Savage: A Bad Boy Fighter Romance (6 page)

I
’m
like an eager goddamn puppy as I wait in my cell for my treat.

My knuckles are unwrapped and I took off the compression shorts, opting for another pair of shorts that doesn’t cut off my damn circulation in all the places it matters. I haven’t put on a shirt because... well, it’s not like I don’t know what I look like. I saw Adrienne’s gaze track over my muscles the first time she saw me, and I bet she liked seeing them today.

Got to give the crowd what it wants, right?

But the longer I wait, the more nervous I get. This has never happened before. I don’t
get
nervous. I don’t think I’ll lose, I don’t worry and I don’t fucking fret. So why am I standing in the middle of my cell, considering pacing back and forth and losing my mind at the same time.

What if she doesn’t like me?

What am I, a teenager? Fucking hell.

I slick a hand through my hair, the minutes ticking by endlessly. I’m beginning to think that someone’s playing a fucking joke on me, that Cobb’s gone back on his word - which wouldn’t be surprising, he isn’t exactly the epitome of fairness – or that something’s happened to her, when I finally hear footsteps. Two sets.

I let out a long breath, flexing my fingers again like I always do when I feel the narrow edge of something unknown coming for me. The locks are undone one by one and when the door opens, my face fells.

It’s Sage.

“Hey, buttercup,” I greet him dully, but I shut up a moment later as I see Adrienne peeking out from behind him.

“Hey, you,” I add, a hell of a lot softer.

She doesn’t say a word but raises her hand slightly, moving her fingers timidly. Fuck, she’s cute.

Sage just quirks up a brow and allows Adrienne to pass. She steps into the room gingerly, looking behind herself for a moment.

“Memphis, you have to be fast. I have to have her back in twenty,” Sage says.

Before I can launch into a volley of objections, Sage slams the door shut and sets up the deadbolts. I’m fuming, my eyes narrowing slightly, but it’s no use. I bet it’s Cobb again, fucking around. He knows as well as I do that not much can be accomplished with twenty minutes – at least not when I’m the one doing it.

Okay.

Another thing I can’t change. Fine. Lemons out of lemonade.

My expression clears as I look at Adrienne. She’s petite, sweet. Honey-blond hair falling in waves over her shoulders and bright blue eyes marked with so much sadness that I want to do whatever I can to make her feel better. Her pouty lips are slightly parted as she stares at me, like I’m some sort of apparition, but I see her gaze rowing over my abs, my arms, my pecs.

I’m not sure if she’s shocked by the tattoos or just the fact that we’re here together, but she seems to be as tongue-tied as I am. I’ve kept all her letters and I wait for every word from her. It’s silly, in a way, because we can never pass notes that are too long – I don’t have the paper for it and I don’t want to reuse her notes to send them back – and my room gets searched periodically for any contraband. Still, I feel like I know this girl and she knows me.

I open my mouth to say something but no words come out. I shake my head and she smiles slightly, obviously feeling much the same. How stupid is it that it was easier to talk to her when good old Sage was in the room, rather than now that we don’t have any distractions?

I can’t take it much longer.

Her body calls to me and I take a breath. In two steps, I’ve covered the distance between us and she stutters backwards a step as my hands wrap around her small but curvy body. She feels fucking fantastic, wearing an aquamarine dress that accentuates her body in all the right ways. I slide a hand up her back as I stare down at her eyes, smiling now.

“Hey,” I say again.

“Hey,” she answers back hesitantly.

I kiss her.

She gasps into my mouth and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. I have to rein myself in, because I want to devour her like she’s ice cream on a hot, sunny day. I take it slow, tasting her lips and then slipping my tongue into her mouth. I’m not sure if she’s ever kissed before – I never asked – but she molds to my touch perfectly.

Her body responds just like I need it to, pressing against me, her hands on my broad, bare chest. I don’t know if she can feel my heart beating a mile a minute, but it is. My cock twitches in my shorts and I can feel her jerk away from it for a moment, before pressing herself closer a second later.

She likes this.

