Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance) (15 page)

“Well? Was she right?” She edged closer and walked her
fingertips up his chest. “Are you a big scaredy cat?”

“I’m not scared of anything. I’ll see you in the
bedroom.” Pacing down the hall he glanced over his shoulder, as if he still
couldn’t believe she was there, offering to fulfill his kinkiest sexual
fantasy. He dragged the coatrack into the bedroom and shut the door. Hmmm. This
was going to be an interesting night.

Frankie was pleasantly surprised that the bathroom
didn’t reek of male sweat or moldy towels. She took a deep breath and stared
into the mirror. She could do it. She could put him in his place and get
control of the situation.

With a snap of her fingers she removed the mask and
splashed her face with cold water. This was going to be one night Black Jack
Hudson would never forget.

She secured the mask back in place in case he didn’t
follow orders and wasn’t sprawled face down on his bed. The last thing she
needed was Jack discovering her true identity. She hated to think how he’d use
that to his advantage. He knew Frankie was easily intimidated by his sexual
power. Tatianna on the other hand…

Grabbing her bag of tricks, she opened the bathroom
door and strutted down the hall. She took one last fortifying breath and flung
open the bedroom door.

The glow from a full moon illuminated his bedroom
through wind-blown curtains. Her gaze drifted from the beautiful wooden rocker
by the window to the oak dresser piled high with books, and finally settled on
the four-poster bed. She noticed a candle burning on his nightstand.

“You’ve still got your mask on,” he said from the king
size bed. His hands were folded behind his head, his long legs stretched out
and crossed at the ankles.

“And you’re not lying the way I told you to.”

“I can’t see your gorgeous body if I’m facedown.”

Uh oh. He’s waking up.

“This isn’t about seeing. It’s about feeling.”
Slipping a silk scarf out of her bag, she ambled toward him. No going back now.

“Roll over, cowboy.” She traced the scarf across his
chest and noticed his breath quicken. He reached for her but she stepped back,
keeping a steady balance on her spiked heels.

“This is my game, remember?” she said. “Consider it my
way of thanking you for saving my life tonight.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Well, if you won’t roll over I’ll have to improvise.”
She ran the scarf along the curve of her palm.

“Take off your mask.”

“Patience, cowboy.”

She kicked off her shoes, grabbed a second scarf from
her bag and tucked it into her pantywaist. In one fluid movement, she climbed
on top of him and straddled his hips. She slipped one of the scarves around his
eyes and tied it behind his head.

“I didn’t know you were that kind of girl,” he
mumbled, reaching for her.

She grabbed his wrists before he could touch her. He
didn’t resist, didn’t fight to get his advantage back.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.
But after tonight…” She bound his wrists, securing them to the bedpost. “You’ll
know it all.”

“Uh…Tatianna?”

“Shhh. Trust me.”

“But—”

“Do I have to gag you, too?”

She traced her hands across his chest down to his
ribs, ribs she’d heard had been bruised and broken on more than one occasion.
The heat from his skin burned her fingertips.

This was more fun than she’d imagined. It had to be
the power, she thought, as she slid her hands lower, edging her fingers beneath
the waistband of his sweatpants. Her hands met with bare flesh, and she
suddenly wanted something she couldn’t name. She grasped his firm butt and gave
it a squeeze, then trailed feather-light kisses across his abdomen. God, he
tasted sinful.

And delicious.

“What’s your real name?” he rasped.

“Shhh.” A few more minutes and she’d have him. She’d
make her way down his body, past his muscular thighs and injured knee, down to
bind his ankles.

But first she’d squeeze him tight between her legs and
press a gentle kiss to his lips. She leaned forward and felt him shift to press
his manhood against her. Her heart leapt in her throat. He wanted her. This
magnificent specimen of a male wanted Frankie McGee. Or was it Tatianna he
wanted?

With desperate fingers she squeezed his pectoral
muscles and pushed against him with her hips. A moan rumbled against his throat
and she responded by kissing him. A long, needy kiss that nearly made her
forget why she’d come here in the first place.

