Chapter 17 Definitely Not Regretting It #3
“I know.” I nip her plump lower lip like a starved animal, which for her, I am. “You still want your asshole?”
Her laugh comes out on a shaky breath. “You are so fucking dumb.”
“Didn’t hear you calling me dumb when you were grinding on my hand.”
Her nails bite into my shoulders hard enough to dip into my skin. “Bring that up one more time and I’ll drop you.”
“Maybe I want to see stars.”
She shoves me backward hard enough that I stumble, catching myself on the little wooden bench. She’s on me in a second flat, straddling my lap, thighs bracketing my hips. Her hands frame my jaw, her eyes blazing hot.
“You want to fuck me because you’re jealous,” she states bluntly, not as a question but a fact.
“I want to fuck you because I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I saw you fight for the first time” I correct with brutal honesty that I should probably keep to myself. “The jealousy is just the gasoline on the bonfire.”
Her mouth twitches, almost as if she likes that little bit of information. “You’re so dramatic.”
“You love it.”
Her smile dies as fast as it came, her brows meeting in the center. “I’m still mad.”
“Good.” The corner of my lip tugs up, smug, sliding my hands up her thighs slowly. “Be mad on my dick.”
“If you do that denial shit again—”
“I won’t,” I promise quickly, dead serious, having learned my lesson. For now. “You come, or I don’t.”
Her brows knit, unsure of whether she can trust me or not. It hurts, but I get it. “Swear?”
“I swear.” I nod, dropping the smirk for a moment, trying to assure her as best I can.
“No games. No pulling back. No trying to make you say anything. You want it, you get it. You say stop, I stop. You say no, I’m done.
But if you say nothing and climb me like a tree, I’m not responsible for my actions. ”
She must believe me, as her grip on my jaw tightens like a fucking vice.
“This isn’t forgiveness,” she warns in a whisper.
“I know.”
“This is stress relief.”
My grin widens confidently. “I’m excellent at that.”
She rolls her eyes and then kisses me again, shutting both of us up. I drag my hands to the waistband of her shorts, fingertips slipping under elastic. She lifts her hips in silent permission, and I shove them down as far as I can from this angle.
“Boots,” I mutter against her lips, too hungry to stop.
“Leave them,” she pants, curling her fingers in my hair and tugging just a bit. “I’m not putting them back on in here.”
“Knew there was a reason I liked you.”
Her hands find my belt, unbuckling it with practiced, impatient fingers.
The scrape of metal, the soft sound of the zipper—I feel it everywhere.
She pushes my jeans down just enough, knuckles dragging along my skin, and I bite back a groan.
I tug her closer, forward, until there’s inches, then less than that, then nothing between us but the thin fabric of our underwear.
“You really came to my fight,” she mutters, rocking once, slow and cruel, “just to corner me in a locker room?”
“Storage closet,” I correct, every muscle in my thighs going tight. “Don’t undersell the romance.”
“You’re insane.”
“For you? Absolutely.”
She rolls her hips again and my head hits the wall behind me.
“Fuck, Raine.”
“Language,” she says sweetly, grinding down through the fabric, working me up well before I’m even inside her. “Thought you liked denial.”
“Not when it’s happening to me,” I grit out, gripping her hips tightly to try and control her movements, but I fail.
She smirks, pleased with herself. “Now you know how it feels.”
“Sunshine, if you’re trying to break me, just know you’re succeeding spectacularly.”
Her hands slide up my chest, nails leaving faint lines on my skin that I’m absolutely going to admire later in a mirror. She braces them on my shoulders, leans in until our noses almost touch. I kiss her, hard enough to bruise.
Her hand slides between us, fingers wrapping around my massive hard-on through what’s left of the barrier. My breath stutters at her touch as she strokes me once teasingly.
I swear I think I might lose my mind.
“You want to know how you compare?” she asks wickedly, knowing me better than I give her credit for.
“Confidently,” I manage to say as she strokes me once more, slow and sensual.
“Good.”
