“Your friendly Redemption doctor at your service.” Doctor Death smiles when I walk into the first aid room, still rattled from my conversation with Zack. “Where may I put my hands on you?”
My heart sinks the tiniest bit. I was hoping to see Makayla for advice as well as a chat. No one understands Torment like she does, and she’s always good for a heart-to-heart. “How about a little professionalism?”
“I’m always professional,” he huffs. “Doesn’t mean I don’t get to enjoy it.”
“No hands today.” I sit up on his examination bed. “I have a question. Would jiu-jitsu be considered ‘light exercise’ for someone with a concussion?”
“No.”
I mock a frown. “That’s not the answer I wanted to hear.”
Doctor Death laughs. “I thought you wanted professionalism.”
“I want to take the jiu-jitsu class tonight.”
“Hmm.” He pulls out a little flashlight and shines it in my eye. “Follow the light.”
I do as he asks, and then he gently squeezes my head. “Bump gone?”
“Yes.”
“Anything show up on the CT scan?”
“No. The emergency room doctor said even the four-day light exercise plan was probably not necessary, but he suggested it out of an abundance of caution, given I was doing MMA.”
“Very wise, as all doctors are.” He grins. “Headache, blurry vision, sensitivity to light or noise, ringing in the ears, fatigue, trouble concentrating or sleeping, emotional changes like irritability, depression, or anxiety?”
I shift my weight, and the paper under my thighs makes a betraying crinkle. “Um…no to everything except the emotional bit.”
Doctor Death smirks. “With respect to the latter, I diagnose a case of an old flame coming back into your life.”
“Not you, too.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I can’t believe how gossip spreads through the gym. Do people not have anything better to do? Slayer and I are just friends.”
“And you want to attend the jiu-jitsu class this afternoon for the sake of friendship? Is that right?” He sighs and leans against the counter across from me. “I hope that’s the case, otherwise I’ll have to delete your number from my special ‘Single Ladies’ address book.”
I slide off the table. “You and me…it’s never going to happen.”
He sighs again. “I can dream.”
“Dream about Sandy. She’s your perfect match. I don’t know why you two never got together. She’s unattached at the moment.”
“That’s our problem,” he says. “We have never been able to coordinate our unattached moments. I’m seeing someone right now. Diane. She works in radiology at the hospital. I think this is the real thing. It’s been two weeks and I’m not bored, so I’m going to have Sia tattoo her name on my ass.”
I laugh as I reach for the door. “Well then, I plan on coming to your funeral, because the Predator will rip off your arms and legs if he finds out you were alone in a dark room with his wife and nothing on below your waist.”
“Sia is a professional,” he huffs.
“Maybe she did that kind of stuff before they were married. But now… If he even hears you talking about it…” I shudder. “I can’t even imagine what he would do. Ripping off your limbs would probably just be the start. You heard the rumors that he used to be in the CIA before he became an investigator. They know all about torture.”
“Maybe I should get it on my arm,” Doctor Death muses.
“Maybe give it a bit more time. Two weeks is nothing in the big scheme of things. If it’s true love, it will last.” My heart squeezes in my chest. Did my love last? Is it still there beneath all the hurt and pain?
Doctor Death snorts. “Good advice from someone as unqualified in the love department as you.”
“So what about class?” I say, opening the door.
“If you’re just rolling on the mats, I think you should be fine. We worry about high-impact exercise, contact sports, or anything that might give you a second concussion. Also, keep your heart rate down. Anything above seventy percent of your maximum is a risk.”
“You’re the best.” I blow him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it and hold it to his chest.
“I know.”
* * *
Half an hour later, I’m in the jiu-jitsu dojo, talking to Renegade, when Sandy walks in.
“I thought Slayer might need a volunteer to help demonstrate the moves,” she says when Renegade lifts a curious eyebrow. Sandy is a striker and has never shown any interest in the submissions, grappling, and floor work we do in jiu-jitsu. She attends classes only rarely and has never progressed past her blue belt.
I force a smile. “How thoughtful.”
