheer and utter thrill of being taken by the Predator.

“Tell me what you want.” He drags me down until my backside is partly off the table and then he brushes my clit with his fingers.

“I want you to take me,” I say, panting. “Fuck and don’t hold back.”

The sound that erupts from his throat is part groan, part growl and all approval. Then he drives deep as he curls one arm around my right thigh, and lifts my leg, spreading me so wide that his every thrust slams against my piercing, sending pulse after pulse of pleasure through my clit.

“Ray…” I want to ask him if he needs me to let go and hurt him, but desire steals my breath away and I want to know—does he really need it?

Faster. Harder. He drives me to my peak with dizzying speed until the pulses in my clit become one long burn and I am gone. Shattered. Screaming Ray’s name as I climax around his throbbing cock.

Vaguely I am aware Ray has withdrawn and instead of the delicious hardness of his cock filling me, he has curled two fingers inside my sex and is stroking them against my G-spot.

“Again, beautiful girl.”

“No. I can’t.” I writhe, trying to escape the incessant press of his fingers as a different pressure builds inside me, low in my womb, deep, uncontrollable.

“Shhhh. Don’t fight it.” With his free hand, he spreads my moisture up and around my clit. The dual sensations, coming so fast after my climax and before I have fully come down, make my body tingle. The pressure builds until I’m shaking, grateful for the solid table beneath me.

“I love to watch you come,” he whispers. His muscles ripple as he moves, abs tightening as he leans close. But it is the intensity on his face as he glides his fingers inside me, the softness in his eyes as he smooths his hand over my skin, and the powerful thrust of his hips as he leans close and rubs his cock over my throbbing nub that send me over the edge. Again.

Moisture gushes from my sex, trickling down my cleft, and my lower body convulses in a slow rolling, powerful orgasm, different from anything I’ve experienced before. I am swept away in a rush of pure sensation so exquisite I don’t want to move.

“Tempted to keep working your G-spot,” Ray says, his voice a soft growl. “But I don’t think I can last with you so wet.”

“Now your turn.”

“Now bed.” He untangles the ropes, then lifts me easily off the table and carries me to his bedroom, yet another feast of sensual delight in a large alcove, hidden behind thick, gray plush curtains. As he climbs up beside me, I take in the dark-blue Thai print wallpaper, the twinkly overhead recessed lights, and the enormous soft bed covered in a cool, navy silk duvet.

“Gonna love you now, beautiful girl,” he whispers as he kneels between my legs. “Gonna love you until you don’t ever want to let go.”

And before I feel even a flicker of anxiety, he thrusts into me, his cock a painful pleasure as it glides through my sensitive inner walls. “You are mine, Sia.” He withdraws and drives in again, deeper this time, ripping a groan from my throat. “I want to look after you. Love you. Protect you. Everything I have, everything I am, I want to give you. I wanna be there when you wake. I wanna be holding you when you fall asleep, and I want to be inside you every minute of every day whether I’m in your head or in your heart or in your very sweet pussy.”

His words sink into me, cover me, warm me. Dazed with pleasure, on the brink of release, I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck pulling him down for a kiss. This time there is no teasing, no violence, no heat. His kiss is soft and sweet, his fingers stroking my face in an almost reverent gesture.

“Sia.” My name is a murmur on his lips, a whispered prayer.

When he moves again, he gentles his stroke, holding me on the brink, giving me enough to keep me on edge but not enough to tip me over. Bracing himself with one hand, he sweeps the other down my body, then up again to caress my breast.

“I can make you feel good without this.” He flicks the piercing in my nipple. “Or this.” He reaches down to my hood and tugs on the little barbell. “You don’t need them. I can give you back what he took from you. Reclaim yourself through me.”

I answer with a kiss, sweeping my tongue through his mouth, tasting him as he drops his weight and we sink deeper into the bed.

“You okay?” He covers my body with kisses and caresses, firing my nerves with sensation and my heart not with fear but with warmth.

“Love me,” I whisper, as he tortures me with yet another slow slide of his deliciously thick, hard cock. “And do it fast.”

One last gentle kiss, one promising quirk of the lips, and then he grips my hips and pounds into me, so hard, so deep, so fast that my orgasm crashes through me in a tidal wave of pleasure, washing away the last of my fears as it ripples out to my fingers and toes. Ray stiffens, hammers deep, and climaxes, his fingers digging grooves into my skin as his cock pulses inside me.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers as he collapses on top of me, his hard body over my soft curves, his sun-darkened skin a contrast to my paler complexion. But we fit together—our bodies mold together in an eclectic contrast worthy of this room.

