“Uncomfortable.” I take a few steps, try to adjust to the small weights shifting inside me. “They feel too big, and the spiky things give me a sensation that is halfway between pleasure and pain, and the way they move is driving me crazy, like when you lick my clit and then stop.” I lift an admonishing eyebrow, and Jack laughs.

    “There’s a string for removing them, but you can only use it if you’ve given me your safe word first. Which is…?”

    “Redemption.”

    “I want you to wear a skirt tonight,” he says. “We’ll stop at your place on the way to the gym so you can change.”

    “Maybe we can do something at my place while I’m changing since I won’t have any clothes on?” I give a suggestive wiggle of my hips, and Jack laughs.

    “We’re going to the post-fight party. I have a surprise waiting for you there.” He cups my face between his hands and kisses me, hard and hungry. I can taste his need, as fierce and deep as mine.

    “Haven’t you forgotten something?” I point to the bulge in his jeans, his shaft very visibly erect.

    Jack lifts his duffel bag, letting it fall discreetly over his front. “We’re both going to suffer tonight.”

    * * *

    Team Redemption roars when Jack and I walk into the gym after a quick stop at my place for a change of clothes. Torment has opened Redemption up after hours for a celebration party. Jack is immediately surrounded, thudded on the back, his hand pumped, high-fived, and fist-bumped. Relieved to be out of the limelight, I take a step back and try not to think about the balls shifting inside me, or how badly I need to come.

    We head over to the lounge where Obsidian is pouring drinks at a small makeshift wet bar in the corner. It’s a small group—just the team and a few close friends and partners. I wave to Makayla and Amanda talking with Shilla on one of the big brown leather couches, and follow Jack to the bar where Blade Saw, Cora, and Homicide Hank have lined up some shots.

    “Where’s your wife?” I ask. Homicide Hank has so many kids we’ve lost count, and his wife doesn’t come out to the parties as often as she used to.

    “Pregnant.” He throws back a shot.

    “What is that? Five? Six?” Blade Saw toys with the ribbons on Cora’s halter top, and I pull off my sweater just in case she needs a quick cover-up.

    “You’re showing a lot of skin,” Jack murmurs in my ear. “Don’t like how the guys are checking you out.” He wasn’t happy with my change of clothes, and especially not the draped gray satin tank that plunges low or the short white skirt that is just long enough to be decent.

    “You suffer. I suffer.”

    “Sweater on,” he snaps.

    “Toys out,” I answer.

    He presses his lips together and glares. “It’s gonna be a long fucking night.”

    Obsidian hands me a vodka shooter, and I take a sip, savoring the sweet liquid as it slides over my tongue. Maybe the naughty toy experience will be easier to manage if I’ve had a few drinks. I finish my shot in one gulp and wave to the bartender for another. Jack looks over and frowns.

    Torment gives a toast to Jack’s awesomeness in the ring. We drink. He toasts Redemption. We drink. He toasts Redemption’s amazing coaches that have produced some professional fighters. We drink. He waxes eloquent about Redemption’s history and the days when it was only he, Renegade, and Rampage fighting each other on some old, worn mats in a big empty warehouse. We drink. He mumbles something about the women behind the men. I take a sip for every Redemption woman I know. I wave to the bartender for another. Jack snatches it away.

    “Enough.”

    I stand on my toes and kiss him. “It’s helping me deal with the fact that my knickers are so wet they are now redundant,” I whisper in his ear.

    Jack’s eyes darken almost to black. “Then we’ll take them off.” The deep rumble of his voice stirs naughty thoughts that tempt me to disobey him just to see what he’ll do.

    “You wouldn’t dare.”

    He gives me a scorching, sensual look that tells me he would dare indeed and I might be asking for more trouble than I can handle.

    After an hour of drinking and chatting, the party moves into the gym, where Homicide Hank challenges Shilla to a fight in the cage. Although Shilla is no match for the heavier fighters, she can hold her own against a featherweight like Homicide Hank. The consummate sadist, Jack takes me the long way, step by agonizing step through every hallway in the building, followed by a slow walk through the crowd until I am unable to think of anything but my desperate, almost-painful need to come.

    Shilla wins the fight in ten seconds flat. While Jack is congratulating her on a job well done, I slip out of the gym, intending to find some secret relief in the ladies’ restroom.

    “Wait up. I’m heading your way.” Doctor Death catches up with me in the hallway. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

    “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    “You just got the walk-around.”

    We stop near the restrooms, and he runs a hand through his golden hair. “It’s a tradition at Redemption. When a fighter finds his girl, he parades her around Redemption to warn everyone else away.”

    And I thought Jack was just being his sadistic self. “That sounds very…primitive.”

    Doctor Death laughs. “It is. But Redemption fighters are very territorial. Once you’ve been claimed—”

    “Claimed?”

    “There’s no going back.” He sighs and brushes a kiss over my cheek. “Another good one gone. One day it’s going to be me in there, staking my claim with a bevy of buxom beauties.”

    “Death!” Jack’s angry voice echoes down the corridor. “Get your fucking paws off her. Were you fucking unclear about the message I sent tonight?”