“You aren’t sleeping with Slayer, are you?” she says, drawing me aside. “I would never get in your way.”
“No. He’s just my new coach. Why does everyone think I’m sleeping with him?”
Confused, Sandy frowns. “You slapped him. You wouldn’t have bothered if you didn’t care.”
“I cared enough to slap him. That’s it.”
“Well then, it’s game on for me.”
A slow, predatory smile spreads across her face, and I suddenly regret my feigned nonchalance. If Sandy and Zack hook up, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Our class today has a disproportionate number of women, given that women account for only twenty percent of the gym members and only two percent of the fighters. With his Greek-god good looks, Renegade alone is enough to fill a class, but add dark, dangerous Zack, and I’m surprised any men made it in the door.
I hide in the back while Renegade explains that over ninety-five percent of street fights finish on the ground, so ground-fighting skills are extremely important for self-defense. Taking an attacker to the ground eliminates around eighty percent of their arsenal. Zack cautions that if there is more than one attacker, however, taking the fight to the ground should be avoided at all costs.
Much to Sandy’s disappointment, Renegade and Zack demonstrate moves on each other. Two gorgeous alpha males, lying on top of each other and rolling around the floor trying to force each other into submission, isn’t at all disappointing to me. I sit back and enjoy the show.
After the mouth-watering, panty-dampening fight for dominance ends with Zack on top, we pair up. I partner with a newbie named Sue. She is impressed by my purple belt; not so impressed when I put her in a headlock just for fun and to vent some of my Zack-related frustration.
“Let her go.” Zack crouches beside us and shows Sue how to free her head from between my legs. Then he sends her across the room to work with another newbie, gesturing for me to remain on my back on the mat. As soon as she is gone, his dark eyes harden. He is barely recognizable as the man who kissed me softly behind the punching bag a short time ago. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I don’t appreciate the swearing,” I huff. “And I’m keeping it light, if you must know. Doctor Death gave me the okay.” I push myself to my elbows when his mouth opens again. “Don’t even think about asking me to leave. I don’t answer to you, Zack. I do what I want.”
“I realized that when you got involved in something that wasn’t your fight.”
Ah. He was annoyed. “I’m sorry, but I’d do it again, because you aren’t ready for that fight. And I don’t care if you hate me for saying it, because we both know that if you were, no one could have stopped you from climbing into that ring.”
Zack stares down at me, lying on my back on the floor. Emotion flickers across his face but disappears so fast, I wonder if my words affected him at all. “Since you’re down there, we’ll see how you escape a choke from the guard.”
“With you?” My heart races as he kneels at my feet, and I take a deep breath and try to keep it below the seventy percent threshold.
“Yes, with me.” His dark eyes glitter as he rests a hand on each of my knees and unceremoniously pushes my legs apart. “Spread.”
I’ve done this move countless times in countless classes, but never has my partner set my mind ablaze and my body on fire. Never have I felt that word like a rush of heat in my core.
“Legs around my hips.” His voice catches, and I am perversely pleased by the fact that this highly suggestive position that has never seemed suggestive until now is having some effect on him, too.
Acutely aware that we are being watched by the other people in the class, I wrap my legs around his hips. Zack grabs the edge of my gi and rolls, pulling me down with his right hand until I am lying on his body, my cheek against his chest, my hips pressed against what I hope is a cup.
“Breathe,” he whispers.
I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding and pray this is over soon.
Zack bumps his hips up until they are tight against mine and grabs the back of my gi with his left hand. Then he pulls his elbow around my head for the choke.
“Escape.”
But I don’t want to escape. I want to stay here, wrapped in his arms, pressed tight against his body, indulging in years’ worth of Zack-on-his-back fantasies in one fell swoop.
“Do you know how?” he murmurs.
Before I can answer, I see pale feet, decorated with perfectly pink nail polish and not a callus in sight.
“Hey, Slayer.” Sandy’s voice drags me back to the cold, harsh reality of jiu-jitsu class and my conniving and unfortunately single friend. “If you need a partner, I’m free. Renegade had to take Jill to the first aid room. I was a little too rough with her.” She laughs. “But I heard you like it rough, don’t you?”
