Tiana had never felt so exposed in her life. Naked even. As the only ringside VIP guest of Dax Easterling, she was the object of too much unwanted attention in the packed Staples Center. The wives and girlfriends—WAGs—kept eyeing her, but no differently than they had when she’d been Thad’s girl. They weren’t judging her necessarily; hell no—they swapped partners more frequently than rednecks at a square dance. They were just curious. She was a rogue element in their midst, someone they couldn’t figure out. She had never fit in with their fashion or their inside jokes or the way they turned a blind eye to all the sleeping around, and she’d only ever attended a handful of their regular get-togethers.
The fact that she was now with Dax, someone else they couldn’t get a handle on, would only make their tongues wag all the more.
She was trying her best to concentrate on the fight. Dax was still sizing up his opponent, a huge black bear of a man named Dumbo Woodbury, a South African. Dax was quicker and clearly the more cultured fighter, but he was wary of getting in too close. The way Woodbury was stalking him around ring left little to the imagination; he wanted to get hold of his opponent any way he could and break poor Dax in half.
Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, coming here to watch. He might get hurt. Sure, she’d been through it a hundred times with Thad, but her life was at a fragile point right now, and she couldn’t take any more heartache.
The arena’s spotlights had converged on the octagonal ring. Tiana’s front row was on the border of light and shadow; she was fully lit, and the cameras would easily pick her out. Her toned-down but still sexy ensemble—blouse, waistcoat, and suit pants—had been a last-minute idea. She’d hoped no one would recognize her in it, and it would therefore help her to blend in. But she now realized, too late, that it was making a statement. It said: “Don’t mess with me, I’ve got the power.” In the eyes of the bling brigade, she was re-defining herself and taking charge of her life, and part of that was to set her sights on the most mysterious hunk in MMA.
Rosina Petrov waved to her. She waved back, then cringed when she realized Rosina’s husband, Gaston, was good friends with Thad. She scanned the surrounding seats. Phew. Thank God her crazy ex wasn’t here. However, he’d definitely find out about her being here. Even if the cameras and the media gossip didn’t give her away, the Petrovs would spill the beans to Thad sooner or later.
Let’s burn that bridge when we come to it, she thought. Tonight’s about Dax. I owe him this much.
Woodbury lifted his enormous leg to try and kick Dax against the ropes, but Dax saw it coming a mile away. He sidestepped just enough to catch the big man’s calf, then swept his trailing leg from under him. Tiana leapt to her feet, the first in her row, probably in the whole arena. That was not like her at all. She was normally the reserved one, the reluctant one, who only got to her feet when everyone around her stood up.
Tonight was different. Tonight, a strong pull inside her insisted she make this effort. For Dax. For herself. And the more she cheered like a maniac, the more she understood the love-hate relationship she’d always had with this blood sport. It had been true right from the start, when she’d first watched Thad perform in the ring, but it had never crystallized in her mind until now.
She hated fighting, but loved fighters.
What they did to each other was barbaric. On some level it left her queasy—not in a good way. But damn it, they were so hot. Watching Dax Easterling strut his stuff in the ring, muscles rippling, practically naked, and demonstrating how to take a big bully down without resorting to mindless brawling—now that shit made her queasy in all the right ways.
He was what a man should be. Cut, confident, and always in control. The way he set about dismantling his opponent was so…efficient. Every blow, every block, every hold so precise. And he had charisma to spare, lots of little quirks and signature flourishes to his technique that just screamed to his opponent: I own this sport; you’re in my ring now. She’d never seen such a skillful display of hand-to-hand combat. Dumbo Woodbury was like a huge bull in the ring with a world-class matador (another blood sport she hated). The big man was getting frustrated.
Tiana leapt to her feet again and whistled her approval when Dax snagged Woodbury in an athletic head-scissors. He pulled it off so quickly, the rest of the crowd barely had time to react before Woodbury was on the canvas, struggling to hold on. The ref got in real close, watching carefully for a tap-out.
In that moment, something made her turn to catch Rosina’s eye. Maybe to brag. Maybe to announce the start of this new chapter in her life, free from Thad’s control. But Rosina didn’t look her way. She was busy shouting in her husband’s ear, then nodding gravely at his replies. Were they worried about Dax Easterling? About just how good he really was? Tiana liked to think so. That every fighter in the world was now intimidated by Dax—not because he was some psychotic, steroid-fueled brawler in the ring (fuck you, Thad!), but because he was just that good.
The idea set her heart racing. It was a feeling of relief more than anything else—that a guy so powerful could be so in control as well. Sure, he was bound to have his rough edges, as any fighter would. But Dax Easterling could give her what Thad had lost a long time ago. Put simply, he could make her feel safe.
