Chapter 13 #2
Various machines are situated on either side, all designed to keep a person in peak condition if they deign to use them, and mirrors line all the walls.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Xavier tracking my path with his own eyes, but he still doesn’t say a word.
Stepping up onto the machine, I put my earbuds in and program the treadmill to a speed that won’t allow for easy conversation.
Selecting a playlist from my phone, I start to move my feet in time with the moving belt.
This program starts off slow and gets faster, lowering and raising the incline to make the workout more strenuous.
It’s perfect for my needs, and for the next twenty minutes, I focus on keeping my breathing even and not falling off the damn machine with a misstep.
It’s pure bliss. All other thoughts drift away as I focus on the air in my chest and the burn in my muscles.
When my workout tapers off to a cool down walk, I’m breathing heavily, and my skin has a sheen of sweat on it. It’s been a while since I worked out, and I’m paying for it. Thank goodness my trainers aren’t here to see the sorry state I’m in.
I feel rather than see Xavier approach me. It’s like my body is attuned to his, and goosebumps erupt on my arms that have nothing to do with the air conditioner blowing across my sweaty skin.
“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to spar.” I pull the emergency stop button on the machine, and it responds instantly.
I turn to face Xavier, the machine putting me eye to eye with him.
His face is carefully blank, but I can see the worry in his eyes, like he’s approaching a skittish kitten and is hoping it doesn’t lash out with its claws.
I take a big breath and exhale, trying to get my heart rate under control after the hard workout. “Ah, yeah, sure, that would be good. I haven’t called my trainers yet to let them know I’m back in town.”
He holds out a hand to assist me down, and I take it.
My hand looks so dainty in his large one, and his fingers are strong but comforting.
Back on solid ground, I toe off my shoes and socks and leave them next to the machine, then I move to the basket of padded fingerless gloves for protection for my hands.
I don’t have time for broken knuckles or fingers, and even though we won’t be sparring full contact, accidents can happen, and sometimes, a hit lands.
I grab a large pair and hold them out for Xavier, who takes them and slips his hands into them. “Do you want to go full contact?” he asks, nodding toward the basket of shin and body pads as well as face guards.
I shake my head. “No, it’s been a while. If we could just do some light contact, I would appreciate it. I have a morning meeting I can’t miss, and I’m assuming you have to be at college sometime today.”
He looks at the clock on the wall. “Yeah, I have a self-defense lesson to give this morning, with a class in sports psychology this afternoon.”
My eyebrows rise. “I thought you were doing a business degree like Gio,” I say, and he avoids looking at me as he pulls his gloves on.
“Yeah, I’m just auditing the class. I thought it might help with my self-defense classes,” he mumbles before gesturing to the mat. “Shall we?”
I pull my gloves on while thinking about what he just said.
I guess it makes sense to know more about the mind of someone you’re training, but what would I know?
I haven’t even considered college classes, since I knew what my life was going to entail.
Not all of us have the luxury of deciding what we are going to be when we grow up.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and connect it to the sound system, and a playlist heavy in eighties’ rock music starts playing.
I toss my earbuds and the phone onto a weight bench and step out onto the mats, the softer surface giving way beneath my feet.
Standing in front of Xavier, I hold out my gloves, and he bumps them before we both put our hands up to guard our faces.
I watch him carefully as we circle each other, waiting for the minute movement of a muscle to telegraph his movements.
He jabs at my face, fast and straight, and I duck just in time, but I still feel the rush of air on my cheek.
I stumble back slightly, my eyebrows rising at the force he put behind it.
“Okay then, I guess we aren’t going to pull our punches.
That would have fucking hurt if it connected. ”
He smirks, and there’s a wicked glint in his eye. “Aren’t you the angel of death? I thought that would have been easy to see coming.”
I growl and get back into position with my hands up.
I guess it’s going to be like that. This time, I don’t wait for him to move, and I strike hard and fast, a jab cross combination.
He manages to duck the first punch, but the second clips his cheekbone, and while he’s distracted by that, I follow with a right hammer fist toward his temple, but he ducks and quickly steps under my guard.
He counters with a sharp burst of punches to my body—left, right, left—his elbows driving into my ribs and solar plexus.
I can tell by the hits that he’s not putting his full strength behind them, but it still stings.
I gasp in a quick breath of air before pivoting on my front foot and firing back with a short hook to his jaw.
It connects, and he stumbles back slightly, shaking his head.
It’s my turn to smirk at him and raise an eyebrow. “That all you’ve got?”
He doesn’t say a word, unleashing another volley of punches to my face and body, the blows drive me back, but I bring up my forearms, blocking high to protect my face.
He follows with a low kick to my thigh that has me dropping my guard slightly, and he lunges in with an elbow strike straight to my temple.
I twist so instead of knocking me out, it glances off my shoulder.
I can’t stop the grunt of pain that leaves my mouth.
Damn, there was some heat behind that one.
If I didn’t know better, I would say he was trying to knock me out.
That elbow strike certainly would have done that.
Twisting, I grab his wrist, trying to trap and counter, but he slams his forearm down on my arm and breaks free, and we stumble apart to regroup.
He looks completely focused, but I’m slightly shaken by the intensity of this fight.
A rush of excitement flows through me. I’m impressed with how skilled he is, and I’m getting the surge of adrenaline I’m addicted to.
He comes at me fast and hard, trying to grab hold of me to use his weight as leverage against me.
My knee shoots up, aiming for his groin, but he turns his hips and absorbs the impact on his thigh.
He fires a short elbow strike into my sternum, and the breath rushes out of my lungs.
Still, I try to fight back despite struggling to get air into my lungs.