And…I’m going to heave.
Before he can answer, I use the distraction to slip my head free. I twist into half guard and scissor my legs around Zack’s body. His eyes widen, and suddenly, I have his full, undivided attention.
Zack is stronger and vastly more experienced. He easily evades my every attempt to put him in submission, and our grapple becomes one of chase and evasion.
“Don’t let him at your back.” Renegade has returned and crouches beside us, calling out helpful tips, because Zack is no longer teaching. He is on the hunt, and I’m the prey.
I quickly turn to protect my back, and Zack rolls and mounts me, straddling my hips, deliciously heavy in just the right place. He looks down at me and gives a satisfied growl as he places his hands on my collarbone, his fingers dangerously close to my neck.
A thrill of desire shoots down my spine, and I bite back a moan.
“Don’t just lie there,” Renegade barks. “He’s giving you a chance.”
“Actually, I’m giving him a chance. If he doesn’t get off me in three seconds, he’s going to suffer like he’s never suffered before.”
Renegade grins. “Looking forward to it.”
I bring both arms inside Zack’s guard and slide his arms off my chest. He drops his head, and I wrap my right arm around the back of his neck and grab my left bicep with my right hand. His cheek is against my cheek. His chest is against my chest. His cup is pressed tight against the curve of my sex. With every breath, I inhale his scent of soap and sweat, and every muscle in my body tightens with need.
Somewhere out there, Renegade shouts, “Finish it.”
I slide my left hand under his neck, trying to decide whether to use a scissor hand or a fist to crush his throat. And in that moment, Zack moves. Before my brain can process what’s happening, he’s back in full mount, and I’m flat on my back, hands pinned to the mat above my head.
Oh. My. God. Not again.
“Submit,” Zack whispers.
The shiver that explodes through my body almost rips a groan from my throat. I buck my hips, annoyed by the way the thick cotton of my gi dampens the pleasure of his heat against me. I want him in my bed. Naked. I want to tear off his gi and scrape my nails down his back as he pounds inside me, driving me into the bed. The one time we were together, we made love. Now, I want sex. Raw, wild, uninhibited, tear-off-my-clothes-and-throw-me-on-the-bed sex.
Zack’s jaw tightens, and his corded throat stiffens when he swallows. “You can’t hesitate. Do or die.”
“Do.” I arch my back and shrimp, trying to throw him off, but he’s too heavy, and I’m too tightly pinned.
Zack leans forward. “If we weren’t in the middle of class…” he whispers in my ear.
“We’re supposed to be keeping this professional.”
“If I wasn’t being professional, I’d have your clothes off already.” Zack releases me and helps me to my feet, all casual as though he didn’t just cross a line we’d agreed not to cross. It seems to be one step forward and two steps back.
Almost instantly, he is swarmed by people who want to know about that move and can he try it on them. Confused and annoyed that I can’t control this chemistry between us, I head to the locker room for a cold shower. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I can’t train with someone I once loved more than anything else.
Sandy is talking to Sadist at the front door when I’ve showered and changed. She follows me out into the parking lot after I wave goodbye to my friends.
“What was that all about?” she asks. “You and Slayer in class?”
“Me messing up a submission.” I walk faster, although I know it’s not going to make her go away.
“I thought you weren’t into him.”
“I’m not. We’re just working together.” I can’t even say we’re friends, because I don’t know if I can just be friends with Zack. I’m beginning to think it has to be all or nothing with him.
“I couldn’t work with a guy like him,” she says when I stop beside my car. “I mean, look at him. I just want to lick him all over.”
So do I.
Is it wrong of me not to want to see Zack with Sandy, even if I can’t have him myself? Just the thought of them together makes my stomach twist in a knot. “Actually, Zack and I—”
“Shay. Wait.” Zack’s shout cuts me off, and I turn to see him walking toward us, closing the distance with easy strides of his long legs. “I’ve booked the practice ring from eight to ten tonight. Torment gave me the keys to lock up. Since you’ve got the doctor’s okay for grappling, I didn’t want to waste time.”
