Slam: A Bad Boy Romance (9 page)

Not a chance in hell.

Even with the promise I made to stay clear from the ring, my adrenaline had already begun to pump the moment the Macro called me out.

Violence had been my only lust.

But, Cadence had begun to fill its place, every piece of her was worth tasting, worth drowning in.

She started a fire inside I couldn't put out.

Gripping the neck of my shirt, I pulled it over my head and tossed it to the side. Steel grunted, his vocalization sounded more animalistic than human.

I couldn't help but laugh. When the chuckle rolled from my lips, the Macro shot a glance at me as he slid between the ropes. Kicking my sneakers off, my bare feet hit the cold surface.

It was dejavu, bringing me back to my roots, to that day, that time; the one I had tried so hard to forget.

Shaking my head vigorously, I pushed the images from my mind.
I need to be here. Right here-right now. There's no time for that shit.

The bell sounded, my eyes frozen on Steel. His hands held up, palms open. I watched him move, every limb and where it was.

His feet hit the thin pad below, crossing over each other slowly. A thick scar tapered across his chest, muscles contracting as he inched towards me.

I was going to let him come to me, I never go in first.

“Afraid, asshole?” Steel said. The raspy growl was faint beneath the energy surrounding us.

“Not in the least.” My hand came up and gestured for him to come in, make his move.

His face contorted, eyes glazed over. A loud snarl escaped his breath as he charged me, arms stretched out, aiming for my throat.

This guy was bulky, moving awkwardly across the ring, running at me like a drunken gorilla.

Quickly, I slapped his arms away, sliding a foot out to trip him. Steel hit the ground, the mat vibrated from his weight.

His face turned a bright shade of red, eyes popping out with rage. Pushing up from the floor, he wiped the debris off his arms, a mix of dirt and old flesh.

I wasn't supposed to be here, I wasn't supposed to ever step foot into a ring again.

Yet, here I was, staring down the barrel of a gun, holding it to my own head.

Outside, I was fighting with this man; inside, my own demons clawed to be set free, tearing at the surface with the intent to hurt.

Steel let out a gut wrenching howl, his head cocked back as he charged, one fist pulled back, ready to strike.

Dodging his blow, I buried my knee into his stomach. His yell was muted as the air was driven from his lungs. My elbow quickly followed, connecting with the back of his head. The deafening crack silenced the onlookers, hushed mouths dropped to the floor.

Steel fell hard. As he pressed himself up, my heel drove into his face. Gripping his nose, blood poured from behind his fingers.

I wanted to step back, let him climb to his feet.

But, I didn't.

As he rolled to his back, I leaped onto his chest, my fists raining down on him. One after the other, all the pent up rage and hatred I've felt over the years was thrown onto this one man.

It felt like I was looking at myself from inside a soundproof box. Trying to stop myself, I screamed as loudly as I could, but heard nothing.

His arms fell limp, body still; and my fists continued to fall. The color red glowed from behind my lids, deafening thuds impinging my ears.

A set of hands fell over my shoulder, gripping tightly. The voice a murmur at first, began to fill my ear. “He's out! He's out! Stop!”

My chest heaved, the painful oxygen filled my lungs. Each rib cracked beneath the pressure, my heart pounding so heavily it radiated through my bones.

Looking up, Cadence stood beside me. Her hand was shaking against my shoulder, eyes gazing down on me as wide as the moon.

Lifting to my feet, I peered down at Steel. The man now unrecognizable, bloody and battered. I couldn't believe what had happened.

I lost control, lost sense of myself. I dismissed my rational thoughts to let him up, to let him regain himself. My primal being took over, all my anger was pushed onto him.

Shrugging her off my shoulder, my head hung low and I stormed out of the ring. Walking swiftly towards the door, a mirror hung on the wall. My reflection caught my eye as I passed by.

Droplets of blood spattered my skin, trails ran down my chest. Bringing my hands up, painted in red, the warmth had faded to a crusting chill.

Who's the monster here?

Look at me! I'm a reflection of my past.

The image sent a shock wave through my body, chills ran down my spine. Glancing around, I spotted a bottle of water on the bar. Wrapping my swollen fingers around the plastic, I poured the cold liquid over my face.