That was worth a victory right there.
***
Woodbury, having escaped the head-scissors, finally tapped-out inside a headlock near the end of the second round. No one was surprised. However, Tiana had never heard so much chatter after a fight. After the cheering died down, the whole arena seemed to be gripped in intense debate. Woodbury was ranked pretty high. For someone to have taken him apart so clinically like that, it had to signal to the IMMAF that its next bona fide title contender was in town.
Tiana was about to leave the building and catch a cab straight to Cassie’s when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She recognized the youngish Hispanic man from Dax’s small corner team.
“Excuse me, miss. Dax sent me to fetch you. He said there’s something he wants to ask you, if haven’t got other plans…”
“Um, no. I can see him…if I’m allowed back there.”
The guy shot her a confused look. Hey, it wasn’t her fault that Thad had never explained the backstage protocol for these things. He’d never invited her into the locker room. That was his time, he’d always said, for himself and his team.
“Okay, show me the way,” she said.
It did feel bizarre, after all these years, to finally gain access to the fighters’ secret sanctum. The smells were all familiar—like those of any gym or locker room. However, there was a strong male vibe here, almost overpowering, that made her feel both uneasy and curious at the same time.
“Tiana! Glad you could come.” With a towel wrapped around him, and with his physio massaging his feet in a tub of cold water, Dax looked totally pampered. He also looked flat-out sexy: all sweaty and wide-eyed, with his six-pack heaving like it had after the multiple times he’d screwed her brains out that glorious night.
She swallowed. Her tummy did its fluttery-tingly thing. “I wouldn’t have missed it,” she said.
“I did good, huh?”
“You were amazing!” That was not hyperbole. And she could tell by the way that he looked at her that he knew she meant it.
“Thanks.” He accepted a bottle of orange energy drink from the Hispanic lad who’d fetched her. “Listen, I know this is short notice, but my agent is hosting a party at his house in Hollywood Hills. Well, technically it’s my house as well, but he spends more time there than me. We lease it for parties, charity functions, things like that. He’s kind of a big shot. I just stay there now and then, use it as kind of a luxury retreat when there’s nothing else going on. Anyway, we’re holding this after-fight party tonight, and I wanted to know if you were up for it.”
Tiana mentally scrambled to figure out what he really meant. How much time did he intend to spend with her? Would she end up as the wallflower while he drank beer with his Marine buddies? Who else would be there? The bling brigade? A few WAGs she could handle, but in truth, the only party she wanted right now was a party of two. The private kind. The naked, athletic, private kind.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“On you.”
The Hispanic boy glanced at her, smiling to himself. The physio briefly stopped rubbing, then resumed with enthusiasm.
“Okay, put it this way,” Dax said. “If you don’t go, I don’t go.”
“But it’s your party. Your after-fight celebration. You’d be letting everyone down.”
He shrugged. “See what you’d be making me do?”
“Oh, so it’s blackmail now, is it?”
“You bet your sweet—”
“I’m in,” she interrupted.
Dax sprouted a pleased-as-punch grin that dropped—almost—when the physio looked up at him. He cleared his throat. “Good. So I’ll see you there. Alvaro will take you to my car. Just tell my driver you’re going on ahead; I’ll make my own way there.”
“I can wait,” she said.
“Nah, I’d rather you didn’t. I’ve got too much bullshit to take care of here before I can leave. I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can. Meantime, make yourself at home. What’s mine is yours. Okay?”
Tiana flicked him an insolent salute.
“Feisty,” he said. “Hold that thought. Alvaro, you know the way.”
The young lad followed her example, snapping off a salute. This time, Dax didn’t appear so amused. He just glared at Alvaro, who scurried out.
“This way,” he called back.
“Wait up,” she replied.
Dax winked at her, and she winked back.
This might just be a party to remember, she thought.
***
It was a large, impressive estate that stood out among its neighbors in Hollywood Hills by dint of a massive white iron front gate that resembled the entrance to a theme park. It towered over the road. Inside, the rest of the estate was fairly similar to the others in this posh, high-up enclave of the city: tropical and subtropical trees, a floodlit tennis court, more expensive cars than she could count, and a hacienda-type home that might satisfy an up-and-coming South American drug baron until he really hit the big time.
It was the kind of home that would suit a modest Hollywood star or a high-flying agent. But it absolutely did not suit Dax Easterling. She just couldn’t imagine him living here in all this luxury. Maybe if he pitched a tent in the garden and occasionally stormed the house as some sort of military training exercise. Maybe shoot a few silicon WAGs while he as at it. Pow! Pow!