I can’t help but feel proud. You could take my ninety-six victories away from me right now and I wouldn’t give a shit because I’ve just scored the best win of my life.

I growl into her mouth and she moans softly as I kiss her harder, walking her back against the door. Goose bumps pimple on her skin as the cold metal touches her and I nip at her lower lip, catching it between my teeth. She tastes like honey and chocolate and
freedom
. Good things. I can’t get enough of her.

I move one hand lower to cup her ass and she squirms, rubbing her thighs together.

“Is this too much, sugar?” I ask, willing her to say no.

She just shakes her head, her lips already puffy and her eyes hazy with need.

I want to give her the world. I can’t yet, but I can give her something that feels almost as good.

Slowly, keeping her pinned between my strong body and the door, I slip my hand down the folds of her thin dress. She stammers another sigh as my fingertips brush over her perky tits, staying there only for a moment to pinch one of her nipples through the fabric. Adrienne yelps and I grin, kissing her again, letting her moan into my mouth.

Oh, I’m going to love this.

My hand gets down to the hem of her dress and my rough fingers touch the soft, silky skin of her pale thighs. She shudders beautifully and I let my hand move upward, palm facing up, tracing a line up her thigh until I can feel her heat. Her gorgeous blue eyes shoot wide open and she looks up at me, some unsaid prayer on her lips, but I hush her.

“I’ll play nice, sugar,” I promise, and I mean it.

This might be the first fucking time I want someone to get off this badly. I want her to smile, I want her to cry out in ecstasy in my arms. I want to see that.

I push my palm flush against her pussy, covered only by a pair of thin panties, and she gasps, gripping my biceps. Her short nails dig into my flesh as I rub up and down a few times, moving to kiss a line along her neck at the same time. I love the way she whimpers and grinds into my hand, the way her whole body is shuddering with every touch of my hand, my lips.

She’s so wet, I can feel it through the panties. She needs this as much as I need to give it to her. Losing my patience, I grab hold of the fabric and rip, making her yelp as the seams come undone and I toss the ruined panties aside. I find her mouth again and shove my tongue in her mouth and she sucks on it eagerly as I press two fingers against her slit, swimming in her juices.

I roll my thumb over her clit and it’s like she’s been hit by an electric shock, jolting against me. But she has nowhere to run. I have her exactly where she wants to be.

Slowly, I insert both of the fingers, just the tips at first. She’s gasping for air, her eyes rolling back in her head as I consume her mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” I ground out, and she doesn’t have to tell me what I already know.

She’s a virgin.

I pull one finger out while allowing the other to go deeper, gently, slowly. At the same time, I tease her clit, rubbing it and flicking it as I work my finger in and out of her. She’s moving up and down against the door with each bit of motion, rocked by lust. Her mouth keeps finding mine, demanding for more, and I’m happy to give it.

“Memphis,” she mutters as she clings to me, and I swear it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve heard.

“That’s it,” I tell her, shoving my other finger in her as well. “Say my name.”

“Memphis!” she whines, her knees buckling, but I don’t let her fall, I don’t let her collapse.

I keep her right there with my hand in her sweet pussy, fingerfucking her as she chants my name.

“Say it,” I ground out, kissing her neck, tearing her dress aside to reveal one of her breasts.

I push down the cup and suck her pink, rosy nipple into my mouth. It puckers immediately. Fuck, I want to bury my cock in that tight, desperately hot pussy so badly, but I won’t. Not today.

“Memphis!” she screams as I scissor my fingers in her and bite her nipple, my tongue swirling over it.

I can feel her entire body spasm and rock as the orgasm washes over her like the tide. She’s jerking and shuddering and I keep her there, pinned, safe in my hands. My fingers don’t stop teasing her for a second, working her through her release.

When she finally collapses, completely spent, I release her nipple from my mouth. Casually, I right her bra and her dress and then move up to kiss her lightly on her lips. I’m grinning like a fool and she’s a tousled, sexy mess looking up at me.

The fuck is this woman doing to me.

“Hey,” I echo again, and the smile she gives me this time is damn near radiant.