I wanted to clean my flesh, wash the entire world away, and all my memories with it.

That night from two years ago, the phone call that woke my hung over brain, washed over me. The words refilling my ears as if I just heard them for the first time.

“He's gone, Quinn. He's gone.”

Cadence stormed up next to me. “What the hell was that? Were you trying to kill him?” Her hands flew wildly around, the high pitch crashing into my ears.

“What? No!” I yelled, my fingers forcefully dragged down over my face.

“Quinn, he was out long before I stopped you! What the fuck were you thinking?”

Letting my head fall back, the wet skin now a glistening mix of water and sweat. “I'm not supposed to fight. I shouldn't have even gone in there.” The words soft, falling off my tongue with the weight of a feather, as if I was only talking to myself.

“No, you shouldn't have. I knew you were just like everyone else, a fucking dick trying to make sure he has the biggest balls.” Her lashing tongue sliced through me.

“I wasn't going to let your father think I'm some fluke! He wants to call me out in front of everyone- in front of you!” Throwing the bottle to the floor, I turned to leave, and escape the hole I had crawled into.

Cadence followed, her feet just one step behind mine. “Who cares about my dad! You don't need to prove anything. If you shouldn't be fighting, then why the hell did you get in there to begin with?”

I wanted to tell her, explain my past, what I'd been through, and who I gave my life to for a promise.

But it didn't matter, not any more.

Huffing under my breath, I pressed on, throwing open the door to the street. The brisk air slapped my chest, the cold ground felt like needles under my feet, making me realize I had forgotten my clothing.

“Here, asshole!” The whip of fabric and thump of sneakers hit my back. “You might want these. I knew you couldn't be different. Go on, walk away, run far away from here.”

The sharp tone forced into my head, and in that instant all I wanted to do was to kiss her. Make the poison of her mouth feel my lips, taste my tongue.

She thought I was an asshole, her piercing eyes stabbing into my chest. She was ice against my heart.

And yet, it beat harder, pumped stronger.

“You don't understand.” Lifting my fist, I punched the building. “Fuck! Why did he have to do that?” My hair fell into my face, a brush of my hand forced it back.

Grumbling beneath my breath, the intense throbbing of my fingers came into my senses, the pain setting in, as my adrenaline slowed.

Folding her arms across her chest, she stepped closer. “Let me see.” Her delicate hand reaching out.

“I'm fine.”

“That wasn't an option, let me see,” she said sternly. Her fingers tightly pulled my wrist out, rolling it under the light from the street. “Come on.”

Turning towards a door on the building, she yanked it open. Nodding her head to follow, she stood in the dim glow. I couldn't help but notice how her features looked softer.

Her brows twisted toward her forehead, the frozen glare now melted with concern. “Come on.” Her need to help hovered between her annoyance and frustration.

Holding my hand, I followed her in. We walked through a narrow hallway and up an old rickety set of stairs. Stopping at a door with the number thirty, the three dangled sideways, held on by one tack. Pulling a set of keys from her pocket, she popped open the door.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“My house. Come on in.” She flicked on a light and walked into the first door on her left.

“You live right above the ring? Isn't that convenient?” I said, while opening and closing my hand, wriggling my fingers.

She poked her head out from the doorway, hair hanging over her shoulder, framing her face perfectly. “Funny,” she said. “Go sit at the table so I can check your hand.” Her crystal blue eyes guided me in the direction I needed to go.

Sitting down, I glanced around the apartment. A small place, run down, and worn. There were pictures lining one wall, a dark green sofa divided the kitchen and living room. It was tiny, but homey.

Her feet patted against the wood floor. Turning the corner, her image was radiating. A tight pink halter top squeezed her tits up, her dark blue jeans wrapped around her curves perfectly.

What is it going to take to have this woman? I want to fuck her so badly it hurts!

Cadence dragged another chair over, pulling herself in close. “Give me your hand.” The softness of her skin against my fingers made my cock rigid, the events from the night fading away as she stroked my hand.

The blood pumped down fast into my shaft, tip swelling beyond its limit. I needed her cunt, needed to feel it wrapped around me.