Probably the best thing about the property was its absolutely stunning view of Los Angeles. From the upper balcony, she could see for miles across the sprawling city. The faint rust-colored glow of the night sky hanging low over L.A. suddenly made her proud to call it her home. So it could be unpleasant a lot of the time, even dangerous, but none of that mattered on nights like tonight, with its cloak of mystery and romance spread over the whole mess.
Tiana said hello to a handful of people she knew, and a few others who seemed intent on making her acquaintance. One Blanche-Dubois-type stalked her half way around the house, biding her time, before finally introducing herself as a gossip columnist for an online magazine. Yes, Tiana had dated two top fighters in a row. No, she wasn’t giving interviews. And hell no, she’d rather die than divulge any bedroom secrets the readers were dying to know. Did she look like that much of a trollop?
She spent the next half hour or so exploring the house and its grounds. There was a state of the art gym complete with punch bags and all manner of fitness machines—clearly Dax’s. Outside in the back, in a secluded alcove, was a large, bubbling Jacuzzi. The agent’s? Or Dax’s? How many bimbos had the two of them shared in there?
Tiana realized she hated that idea. Not of him having had other women—that would be like refusing a rare gemstone because others had touched it before her—but the idea that Dax had such easy access to the hottest women in L.A., and that his agent was supplying them. It just made her skin crawl, given what she’d just been through with Thad.
She wanted to be more confident in herself, but ideas like those nagged at her day and night. The only solution, she decided, was to not hold back. If she saw something she wanted, she would just have to go all out to get it. Damn the consequences. And if that meant making a complete ass of herself, so be it. A well bucket had to hit bottom before it knew where it stood. And she sure as shit couldn’t sink any lower than she’d been that morning, locked in the bathroom, with her bags packed but no way to reach them—not until Thad had finished wrecking the bedroom they’d shared for so long and had finally left.
Jesus, had all that really happened? She had to get over it somehow, to make sure nothing like that ever happened again.
“Ah, he’s here!” she heard a leggy PR exec tell her friend. “Best woman wins.” They adjusted their excessively flattering push-up bras. Both wore eyelash extensions and enough eye shadow to make the Sphinx look slutty.
“Excuse me.” Tiana stepped out in front of them, blocking their way.
One of them muttered, “Bitch.”
After hustling her way through the crowd in the living room, Tiana squeezed into the foyer, where Dax was busy fielding compliments and shaking hands and posing for selfies. These were clients, friends, and colleagues, but they were behaving more like groupies. She couldn’t even get close.
Tiana imagined herself throwing a bucket of chum over the lot of them and watching them eat each other alive.
Perturbed, she made her way up the main marble staircase and sat about halfway to the top. It was cold and hard, but at least she had a bit of air up here. Dax had his hands full. He’d just have to come to her…whenever. And she was halfway to where she really wanted to be…up there.
God, she hated parties. They always got in the way of a good time.
She chuckled. Her sister Cass would roll her eyes at that remark. The more money Tiana had, the more glamorous her life got, the more she found to grumble about, Cass was fond of saying. God forbid she wound up with a European prince or one of those Saudi sheiks. She’d be on antidepressants for the rest of her pampered life.
Okay, so Cass had relaxed that criticism in light of what Tiana had been through lately, but the general observation still stood. Tiana really didn’t feel comfortable in this world. Never had. Probably never would. But if she had to be a part of it, what she needed was someone as indifferent to it as she was. A man who didn’t take it seriously, who was glad that she didn’t take it seriously either.
She watched Dax until he got fed up with the three-ring circus. It didn’t take long, and it made her laugh, how he kept puffing when he thought no one was looking. She knew exactly how he felt.
When he finally looked up at her, she gave him one of her cheeky salutes. He stopped what he was doing, completely ignoring the group of champagne-toting socialites who’d surrounded him like glitzy fish around a harbor buoy. His gaze locked on hers. She didn’t hear anything or see anyone else. He whispered something to a member of his ring entourage, not leaving her gaze for a moment. Then he made his way up to her, all casual and smoldering, the top three buttons of his cotton shirt open, revealing the swirling black tattoos he wore like war paint when he fought.
“I’m glad you came,” he said.
“I’m glad you showed up,” she replied.
“What are you doing up here?”
“I was bored. You were taking forever.”
“Tell me about it.” He sat beside her, laced his fingers in hers. “So what did you think of the fight?”
“I think you should charge extra,” Tiana said.
“For what?”