“Hey,” Adrienne replies, her voice a sweet sigh.

“I was beginning to think I made you up,” I tell her, pumping my fingers into her one more time and being rewarded with a groan for it.

“Why?” she asks, the tiniest hint of confusion flitting over her blissful expression.

“Angels don’t come around here often,” I say, and she grins.

Then, I hear footsteps coming up along the hallway and I growl out of frustration. For a moment there, I hope that they’ll pass, but I know they won’t. I pull my fingers out of her and she lurches forward from the sudden loss. Keeping her on her feet, I gently pull her away from the door.

“We’re not done here, sugar,” I tell her, and then peck her on the lips as I brush her now messed up hair out of her face.

She jolts away from me the moment the first locks come undone, righting her dress and fussing with her appearance. I just stand there, sporting an impressively painful boner – knowing that she’s going to leave is not doing much to ease my frustration – and watching her.

Sage opens the door and our eyes meet. I think he’s almost apologetic, but it might also be that he’s hungry. Can never tell with that guy.

“Come on, time to go, Miss,” he says, and with obvious reluctance, Adrienne nods.

“Bye, Memphis,” she practically whispers, pausing at the door.

“This isn’t good bye,” I tell her.

She gives me a hopeful look and I memorize her, standing there, mussed up and gorgeous. Sage shakes his head and I swear he rolls his eyes slightly as he closes the door and locks it.

I stalk over to the bed, picking up Adrienne’s discarded panties on my way there, and fall down on it like a bag of rocks.

I don’t think a lifetime of jerking off is going to get me any less frustrated than I am right now. But her juices on my fingers and the scent of her sweet pussy certainly helps.

T
hat night
, I fall asleep with my heart beating fast and my mind spinning.

I can’t believe what I just let Memphis do. And I can’t believe just how much I enjoyed it.

I can’t sleep at all. My mind keeps going back to the moments we spent together, the way he held me, the way he made me come. I’ve never known pleasure like that beyond my own fingers, and I crave so much more from the man I thought was a monster.

When I finally fall asleep, it’s well past four in the morning, and my stomach is filled with butterflies when I think of Memphis. My dreams revolve around him, and the next morning, I wake up with a smile firmly plastered on my face.

All morning, I wait anxiously for Hannah to arrive, hoping she’ll bring a new letter from Memphis with her. When she finally appears with my breakfast, I nearly jump out of bed in an effort to get to her.

“Calm down, Miss,” she tells me with a small smile. “You’ll fall over and break something if you’re not more careful!”

I giggle, and briefly wonder just how long it’s been since the last time I did that. I don’t think I’ve even laughed five times since my father passed away. My hopeful eyes go to Hannah’s, and she seems to know what I want right away as her face lights up with a smile.

“I have something for you,” she says, putting down a tray with some coffee, juice, and fresh croissants. Cobb may be a monster, but he does take good care of me here, even if I am a prisoner.

I push those thoughts aside as my eyes focus on the small piece of paper on the tray Hannah brought. I look at her for confirmation, and she gives me a small nod before leaving the room. I can hardly wait before opening the piece of paper, my eyes drinking in his words.

Adrienne,

I can’t believe I finally got to feel you. Hold you in my hands. Hear you gasp. Make you moan.

We’re going to need to do that again. Plenty of times.

I had a dream about you tonight. It was strange - my parents were there as well. I felt like I was so close to understanding my past, but so far at the same time.

I wish there was a way to make my memory better. To help me remember how I became the man I am today.

I hope you are well, Adrienne. I need to see you soon. After last night, I hope you know you belong to me, not Cobb.

Memphis

My heart flutters at his words, and I clutch my chest with a silly smile on my face. He makes me feel like some lovestruck teenager, and I love it. It makes me forget about everything else that goes in this mansion, both under and above ground.

I ponder Memphis’ note while I eat my breakfast. He’s mentioned several times he’d like to regain memory about what happened in his past, and I think I may have a way to help him with that.

When I was a child, my father was known as the man who knew everyone and everything.