She shifts, taking her underwear off as I pull down my boxers, then she reaches for the small pocket in her shorts where she keeps her mouthguard when she fights. Instead of plastic, she pulls out a crumpled foil square.
My brows shoot up in surprise. “You brought a condom to your fight?”
“I was warned you might show up.” She shrugs, throwing it out nonchalantly like she saw this coming.
My chest does something stupid at the idea that she came in here hoping for this, even if just a little. She rips it open with her teeth, spits the corner into the trash can, and rolls the condom on me with ease. The contact alone is almost enough to undo me.
“Raine,” I choke, the sound halfway between a plea and a laugh. “You’re killing me.”
“Yeah.” She doesn’t even pretend to feel bad, eyes on my mouth, satisfied as hell. “I know.”
She shifts her hips, lining us up, and every muscle in my body goes tight, waiting. She slides down, inch by slow, glorious inch, until all eight and a half inches of me are buried deep inside her.
Her head falls forward, forehead resting against mine, breath hot on my lips. I press my hands hard into her hips, fingers digging into skin, fighting every instinct not to lose myself too fast.
“Okay?” I manage, checking her face even while my brain’s trying to float away.
She nods, eyes squeezing shut for a second as she drags in a breath. “Yeah. Fuck. Yeah.”
We start moving together, finding a rough, furious rhythm.
Her nails bite into my shoulders. Every roll of her hips is a groan I have to bite back.
She sets the pace, heavy and unrestrained, using me exactly the way she said she would—for relief.
My back hits the wall with each thrust, and I don’t care.
I’d let her crack the plaster with my skull if it meant she kept moving like that.
“You’re so smug,” she pants, eyes narrowed even while she’s right there with me. “Look at you.” Her grip tightens, half accusation, half approval. “You love this.”
I love you almost slips out.
What I actually say is, “I love the sounds you make when you ride me like you’re mad at me.”
She huffs out a breathless, broken laugh. “That’s because I am.”
“Good,” I growl, meeting her rhythm with my own. “Hate me. Take it out on me. Use me, Sunshine. I can take it.”
Her eyes flash with the challenge, and something almost feral surfaces. “You think I won’t?”
“I’m counting on it.”
She leans back enough to get leverage and really starts to move, hips snapping, thighs clenching around my waist. The bench creaks in protest under us, ready to snap with each hard sway of her pelvis. My fingers slip from her hips to the curve of her ass, hauling her down harder.
I slide my other hand between us, finding her clit, and apply the right pressure.
She bites back a moan that tells me I'm giving her just what she wants.
Her head tips back, exposing the long line of her throat.
I take the invitation, mouth tracing heat along her skin, sucking a mark into the side of her neck where her collar will hide it later.
Maybe.
“Jax. Don’t you dare slow down.” Her voice cracks on the order, breath catching hard.
I laugh against her skin. “You kidding? I’m hanging on by a thread here.”
“Good. That’s what you get.” She makes it harsher this time, like she wants it to sting.
“Payback’s a bitch.” The words come out on a breathy laugh as I press closer where she’s most sensitive.
“And she’s riding you.” She manages it through a shaky inhale, all bite and satisfaction.
I lose my mind a little at that.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Raine.”
“You like that?” She taunts it right into my ear, rolling her hips just right. “You like knowing I thought about this? About you? About—”
Her words cut off on a strangled sound, fingers clawing at my shoulders as her breath hitches and she comes on my dick, pulsing around me, dragging me closer with every squeeze.
I feel her whole body tense, hear the broken noise that she buries against my neck.
I feel the graze of her teeth as she bites my shoulder to keep from screaming.
I ride it out with her, holding her down, giving her exactly what I promised: no games, no pulling back, nothing but what she needs.
I’m done about two seconds later. I come, hips stuttering, groaning into her neck as everything finally snaps. I hold her to me, crushed chest to chest, riding the aftershocks until my muscles give up and I sag back against the wall, dragging her with me.