He pulled on his bindings as if wanting to free
himself, then suddenly went still. She broke the kiss and glanced at him. His
chest heaved as he struggled for breath. His mouth was still partially open.
She leaned forward again.

“No,” he said, as if he sensed her closing in for
another kiss.

“No, what?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can.” She ran her index finger across his
lips and tried to ease it inside. Man, what was happening to her?

“Please...stop.”

His plea pierced her heart dead center. He didn’t want
to do this. If he didn’t want to make love to the Tantalizing Tatianna he sure
as hell wouldn’t want to make love to Frankie the Fussbudget.

She wanted him to want Tatianna, or Frankie. Hell, she
wanted him to want all of her.

No, she didn’t. This was a game, a trick to knock him
down a peg or two.

“Tatianna?”

She climbed off of him and collected her things,
shoving her spare scarf into the bag. She slipped on her shoes, choking back
humiliation and unfulfilled desire.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why?” The word slipped out. She clutched the leather
purse against her chest.

“Don’t get me wrong—you’re a nice girl.”

“Sure, all nice girls tie you up and jump you.”

“Don’t take it personally. It has nothing to do with
you.”

“Great. So it’s another woman, then?”

“No—Yes—I don’t know. I shouldn’t have
asked you up here. It was a mistake.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” She stumbled
toward the door.

The bedpost squeaked as he struggled to pull free of
the restraints. “Listen, wait, it’s my fault, okay? I’m sorry. I’m messed up
right now. You’re a nice kid. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

Kid. He called her a kid.

“Tatianna?”

Standing in the doorway, she studied his glorious body
illuminated by a shaft of moonlight. Something hot and cold unfurled in her
belly, a kind of wanting she’d only read about in books. A kind of wanting that
drove a person crazy, out of her mind.

A kind of wanting she didn’t welcome in her
well-ordered life.

“Tatianna?” He strained against the headboard as if
trying to hear if she was still in the room.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

He didn’t ask her to untie him and she didn’t dare
offer. She knew he’d chase her down and demand they talk this out. The man
pitied her.

How pathetic.

“Come on, sweetheart, talk to me,” he whispered into
the darkness.

She spun on her heel and fled, snatching her raincoat
off the living room floor. Escaping the condo, she paused at the landing,
kicked off her shoes and raced down the stairs.

Only when she was safely behind the wheel of the car
heading for her temporary home at the Residence Inn did she let tonight’s
disaster sink in.

She’d been crazed with lust, offering her body to a
man in the most visceral way. And he’d turned her down. Flat.

Thank God. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of what
she’d done and how far the game had spun out of control. She’d only meant to
put him in his place. Instead she’d been driven by a sexual appetite she didn’t
know she had, only to be humiliated. He rejected her, found her undesirable,
which should make her ecstatic. Now she could get back to her normal life and
focus on her future with Bradley.

That is if she could wipe the image of a half-naked
Black Jack Hudson from her mind and the taste of him from her lips.

***

“Take it easy, man. You’re gonna kill yourself,”
warned Jack’s trainer, Mick Edwards.

“Twenty more,” Jack demanded from his prone position
on the bench press.

“You’re overdoing it.”

Jack glared at him. Mick shook his head and slid a
twenty-pound weight onto each side of the barbell.

Jack wrapped his gloved hands two feet apart on the
metal and gritted his teeth. One. Two. Three.

By rep ten he was groaning like a branded cow. He was
into serious pain today and couldn’t trust himself around the guys. They didn’t
deserve the punishment. He did.

For being stupid. For being insensitive. For being a
complete jerk.

What the hell is
the matter with you? The girl knew why she’d been summoned and was more than
willing to fulfill her part of the bargain
.

But somewhere between the limousine warfare with the
Franken Niece and the midnight rendezvous with Cat Woman, Jack had grown an
overwhelming conscience.