He kept notebooks upon notebooks of names, scribbles about people he’d met through his life. He often told me you never know when a connection might come in handy. And something tells me his notebooks might hide the answer to Memphis’ questions.

It’s a long shot, of that I am sure.

But from what Memphis has told me about his life before the basement, I’ve pieced together the story as best as I could.

His parents were killed by a man whom Memphis beat to death after the attack. After that, he became homeless, roaming the streets until he met Cobb. He agreed to his terms because he needed the money, needed a way to get out his nightmarish life.

But I think there was a reason that man attacked Memphis’ parents. And I think I might be able to find out what it is.

I decide to ask my mother where those books went when I get a chance, and spend the rest of the day writing the perfect note back to Memphis. I eat lunch alone in my room, but the dinner hour comes and passes with no sign from Hannah. I’m growing slightly worried, but finally, there’s a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I say timidly. Hannah’s knock is softer, and this one is determined and strong.

A guard opens the door, looking at me with lifeless eyes. My whole body stiffens, and I wait for him to deliver another blow. Having him here instead of Hannah can’t be a good sign… can it?

“You are going down to dinner with Mr. Cobb and your mother,” the guard tells me. “Get ready. You have one minute.”

I stare at him, unable to comprehend what he said. Ever since I’ve been in this mansion, I’ve been eating all my meals by myself. To have it change now feels a little strange.

“Thirty seconds,” the guard tells me.

I jump and run my fingers through my hair, putting on some sandals I left by my bed. Thankfully, I’m already dressed - though my outfit is just a casual dress, nothing special. Before I have a chance to object, the guard grabs my arm and drags me out into the hallway. Even if I dug my heels into the ground, I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

He half-drags, half-guides me down the stairs, into the large salon area. A large dining table is set up for three, with Cobb sitting at it and my mother at his side. A place awaits me, with perfectly laid out cutlery and soft classical music playing in the background.

The whole image makes bile rise in my throat. Here we are, the picture of a perfect family. Cobb, handsome as hell in his leisure suit, and my mother, stunningly fragile in a pretty dress, but painfully thin and pale. And then me, with my sullen expression and arms crossed protectively in front of my body.

The guard guides me to the table, practically pushing me down on my designated chair.

“Welcome,” Cobb greets me with a smile. “I thought it would be nice to have a little family dinner. Don’t you agree, sweet thing?”

My mother flinches at the term of endearment he uses for me, and so do I. I don’t even dare looking at her, too scared of showing Cobb I care. He would surely use it against me.

“Thank you,” I mumble in response, looking down at my plate.

My fish, potatoes and asparagus look perfectly fine, but awfully unappetizing to my eyes. I struggle to eat a morsel of the food someone prepared for us while Wilson starts yapping on about something inconsequential.

He tries to involve my mother and me in conversation, as if we really are a family. But having lived and known my father, I know full-well Cobb’s full of shit.

In the middle of dinner, we’re interrupted by a guard. Cobb fixes his snake eyes on him, and the guard looks worried as hell for having interrupted our family reunion.

“Business call, Sir,” he mutters to Cobb.

The man’s lip twitches in an angry way, but in the next moment, he’s the picture of politeness and professionalism once again. He dabs at the corner of his lips with a fabric napkin, sets it down on the table and grins at my mother and me.

“Excuse me for a moment, my beautiful ladies,” he tells us. “Duty calls.”

He leaves the room along with the guard, and my mother exhales, her whole body shaking as the man leaves the room.

“Mom,” I’m quick to say. “Are you alright? He hasn’t been hurting you, has he?”

She’s shaking her head, and she won’t stop. Her gaze is fixed on the table and I see tears in her eyes. She either can’t tell me, or she doesn’t want to. I reach for her hand on the table and she flinches away from my touch.

“It’s alright,” I tell her softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She raises those big doe eyes to meet mine and I see so much pain there - pain that was not there when my father passed away. Pain that Cobb put into her gaze. I hate him.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” my mother asks in a fake cheery voice. “Have you been holding up well? Are they taking good care of you?”

