Chapter 12 #2
“No problem. It’s my job, right?” He waved me toward my stuff, but threw me a wink before I took off. “I also bet Brad a grand that you’d kick her ass. Figuratively, of course. So, I need you to apply this valuable lesson I’m teaching you at our next session.”
My eye roll lacked any true dismissiveness, and his advice would be more necessary than ever with my next sparring partner, so I appreciated it.
After lunch, I’d return to the ring with Vivian, and with the punch I’d landed on Elaine, and the first insight I’d gained on the point of our training sessions, I couldn’t fucking wait.
Unfortunately, when I returned from lunch, pumped for another round of catty bitchiness and ready to put his advice to good use, I wound up disappointed.
Hellbent on sucking the joy out of my life, Vivian didn’t spend our training session baiting me the way Elaine had.
Therefore, she didn’t earn herself a few knocks to the skull.
She spent most of our session discussing technique and strategy with Josh, and I learned Brad Angelise was not going to help me in our training sessions or be an ally for the Maidens in my rebellion plans.
He hit on me two seconds after I sat on my stool in the corner, leaning over the ropes and far too close to my ear. “You know, you’re not bad looking for a poor girl.”
I whipped my head around so fast my neck muscles locked up. “Hard pass.”
His brow furrowed, but he dropped his gaze to my tits at record recovery speed. “What do you mean?”
“Wherever you were going with that brilliant observation”—I twirled my pointer finger in the air, making a circle—“turn it right back around.”
He frowned, pouting just to see if that appealed to me, but when it didn’t, he spent the rest of the time talking about Elaine. I left our session disgruntled and struggling to focus.
Unable to get anything out of my time with Vivian, my mind fixated on my upcoming session with Max, and my next three sessions passed in a blur.
Succession training, led by a Knight named Paul, focused on sequencing and was supposed to come in handy with the Scavenger Hunt and Obstacle Course.
Once I learned we wouldn’t get our first clue until the Ladies’ Dinner that evening, I checked out mentally.
During Escape training with Tristan, he brought up trauma responses, and despite being in the target market for that information, I barely registered his overview.
Sabotage training with Austin was even worse. My rapid heartbeat, thundering louder in my chest with each passing minute, blocked out everything he said. A more apt name for his sessions would’ve been Self-Sabotage.
Thoughts of being alone with Max distracted me so thoroughly I learned nothing. By the time I arrived at the training center, I’d hyper-focused on my plan of attack all day.
I continued to do so while I waited for him to arrive.
When his gruff voice rang out behind me, everything else faded. “What the fuck are you doing?”
My lips twitched, but I kept my expression neutral.
“What’s wrong, Max?” I feigned innocence and deepened my pose, flattening my chest against my extended leg. “I figured you, more than anyone, would know it’s important to stretch before a workout.”
He cursed under his breath, stalking over to the training mat in the center of the room.
Right where I’d laid out into a full split.
My hamstrings were on fucking fire, since it had been a hot minute since I’d done a split, but I suspected it’d be worth it.
Splaying my palms on the ground beside me, I sat up slowly and arched backward. I pushed my tits forward at the same time. And as predicted, Max flicked his gaze down to my chest.
Poor guy.
Couldn’t really blame him, though.
My sports bra, the one Gia had sneakily stowed away in my bag, was a size too small and risqué as hell. It was almost as see-through as the lingerie he’d made me wear in the cabin.
Karma really was a bitch.
But it served its purpose.
A low, stifled growl rumbled in his throat before he could stop it. “Do your boy toys know you’re parading around like that in front of the other Knights?”
“Why do you care, Max Dread?” I smirked, and before he responded, I dropped my head back and showed off the curve of my neck. My lips parted as I pressed back one final time and moaned into the stretch. “Oh, god. That feels good.”
It was completely unnecessary, of course.
But Max cursed again before storming over to the weight bench, so that was good enough for me.
Popping out of the split, I did a forward bend and touched my toes. I rocked from side to side, which was important for hip rotation or whatever, before standing up straight.
When I turned around, Max stood frozen in place. It took a second before he remembered he was putting on an act.
But he got there eventually.
As he picked up his jaw off the floor, I flounced over to him, so pleased with myself I almost asked for praise.
To be fair, the credit wasn’t entirely mine.
My nude workout pants were sheer, so the material became even more transparent when I stretched. Bending like that had no doubt flashed him the faint outline of what he’d dubbed my pretty pussy.
Whoops. Silly me.
