In Your Corner (10 page)

The
Submission
Master?
My body tingles and my mouth waters.
YES, PLEASE!

Drake removes Ken from between my legs and gives me a thoughtful look. “You want me to help you out?”

“Did you bring a body bag with you?” My voice drips with sarcasm. “Apparently, although Renegade and I are not together in any meaningful way, I’m not to be touched, looked at, or share the same air as any man in Redemption. According to Fuzzy and Shilla the Killa, you’re taking your life in your hands just by helping me.”

“It’s just a basic submission.” Drake gives me a wicked grin. “And I’ve always wanted to go a few rounds in the ring with Renegade, maybe wipe away the scowl that always appears on his face when he sees me.”

“It’s your funeral…Doctor Death.” I manage to say this without laughing. So long as Drake’s head doesn’t fall into my now throbbing sex, I should be good.

“I’ll take the dominant position.” Drake kneels in front of me and motions for me to spread my legs.

My throat thickens and I part my legs to accommodate his muscular body. “Okay.”

He crawls over top of me and drops his weight to his elbows. His body is warm and heavy on mine. Oh God. It’s been too long since I’ve had a man. And Drake was my last. My body heats at his familiar touch and I focus on keeping still.

Bad
body. Don’t think about sex. Fires. Insurance companies. Wills. Documents.

But how can I not think about sex when Drake is throwing around words like
dominant, submission, mount, and pound
? What it would be like to have Jake show me the moves, his body mounting me, his voice driving me to submission. My cheeks flush and I turn my head so Drake doesn’t see. Rampage is demonstrating a rear naked choke to one of my classmates. What I wouldn’t give for a rear naked…

“You ready for the submission?” Drake is not totally unaffected by this position. His cheeks are flushed, his voice deeper. Thank God, he’s wearing a cup. At least, I think he’s wearing a cup.

“Ready.” I swing my leg around his neck and pull his right arm between us toward my breast as I lift my other leg to his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Jake’s angry voice cracks through the whirr of machines, the grunts and thuds of sparring partners, and the low hum of training chatter.

“Now the fun begins.” Although his eyes glitter, amused, Drake beats a hasty retreat off my body. Rampage helps him up, murmuring he should have known better and asking if he has a will and can he have Drake’s locker because it is in a prime spot right near the shower.

My breath leaves me in a rush as Jake stalks across the mats in a fury like I’ve never seen before. His face is stark white, eyes cold and hard, jaw tight. But it isn’t fear that makes my heart pound and my knees week—it’s Jake…in his crisp, white jiu-jitsu gi, a black belt tied tight around his hips.

Oh God. How could I have forgotten how hot he looks in his gi? I mentally make a shopping list for the weekend: Submission Master, check. Gi and black belt for Submission Master, check. Vibrator, check.

Jake’s gi flaps open as he walks, giving me a glimpse of the muscles rippling across his chest. The cut of the jacket emphasizes his broad shoulders and the belt is tight around his narrow hips. The stiff material swishes angrily with his every step. He looks powerful, dangerous. Predatory. I cannot tear my eyes away.

Without breaking his stride, he pushes through my puzzled classmates and hits Drake in the chest with the palm of his hand. I can imagine that hand breaking boards and smashing bricks. I can imagine it caressing my breasts, stroking my thighs…

“Whoa.” Rampage steps between them. “Just a class, man. Doctor Death was just helping out. Grapple Man didn’t do it for your girl, so he stepped in.”

Jake’s gaze slides to me on my back, legs bent and apart, cheeks flushed. Maybe this is a good time to shut down the submission position. I pull myself up and then jump to my feet.

“Don’t move.” Jake growls at me without taking his eyes off Drake.

“We were doing a triangle.” Drake explains. “Grapple Man kept kissing her pussy, so I thought I’d step in and…”

“Oh Christ.” Rampage sighs and shakes his head. “Doctor Death has a death wish tonight.”

The small crowd around us stills. Even cheeky, overly confident Drake pales and steps back when Jake hisses out a breath.

Too late.

Jake strikes like a cobra. One minute he is in front of Rampage, the next he is behind Drake, an elbow around Drake’s neck in an actual rear naked choke hold.
As
seen
on
television. Don’t try this at home
. Drake goes down. Drake jumps up. Now Drake is angry too. More people gather.

