Axe Man takes advantage of his distraction to deliver some more devastating lefts. Jake sags to a seated position and bile rises in my throat. For the first time ever, I understand Makayla’s intolerance for violence.

The referee raises the whistle to his lips, but Jake jumps up and sweeps Axe Man’s feet from under him. Within moments, he has Axe Man on the mat in a vicious chokehold. He pummels Axe Man’s head and face until blood drips onto the mat. The referee stops the fight and announces Jake the winner by brute force.

Jake descends triumphant from the cage, high-fiving the Redemption fighters clustered around the base of the stairs, but his gaze is firmly fixed on me. A sheen of sweat covers his broad chest and his hard abs ripple with movement as he stalks across the mats toward me. Confident. Sure. Predatory.

So beautiful. Inside and out.

Swallowing my anxiety, I smile when he finally reaches my corner. “Great fight.”

“What are you doing here?” His abrupt tone and his level gaze make me tremble, but I hold my ground.

“I came to see you fight and…maybe talk about the other night.”

He shrugs. “Not much to talk about. You made it pretty clear backstage at the concert that you don’t need me in your life.”

Frowning, I glance quickly around to ensure we’re alone. “I didn’t need to see you getting beat up by eight security guards in a tiny room, then getting arrested and destroying your fight career. That’s what I didn’t need.”

“You didn’t trust me.” He grasps my chin and tilts my head back. “I had no plans to start a brawl. I just wanted to send a message.”

With an annoyed grunt, I wrench my head away. “And you didn’t trust me to be able to deal with a guy like him on my own. You think I haven’t had my ass squeezed before? Or dealt with inflated egos and potty mouths? If you and Fuzzy hadn’t shown up, Shilla the Killa and I would have had them groaning on the floor.”

He lifts an eyebrow and a smile ghosts his lips. “I can imagine.”

My gaze drops, skimming over the contours of his pecs, and then follows the dusky trail of hair to the waistband of his orange fight shorts. Black dragons curl down the sides, breathing a fire as dark as my despair.

“Look at me.”

Without thinking, I snap my gaze back to his. Exhaustion lines his face but his eyes gleam fever bright and the raw hunger in their blue depths makes my ni**les harden.

“I get your issue with what happened backstage,” he says softly. “But you need to understand mine. You caught me at a moment when I was feeling particularly possessive about your ass, and when I saw that bastard’s hand on you, I snapped.”

“I do understand. That’s why I came here tonight. To say I’m sorry. I care about you. I didn’t want to see you get hurt. But I should have let you do what you do best. I like that you’re protective. If things had gotten ugly, there’s no one else I would have wanted in my corner.”

Jake steps forward. Instinctively I step back. Although I know he would never hurt me, he is intimidating just the same, and with blood splatters on his chest, his body still vibrating from the adrenaline of the fight, I react as anyone would react when faced with a predator. Heart pounding, pulse racing, I retreat.

When my back hits the wall, Jake leans one forearm beside my head and touches his forehead to mine. “Say it again.”

“I’m sorry?”

His lips quiver with a repressed smile. “That was a good part, but there was a part I liked better.”

“I care about you.”

“You care about me.” His lips brush over my ear, soft as butterfly wings, and he drops one hand to my hip, pulling me close. “You want me.”

“More than anything.” Tentative at first, and then with firm pressure, I press my hands against his chest, drinking in the feeling of smooth skin over rock hard muscle. His scent of soap and sweat and the essence of male surrounds me, overwhelms me, and I bite back a moan.

“Christ.” He draws in a deep breath and pulls away. “Go home, Amanda.”

Chapter 13

TIGER. TIGER. TIGER

My breath catches and my blood chills. “You want me to go home?”

“I want to f**k you.” His jaw tightens and he licks his lips. “I want to push you onto the mat, rip off your clothes, and bury myself so deep you can’t tell where I end and where you begin. I want to lick your pu**y until you scream, flip you over, take you hard, and make you scream again. But that’s not going to happen. You’re going to go home and climb into your frilly little bed and dream your sweet little dreams. I’m going to step into the cage with Carnage and take out my frustration on him.”

My lower half turns liquid, and I slide my hands around his neck, pulling him down to my lips. “What if I don’t go?”

He nips my bottom lip, sending a blade of heat straight to my core. “You have to go, baby. I won’t be able to control myself. I’ve wanted you so bad for so long, and after I’ve been in the cage, I can’t think straight. Even now…” He gives a guttural groan and his fist clenches on my hip.

Primitive. Primal. His need speaks to me. I tighten my grip on his neck and rock up to kiss him, gliding my tongue over the seam of his lips before he has a chance to protest. He allows me only that brief moment of control before he takes over. His kiss is hard and demanding. Cupping my jaw, he thrusts his tongue deep, leaving me in no doubt of his possession.