“For schooling every other fighter who watches you. Seriously, you’re amazing.”
He kissed her hand. “I was about to say the same thing.”
“That you’re amazing? Wow, that would have been…what’s the opposite of classy?”
Dax snickered. “About you. I was gonna say…never mind.”
“Aw, go on.”
“No, you’ve ruined the moment. Now there’s nothing for it,” he said. “We’ll just have to skip the romance part altogether.”
“And get straight into the what?”
“Party.” He winked. When she lightly punched his arm, he added, “Only kidding. So you were half way up here already. Was that a hint, Tiana Crowe?”
A warm shiver went right through her. “God, I love it when you say my name.”
He leaned in and whispered, “Tiana Crowe.”
She giggled, blushed, and then kissed his stubbly cheek. “Dax Easterling.”
“Mm.”
“A penny for your thoughts.”
He took a deep breath. “Come with me.”
To her surprise, he didn’t lead her upstairs, he led her down. Straight into the hornet’s nest. Luckily, the various groups had coalesced into conversation, and Tiana and Dax were able to get past them. He said something to the same man he’d spoken to earlier—the black, bearded man from his entourage. Sherwood was his name. He nodded, opened the front door for them, then let them out but stayed inside himself. He closed the door after them.
“We driving somewhere?” she asked Dax.
“No.”
“Then where are we—”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Ah. Okay.”
Again she got to admire the view of L.A. as he led her through the garden around to the back of the house. It was a warm, inviting view with a palpable air of mystery, but it had nothing on the man she was with. She’d seen every inch of him, she’d had him multiple times, but everything about him still intrigued her, left her breathless and wanting to know more. To have more.
He unlocked a wooden gate near a kind of natural arbor made from a pair of trees and an arch fashioned from heavily leafed vines. A nice botanical feature, obviously well kept, as was the rest of the garden. The gardener was talented. Tiana regretted not having taken better care of her own plants. There was a bench inside the arbor. It might have been sweet to sit there with Dax, just the two of them alone, but he had something else in mind. It felt like they were delving deeper into his private world, into his secrets.
She liked that. She wanted him to open up; she wanted to know more.
They entered an enclosure that was walled by tall hedges. At first it seemed like a kind a miniature maze, but it didn’t lead anywhere quite so exciting. There was an old stone fountain, but it didn’t work. Yet, where was the sound of running water coming from?
“This is all very Jane Austen,” she observed.
“Let’s hope not,” he replied enigmatically.
“What’s wrong with Jane Austen?”
“She was kinda PG-rated.”
“Oh.” She had to think twice about his meaning. It became clear when she saw the next feature. “Oh.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s totally private.”
She couldn’t see how. The Jacuzzi wasn’t exactly within spitting distance from the back of the house, but it was definitely within throwing distance. She’d found it on her own without trouble.
Tiana hesitated, scanned all the windows and the upper balcony. “I don’t know. It seems kind of exposed to me.”
Dax answered, “Trust me,” as he pulled her to him and slowly untucked her blouse. Her breath hitched when he hiked it up to grip her bare waist.
“But what if somebody—”
He silenced her with a gentle touch of the lips. Then another, more deliberate this time. He slid his tongue in so that it brushed against the edges of her teeth, now dabbed the inside of her mouth, beckoning her to join him. Tiana responded in kind. For the length of a long, sensuous kiss she forgot that someone might be watching.
Dax undid the front of her pants. She found herself unbuckling his belt. Then she looked up again—that balcony, it seemed awfully close, an all-too-convenient place for someone to enjoy the show. It made her recoil.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t. It’s too exposed.”
Nodding, he took her by the hand and led her up to the edge of the Jacuzzi. “Okay. Look now,” he said.
She did. It was much better. They were completely obscured by the wall covered with creeping vines. “And no one can come out and find us?”
“My man’s taking care of that. It’s just us, I promise.”
Tiana heaved a nervous sigh. “I’m sorry. You were wanting someone more…adventurous, right? I’ve let you down.”
“Never.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I mean, I freaking dream about moments like this, about what I’d do if a guy like you…” She shut her eyes, shook her head. “I’ve killed the mood, haven’t I? All this neurotic bullshit. I’ve gone and—”
Again, the timely kiss to take her mind off…whatever. Amazing, how easily that worked. It was like a tide rising onto a rocky beach, covering all the hard edges of reality.
“So you want me, huh?” she said in his ear, as he kissed her neck from behind. Now lower. Lower. Unbuttoning her blouse as he went. The last few were fidgety. His big, rough hands had trouble with the tiny holes he couldn’t see from where he was. No way was he going to let them cramp his style. He fucking ripped them apart. It made her gasp.