“Renegade. Stop.” My feeble words go unheard as Jake lunges at Drake and goes for a double leg takedown. Drake hits the mat hard and rolls, taking Jake with him. Suddenly Drake is in full mount. The crowd cheers.

Jake manages to extricate himself from Drake’s submission hold and jumps to his feet. He charges as Drake struggles to his knees and Drake goes flying across the mat. He lands with a loud thump and a string of curses. Without slowing, Jake lets loose with some boxing-type punches. He throws knees and Drake gets him off balance, taking him down and then following with an elbow to Jake’s abdomen. Drake leaps to his feet but Jake stays on his back. I give Rampage a worried glance, but his eyes are wide with wonder.

“Didya see that? Drake grabbed a guillotine but Renegade popped out.”

“Huh?”

Jake lands a big uppercut then just misses Drake with an impressive spinning turn followed by a powerful elbow strike. Drake dives down for a clinch, and the sharp blast of a whistle cuts through the cheers of the crowd.

“Fuzzy?”

Rampage sighs. “Fuzzy.”

Within moments, the floor is clear. The crowd is disbursed. Rampage and the class are back on the mats under the grapple dummies. Fuzzy has the two miscreants on the bleachers and glares at them like they’ve committed a crime. I sit beside Jake, guilt gnawing at my stomach. I should have sent Drake away.

“We’ve got a rule here about fighting outside the ring,” Fuzzy barks. Then he glares at Drake. “And you know better than to mess with someone’s girl in the gym.”

Drake’s eyes flick to me and then back to Fuzzy. “Didn’t know they were together. I was just helping out. Amanda and I are good friends.”

Jake growls softly, then leans back on the bleachers and drapes his arm over my shoulders, jerking me into his side. Possessive. Challenging. His legs are spread, his body seemingly relaxed, but his jaw is tight, and his hands clenched into fists.

Silence.

Fuzzy sighs and dismisses Drake, promising to think up a suitable punishment by the end of the evening.

After Drake leaves, Fuzzy glares at Jake and nods toward the side door. “Fists of Fury offered to finish up your class. I have to write up a formal warning for both you and Doctor Death. You might consider paying attention to the rules because friend or no friend, you know Torment won’t hesitate to boot your ass out the door if you pull this kind of stunt again.”

Jake grunts his understanding but doesn’t move.

“You’d better get back to your class,” Fuzzy says to me. “Rampage has your Grapple Man waiting for you. I think Shilla the Killa is free. She’ll be able to help you out.”

Jake’s hand tightens on my shoulder. “I’ll help her. She’s missed most of the class anyway.”

Nonononononononono
. My wish wasn’t a real wish. More like a passing fantasy.

Fuzzy looks from me to Jake and back to me. “Maybe that’s not a good idea.”

“Definitely not,” I say softly.

“Don’t care if it’s a good idea.” Jake gets to his feet and pulls me up, then tucks me under his arm. “That’s what’s going to happen.”

Jake ushers me over to the corner. He gestures me down and we sit cross-legged facing each other as he runs through the three different techniques he is going to teach me. As he talks, his face softens and his eyes light up. His explanations are clear and simple. He gives examples, asks me questions, and is infinitely patient when I struggle with the answers.

As he talks, my mind drifts back to the night we met in his kickboxing class. Even then his passion for teaching drew me in, warmed my heart. He is in his element and I wonder how he could have given it up—or how I could have given up on him.

“Amanda.”

I startle when I realize he’s been talking and I haven’t been paying attention. My cheeks burn and I meet his stern gaze. “Sorry.”

“I said I heard about what you did for Homicide tonight.”

“I didn’t—”

“And Rampage and Obsidian.”

“I haven’t—”

“And that you aren’t charging the fighters to run the case against the idiots from Hellhole.”

“I couldn’t…”

His face softens and he reaches up to cup my jaw, stroking his thumb over my cheek. “You’re really something, baby, but you can’t help everyone. You won’t stay afloat if you do everything for free.”

With a shrug, I look away. “They helped me out. I’m just returning the favor.”

“You’re more than returning the favor. No one here will forget what you do for them. And neither will I.”

