Take Down, page 8
He cocked an eyebrow and didn’t answer. “Stay away from Darcy.” He turned to go, and this time she grabbed him, her fingers curling into the hard muscle of his arm beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. He could’ve pulled away, but he didn’t.
“Are we going to pretend that kiss didn’t happen?”
“Yeah. We are.” He gently pulled free from her grip and started walking away, but she followed him.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer, just kept moving through the restaurant.
“Why didn’t you call me back?” she asked.
He stopped and turned, and she almost crashed right into him. “Because us—this,” he said, gesturing between them, “can’t happen.”
“Why?”
His jaw clenched and he started moving again.
She followed, working to keep up with his long strides in her heels. “Would you just talk to me?”
“Nothing to say,” he said over his shoulder, making his way toward the back of the restaurant. He turned a corner, leading them into a much quieter, empty hallway that led to the kitchen and the bathrooms.
“Why did you kiss me?” She took a step toward him. “If we can’t happen—for whatever reason—why did you kiss me?”
He turned, his expression hungry and fierce. “We can’t happen because I can’t give you what you want, and you won’t like what I can give you.” His chest heaved, as though he were struggling for control.
“You don’t know anything about what I want. Clearly.” She took another step toward him. “Because I’ve been wanting you for weeks now, Gabe, and you’re pretending there’s nothing between us.”
“Ah, fuck,” he growled out. Something flashed in his eyes, something hot and possessive and challenging. He moved into her space, backing her up against the wall and caging her in with his body. His hands came up, cradling her face with a firm grip as he tipped her head back and closed his mouth over hers in a deep, bruising kiss.
She gasped and then melted into him, her bones liquefying at the sensation of his tongue stroking hungrily against hers. She moved to slip her arms around his shoulders, but before she could, he took his hands from her face and pinned her arms roughly against the wall, his fingers circling her wrists. She flexed her hands and he tightened his grip, restraining her. She knew he would’ve let her go had she pulled her hands away, but . . . she didn’t want to. Something washed over her as she submitted to his touch, a calming thrill that made her feel both awake and free.
For once, she wasn’t worrying about if the man she was with liked what she was doing, or if he was finding her lacking in some way. She didn’t feel the usual insecurity or doubt that came with getting physical with someone—all she felt was good. As though giving him that control over her body switched off her brain, making it the simplest thing in the world to just feel and enjoy and be.
He broke the kiss, scraping his teeth over her bottom lip as he pulled away, the sting of pain only intensifying the pleasure thrumming through her. Their eyes met, and his were dark, hooded with desire. He held her gaze, and something passed between them. A challenge. An understanding. Lust and want.
“You take your hands off that wall, I stop. Understand?” His voice was low, husky, and sent a ripple of need through her. She pressed harder into the wall and nodded, thrilled at obeying him. At letting him take control. Of giving up her power, because she didn’t want to think or worry. She just wanted to feel.
“Good girl,” he growled, taking his hands from her wrists and sliding one into her hair, the other tracing over her collarbone. With a hard grip, he tilted her head to the side and trailed rough, biting kisses up the side of her neck, his stubble rasping against her overly sensitive skin. Her hips jerked toward him as pleasure churned through her, her entire body throbbing for him. She felt the twinge of pain that always came with arousal, but then soared past it as he sucked at the skin just below her ear. The fact that she wasn’t allowed to touch him only turned her on even more.
He was being rough with her, taking what he wanted, using her for his own pleasure, and maybe it was twisted, but something about that made her feel sexier than she ever had in her life. Her clit throbbed and her muscles clenched at how much she liked all of that, wanting more of it, wanting to explore it.
His other hand came up over her breast, palming it. Her nipple beaded to the point of aching, and she arched into his touch, wanting more.
So much more.
He pulled down the thin strap of her dress and slipped his hand inside, beneath her strapless bra. She moaned at the sensation of his calloused palm on her bare breast. He sank his teeth into the juncture where her neck met her shoulder and pinched her nipple, harder than she would’ve thought she liked, but as searing pleasure arrowed through her, she let it take over, not thinking, not questioning anything.
“Such gorgeous tits,” he whispered against her skin, kneading her aching breast, and she felt as though fire were slowly spreading through her body. “They’d look so good streaked with my come.”
Her entire body jolted at his words, but she kept her hands on the wall, not wanting this to be over. “Holy shit,” she breathed, feeling as though she were about to come out of her skin, arousal taking over, not as a feeling, but a state of being.
He pulled his head back and their eyes met. Oh God. She wanted to be whatever Gabe wanted. Whatever he needed, as long as he kept looking at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life, wonder and awe and desire all mixed together in his eyes.
His mouth crashed back down on hers, his kiss hard and deep as though he was trying to claim her. But he didn’t need to try, because he already had.
With startling clarity, she knew that this man could be her everything.
He moaned against her mouth and dropped his hands to her hips, slipping his muscled thigh between her legs, her tight dress riding up. He went still as his thigh made contact with her pussy, aching and ready for whatever he wanted to give her.
“Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.” With a firm grip on her hips, he guided her up and down his thigh, the friction driving her insane because it felt so good, yet it wasn’t enough.
She moaned again as he worked her against his thigh, pulling her higher so she could feel the ridge of his cock against her, thick and hard and huge. Her stomach fluttered as her muscles clenched. What would he feel like inside her?
“You like this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Like didn’t even touch how she felt about this. It was the single most arousing experience of her life. Period. “Yes.” The lone syllable was all she could manage.
Leaving his thigh between her legs, he slid his hands down her thighs and to the edge of her skirt, playing at the hem. “If we were alone, I would rip this off of you,” he said, slipping his hands up under her skirt. His palms were warm and rough against her skin, his fingertips tracing the edge of her panties. With excruciatingly gentle contact, he slid one finger up and down her slit, playing with her over her soaked panties, sending pleasure curling over her skin. She squirmed and whimpered as he stroked her with a slow, sure touch.
“So fucking wet,” he said, his voice heavy with approval, and she sighed. “So beautiful, Megan, fuck.”
The sound of laughter erupted from around the corner, and he jerked away from her, tugging her dress back into place, shielding her with his body. Reluctantly, she dropped her hands from the wall, wanting to scream with frustration, wanting to take her disappointment out on whoever had interrupted them.
Nick came around the corner, pulling up short when he saw them. He swayed a bit on his feet, a frown on his face.
“Megan, is this guy bothering you?” he asked, his words slightly slurred.
“No, no, everything’s fine,” she said, her voice coming out higher than she’d intended. Blood rushed to her face as the reality of what had just happened with Gabe crashed into her, as though her brain had just switched back on and was scrambling to catch up.
Nick just stared at them for a second and then started toward the men’s room. He pointed at Gabe. “Watching you, Maddox.” He gestured between his eyes and Gabe before stumbling into the bathroom.
“I . . . I have to go,” she stammered out, adjusting her dress, not looking at Gabe. She needed some air, some time, some space away from him to think. To try to make sense of how she’d responded to him.
He didn’t say anything and let her slip past him. She kept moving, the party a blur around her, until she pushed out onto the terrace, gulping down lungfuls of cold night air.
She would’ve let him have sex with her, right in the middle of that hallway, which was completely out of character for her, and the realization left her feeling unsettled. But she’d wanted him, had liked the way he’d wanted to use her, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that now that his hands weren’t on her anymore. She’d lost herself in it, and the ease and speed with which that had happened scared her. So much about Gabe scared her. The intensity of her attraction to him. The way she couldn’t shake him from her mind, as much as she tried. How he’d dominated her, been rough with her in a way she shouldn’t have liked, and yet she’d practically been begging for more.
Taking another deep breath, she wrapped her arms around herself. Maybe he’d been right to try to warn her off.
Maybe she needed to stay away from Gabriel Maddox.
8
GABE TAPPED HIS hand against his thigh as he stood looking out the window of Craig Darcy’s office, waiting for the man to join him. He was late for their meeting, but that was hardly a surprise. Darcy operated on his own schedule. The longer it took him to get here, the longer Gabe could put off this discussion, which was fine by him.
The large window looked out over a strip mall, but the distant mountains were what drew Gabe’s eye. It had been months since he’d last gone rock climbing. Sometimes he went alone, but he usually went with a couple of guys from the gym. They’d stay a whole weekend, climbing and hiking before falling into an exhausted sleep under the stars. The therapist he’d seen after the accident had suggested learning a new activity when she’d realized how athletic he was. Gabe had chosen rock climbing because he’d had a friend who’d shown him how to get started, and Gabe had kept it up. A weekend away from everything, pushing his body to its limit, was a good way to clear his mind. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t.
Sometimes he used sex instead.
The first time he’d discovered sex as an outlet to deal with his pain was one night after a fight in Chicago, almost two years after the accident. He’d won and a woman had come on to him at the bar. She’d been beautiful and eager. Drunk on adrenaline, he’d gone home with her and had been happy to oblige when she’d pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold and asked him to put them on her. It was the first time in a long time he’d been able to be with a woman without feeling guilty. Oh, the guilt had come later, but for those couple of hours, he’d been someone else. The sex had been like a scene in a dream. He’d been a part of it, but separate from it at the same time.
After that night, he’d decided to chase that high. It had taken him a while to become comfortable with this new lifestyle. Sex wasn’t sex as he’d known it before. It was different. Less emotional. Satisfying in a whole new way. The guilt had eventually gone away altogether. Now it was just him and whichever woman he was with that night and the roles they were playing. While he was in the hotel room, he could let everything about Gabriel Maddox fall away. It wasn’t about him. It wasn’t about the woman. It was simply about bringing them both pleasure. That was why he never brought them to his home; it was easier to pretend that way. Afterward, he’d feel numb, and numb was good. The numbness usually lasted for a week or two, and then he’d do it all over again. Which reminded him that it’d been well over a month since he’d last had sex, because he was anything but numb now.