Sandy’s mouth turns down in a frown. “What about drinks tonight? I was going to take you out to see my friend’s band after we met up with my parents.”
“I’ll be there for dinner, but I need to be back at eight for Shayla,” he says. “I want to get started, because I’ve got to go to Seattle tomorrow for a few days.”
Sandy’s lips press tight together, and her gaze flicks from me to Zack and back to me. “Sure. Maybe another night. I guess I’ll see you at dinner.”
“If you want to spend the evening with her…” I say as Sandy walks away.
“I don’t.”
“It’s okay, Zack.” I lean against my safe and solid Volvo. “Really. I don’t expect… I mean, I didn’t even ask you if you have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Although if you were married, I would have read about it online. Unless it was a secret wedding.” I give myself a mental kick. “I’m just trying to say—”
“You’re jealous.”
Affronted, I stare. “I’m not jealous.”
His lips quiver at the corners. “You looked like you were going to deck her when she mentioned going for drinks.”
“I was being a good friend.” I fold my arms over my chest. “You don’t know what she’s like. She was engaged to Torment. She broke Blade Saw’s heart twice. I was worried for you, in case you had someone. Because that could be awkward.” I’m babbling, but I can’t stop myself, because I can’t get the images of Zack and Sandy together out of my mind.
Zack chuckles. “I’m not with anyone. And I think I can handle myself. But you…” He cups my jaw, his thumb caressing my cheek as his face softens. “What are we going to do about you? Jealous means you still care.”
“I am not jealous,” I spit out. “I know you’ve been with other women. Lots of women.”
I know, because I read about every single one.
Candy Sunshine confirms romance with MMA fighter, Zack Grayson—“He said I was the one!”
MEFC’s “Playboy” Fighters—Who is in Zack Grayson’s little black book?
Waitress Jenny Dawson tells all—“I’m going to have Zack Grayson’s baby!”
New couple alert! Zack Grayson and porn queen, Kitty Hard. “Slayer slayed me in bed.”
Is Zack Grayson dating the president’s daughter?
“Rough Stuff.” Zack Grayson spotted in exclusive New York BDSM club with A-list actress Noelle Waters. “He likes it rough,” staff member reveals. “He likes to make them scream.”
“And you’ll be with…other women…like Sandy,” I continue. “But I can’t train with you if you’re going to date other women in the gym.” I drop my gaze, embarrassed by my admission. “I know it’s not fair of me to ask, and it doesn’t make sense, but I…just… Don’t make me watch.”
His face softens, and he leans closer. “That kiss,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “In Torment’s office. That was nothing?”
“Aside from the fact that we risked both our lives, and you have to pay a heavy price, and I maybe got a little hot from all the activity…nothing.”
“And when we touched…” He slides one arm around my waist and pulls me close as if we were alone and not in the Redemption parking lot where, no doubt, we are fueling the overactive gossip mill. “When I held you…nothing?”
My cheeks burn at the memory. “A friendly hug.”
“And back there in class…” His hips press up against mine, and his voice drops to a sensual growl. “When I had you underneath me with your hands pinned above your head totally at my mercy…nothing?”
I open my mouth, but nothing is exactly what comes out.
Zack responds with a satisfied grunt. “Something.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” I grit my teeth and look away. “It was a natural physiological response. I’m genetically programmed to be attracted to handsome, sexy men in peak physical condition. Survival of the species and that sort of thing.”
He laughs, and oh God, I missed that deep, rich rumble that rolls right through me. “What about this?” He taps my head. “I’ve heard the brain can overcome basic instinct and genetic programming. Free will and that sort of thing.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not working right now. I think it’s the gi.” Unable to stop myself, I run my hand along the edge of his gi, my fingers trailing over the hard muscles of his chest. “It’s…distracting.”
His muscles tense under my touch, and a growl vibrates in his chest. “You’re distracting.”