I patted his chest. “See anything you like, big guy?”
He snapped his eyes to mine. “This is pathetic.”
“Don’t I know it.”
I propped one hand on my hip while the other toyed with the waistband of my leggings. As my fingers slipped inside the band, Max followed the movement.
While I ran my finger back and forth along the band, he stared transfixed, as if I were a snake charmer. He forgot whatever he’d been about to say, and when I snapped the band against my skin, his head jerked up.
I arched a brow. “You should probably just fuck me already and get it over with. Pretending you don’t want to, when I can clearly see that you do? That is pathetic.”
Flicking my eyes down to the bulge of his cock in his gray fucking sweatpants, I peeked my tongue out to wet my lips.
His ragged inhale of breath accompanied the clenching of his fists. And despite the crude words that came with it, the hint of breathlessness in his low growl pooled desire between my thighs.
“You’re dressed like a hooker and practically begging for it.” His lip curled as he dropped his head. “So, what? My dick responded. That doesn’t mean I want you.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe.” I smacked my lips together.
“Get on the mat,” he ordered. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Ooh. Now, you’re talking.”
I bounced over to the training mat, using his tendency to slip sexual innuendo into his phrasing against him.
Once I stood facing away in the center of the mat, I reached for the clasp of my bra and peeked at him over my shoulder. “Where do you want me, Master?”
As soon as I turned my head, facing forward and undoing the clasp, Max was on my back.
His hot breath panted in my ear.
His cock jutted into the curve of my ass.
And he gripped me so tightly, I squeaked.
Locking one of my wrists over the other, he held me captive with one hand.
“Where do I want you?” He huffed a laugh, his low voice dark and sinful in my ear. “I want you gone. As far away from me and Camelot Court as you can get.”
I wriggled my hips back, my voice breathy and taunting. “Doesn’t feel that way to me.”
As the curve of my ass stroked over the length of his cock, he tightened his grip and drew his hips back.
But he didn’t let me go.
My lips curved with a smile as I rolled my hips slowly, grazing his body just enough to tease.
“Hm.”
“Hm?” he rumbled in my ear. “What’s hm about that?”
I shivered as his breath warmed my skin, but then, even though he was playing right into my hand, I sighed as if this had all become rather tiresome.
“You talk a big game, Max. But if you really wanted me gone, or as far away from you and Camelot Court as I could possibly get, you had the opportunity to make that happen.”
He spun me around to face him.
With my chest pressed against his and his arm banded around my body, he welded us together as if we’d been fused by fire. Readjusting his grip, he kept my wrists locked at the small of my back. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I lifted my chin and laced my voice with a challenge.
“I’m talking about the statute that would have gotten your darling V one step closer to the grand prize.
Drake D’Arthur negotiated a ceasefire now, but that bullet was always in the chamber.
It just didn’t make sense to pull the trigger when other people in the room had loaded guns, right? ”
“Yeah, so?”
He tightened his hold, pressing our bodies together.
Our chests heaved with the force of our breathing, mine desperate to see what he’d do next as he fought to keep up his charade.
Dropping my chin, I stared at where we aligned, and when I glanced back up, his gaze remained on my breasts. They swelled against his chest with my next breath.
His lips parted.
He was so close to giving in, I could almost taste him. “You want me gone so bad, Max?”
When he dragged his gaze away and met mine, my heart pounded. The war in his eyes hurt to witness.
And I was playing with fire.
I knew that, but I couldn’t help but lean into the burn. “You want me as far away as possible?”
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, without an ounce of believability.
“Well, then why didn’t you take me out of the competition when you had the chance?”
His grip tightened reflexively.
“You said you wanted it. Me. You planned to take what was yours…” When his breath shuddered, I leaned in closer. “You said I’d feel you all the way in my chest. Right here.”
As soon as I pressed our hearts together, he released me and stepped back, flinging my hands away as if my skin burned him.
But the intensity of his stare running over my body revealed the lie he uttered next. “I already told you, Quinn…I don’t fuck quitters. And I don’t want to fuck you.”
Before I could say anything else, before I could even draw a breath, he stormed out of the training room, without so much as a backward glance.
I walked on shaky legs to the chair by the mirrors and picked up the hoodie he’d left behind.
As I sat down, I pulled the giant sweatshirt over my head.
The scent of bergamot and earthy spices overpowered my senses, and adrenaline coursed through my body long after he’d left the room.
But I’d been right about him.
And I wasn’t giving up.