He has me locked against him, and I try a punch to his face, but it glances off.
Lifting my head, I aim a headbutt at his cheek, but all it does is make my head spin and my vision turn blurry while he remains unshakeable.
I sag in his arms to get my bearings, and he hooks my shoulder, pivots, and sweeps his leg.
I go down hard, my back smacking against the floor as his full weight comes down on top of me.
I close my eyes and groan, knowing he handed me my ass, and try to regroup.
I feel his breath across my lips, and when I open my eyes, he’s right in my face.
“Why did you run off last night?” he asks harshly, his breath heaving from his lungs as much as mine is, and I feel a moment of satisfaction that I gave him as much hell as he gave me.
There’s a slight bruise blooming on his cheek where my head connected with it.
“If you didn’t want it, you should have just said no, and we would have backed off.
Tristan is miserable because he thinks we violated you. ”
I close my eyes, lean my head back on the mat, and shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I did want it,” I reply, unable to meet his gaze.
“Then why rush out of there like a bat out of hell? Shit, you didn’t even have pants on, and you left your gun.”
I blow out a huge breath of air before opening my eyes and looking at him. “You know who I am, right, and what my family does?”
He frowns. “Yeah, we know who you are,” he says gruffly.
“Our life is not conducive to relationships. Letting anyone close makes them a target. Hell, what Gio has done with Casey has put her right at the top of the ways we can make him suffer list. I don’t want that for you or her. She’s too nice and not cut out for this life.”
He scoffs and releases my arms, then he sits back on his heels, allowing me to raise my body off the mat.
“You’re scared,” he accuses, and I push a stray sweaty lock of hair off my forehead.
“Damn right I’m scared. Before I got involved with Sage, my sexual experiences were strictly women and no emotions were involved. I got my orgasm, then I got out. No messy emotions, commitment, or danger of my heart getting involved.”
“Well, that isn’t strictly true, is it? You’ve been playing with Colt for a few months now,” he points out, and I feel my face flush.
“That’s another aspect of me that isn’t easy to accept. I like blood. I like to make my subs bleed. Is that something you are into?” I ask boldly, and he shrugs.
“I don’t mind a little blood play, but let me ask you this. Do you make Sage bleed? Or when you were with Vienna last week, did you want to make her bleed?”
My eyebrows jump in surprise before I can stop them.
I guess they have no secrets from each other, not that I needed them to keep it a secret.
I think about what he asked and shake my head.
“No, I don’t need to make them bleed. Sage doesn’t like anything remotely like that—old childhood trauma,” I explain, and he nods.
“Exactly, so as long as you still have Colt who can fulfil that need, then I don’t see what the problem is, and trust me when I say Colton needs it. He might seem like a geeky computer nerd, but that boy has demons. Letting you bleed him is a release he craves.”
“But—” I begin to argue that sex isn’t the issue, but he doesn’t let me finish. He stands up and offers me his hand. I slap mine into it, and he hauls me to my feet.
“No buts, we are all adults and capable of making our own choices. Trust me when I say we can all look after ourselves. Even Casey, who might seem sweet and innocent, has her own drama. She can handle all of Gio’s shit.
Also, let the four of us make our own decisions.
We know what we want, and right now, that’s you and Sage, and if things progress, we can be adults and talk about it. ”
“In public we’re going to have to pretend to just be friends if we ever hang out together,” I warn him, and when he goes to argue, I put up my hand.
“No, I know you’re all adults, but I won’t put you at risk.
If my enemies find out I feel affection for any of you, they will take advantage of that, and the last thing I want is for anyone else I have feelings for to die.
Losing my dad and aunt Carla almost destroyed me, and with Uncle Mickey barely clinging to life, I wouldn’t be able to survive another loss, so those are my terms. If you can’t handle them, then we need to stop whatever this is right now.
” I’m firm, and I can tell that Xavier understands I’m serious.
“Fine, but in this house, none of us will hold back. Are you okay with that?” he asks, and I shrug.
“Sure, but know that my business comes first. If I get a call and need to leave for whatever reason, then you have to let me go. You can’t come with me or be my white knight, riding in to save the day. That’s not how my life works, and you would only end up getting hurt or worse.”
“So Sage can protect you, but we can’t?” he asks stubbornly, crossing his arms and glaring at me.
I sigh. “Sage is in the life, Xavier. He knew what he was in for when my dad gave him a home.”
He drops his arms but doesn’t lose the hard expression. “Fine, I’ll let it go for now, but I will prove to you that we can take care of ourselves, and maybe then, you’ll feel comfortable with us in public.”
I give him a wry smile. “I don’t want you to think I’m embarrassed or anything. I promise it’s not that. I just don’t want you to regret any of this.”
He steps a little closer, sliding his hand onto my waist and tugging me against him, and my heart rate picks up again. He lifts his other hand and cradles the back of my head, then he gently pulls me toward him, stopping when his lips are just inches from mine.
“I assure you, I’m not going to regret this in the least,” he says before pressing his lips to mine, his tongue asking for entrance.
I sigh and open for him, sinking into the kiss.
There’s nothing hurried about it as he slowly maps my mouth with his, my hands wrapping around his waist as I fully submit to his strength.
Before I know it, he’s pulling away, and I blink owlishly at him, my mind wiped of all worries by one freaking amazing kiss.
“See you later,” he tells me. “Maybe we can have a rematch tomorrow. I like having you under me.” He pulls away and strides off without a backward glance. I blink and shake my head, clearing it of all the lustful thoughts that replaced any resemblance of clear thought.
“Don’t think you will get me on my back quite so quickly next time,” I call after him, my voice shaky with desire, and his loud chuckle echoes back to me.