“We’re supposed to be keeping it professional,” I remind him, pulling my hand away. I watched his body change from boyhood through his gangly teen years and then fill out when he reached his early twenties. He was ripped back then in a way that made heads turn, but his muscles now are thick and hard, ripened by age and hundreds of fights. When I last saw him, there was still some boy left in the way he held himself, a slight unease with his body. But now, he is all confidence and power. Pure solid man.
Zack grabs my hand and presses it against his bare chest, right over his heart. “You’re not making it easy. Your jealousy…knowing you care…feeling that connection… You don’t know what that does to me.” He is on me before I can part my lips, one hand firm around my neck, his lean, powerful body caging me against the car. His mouth claims mine, stealing my breath away with a kiss that sends a scorching wave of heat through my veins.
“Professional means no kissing,” I say when he lets me up for air. Without thinking, I trace the edges of the scar on his forehead, a bitter reminder of Matt’s misdirected anger when Zack brought home his mangled bike.
Zack covers my hand with his, trapping it against my cheek. “No kissing,” he agrees. “Unless you touch me, and then I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“Fine. No touching.” I pull my hand away, pleased that we are setting some ground rules so I don’t have to worry about wanting to tear his clothes off in the gym.
His naughty hand skims the side of my face, his thumb stroking over the apple of my cheek as he tips my head back, forcing me to look at him. “I can’t train you if I don’t touch you, especially when we’re rolling on the mats like we just did in class.”
“Okay. Professional touching. Nothing else.”
He licks his lips like a predator about to feast. “Unless you want something else.”
I press my lips together and scowl. “Stop qualifying everything. I know exactly what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work. You can’t seduce me, Zachary Grayson. You know exactly what professional means. Now let’s shake on it.”
He cups my face between his hands and tilts my head back. “Kiss.”
“You had your kiss—”
Without warning, his hands drop to my hips, and he yanks me against him. His mouth crushes mine, and his tongue slides between my lips, touching, tasting, claiming. I startle at the urgency of his kiss, the raw heat, the fierce desire. I shouldn’t kiss him back, but I can’t resist the dark temptation, the firm hand that has found its way to my nape, holding me in place as he coaxes me open for the slow, relentless possession of my mouth.
Blood pounds in my temples, my hunger for him raw and wild. My hand slides up his chest and over his shoulder. I pull him closer, my fingers clutching the soft, silken strands of his hair. My heart pounds in my chest, and the world shatters around me.
I know better than this. When he left me, desolation led me into a darkness far worse than anything I ever imagined. And yet I don’t fight it, because I want to feel his hands on my skin, his lips on mine, his arms around me, keeping me safe. I want him to hold me tight, kiss me hard. I want to be the girl who thought she was loved.
“Stop.” I pull away. “We’re in the parking lot. You don’t know the guys at Redemption. They live for this kind of thing. The teasing will never end.”
“Fuck them.”
He nuzzles my neck, the rough stubble of his beard scraping over my sensitive skin. My body flames, sweat beading and running down my back. Was it always like this with him? Frantic, wild desperation? A fierce hunger for his touch, the closeness of his body? A burning need to be as close as two people can get?
“Zack.” I can’t think, can’t fight. When he touches me, I melt inside. I don’t want to feel these feelings, but I can’t stop them. I don’t want to want him, but I do. Confusion makes my head ache and my heart pound, well beyond the seventy percent maximum.
“This is dangerous,” I murmur against his lips.
“I like dangerous.”
A door slams in the distance. Footsteps thud in the gravel, getting louder. I push Zack back just as Sadist comes into view. Instead of disappointment that we have to part, all I feel is blessed relief that I have respite from the storm of emotion whipping through my body.
“Shilla. Slayer.” Sadist nods a greeting while doing an extremely poor job of trying to hide his smirk.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I say. “It’s nothing.”
“Sure.” His gaze flicks to Zack, and something passes between them that wipes that smile right off his face.
“What did you say to him in your secret, silent man language?” I ask after Sadist has reached his SUV. “You shut him down pretty quickly.”
Zack’s face tightens, and he looks away. “Nothing. Just like you said.”