Tiana spun round and kicked off her shoes, not wanting to draw this out any longer than she had to. He’d hiked it up a gear. She was revved. While she unbuckled his belt, unzipped him, he couldn’t wait either. He pulled the cups of her bra up so that her tits popped out. Then he went to work, as he loved to do, fondling those assets she was so proud of, all the while sucking and gently biting at her nipples until they were hard and erect as pencil erasers.
Jesus, that felt good. It gave her a thrilling shiver. She somehow managed to undo his shirt buttons with her eyes closed. But again, the last few proved awkward because he was so busy enjoying her breasts.
Tiana wrenched the halves of his shirt.
Nothing.
She tried again; this time she continued pulling with all her strength.
Nothing.
For some insane reason it made her laugh, how pathetically weak she was because Dax had channeled all her energy. She couldn’t stop laughing—deep belly laughs that made her convulse.
Dax pulled away, grinning. “Would this help?” He yanked his shirt apart without much effort, revealing that gloriously toned, tattooed body of his. Millions of women had drooled over those unreal abs and those rippling pecs and the size of his arms. It somehow made the whole thing funnier still, how hot and willing he was, and on the edge of a fucking Jacuzzi. She couldn’t have dreamed it any better than this if she’d wanted. The whole thing was so beyond perfect, she felt like crying.
Laughing, crying, living the dream…it was all good. It was just what she needed. But there was one thing she needed more right now.
“Is it me?” he asked, still amused.
Biting her lip, she shook her head.
“You’ve had a few drinks?”
She shook her head. “I’m just happy is all.”
“Uh-huh?”
“Uh-huh.” On an impulse, she flung herself at him. Dax spilled backward and fell into the Jacuzzi. He went under. When he surfaced, looking all cute and bemused, she climbed in after him. Her tits were out, but her bra was still fastened; and she was still wearing her trousers. It felt bizarre to be getting into the water half-clothed. Bizarre but really freaking hot.
He dragged her into the warm water, tore off her bra. Then he delved underwater and removed her pants and panties. Spreading her legs, he licked her bud with his tongue until he ran out of air and had to resurface.
Her turn. She took a deep breath and went under, but Tiana dove a little too sharply and wound up on the bottom with her legs sticking up vertically out of the water. Dax held them for her, then lifted her until her pussy was in kissing range, just above the surface. She was upside down, but he didn’t care. He licked her several times, then helped her right herself.
She didn’t remember a scene like this in Splash.
Dax took his pants and his boxers off, then he pinned her against the side of the Jacuzzi. The bubbles tickled her all over. The warmth of the water seemed to soak into her sex, turning his touch into a craving. One only he could satisfy. Tiana wrapped her arms around him, smothered him with kisses, as though each one upped her passion’s investment for what she hoped would be a return to die for.
He didn’t disappoint. He never did. But it was not the rough and tumble wild-fuck their foreplay had promised. No, he took a different tack. One she realized came from the heart. A gift from his to hers.
What Dax did so well, his defining trait really, both as a lover and as a fighter, was to control the tempo. He seemed to know, instinctively, when to put his foot on the gas and when to slow down to a pace that let things unfold naturally…to see what happened, where things led. Always mindful of Tiana’s wants, just as he was mindful of how his opponent was coping in the ring, he had a unique ability to read people—a supple but strong, almost fluid way about him that was irresistible to be around. It meant he could take a lover to the height of ecstasy or destroy an enemy with ruthless efficiency.
Tiana relished his tender caresses, his choice to keep their lovemaking to a patient, slow burn. The deep, measured thrusts as he kept her pinned to the side made her heave in bliss. She coiled inside, again and again, only to have each anticipation sated. He laced his fingers in hers and held her arms out wide on the rim of the Jacuzzi while he slid his cock deep inside her, over and over. She didn’t know how long he could keep this up, but she hoped…forever. It wasn’t until her shoulders and back began to ache—damn that pesky hard surface she was resting against—that Tiana knew it was time to change position.
Dax stood her up in front of him instead and took her from behind. She draped one arm over his shoulder. With her other hand she rubbed her sweet spot to heighten the still-patient but still-amazing rhythm he’d resumed. This time he was able to massage her tits as well. And when he started kissing her neck…the combination just overwhelmed her. He’d unlocked her three different ways at once.
It was the most intimate orgasm she’d ever had. The feel of his touch, the combination he’d found in her, burned in Tiana’s memory. She wanted more. And he was an endlessly generous host.
Maybe parties weren’t so bad after all.