“You did it,” he says softly.

“So did you. I didn’t hurt you.”

My eyelids grow heavy and sleep falls over me, a thick, black, warm curtain scented of Ray and me and sex, and surrounded by the deep rumble of his voice.

The only thing spoiling this perfect moment is his whisper just before I drift off.

“But you did hurt me.”

Cut me

The next morning, Doctor Death comes in for his ass addition. I tell him I don’t want to have to worry about Ray ripping off his balls, so Duncan has agreed to take over. Doctor Death is not pleased. He says he prefers my soft hands. Duncan offers to rub some lotion on his skin. I crack up, but no one seems to get the joke. Maybe they don’t like psychological thrillers like me.

Yuri stops by for another tattoo. He is wearing a black hummingbird tie over a white shirt and baggy black pants. Rose regretfully informs him that we’re booked solid for today. She suggests he make an appointment, which is what most people do. For the first time, Yuri loses his cool. He thumbs his nose, showing off the heavy, gold bling on his fingers, then removes his dark sports shades and glares. Spending a lot of time around fighters has made me proficient at interpreting nonverbal aggressive communication. I quickly join Rose at her desk and tell Yuri I have an hour free, and if he doesn’t need a complicated piece, I will be happy to help.

Mollified, Yuri settles himself in my chair. He wants a small pink rose tatted on his bicep above the most evil-looking skull tat I have ever seen. While I prepare and ink his arm, he peppers me with personal questions about where I live, places I hang out, friends, boyfriends, and days I have off, all of which I struggle to avoid answering. He is unfailingly polite, never pushes when I am evasive with my answers, and doesn’t flirt in any obvious way. My mind says there is no reason to mistrust him, and yet instinct has other ideas, making my skin prickle and my pulse pound until the tattoo is finally done.

Slim arrives just as Yuri is leaving. He grumbles about the renos at the old shop. He wants everything to look the same as it was before and has been sourcing used chairs and equipment to replace the furniture that was damaged. He wants character, not shiny new. As he talks, I look around the shop. Although we haven’t been here long, it feels like home to me. Not just because it’s the kind of shop I had always imagined working in, but because of the fighters who have become my friends and how safe I feel when I walk in the door.

“At least Torment scared away that damned idiot who was going to defile the shop with his car race mural.” Slim gestures to the blank wall and snorts a laugh. “Hopefully we’ll be outta here before Torment finds someone to replace him.”

“What would you put on that wall?” Christos comes up behind me and rests a hand on my shoulder.

“Paintings,” I say softly, so Slim doesn’t overhear. “I’d show local artists. Change them out every week.” Maybe even start with my own work. A thrill of excitement slides down my spine at the thought of painting canvases big enough to fill the space.

“I heard Torment offered you the shop.”

“Yeah. I turned him down. I don’t think I have what it takes to run the place.”

“But you’ve taken a business management course,” he says. “You do great work. The fighters who come here all ask for you.”

Turning, I frown. “Christos…”

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” he says. “The place wouldn’t be the same without you. But how can you pass up this opportunity?”

“I don’t always make the best choices. What if I fail?”

“Then you come back to Rabid Ink.” He puts his arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “You’ll always have a place with us, Sia. Hell, I’ll drag in an extra chair myself if Slim fills yours.”

“To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it—”

“I hope so,” he says. “You’re a great artist, and you’ll be a great manager. Everyone in the shop sees it. You just need to believe in yourself.”

Believe in myself the way Jess believes in me, and Tag and Ray. I’ve watched Slim for years. Maybe I should take that step. Maybe I should stay.

Hands shaking, I text Jess to tell her I’m going to do it. I’m going to talk to Torment when he comes in tonight and take him up on his offer to run the shop. And then I’ll talk to Slim. Of course, she’s ecstatic. She says she always knew I could do it, but it’s been a long wait.