We’re both breathing like we just went ten rounds. For a while, there’s nothing, no movement, no sound. Just Raine on my lap, sweat cooling on our skin, her heartbeat thudding against my chest.
Eventually, she shifts, wincing a little, and I worry maybe we went too hard. No way. That was easy mode. “My legs are gonna be pissed at me later.”
“Worth it.” My voice comes out hoarse, wrecked in the best way possible.
She snorts, forehead still resting on my shoulder. “You would say that.”
I ease my grip on her hips, letting her decide when to move again. When she finally slides off me, I help steady her, both of us a little uncoordinated.
I take off the condom and dispose of it with ease, fixing my jeans enough that I can leave without suspicion, then I look up. She’s leaning back against the wall again, head tipped, eyes closed, hair a mess, lips swollen. She looks wrecked and absolutely beautiful.
She looks fucking perfect.
“So how did I compare, Sunshine?” I blurt it out with way too much confidence for a man who should be humbled right now.
Her eyes open, hazy yet focused at the same time. “You really are jealous, huh?”
“Of Theo?” I lift a shoulder, trying for casual and landing somewhere, well, not casual. “Yeah. I’m not gonna pretend I’m not.” I exhale through my nose, the next part quieter. “But it’s not a competition.”
“It sounds like one.”
“Then I said it wrong.” The admission scrapes on the way out, but I don’t dodge it. “I’m… glad he was there for you when I fucked up. I am.” My throat tightens, and I force myself to keep going anyway. “I just also wanted a chance to not fuck up, you know?”
She studies me in silence, long enough that my stomach starts doing laps.
“This didn’t fix anything.” Her voice is flat, not cruel. Just real.
“I know.”
“You’re still an asshole.”
“Non-negotiable.” I can’t help the quick answer, even when I’m trying to be serious. “It’s basically in the job description.”
She huffs a tiny laugh despite herself, and it hits me harder than it should. I step closer, slow enough she can stop me. When she doesn’t, I lean in and press a soft kiss to her mouth—barely there, nothing like the way we just went at each other.
When I pull back, she mutters, “If you do that denial shit again, I’m breaking your fingers.”
“I know.” I keep my voice steady, even when my chest is still doing too much. “And I meant what I said. No more games with your body. If you want me, I’m here. If you don’t, I’ll deal.” My mouth tightens around the last part. “But I’m not walking away halfway again.”
She searches my face as if she’s trying to peel back layers, looking for the punchline I usually hide behind. Then she nods once. “Good.”
We both glance at the door when someone bangs on it from the hall, a muffled voice yelling “next fighter.”
Raine sighs, already bracing herself. “You need to go.”
“Yeah.” I back up a step, giving her space without pretending I’m fine. “I’ll be outside.”
“In the crowd?”
“On my bike.” The answer comes easy, stubborn where it needs to be. “I’ll wait till you’re done.”
Her mouth tightens, like she wants to tell me not to, like she wants to pretend it doesn’t matter.
“Do whatever you want,” she mutters instead, eyes sliding away.
“Oh, I will.”
“Jax.”
“Yeah?”
She hesitates, then the words finally come, quieter than the rest. “Don’t tell Theo or Elias.”
I press a hand to my chest, scandalized on principle. “I would never.”
Her brow arches, unimpressed, because she knows me.
“Okay, that’s a lie.” The confession slips out with a quick shrug and my trademark smirk. “But I’ll keep the details tasteful.”
She rolls her eyes, but the ghost of a smile shows up anyway, and it hits me right in the ribs as I unlock the door.
Before I step out, I glance back at her one more time.
Sweaty, pissed off, half-dressed, still catching her breath.
And my brain, traitor that it is, supplies the word like it’s inevitable.
Mine.
“Raine.” I say her name and let it sober me up. When she looks up, I continue. “This isn’t a joke to me. You’re not a game. You’re not a bet.” I hold her gaze, letting her see the part I usually keep behind the grin. “I’m a fuckup, but I’m not casual about you. Not sure I ever was.”
Something flickers in her eyes.
For the first time in a week, I actually believe myself.