Full Contact (Redemption #3)(58)

“I can’t hurt you like that.”

“Pain pays for the pleasure.” He reaches down and pinches my nipple, finding my piercing through my clothes and pulling it so hard I gasp. “Pleasure me. Take me deep.”

And I do. I lean forward and take him in my mouth again, trying to relax my throat when he pushes in so far I gag. He pulls back just enough for me to recover, then holds my head still and plunges in again.

Pressure builds inside me, and I rock my hips frantically against my hand as he drives deep and withdraws, his thighs taut and quivering beneath my other palm.

Sweat beads on my forehead as I fight back the fear of losing control. This is what I fantasized about. Rough, not gentle. Used, not pampered. Dominated instead of dominating. I wanted the Predator—raw, wild, untamed. And now I have him.

“Do it,” he rasps, pressing my hand against his leg. “Now. Let me feel your claws, kitten.”

I grip his leg, digging my nails into his skin. This is as much pain as I can give, and even this is too much for me.

Ray’s entire body goes rigid and the sound that comes from his chest is at once a growl and a groan. His hand tightens on my hair so hard, my eyes water, and his shaft thickens until it is a struggle to take him all.

“Sia.” He arches into my mouth, yanking me forward to meet his impatient thrusts. So rough. So dirty. So damn confusing. But I feel—every emotion, every sensation.

His cock swells; then he comes with a groan, driving so deep I gag as he spurts down my throat.

“Jesus. Fuck.” With a roar, he rips himself away, leaving me stunned and panting on the floor. And then I see the blood, four little crescents from my nails in his skin.

“Oh God. I hurt you. I’m so sorry. Let me wash it. I didn’t mean for it to go so far.”

“Neither did I.” His voice flattens. “That’s a side of me I didn’t mean to share.”

Fear and confusion give way to anger. Why doesn’t he want to share himself when he asks the same of me? “I know you like pain. I know you get off when I use the tattoo machine on you. It’s okay with me. Why don’t you want to share it?”

“Because when I’m around you, I lose control. I don’t know how far I’ll go.” He grabs his jeans and yanks them over his hips.

“I like who you are, Ray. I want to know about you and what you need.”

He pulls on his T-shirt, wincing slightly from the fresh tattoo. “I don’t want you to be part of my pain. I failed the people I cared about most, and I gotta live with that for the rest of my days. You’ve got your own demons to deal with. I won’t give you mine.”

Stunned speechless, I watch him turn and walk away.





Chapter 16


Who is he? Gimme a name.

Priority: Confidential

Bay Area Underground Fight Club (BUFC) Fight Night

Abandoned Church. Fell and Fillmore. 8 p.m.

Headlining: Fuzzy vs. Renegade

Code Word: Styx

“What the hell is he thinking?” Heart pounding, I push myself out of my seat and slam the door to my Volvo, now parked outside Tag’s apartment building. On the other side of the vehicle, Jess does the same.

“He can’t fight anymore. His arm”—my voice catches, breaks—“and his shoulder. They never healed right. The doctor told him he couldn’t fight again.”

“We’ll talk him out of it.” Jess catches up with me on the walkway to Tag’s apartment and gives my arm a firm squeeze. “Or…you’ll talk him out of it and I’ll back you up.”

“Did he say anything to you about it when he went to your apartment the other night?” I press the buzzer for Tag’s apartment. “Did he say anything that would explain why he decided to challenge Renegade?”

Jess shakes her head. “It was just…strange. He came to my place, totally distraught, but he didn’t want to talk. I suggested we watch TV, so we sat on the couch for a few hours. Then he said he had to go. I got the feeling he wanted to say something and needed to work up the nerve, so when he called again the next day, I invited him over. But it was just more of the same. If you ask me, he needs some serious help.”

I press the buzzer again and again. “I think you’re right. He’s too deep into this case. He wouldn’t talk to me, so I called my parents, but they had no luck either.”

But Tag isn’t at his apartment or the gym, and he isn’t answering his phone. And by the time we get to the abandoned church for the fight, Tag is already in one corner and Jake a.k.a. Renegade is in the other.

For the first time, I don’t have the usual pang of longing when Jake rakes his hand through his blond curls. Instead, I imagine dark hair, thick and neatly cut and sky-blue eyes. And then I remember spending the last two nights at Jess’s place because I couldn’t bear to be in my apartment alone. Despite my best intentions, I got involved—so involved that the thought of never seeing Ray again is a physical, tangible pain that takes my breath away.

“Tag.” I race around to his side of the makeshift ring. “What are you doing? You know you can’t fight.”

A pained expression crosses his face. “I was meant to be a fighter, and I left it all behind seven years ago. I need to get back in the ring, do what I was meant to do. Who knows when I may need these skills again?”