Chapter 2
I clutched my purse as I walked across the expansive room, nodding at the two men who glanced in my direction. The man who Jackson had fought draped his arms over the top rope for support, his blond hair matted to his forehead.
I tried not to let Lance’s warning about Jackson frazzle me as I released the air in my lungs before entering the back room.
I’d only taken two steps in when my legs suddenly locked up.
Frozen in place with widened eyes and a thrashing pulse, I took a moment to register that I might, in fact, be in danger.
I barely noticed the massage table against the nearest wall or the countless stretching bands strewn across the floor.
Or even the large, corded ropes lying in the center of the space.
All I could focus on was the naked man standing twenty feet away.
Rather than retreating from the room, I was unable to tear my gaze from him. I hadn’t gotten a good look at him while he was in the ring because we were far apart, but now he was close. Too close.
He was a striking figure, a perfect male specimen, and I couldn’t help but stare.
He stood close to six feet tall with broad shoulders, every fine inch of him seemingly sculpted from marble.
It was clear he didn’t possess an ounce of fat.
Multiple tattoos covered his left arm, and as my gaze traveled downward from his tapered waist and below, I scolded myself once more for not averting my eyes.
I never imagined I’d see my newest client in the buff, but there he was, in all his glory.
Wait… why is he naked?
Finally, I dropped my head and stared at my feet, having no idea where else to look.
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until there was movement in my peripheral.
My lungs expelled the air as confusion muddled my brain.
After several strides, Jackson stood in front of me, the heat from his body igniting mine.
“That’s an interesting choice of outfit.” The rough tone of his voice put me on edge as if I wasn’t already on high alert. “But it doesn’t matter because soon enough you’ll be naked.”
My head popped up, momentarily ignoring the confusion of why he found my black dress pants and cream silk blouse to be an “interesting choice of outfit.” Instead, my focus zeroed in on the alarming statement of me being naked soon enough.
He took another step forward, so close I could see the golden flecks around his dark brown irises and the scar that ran from the outer corner of his eye before disappearing into his hair line near the top of his ear.
There was also a small bump on the bridge of his nose.
His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, droplets cascading down his face and between his defined pectorals.
A tousled mess of dark waves adorned the top of his head, various strands sticking up in unruly sections.
A shadow of stubble graced his chiseled jawline while specks of blood scattered on his cheeks.
And even though I didn’t want to notice his lips, I couldn’t help but appreciate the plumpness of them.
He had all the qualities of a stereotypical handsome man, but there was also a fierceness to his features. Rugged and captivating. I sensed danger surrounded him, a feeling my gut screamed I should take seriously.
I kept my eyes pinned to his, parting my lips to speak, but all that escaped my mouth was a puff of air.
My thoughts were jumbled, and I blamed my uneasiness on his proximity.
He unnerved me, yet my body refused to retreat.
There would be no fighting or fleeing on my part; instead, I was frozen in place, an unlucky default choice.
Before I registered his movement, he grabbed a fistful of my blouse and yanked it from the waistband of my pants.
“Why are you just standing there?” he asked. “You were brought here to fuck me, so let’s get to it.”
“Wh… what?” I stumbled over the single word, my heart ramming against my rib cage so hard that there was no way he couldn’t hear it.
His large fingers curled around the silver clasp of my black belt, pulling me toward him as he unhooked the buckle. When I finally snapped back to reality, I slammed my hands onto his chest and pushed him back, but it was like trying to move a boulder.
“Are you playing hard to get?” His eyes narrowed as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips. “Because I don’t have any patience for that right now.”
When he grabbed the sides of my pants and yanked them downward, I snatched the material with my left hand to keep them from falling while my right palm connected with his cheek.
Rather than composing himself, he pressed me against the wall, gripping my upper arms. He didn’t hurt me, per se, but the action frightened me.
“You’ve been brought here for one purpose. I’m not into games or whatever it is you think you’re doing. Strip now or get the fuck out.”
I was so shocked over what was happening, I couldn’t string a full sentence together, but luckily Lance appeared, rushing over and inserting himself between us.
“What are you doing?” Lance shouted. His panicked voice didn’t ease my horror, but instead made me feel even more unsettled.
He shoved Jackson three times before the fighter took a step back.
“She’s not here for that, Jax. She’s the new sports trainer.