After work, I show up for Tag’s Grapple and Groan class, but Tag isn’t there. Rampage is subbing for him and tells me Tag never showed up. The skin on the back of my neck prickles. Tag is nothing but punctual and reliable, and if he didn’t even bother to call to say he wasn’t coming, something is seriously wrong. I call his home, his cell, my parents, the station, and his detective partner, Lou. No one has seen Tag. Rampage suggests I call Ray. He is a PI after all. So I call Ray. He says Tag is with him. They can’t talk right now, but everything is okay.

By the time I return to the class, everyone is partnered up except me. Rampage explains that no one wants Ray to tear off their limbs, so I have to use a grapple dummy. He gives me the lifelike Grapple Man who looks like Doctor Death but with his eyes closed and lacking a little something between the legs. I like Grapple Man. He is totally without pretense. Right from the start, he makes it clear he likes to bury his face between my breasts, and he does this until Rampage comes over and straightens his arms. After that, Grapple Man kisses me instead.

While I’m stretching after the class, Tag and Ray arrive. Tag goes straight to Torment’s office and closes the door. Ray stops me before I leave the mats to chase after him. In full view of everyone in the gym, he wraps his arms around me and holds me tight as if something terrible has happened and he doesn’t want to let me go.

Full contact. This is how Ray speaks when his emotions overwhelm him. I melt into his stillness. His body is hot and hard, his breath warm on my neck. He smells of leather and sweat. He smells of sex and sin. And another scent, sharp and tangy… Blood? Memories of being sweaty and panting on his table hit me in a rush. All the pent-up emotion I’ve been harboring all day tightens my chest, and after giving him his moment, I try to push away.

“What the hell is going on?”

Ray tightens his grip. “Something came up. I needed Tag’s help.”

“Great. Another cryptic explanation. You sure know how to win a girl’s trust.” I push harder, but it’s clear there’s no way he’s letting me go. So I put my lessons to good use. I use my new grapple techniques to break his hold. When he loosens his grip, I twist and whirl away.

For a moment I think it was that easy. My illusions are quickly dispelled when I find myself on my back on the mat with Ray on top of me, pinning me with the weight of his body, his forearms on either side of my head.

“What just happened?” Dazed, I stare into his eyes, now a deep azure blue.

“Leg sweep. Carried you down. Now I got you in submission.”

“This girl isn’t submitting to anything, especially not with someone who steals my brother away and doesn’t tell me what’s going on.”

A pained expression crosses his face. “I promised Tag I wouldn’t say anything. We just want to protect you.”

My chest heaves as I try to contain my emotions. “I’m tired of being cosseted and protected. I’m tired of everyone thinking I’m going to break. I know now it’s partly my fault. I liked that Dad and Tag looked out for me, but it meant I wasn’t looking out for myself. So when I did step out of line with the biker and with Luke, I wasn’t prepared for what could happen. And after that, it was easier to go back to the way things were. I let Tag protect me, and when you made me feel safe, I let you protect me too. But I don’t want to be like that anymore. The price is too high. If it concerns me, I want to be respected enough, thought strong enough, to be involved.”

“Gotta talk to Tag first.”

Not what I want to hear. I press my arms against his chest, motioning him away with my chin. Ray pushes himself to sitting, straddling my hips.

“No. I want to hear it from you,” I say. “Tag would never ever forget to call in if he couldn’t make it to work, and given our relationship, that means he’ll never tell me.”

“I gave my word.” He frowns and touches my neck. “Where’s your necklace?”

“I took it off to work out. I didn’t want it bouncing around and getting lost.”

His brow creases. “Promise me you won’t take it off again.”

“Ray…that’s nice in theory, but sometimes it just isn’t practical.”

“Promise.”

With a huff, I thud my fists against his rock-hard stomach. “Okay. I promise. Now get off me.”

Ray grabs my wrists and pins them to the mat over my head, his body angled over me. My breath catches in my throat, and I steel myself for the memories, the black rush, the heart-pounding fear, but it doesn’t come. Instead, a red haze settles over my vision, and I press my lips together and buck my hips, throwing him slightly forward.

Bad plan. Now his groin is only inches away from my face. He’s still wearing his jeans, which means that bulge isn’t a cup.

“Ray…”

His face softens. “I hurt you.”

“Yes, you hurt me. Keeping secrets hurts me. It makes me feel like you don’t respect me. And it makes me feel like I can’t trust you. So maybe you could return to your proper seat now. Tray table up.”

He shifts down, settling his weight over my hips, but he doesn’t release my hands. “I hurt you. Means you care.”

