Full Contact (Redemption #3)(12)

Skirting around the equipment to keep out of Tag’s line of vision, I head over to the free weights and catch sight of Ray drumrolling a speed bag in the corner. Sweat glistens on his body as he pounds the bag in a steady rhythm, his biceps flexed, the smooth skin on his lats rippling over the hard muscle underneath.

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine I’m a normal girl caught up in a normal fantasy where he dumps Shayla and takes me home, and we have wild, hot, animal sex until neither of us can move. I’ve never had wild, hot, animal sex, but I imagine any sex with Ray would be amazing.

Ray glances up and catches me watching. Without missing a beat, he gives me a wink that makes my cheeks flame and my toes curl. Instinctively, I do what all prey do when spotted by a predator. I run.

Safe in the shadow of the huge elevated cage dominating the center of the warehouse, I sit on a bench and watch from a safe distance where my drooling cannot be easily noticed.

Ray moves from the speed bag to the bench press and Homicide Hank offers to spot him. Wiry, tall, and lanky, Homicide seems ill suited to the job and is indeed rendered redundant when Ray lifts and lowers the massive weight bar without even a tremble of his arms. I try to keep my hormones in check at the incredible display of male strength, but Mother Nature has her own ideas, and within minutes my skin is hot and sweaty, my nipples are tight, and I’m wet down below. I am almost disappointed when Ray and Homicide Hank shake hands and Ray joins me on the bench.

“So how was the date?”

Momentarily befuddled, dragged out of a fantasy where Ray does push-ups over my naked body, I just stare. “What date?”

“The date you had last night.”

My heart sinks. Ray is about the last person I want to talk dates with. “Well…it went as expected. One look at my ink, piercings, pink streak, and leather, and it was all over. It’s like he was expecting Taylor Swift and got Lady Gaga instead.”

His gaze travels over my Coldplay tank top and black leather pants. “A guy who can’t appreciate a sexy woman isn’t worth your time.”

“C’mon.” I give him a little nudge with my elbow. “This look doesn’t scream sexy.”

“You scream sexy.” He strokes a finger along the strap of my tank top and my body stills, need gripping me so hard I can barely breathe.

“I’m not—”

“You got a gym full of men watching you walk across the floor,” he says in a low growl. “Means you’re sexy.”

Oh God. Is he teasing me? Or worse, flirting? What about Shayla? Cheeks burning, I pull a folder from my portfolio. “Here are the designs I promised you.”

But Ray doesn’t take the folder. Instead, he gently strokes the little silver cross in my earlobe. “This what he didn’t like? Your piercings?”

“Who?”

“The moron from last night.”

Warm fuzzies spread through my body and I lower the folder. “Actually, I didn’t tell him all the places I’m pierced.”

Ray’s hand stills, and his eyes darken almost to black. “Not letting that one go. Where else are you pierced?”

Delighted at finally gaining the upper hand, I lean in and whisper, “Secret.”

His eyes bore into mine, drilling into my soul, as if he expects my secrets to reveal themselves if he digs far enough. But I’m an expert at keeping secrets. My fortress is impenetrable.

“Sia!” Tag’s shout echoes through the gym and I groan. Although I knew getting in and out undetected was a long shot, I had still hoped.

“He doesn’t like me coming here.” I mumble under my breath. “He thinks it’s too dangerous. I had hoped to avoid detection.”

“Got it.”

Pushing myself to my feet, I mentally prepare for the showdown. What I’m not prepared for is Ray, standing beside me, angling his body slightly to shield me from the oncoming Tag storm. Although calm and quiet on the outside, I can sense violence simmering beneath the surface. Is he protecting me? From Tag?

“What’s going on? I told you not to come here.” Tag’s naturally loud voice attracts some unwanted attention and nausea roils my gut.

“Calm down.” I hold up my art case, warding him away. “I don’t want to cause a scene. I just came to bring Ray some designs.”

He glares at Ray. “You couldn’t have gone to her tattoo parlor? You had to make her come out to f*cking Ghost Town?”

“Hey! You’re outta line.” I move forward, but Ray steps in front of me, blocking my way. The gesture is so subtle, I’m not sure if it was intentional. “I wanted to come out here,” I say to Tag. “This is business. Plus, I miss hanging with the guys and watching you drill the new recruits and making them cry.”

My joke falls flat and Tag scowls, but not at me. He huffs and puffs, and for a moment I wonder if he’s going to blow Ray down.

“Not lookin’ for a fight, Fuzz.” Although his hands hang loosely by his sides, I’ve watched enough fights to know Ray is anything but relaxed. “I’ll watch out for her,” he continues, his voice low and even. “We got tats to talk about.”

Before Tag can even splutter a word, Ray places his hand on my lower back and guides me toward the door. At least I think he’s guiding me. My entire body is focused on his warm, firm hand pressed up against my back, sending waves of molten pleasure through my body.