Shifting in the chair, my free hand pushed against the stiffening member. Her eyes drifted down, and shot back to my hand.

Her skin was gleaming in a flushed, pink hue. Inhaling a lump of air, the apple floated down her neck as she gulped.

Licking my lips, I asked, “Like what you see?” Biting down hard, my brow curved.

Glaring up at me under hooded lids, her lips pursed tight. “Hold still.” She lifted each finger, bending them at the knuckle.

“Ahh.” The word hissed through my teeth. A jolt of lightening shot up my arm.

“You're lucky, nothings broken.” She brought the white wrap to my palm and started twining it around.

“Do I get a lollipop for being good?” My almond eyes peered at her, a crooked grin seeped over my jaw.

Glaring up at me, she said, “Tell me something.”

“Anything, ask away.”

“You said you're not supposed to fight, why?” Her fingers slid gently across my hand, drawing me in, making me crave her even deeper.

Wrinkles fell across my forehead, jaw cocked back. “That's not something I like talking about.” My stomach began to turn, twisting like hot plastic under a torch.

“I just don't understand. You're obviously good at it, and seem to enjoy it.” Clasping the bandage together, her hands fell into her lap.

“It's just... a promise I made a long time ago.” Bringing my hand up, I stared at the bright white wrap.

I haven't talked about that day since I left home and came here. Am I ready to?

Am I ready to share the pain I've carried, the weight I've bared for so long?

“Look, I'm just trying to understand. Your eyes were empty when you were on top of Steel, your head was someplace else.” Her hand drifted over her hair, fingers running through the thick mane.

Taking a long solemn breath, I fidgeted with the bandage. Maybe I should have just spit it out, told her everything about what happened to me, and why I wasn't supposed to fight. 

Why I wasn't supposed to set foot back in the ring.

It would have been easier for me to walk out that door, stomp down those stairs and disappear into the night. Except, that's not how I work.

I don't run, I don't hide.

Or do I?

I've hid from what I loved, the fighting. Only to get my fix in small brawls at a bar, or on the street. The one thing that truly ran through my veins and fueled my existence, I've left in the shadows; until now.

Until her.

She's been running through me since day one. That same shot of adrenaline hits every muscle when I'm around Cadence.

And it's fucking incredible.

On pure impulse, I lifted my hand to her cheek, softly I grazed my fingers down her skin. 

My gaze fixed on the precious stones of her eyes.

Her lips parted, a breath of air escaped where she looked like she wanted to speak.

But her silence never breached.

Tightening my grip around the base of her neck, I pulled her in, pressing my lips forcefully against hers. Caressing the inside of her mouth, our tongues danced with desire.

I'm making her mine. No more bull-shit, I'm fucking her right now.

My cock pressed painfully against my jeans, her touch thickening my erection. The throbbing of my hand fading with each gentle twist of her tongue.

Pulling her onto my lap, her hands dug into my shoulders. “This is dangerous you know,” she whispered, arching her back as she ground herself down.

Swaying her hips over my hard dick, her body moved erotically, rocking back and forth. Heavy breaths falling from her lips spread across my ear. My hands followed the fabric of her shirt, hitting the edge, I tickled up her back.

A soft gasp escaped with raw need, her body becoming rigid, as goosebumps emerged over her skin. Her breasts lifted towards my face with the air struggling to find her lungs.

“I've been waiting patiently, but I can't wait anymore.” I hissed into her ear, running my tongue across the edge, a long drawn out moan spilled from inside her.

I pulled her in tight, trying to merge our bodies into one. My palms walked up her shoulder blades, the bare flesh dampening with desire.

Finding the tie to her shirt, I tugged it free. Her shirt fell from her neck, exposing the soft pink of her nipples.

Dragging my tongue over her chest, down through her ribs, I pressed her tits together. Twirling over her hard nipples, her body became static.

The live wire before me, skin hot to the touch, had fire burning between her thighs.

Gyrating against me, her nails dug deep into my scalp, tearing at the roots. Bringing my teeth to her shoulder, I dragged them over her flesh, her body quivered against my chest.

Ripping at the button of her pants, her hands swiftly clenched mine. “Not here,” she muttered out, the words mostly composed of air.