” Now wasn’t the time to correct him about the title.
When Jackson finally backed up, his gaze traveled over me from head to toe as if he was seeing me for the first time. Lance stepped in front of me to shield me from him, but his protective gesture didn’t make me feel any safer. I still felt trapped and unable to flee.
“I’m so sorry about this, Sophie. I should’ve never let you come back here without me. He’s not dangerous. Not to you at least.”
“He almost raped me.” My voice rose with a mixture of disbelief and anger.
“He wouldn’t have done that. This is all just a big misunderstanding. He thought you were someone else.”
“Someone else?”
“Yeah.” Lance raised his hand to touch my arm, but I flinched. “Again, I’m really sorry about this. It won’t happen again. You have my word.”
I wanted to curse at Jackson for his treatment of me.
At the very least, I should’ve yelled at Lance for allowing this to happen in the first place.
And while I debated both of those scenarios, the one I decided on in the end was both honest and somewhat humbling, speaking volumes for my circumstances.
“I really need this job.” I peered around Lance as Jackson slipped on his shorts. “If you tell me I’m safe with him, I’ll trust you.”
“You are. I promise.” His assurance fell flat, but I didn’t have another choice but to believe him.
My desperation for a job outweighed any red flags I’d experienced. I needed this step forward to extract myself from the rut I’d been in since I left my husband. My independence used to mean everything to me, and I wanted it back.
As he walked me out of the room, a blonde woman entered the gym wearing nothing more than a red scrap of material she considered a dress.
“Elton,” Lance shouted toward one of the men by the ring, pointing at the blonde. “Take her back to Jackson.”
“Is she a prostitute?” I blurted, unable to keep the question to myself.
“A fan.”
“And she’s here to have sex with him?”
Lance contemplated my question before answering. “Yes.”
“That’s who he thought I was?” I glanced down at the outfit I’d chosen, one I thought made me look professional.
I didn’t mean to be judgmental, since she’d come here of her own volition, but nothing about me or the way I dressed screamed I’d be bending over for Jackson.
My shocked expression morphed into a grimace, which prompted Lance to start explaining.
“The gist of it is that Jackson has too much energy. He can only punish his body for so long, so to alleviate the rest of what’s pent up, he needs to work it out in other ways. Sex is the optimal choice.”
“I think that’s a cop-out for a guy who just wants to have sex with random women.” My brain-to-mouth filter is really on the fritz today.
“There’s more to it than that, but I’m not going to get into it now. If you stick around, which I hope you do, you’ll learn more about him.”
“Fun times,” I replied sarcastically.
I would be fine as long as Jackson didn't approach me in the same way again. How I was going to feel when I had to touch him while working on him was something else entirely. I’d cross that proverbial bridge when I came to it, though, which if Lance wanted me to start right away, would be upon me soon enough.
He fell into step beside me and walked me to my car, neither of us saying a word until I stopped next to the driver’s side.
“Thank you for the opportunity. Despite today, I’m looking forward to being a part of the team. Speaking of, what is your role?”
“I’m Jackson’s man of reason.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m the one who talks him down when need be. The one who’s been by his side since the beginning, directing him when he won’t listen to anyone else.”
“Have you known him for a long time?”
“Since he was fifteen. Jackson and I come from similar backgrounds. The first time I saw him fight, I knew he was special.”
Even though my curiosity was piqued, I didn’t press him to elaborate, doubting he’d spill secrets to a stranger.
I shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of how to end our conversation. This was by far the oddest interview I’d ever been on, but as long as he hired me, I wouldn’t complain.
“I’m assuming I have the job?” I tentatively asked.
He’d indicated as much, but I needed clarification before I drove away.
“Yes, if you want it. You’re available to start immediately, correct?”
“Yes.”
A rush of relief washed over me, but the emotion soon battled with worry. Would I have another unpleasant encounter with Jackson? Would I be able to do the proper job required? Would this all end before it even started, leaving me back at square one?
“Great. Seeing as how it’s Friday, I’ll give you tomorrow to prepare. Come by Sunday night around six and I’ll show you the apartment. We’ll need you up and ready to go at seven the next morning.”
“I’ll see you on Sunday.” I gave him my hand in parting. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. I think you’re exactly what he needs.”
Lance walked away as his comment settled over me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling his words held another meaning altogether.