Love Tap(71)

“You did good today,” he whispers, his voice husky from the thick silence.

“I didn’t know what to say or do. I feel… I just want to fight, you know,” I reply, still staring out the window. His chest rises, as an exhale slowly spills from him.

“I know, but it’s a part of it. You need to make sure this is what you want, because if you win… this part of the process, the lights and cameras, it’s going to get worse.” His hand stops as he speaks from experience.

“I know,” I mutter under my breath. Using my hands I push myself up, and look down at him. His hair is a mess from laying on it. Trailing my fingers along his abdomen I come across the scar.

I trace it with the pad of my finger.

“Why won’t you tell me what happened?” I ask, flicking my eyes to his. “Is this why you don’t want to compete anymore?”

Growing irritated, he grabs me by the hips and sets me to the side as if I weigh next to nothing, my breasts jiggling from the movement. I bite at my lip to keep from getting angry. I wish he’d just tell me already.

“Why won’t you trust me? Is it because you think I’ll leave again? Is it that bad?” I push.

He jerks his head my way, his brows pulled together. The look of pain that crosses his face I know I hit the nail on the head. He doesn’t want to tell me because he thinks I’ll leave.

Reaching out, I caress his arm. “I’m not going anywhere Camden.”

“It’s not just that. The way you look at me now, I’m afraid you won’t look at me the same.”

“I love your kind of crazy.”

He sits up on the bed, his fingers tugging his hair.

“I can’t tell you everything, because I can’t—”

“Can’t, or won’t?” I interrupt.

Letting his hands fall from his hair, he tilts his head and gives me a look that makes my toes curl.

“Can’t,” he deadpans. “I was in a fight, and it went horribly wrong.” He looks down at his hands, his mind in a different place. “More than blood escaped me that day. Something evil, something I never thought I was capable of.”

“Like what?” My voice light, almost scared to ask.

He slowly glances my way, and I instantly regret asking.

“I killed someone.”

I hold my breath, my eyes widening. Surely I didn’t hear him right.

“You… killed someone?” Shivers run up my back repeating the words.

He looks back down, flexing his fingers. It’s as if he’s back in that fight, replaying it all out. He looks broken.

“Yes. I killed someone.” I look the other way, closing my eyes. My mind races, trying to think if I ever heard anything on TV about it but nothing pops up.

“Was it on TV? I never heard anything about it.”

“No, it was a private fight and everything was covered up.” The way he snaps his reply, I know he’s about done talking about the subject.

“So that is why you won’t get back in the ring,” I more state than ask.

“I was lined up for another fighter shortly after that one, but when I got in the octagon, I didn’t feel like I had when I stepped foot into it before. It felt like a cage. I felt like an animal. When my opponent walked into the cage, I wanted to rip him apart.” He stops, and I glance his way, finding hooded eyes staring right at me. I cross my arms, not sure what to say. I never thought Camden was capable of murder.

“They say when you kill someone, the second time is a lot easier… They were right.” His voice is laced with malicious intent, almost like he gets off on the idea of hurting someone, and I have to admit it scares me.

Quickly he maneuvers over me, his body hovering above mine until I have no choice but to lay flat on the mattress.

“I knew then that I couldn’t be in a cage again and not kill someone. It was one of the hardest things I had to do, next to letting you go. So I drank, and I sabotaged my career.”

My hand raises, and I palm his face. He closes his eyes, nestling into my hand.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person Camden,” I whisper.

His eyes pop open, and he grabs my hand, stopping my tender caress.

“That’s because you weren’t the other person in the ring with me.”

My eyes narrow, my heart thudding in my chest.

“I know you, and I know you don’t want to hurt anyone.”

He smirks. “You knew a boy. I’m a f*cking man now, don’t confuse the two. Understand?” He tilts his head to the side, and his large hand grabs my thigh, wrapping it around his waist. His hips thrust forward and his hard length presses into my clit just right.

He pushes forward and his length spreads me open, filling me to the brink.

“Camden Fucking Steele, celebrity by day, murderer by night.” He drives his length into me so hard a moan spills from my throat as pressure builds in my toes and coils up my legs.

My fingers fly at the sheets, clawing them as pleasure quickly spreads up my limbs like wild fire. The idea that Camden is a murderer fades as quickly as it came.

He fists my hair with one hand, his other grabbing my bare tit like a lifeline. His fingers pressing into the soft skin so hard it bruises.

I breathe in the pain, and moan out a mewl of satisfaction.