Finally, it is time for the demonstration. Jake positions me on my back, his gi rustling as he moves. Then he kneels between my legs. For the first time, I notice he is still pumped from the fight. The vein in his neck is throbbing, his hands clench and unclench, and power simmers beneath his skin. He is all red-hot alpha male. Testosterone oozes from his pores. And in that gi, his chest slightly bared, danger clinging to him like a cloak, my body responds with a violent shudder of need. What would happen if I set him off?

“Hands out of the way. I’m going to mount. We’ll try it first from the closed guard.”

God, yes. Mount me. Mount me.

He leans over me, his hips between my thighs, and rests his hands on my chest. My breasts swell instantly, nipples hardening to tight peaks.

“Closed guard means your hands are around my neck, feet up on my back around my hips.” He is breathing harder now, but not as hard as me.

“I feel like a baby opossum,” I murmur as I take the required position. “They also like to hang upside down by their hands and feet.”

Jake’s lips quiver with a repressed smile and his voice softens. “
My
baby opossum. And no one touches her but me.”

Except he didn’t want to touch me in my office. Gah. I can’t handle this hot and cold. Push and pull. Trying to figure him out is making my brain ache.

“We’ll try the gogoplata first.”

I wiggle my hips from side to side. “Sounds like a dance.”

“Stop,” he grits through clenched teeth. “It’s a serious move.”

“So is this.” I give another wiggle and Jake hisses in a breath.

“You’re not being serious. You’re being tempting. And if you keep that up, it will be the Submission Master for you.”

“Now who’s being tempting?”

I’m pushing him but I can’t help myself. Everything MMA oozes sex, and Jake in his gi is just too much. I want him. I want to drive him crazy with lust. As crazy as me. And then I’m going to walk away so he knows how it feels to be left hanging.

“Who came up with that name ‘Submission Master’?” I murmur. “It turns me on just to say it.”

Jake jerks back until he is on his knees between my legs. “Christ, Amanda. I’m trying to teach you something. It’s hard enough just mounting you, but when you talk like that…”

Amused, I push myself to my elbows. “I’m talking fight talk. Don’t I have the words right?
Submission, master, ground, pound, dominate, dominant, mount, rear naked choke hold
…can we do that one next?”

Jake’s chest heaves and he studies me—focused, intent. Then his eyes narrow as if he’s made a decision and it’s not going to be good for me. His voice drops to a low, threatening growl, and I shiver. “Don’t play a game you’re not prepared to lose.”

Duly warned, I capitulate. “Okay.”

With quiet patience, he talks me through the rest of the move, which involves him mounting me again and resting one hand flat on my breast while I pull his other hand through and tuck his body firmly between my thighs.

Desire rushes through me like a tidal wave. Jake, hot and heavy, sexy and dangerous, lying on top of me, is more than I can take. His lips are so close it is everything I can do not to take a little taste. I want him so badly, I ache inside. I need to know if Rampage is right and he really thinks I’m his girl.

“Baby? You all right?”

His old term of endearment almost does me in. Oh God. It would be so easy to fall for him again. So gorgeous. So confident. So sexy. But I can’t let myself get emotionally hung up on him. I couldn’t handle it when he got close before. What would happen if he got close again? My heart thuds anxiously. Torn between fear and desire, I loosen my grip. He’s right. I can’t play this game because I don’t want to lose.

“Why did you drop your guard?” he murmurs. “You’re only halfway through the submission.”

“I can’t do this,” I rasp. “Please…just…get off me.”

His eyes darken to an azure blue and his body stiffens. He shifts his position and takes his weight on his elbows now positioned on either side of my head. But his hips are still pressed tight against mine. And…Oh God. He’s not wearing a cup and he’s as aroused as I am.

“Why?” His breath brushes over my cheek and my body trembles with need and the effort not to act on my most carnal desires.

Almost dizzy with the onslaught of emotion and the rush of blood through my veins, I can barely get the words out. “Jake…please…get off.”

His voice drops to a low, commanding growl. “Tell me why.”

I look around for someone to help me, but we are very much alone in our shadowy corner. I take several deep breaths, but my heart continues to pound. I silently beg Jake to walk away, but his steady gaze is on me.

“Please.”

He caresses my cheek and presses the softest kiss to my lips. “Why, baby?”

“Because I want you.” I draw in a ragged breath. “Because I want you and you don’t want me and this game we’re playing is too much when I have to deal with you…like this.”