I swallow hard and meet his gaze. “You hurting me means I was being stupid. Things were going where I didn’t want them to go. Now I’ve had a wake-up call. You have secrets you can’t share. You need to protect your secrets. I need to be with someone I can trust, and I need to stand on my own two feet. It’s just not going to work between us.”

His gaze darkens, searing me to the core. “You want to be done? Or are you scared and trying to push me away?”

The air shifts between us, electrifying, tightening my nipples and heating my blood. I am hyperaware of his thighs tucked against my hips, carrying most of his weight as he sits astride me in a dominant MMA position. My wrists, hot under his palms, press against the cool mat, restrained in a way I could never have imagined allowing them to be restrained. My chest rises and falls twice for every one of Ray’s breaths, and my core tightens. The innuendo isn’t lost on me. God, yes. I want to be done in the carnal sense of the word. But only by Ray. And I don’t really want to let him go.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Ray’s hands tighten on my wrists, and he leans down and brushes a kiss over my lips. “I don’t want to lose you either, but I live in a dangerous world. I’ve got stuff in my life that would make your head spin. I need to protect you from that, and I’ll do what it takes to keep you safe, even if it means you hate me for it, because for the first time in my life, I want something more than doing my duty. I want a life and I want you in it. I’ve got one bad guy to catch and then I’m free. And after I’m done and after what went down this evening, you’ll never have to worry about being safe again.”

Finally, he releases my hands but I don’t move. Heat sweeps through my belly. I feel both vulnerable and curiously safe lying beneath him. My gaze shifts from his intense gaze to his sensual lips, and my breasts swell, remembering the touch of his hands, the gentle press of his lips. He wants me. Not just today, but tomorrow and the tomorrow after that.

“You make it sound like I don’t have a choice about being with you.”

“You don’t.” He leans down and kisses me with a savage fierceness that takes my breath away.

“I suppose that’s a good thing since I have a history of making bad choices, and if I chose to believe you, it would probably be a bad idea.”

Ray stands, then holds out a hand to help me to my feet. “You think coming with me now would be a bad decision?” He pulls me up and into his body in one smooth fighter move.

Behind us, exercise machines whirr and weights clang. Rampage barks orders like a drill sergeant and someone laughs. But Ray’s gaze is focused entirely on me, and now his hard, masculine body is pressed up against me, and all I can think about is how much better it would feel if we weren’t wearing clothes.

“Yes.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.” He cups my jaw in his broad palm, stroking his thumb over the apple of my cheek. “I can show you things, Sia. Things that will take your breath away. Things that will make you so hot and wet you won’t remember your name. Any dream, any kink, any fantasy, anything you want to try, I’ll make it happen and I’ll keep you safe.”

“It’s not about sex. It’s about my heart.”

“I’ll look after that too.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the heated interest in his eyes, and I draw in a ragged breath. “Any fantasy?”

Footsteps thud on the mat nearby. I catch sight of Tag walking toward us out of the corner of my eye, but he’s not close enough for me to see his face. And I am distracted by the beautiful fighter in front of me who is sliding his hand under my hair to curl around my neck.

He pulls me close. “Anything. What do you want?”

“I want to know what happened tonight.”

“I found Luke.”

* * *

The thunderstorm rolls in just as we leave Redemption.

I haven’t been able to speak since I sat with Tag and Ray in the café and heard how Ray had managed to track Luke down using only the details I’d given him and the name that had slipped off my tongue. Of course he went to Tag to verify his information. And somewhere along the way, they had decided justice should be done and they would do it together, with Tag disguised and on lookout because of the risk to his job and Ray throwing all the punches. Justice was done, and they were pretty sure he was still alive.

Pretty
sure.

Ray wraps his leather jacket around me, but after fifteen minutes on his bike, we’re both soaked through, and with no sign of the rain letting up, he pulls off the main road and into an alley behind a fancy hotel. After parking his bike beside a Dumpster, he leads me to the protected alcove of the emergency exit. A mouse scurries away from a pile of old clothing in the corner, and the scent of stale piss and alcohol makes my nose wrinkle.

Ray places our helmets in a dry corner and then pulls a bandanna from his jacket pocket to wipe my face. Pat. Pat. Pat. His touch is so gentle that I know he is feeling guilty for making me wet. But dammit, he should be feeling guilty for a hell of a lot more.