Sure, he’d worked hard to develop a reputation for
being a hard-ass, a womanizer, a loner. A reputation he used to shield himself
from women like his ex-wife. He wouldn’t let a seductive and manipulative woman
worm her way into his life again. The best way to protect himself was to make
it known that if any female came too close he’d unleash a burning passion that
would leave her smoldering. There was no place in his life for a permanent
relationship, not as long as he was with WHAK. Once he cut his ties with the
traveling circus he’d reconsider, maybe even find the perfect mate, one who
liked to go with the flow, explore new things and embrace the uncertainties of
life. Yet he knew most women liked money and needed plenty of attention.
Carving out his new life wouldn’t afford him much time for either. Besides,
it’s not like he had time for romantic entanglements.

Romantic entanglement? What the hell was he thinking?
He’d sworn off those for good, or at least until he was well into his new life.
Fleeting trysts were more his style these days.

If that were true, why hadn’t he enjoyed himself last
night? Let the cat lady have her way with him so he could brag about her sharp
fangs and pleasuring tongue?

His arms shook as he groaned and pushed the barbell up
one last time.

“Free weights,” he demanded, setting the barbell in
place.

Mick brought him the equipment without protest.

A trickle of sweat beaded down Jack’s chest, reminding
him of Tiger Lady’s tantalizing lips. Damn, he hadn’t felt that kind of need since…

Since earlier that afternoon in the limo with the
Franken Niece.

“Come on, Mick,” he snapped at his trainer.

No, it couldn’t be. Jack couldn’t be even remotely
interested in Sully’s repressed little niece who loved snapping him around like
a dog on choke collar.

He gripped a dumbbell in each hand and started the
first set of reps. He struggled to focus on his task. Five. Six. Seven.

Women. They were master manipulators. He’d been around
enough fawning females to learn that lesson, and Sandra had been the final
exam. An exam he’d failed miserably.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve. He gritted his teeth. Okay, so he
wasn’t a rocket scientist but he had enough street smarts not to make the same
mistake twice. Street smarts that spelled Frankie McGee’s name I-N-S-A-N-I-T-Y.

“Uh-oh. Trouble’s coming,” Mick muttered.

Jack figured Tatianna had arrived, dressed in feathers
and fluff, probably wanting to deck him for rejecting her last night. Instead,
Sully’s beady eyes stared down at him.

“What?” Sitting up, Jack placed the dumbbells on the
floor.

“Wanted to check on my best man.” He slapped Jack on
the shoulder.

“Cut the act. What do you want?” He grabbed a towel
and wiped sweat from the back of his neck.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Needed to fill you in on a
couple of things. Minor, very minor.”

“Which usually means trouble.”

Sully giggled and tugged on the knot of his tie.
“You’ll be happy to know the marriage isn’t valid since you never got a license
or blood tests, all that technical stuff. Though you have to admit it’s a great
angle.” Sully grinned.

Jack clenched his jaw and waited, glaring at the
promoter.

Sully cleared his throat. “Yes, well, a car will take
you to Sterling Falls today for a signing at the mall. It’s a big week-end
there, the annual corn festival. We’ve got a show set up for next week at the
Marshall Arena some thirty miles away. Your visit should help sell out the
house, only…” Sully chewed at his lower lip.

Jack stood, towering over Sully by a good six inches
“Out with it.”

“You’re going alone.”

“Without my wife?”

“Um, well...”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” He went for the knot of his tie again,
a sure sign he was lying to Jack’s face.

“We were supposed to go together,” Jack said, wanting
to patch it up with the tigress. Hell, if they were going to pull off this
pretend man-and-wife thing for the next six months they needed to have an
understanding between them. Besides, she wasn’t so bad, and he felt like a jerk
about last night.

He wanted to make amends.

“You’re on your own,” Sully said. “I don’t know what
happened to Tatianna. She’s sick, yes, that’s it. She called in sick. A virus,
bacterial thing, the flu, I mean chicken pox. Very contagious. Couldn’t have
her coming to work.”

“My fans expect me to show up with my wife.”

“Your wife, right, well—”

“Cut the crap. Where is she?”

“At her place I suppose, nursing her head cold, I mean
the flu, chicken pox. Anyway, you’re going alone. The car will be waiting for
you outside at noon. The signing’s at three.” Sully backed away.

“Freeze,” Jack ordered. “What’s really going on?”