Fighting Attraction
Page 5
“Maybe he’s already found her.” She gives me a nudge, and I look up to see Rampage watching me from the other side of the table.
“Still alive,” I say to him. “It takes more than a fall from a chair to really hurt me.”
“Don’t like the idea of you being hurt in any way, darlin’.”
Darlin’. He’s never called me darlin’ before. And in that accent… My mouth waters as I conjure up all sorts of naughty things Rampage and I might do together as he whispers Southern-style darlin’s in my ear in that soft Tennessee twang.
“That’s because you don’t know me very well. I like pain.”
“You don’t strike me as a masochist.” A curious expression crosses his face—part thoughtful, part longing—but it passes so quickly, I wonder if I saw it.
“I’m not.” Horrified at the truth I never meant to share, I hold up my injured hand and wiggle my bandaged finger to make my admission seem like a joke, although it’s not. Pain is part of me—an inescapable component of my life. “See. Doesn’t hurt. I’m thinking I should take up MMA seriously instead of watching everyone while I work out. I can take a beating and be ready for another go the next day.”
I press my lips together to shut myself up. Damn. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.
“Who wants a beating?” Doctor Death pulls up a chair and squeezes into the tiny space between Cora and me. Redemption’s man whore didn’t get his reputation by ignoring a new and very pretty face, and Cora won a few beauty pageants before she gave up the stage to become an engineer.
“Now, here’s your masochist,” I say to Rampage, relieved to have a diversion, even if the diversion already has a hand on my thigh. “He wants to be hurt. Otherwise his hand would be on the table and not on a place it shouldn’t be.”
Rampage’s face creases in a scowl, and I knock Doctor Death’s hand away.
“Penny. Darling.” Seemingly unfazed by my rejection, Doctor Death pecks me on the cheek. “Introduce me to your friend, and please tell me she’s joining the gym. We need more beautiful women to brighten the place up.”
“Cora Montgomery, meet Doctor Donald Drake, otherwise known as Doctor Death. He is one of California’s foremost heart surgeons, an MMA fighter, and ring doctor at Redemption. Doctor Death, meet Cora. She’s doing her degree in mechanical engineering at SF State.”
Doctor Death’s eyes widen. “I’m definitely sitting on the right side of the table. I don’t know which of you to sleep with first.”
“Don’t mind him,” I say to Cora. “If you tell him to stop, he’ll stop. Basically, he’s oversexed, an incorrigible flirt, but harmless.”
An hour later, after the fighters at the table have discussed the fight to death, Cora and I head to the bar for a change of scenery and discreet conversation.
“What did you think of Blade Saw?” I lean against the worn wooden counter and try to catch the bartender’s eye.
“He’s all sorts of hot. Very sweet. Funny. I like how dedicated he is to the sport.” She smiles at the bartender. He winks and gestures that he’ll be right over. Sigh.
“What about you?” she asks. “I can’t believe you’ve been hanging around so many gorgeous men and you haven’t asked any of them out. Rampage is really into you.”
“The guys at Redemption are friends, almost like brothers.” I try the smile-at-the-bartender routine and get a cold stare in return. “I want a bit of danger. A thrill. I want someone who lives on the edge.”
“You want another man who’s going to beat you like Vetch Retch? That’s the kind of thrill you want?” Cora bristles, now in full-on protective mode. Even when I’ve had too much to drink and I’m making an ass of myself, Cora has my back. When she found out Vetch hit me on one of our dates, I had to physically restrain her from going after him. She only backed down after Amanda’s private investigator, Ray, also known as “the Predator” at Redemption, dragged Vetch into an alley to teach him a lesson that involved more than one broken bone.
“Go out with the nice guy.” She gestures to Rampage, who is playing darts with Blade Saw at the back of the bar. “We’ll double-date.”
“How about you go out with the nice guy and invite me to your wedding?”
“How about we get a couple of Mai Tais and head over to the pool table where we can have a game while watching your Redemption friends bend over to pick up fallen darts?”
“Is no an option?” I glance over at the dartboard and catch a glimpse of Rampage’s beautiful, tight ass outlined in blue denim.
Cora follows my gaze and laughs. “Definitely not.”
After we get our drinks, we head over to the pool table. Cora strikes up a conversation with Rick, a thin dude with long, dark hair, and his ponytailed friend, Jim, who is wearing a “Bassists Go Down” T-shirt beneath a leather vest, cut to show off his two full sleeves of tats. We chat with them a bit and they invite us to join them.
I never played pool until I came to America, but after my first game with Cora, I was hooked. We went out every weekend, and I practiced until I had blisters on my fingers. Although I can now hold my own at a table, I’m nowhere near as good as Cora, who learned how to play when she was young and never misses an opportunity for a hustle.
“I noticed you when you walked in,” Jim says as I lean over to rack the balls. “All sweet and sexy. I’ll bet underneath those girly clothes, you’re a wildcat inside. How about we make the game more interesting?” He discreetly waggles a small cellophane envelope of white powder with a happy face sticker on it beneath his jacket.
“How about I just ride the high from our win?”
“Don’t be so uptight, sexy girl.” Jim comes up behind me when I turn back to the table. “Our place is just around the corner. We can all go there after the game, have a little fun…” He leans closer, his breath hot on the back of my neck. “You look like you could use a little excitement.”