Megan had made sure of that. The feel of her tiny body in his hands, submissive and responsive as she gave in to him in the restaurant, was still fresh on his mind. Three goddamn days and he still remembered her taste, how fucking wet she’d been for him, and her smell. The scent of her had lingered on his fingers after he’d touched her pussy through her panties. He nearly groaned as his whole body tightened at the memory. If Nick hadn’t interrupted them, Gabe knew he’d have fucked her with his fingers, gotten her off right there in the hallway. He never made out like that in public, like some teenager, but something had come over him and he hadn’t been able to control himself.
He wanted Megan. No other woman would do for him, because every time he thought of calling another, she forced her way back into his thoughts. That wouldn’t change until he fucked her and got her out of his system. He knew that she wanted him too. Even better, now he knew that she wanted what he could give her. Her body had lit up for him when he’d barked orders at her, and she’d been so damn good at following them. But she’d clearly been shocked by how she’d reacted to him, so he’d given her some space and left the party soon after.
He’d call her soon, though.
“Maddox.” Darcy’s voice announced he’d arrived a second before he walked through the open door of his office.
Gabe turned to see that he was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, his short blond hair still damp as if he’d just taken a shower. “Morning, boss.”
Darcy paused to toss his gym bag behind his desk before walking over to shake Gabe’s hand. “Came from the gym. I thought I’d see you down there. What time did you get in this morning?”
Gabe shook his head. “Six. Just like every morning.”
Darcy let out a low whistle. “You’re a machine.”
Gabe had learned early on after the accident to follow a strict routine. If every minute of his day was planned out, then he didn’t have time to think. Thinking meant dwelling on what had happened and that led to dark places filled with guilt, anger, and sadness. He’d tried to drown those feelings with alcohol and painkillers. But after waking up to an empty bottle of Jack one too many times, his mom had urged him to go to therapy. He’d been reluctant at first, damn near defiant about it, but therapy had helped get him back on track.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been in here. Looks good.” Changing the subject, Gabe held his hand out to gesture to Darcy’s office. Six months ago, there’d been a desk and a stack of boxes waiting to be unpacked. Now there was a sitting area in front of the tall windows with plush leather couches and a bar with a mini-fridge off to the side. None of it looked cheap. It indicated the league was doing well financially, which was great, but Gabe wondered even more why that profit wasn’t trickling down to the fighters.
Darcy nodded. “Thanks. Feels like I’ve been working out of cardboard boxes for years. It’s good to be settled.”
Gabe knew how much Darcy had put into this league to get it up and running, and he didn’t want to come across as ungrateful, but it was time to let him know how the fighters felt. He tossed a glance to the open door when Darcy’s assistant, Deb, walked by, humming along with whatever music played through the earbuds she wore. “You mind if we shut the door?”
Darcy immediately looked wary. “Shit, you’re not here to tell me Imperial wants you back, are you?” He walked over and closed the door.
“Nah. They do, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Darcy looked only slightly appeased and gestured for Gabe to take a seat on the far couch before sitting on the other. “Then what’s going on? Your mom okay?”
“Yeah, she’s good. It’s nothing like that.” Clearing his throat, he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his legs. “Look, boss, I’m sure this won’t come as a surprise to you, but some of the guys aren’t happy about the deal you made with Mereo.”
“Jesus Christ,” Darcy muttered and shifted forward. “Is this about that goddamn article? I knew better than to let Megan do that story. Jules talked me into it.”
A wave of protectiveness rose up within him at the mention of Megan. “The article has nothing to do with it. The guys have been pissed about it ever since their payouts started declining. Megan must’ve heard someone talking shit when she was researching.”
Darcy snorted and shook his head. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to get a company to take this league, this sport, seriously? For years, no one wanted anything to do with us. They laughed every time I approached them with a deal. Now we have Dragon Energy, Geico—hell, ESPN is talking to us. Mereo has opened a lot of doors.”
Gabe nodded. “That’s great, but it doesn’t address the money they’re losing with each fight, some as much as fifty thousand. For others, it’s only a few thousand, but those are the ones most hurt. You were a kid out there taking fights, training, and working your ass off to make it. You know how much it costs to train. Those guys depend on the money from sponsors to make it from fight to fight.”
“I do know, Gabe. I unloaded trucks at night, worked in warehouses, did whatever I could to make money to train and feed my kid. I did it; so can they. Back then, we were lucky to get free shoes from a sponsor, much less a couple grand for wearing a patch on our shorts.”
Gabe sighed and tried to figure out another way to make Darcy understand. “Things have changed since your days in Boston. Shit, they’ve changed since I was starting out in San Diego ten years ago. There’s more competition now. Training is more expensive. And it’s not enough to be good in one discipline. Now we need coaches for wrestling, sparring, judo . . . the list goes on.”
“It’s what it takes now to be the best,” Darcy agreed, and Gabe wasn’t sure if he was deliberately missing the point.
“Sure, but what chance does a kid have nowadays unless his parents are loaded? We’re not all Oliveiras with trust funds.”
Darcy sat back and put his ankle on his left knee. “You’re doing fine. Giannakis is fine. The WFC invites elite fighters to train at our facilities. You think that’s free? The WFC pays for it with help from Mereo.”
