Chapter 12
LEXI
Grayson showed her around the new arena, first touring the showers and dressing room-slash-staging-area for the fighters. His hand was a constant reminder of everything she’d determined would be left on the roof.
Warmth from his hand seeped into her torso, and she didn’t ask him to remove it. He steered her here and there, and she automatically stopped walking when the pressure eased as they entered a locker room.
Lexi wanted to ask where he’d gotten those shower heads and how expensive they were, but she didn’t want to interrupt him.
He’d been talking nonstop since they’d come inside, exclaiming over every aspect of the arena.
The mats, the lighting, the ring, whether to have lounge chairs or stadium seating, and tall tables versus low.
As he described it, she could see it clearly: the result would be a combination of staging, showmanship, and an upscale lounge. The extended sides of the room were going to have lounge chairs with low tables, behind that a few high-top tables with stools, and along the walls would be booths.
Around the ring were going to be two rows of ringside seats, all around with breaks at the corners for walking.
She approved of his choice of mats, as well as the size of the ring.
Her mind got caught up on the fighting, imagining sparring with someone with spotlights on them, so she was startled when he smoothly segued into being her Dom.
He took her hand and led her to one side of where the ring would be. It was far from finished, but the raised platform was in place, taped off at different intervals. He put her at the edge of the platform and walked to the middle.
“Rule one,” Grayson said, his voice echoing to her across the empty room. “Trust your Dom. A relationship with a Dom is like a constant trust-fall.”
Lexi struggled with the image of constantly falling - or being pushed over. Her distaste for the analogy must have shown on her face.
“You could try mentally comparing it to sparring someone you know. You know how far they’ll go, you know their moves, and that they won’t try to kill you out of the blue.”
Lexi tilted her head. Thinking of it that way…
“Like Eddie?”
She thought she saw a muscle in his jaw flex as she waited for his answer, then it was gone. Grayson nodded and continued.
“Rule two. Your focus is on your Dom, period. A sub has to be in tune with their Dom, just like a responsible Dom is in tune with their sub.”
Lexi started walking again, pacing a few feet back and forth.
“Isn’t my focus supposed to be on the fight? I would prefer not getting punched in the face because I’m looking at you.”
“In the ring, one hundred percent, but any other interactions… in a way, they belong to the Dom. Doms,” he said and hesitated, “are very possessive. And we can be fiercely possessive of our sub’s attention.”
Grayson stepped backward until there were a dozen feet between them.
“I’d like to try something,” he said, making his voice a little louder. “Tell me what I’m feeling or thinking.”
Lexi paused and put her hands on her hips.
“Are you serious? I’m supposed to be a mind reader now?”
Grayson smiled and waited.
“You’re tired,” she said.
“Nope. Too easy.”
Lexi looked him over from top to bottom. His wavy hair was messy and probably needed a trim. The bright lighting from above highlighting the fight ring picked up lighter tones of browns in the disarray. His eyebrows were slightly raised, expectant, telling her nothing.
Dark green eyes waited, as if he could stand there all day. The black t-shirt from last night had been replaced by a light grey one on their way downstairs, and it clung to his shoulders and biceps. His chest rose and fell gently and steadily, so he wasn’t agitated or angry.
“You’re overthinking it. Try it another way. Size me up like you would in a fight. What can you tell about me?”
Lexi closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Blinking them open, she took her eyes away from Grayson and walked in a half-circle around the ring.
She didn’t know how to do this, dammit. Why was she even here?
To sign a stupid contract that was upstairs and needed to be fixed, anyway.
She played with the little cut on her lip from yesterday, remembering the kiss on the rooftop… What was she doing here?
“Anything that comes to mind,” he said.