Her hopeful look makes me think she doesn’t know a thing about the dungeons, or me being offered as the prize to the winner of the fighting tournament. I swallow my words, not wanting to trouble my mother even more. I force a smile on my lips.

“Yes, mom, everything’s okay,” I tell her. “No one is hurting me.”

“Good.” She looks so relieved; it almost makes me glad I lied to her.

“Mom, I was wondering…” I start to say, sneaking a glance at her. “Do you have any of our stuff from the house? Could you get me something I needed if I asked you?”

She gives me a curious look, and I’m glad I asked. She needs a distraction, anything that makes her think of something other than Cobb.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” she asks me.

I inch closer to her, giving her a conspiratorial look.

“Remember those books dad had on people he’d met?” I ask her eagerly. “He used to keep notes of people he’d seen, talked to, or wanted to meet. I really need them for something.”

She looks curious, but doesn’t ask why I need the books.

“I’ll do my best,” she nods. “I don’t know whether I can actually do it, but I know where they are, and I’ll try to get them to you as soon as possible.”

“Thank you!” I move in to hug her when the door opens with a slam. We spring apart in fear, and our eyes go to the door where Wilson is standing in all his glory, his hands forming fists at his sides.

Not a good business call, I take it.

He approaches us like a predator, and both my mother and I shrink in our seats. I feel scared and helpless in his presence, and I wish he’d just leave us alone and take his anger out on some other poor soul. However, his eyes are zeroing in on my mother now, and he grabs a fistful of her hair, pulling her to her feet. I shriek, but he takes no notice of the sound I’m making.

“You filthy whore,” he insults my mother.

With one motion of his strong hands, he rips her dress down the middle. The fabric pools at her feet and I gasp when I see her body covered in cuts and bruises. My hand flies up to my mouth as I stare at my mother, more broken than ever.

She forces a smile on her lips as she looks at me, always trying to reassure me.

“It’s okay, darling,” she tells me softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

Wilson ignores her words and slams his fist into her face. I get up and scream at the top of my lungs and my mother stumbles backwards. I’m watching the scene unfold in shock and horror as Cobb approaches me next. If he did that to my mother, whom he’s been in love with for years, I’d rather not know what he’s going to do to me.

“Sweet thing, get up to your room,” he tells me with a grin. “You don’t need to see what’s next.”

Horrified, I stare at him. I need to stop this. I can’t let him treat my mother this way.

“Hit me,” I whisper.

He gives me a confused look.

“Hit me instead of her,” I add, bravely raising my head. “Don’t hurt my mom. Just take it out on me.”

Cobb approaches me like a snake getting ready to strike, his finger tipping my chin back like I’m some prize animal. He murmurs something to himself, his finger gently trailing down my lips onto my neck.

I close my eyes, trying to block everything out, but he barks for me to keep them open. His eyes are crazed as he strokes my face, my mother moaning behind him on the floor. Cobb’s free hand goes to the bulge in his pants, and with an almost detached disgust, I realize he’s getting turned on by this. Sick fuck.

“It’s not your turn yet, sweet thing,” he tells me, making my skin erupt in goosebumps. “Mother, then daughter. Wait for me, Adrienne.”

With that, he lets go off my face and shakes off the cruelty he just displayed. When he blinks, the face of a perfect gentleman is back and he goes to my mother with concern in his eyes, helping her get back up while cooing over her well-being.

I stare at him incredulously. He really is a psycho.

He escorts my broken mother out of the room and I can only watch them leave. A guard comes to pick me up soon after, guiding me back to my room.

That night, I dream of Memphis again.

But this time, I dream of Cobb taking him away from me, just like he did with my parents.

* * *

I
wake
up to the sound of my door clicking shut. Opening my eyes, I realize it’s too early for breakfast, so I wonder who was just in my room. As my eyes come into focus, I notice a small stack by the foot of my bed, wrapped in paper.

Curiously, I reach for it and unwrap the wrapping.

Familiar images come into focus, and I soon realize it’s a stack of my father’s notebooks. A smile takes over my face and I clutch the books to my chest.

“Mom, I don’t know how you did it,” I whisper to myself. “But thank you.”