“Still alive,” I say to him. “It takes more than a fall from a chair to really hurt me.”
“Don’t like the idea of you being hurt in any way, darlin’.”
Darlin’. He’s never called me darlin’ before. And in that accent… My mouth waters as I conjure up all sorts of naughty things Rampage and I might do together as he whispers Southern-style darlin’s in my ear in that soft Tennessee twang.
“That’s because you don’t know me very well. I like pain.”
“You don’t strike me as a masochist.” A curious expression crosses his face—part thoughtful, part longing—but it passes so quickly, I wonder if I saw it.
“I’m not.” Horrified at the truth I never meant to share, I hold up my injured hand and wiggle my bandaged finger to make my admission seem like a joke, although it’s not. Pain is part of me—an inescapable component of my life. “See. Doesn’t hurt. I’m thinking I should take up MMA seriously instead of watching everyone while I work out. I can take a beating and be ready for another go the next day.”
I press my lips together to shut myself up. Damn. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.
“Who wants a beating?” Doctor Death pulls up a chair and squeezes into the tiny space between Cora and me. Redemption’s man whore didn’t get his reputation by ignoring a new and very pretty face, and Cora won a few beauty pageants before she gave up the stage to become an engineer.
“Now, here’s your masochist,” I say to Rampage, relieved to have a diversion, even if the diversion already has a hand on my thigh. “He wants to be hurt. Otherwise his hand would be on the table and not on a place it shouldn’t be.”
Rampage’s face creases in a scowl, and I knock Doctor Death’s hand away.
“Penny. Darling.” Seemingly unfazed by my rejection, Doctor Death pecks me on the cheek. “Introduce me to your friend, and please tell me she’s joining the gym. We need more beautiful women to brighten the place up.”
“Cora Montgomery, meet Doctor Donald Drake, otherwise known as Doctor Death. He is one of California’s foremost heart surgeons, an MMA fighter, and ring doctor at Redemption. Doctor Death, meet Cora. She’s doing her degree in mechanical engineering at SF State.”
Doctor Death’s eyes widen. “I’m definitely sitting on the right side of the table. I don’t know which of you to sleep with first.”
“Don’t mind him,” I say to Cora. “If you tell him to stop, he’ll stop. Basically, he’s oversexed, an incorrigible flirt, but harmless.”
An hour later, after the fighters at the table have discussed the fight to death, Cora and I head to the bar for a change of scenery and discreet conversation.
“What did you think of Blade Saw?” I lean against the worn wooden counter and try to catch the bartender’s eye.
“He’s all sorts of hot. Very sweet. Funny. I like how dedicated he is to the sport.” She smiles at the bartender. He winks and gestures that he’ll be right over. Sigh.
“What about you?” she asks. “I can’t believe you’ve been hanging around so many gorgeous men and you haven’t asked any of them out. Rampage is really into you.”
“The guys at Redemption are friends, almost like brothers.” I try the smile-at-the-bartender routine and get a cold stare in return. “I want a bit of danger. A thrill. I want someone who lives on the edge.”
“You want another man who’s going to beat you like Vetch Retch? That’s the kind of thrill you want?” Cora bristles, now in full-on protective mode. Even when I’ve had too much to drink and I’m making an ass of myself, Cora has my back. When she found out Vetch hit me on one of our dates, I had to physically restrain her from going after him. She only backed down after Amanda’s private investigator, Ray, also known as “the Predator” at Redemption, dragged Vetch into an alley to teach him a lesson that involved more than one broken bone.
“Go out with the nice guy.” She gestures to Rampage, who is playing darts with Blade Saw at the back of the bar. “We’ll double-date.”
“How about you go out with the nice guy and invite me to your wedding?”
“How about we get a couple of Mai Tais and head over to the pool table where we can have a game while watching your Redemption friends bend over to pick up fallen darts?”
“Is no an option?” I glance over at the dartboard and catch a glimpse of Rampage’s beautiful, tight ass outlined in blue denim.
Cora follows my gaze and laughs. “Definitely not.”
After we get our drinks, we head over to the pool table. Cora strikes up a conversation with Rick, a thin dude with long, dark hair, and his ponytailed friend, Jim, who is wearing a “Bassists Go Down” T-shirt beneath a leather vest, cut to show off his two full sleeves of tats. We chat with them a bit and they invite us to join them.
I never played pool until I came to America, but after my first game with Cora, I was hooked. We went out every weekend, and I practiced until I had blisters on my fingers. Although I can now hold my own at a table, I’m nowhere near as good as Cora, who learned how to play when she was young and never misses an opportunity for a hustle.
“I noticed you when you walked in,” Jim says as I lean over to rack the balls. “All sweet and sexy. I’ll bet underneath those girly clothes, you’re a wildcat inside. How about we make the game more interesting?” He discreetly waggles a small cellophane envelope of white powder with a happy face sticker on it beneath his jacket.
“How about I just ride the high from our win?”
“Don’t be so uptight, sexy girl.” Jim comes up behind me when I turn back to the table. “Our place is just around the corner. We can all go there after the game, have a little fun…” He leans closer, his breath hot on the back of my neck. “You look like you could use a little excitement.”
