In Your Corner Page 41


“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.”

For a long moment, he studies me, and then he gently brushes my hair away from my face. “You think I don’t want you?” His lips whisper over my forehead sending a firestorm of hope through my body. “You think I’m this hard because I don’t want you?” He grinds his pelvis against mine and the press of his steel-hard erection against my throbbing sex rips a moan from my throat. “I told you before, my life is just one f**kup after another. But I thought I’d finally got my life on track when I joined Redemption, started fighting…met you. And then it all went to hell. I lost you, Peter, my fight career, and my friends.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I blurt out. “It was me. I couldn’t commit so I used the excuse of being upset that you wouldn’t reveal Torment’s identity to get some distance. And then Drake…I didn’t leave you with any options.”

Jake shakes his head and his face softens. “Not letting you take all the blame, baby. Although after meeting your parents, I can see why it’s hard for you to get close to people.”

“Just people I’m afraid of disappointing.”

“You walked into that meeting room, and suddenly I got a second chance,” he says softly. “I’m back in Redemption, back on my game. But this time I’m doing things slow. I’m not f**king this up. Just once in my life, something is going to go right. I want you, baby, but first I need to know that you’ll let me in.”

He wants me. But how do I know what he’s saying is true if he doesn’t speak in a language my body understands?

With a groan, he leans down and kisses me. His lips are warm, firm, unyielding. His tongue breaches the seal of my lips and then he is everywhere, exploring, tasting, possessing. My body arches toward him and he slides one hand under my lower back and presses me tight against him.

Oh God. I don’t want this moment to end. I concentrate on every detail, committing them to memory: his body warm and hard on top of me, his lips soft and gentle, the steady beat of his heart, the fresh scent of his soap, the taste of coffee on his tongue…and the soft chuckle of Rampage as he joins us on the mats.

Damn.

“What the hell?” Rampage scratches his head from the far corner of the mat.

Jake looks up, totally unembarrassed, and smiles. “New submission. It’s called lip-lock.”

“I’d like to get me some of that.”

Jake curls his free hand possessively around my head. “I don’t think you do.”

“Not with ’manda.” Rampage rolls his eyes. This I can see because I have tilted my head backward.

“Something I can do for you?” Jake shifts his weight to his elbows, caging me with his body.

Rampage rubs his hand along his shorts. “Um…Fuzzy sent me to tell you that your next class is ready. They’re waiting for you on the mats.”

With a heavy sigh, Jake pushes himself back to his knees and then helps me up. “Later, baby. I’ll meet you after class.”

“Later.”

Jake teaches his class. Then he helps a new recruit with some grapple moves. Then he covers a class for a sick instructor. Then he jumps into the ring to coach some newbies.

He tells me he has a hard time saying no when people ask for help. Torment turned his life around, and he feels obligated to pay it forward. Some of his students can’t afford the fees for a private coach. Always, he is solicitous and apologetic, but he never gives me the impression there is anywhere he would rather be than in the ring helping out.

After a few hours of chatting with the fighters, practicing my moves, and working on my form, I finally find my self-respect and call a cab.

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