Either Dimitri had no plan whatsoever or the drawn-out silence between his points of contact were part of the plan. We couldn’t figure out what he was doing, if and when he was going to strike again, and what it would take to put an end to it. Another two weeks had rolled by since the note in the mailbox startle – bringing us halfway through October – and this Russian bastard was nowhere to be found. None of us had spotted him. Anywhere. Manny had even gone as far as asking every hotel within a fifty-mile radius if “this man” had checked in at any point within the last month, and each time, he came up empty-handed.
Where the hell was this guy hiding? In the sewer? Had we thrown him off by actually running and hiding somewhere else?
Ironic how he’d said we couldn’t hide, and yet here he was, doing the same thing.
So, what if we lure him out? That’s what Maya had suggested. Naturally, Manny shot her down with a simple no, but his reasoning more than made sense. Men like Dimitri weren’t easily cajoled, and it was more than likely he’d know what we were up to if we tried. That could end very badly and there was no way Manny – or Knox, for that matter – would allow that. The only way to even possibly tempt him would be to use Maya, and although she’d made it clear she was up for the challenge if that meant we’d be free of him, even I wouldn’t let her do that. Point blank, this dude was crazy, and I could guarantee, given his in-depth background check, this wasn’t his first rodeo. Waiting this shit storm out was really all the choice we had. The downside to waiting was the constant worry; fear at some points too. We were always looking out of the corner of our eyes, always watching our backs. It was really starting to take its toll, and all I wanted was for it to be over, preferably before my next fight.
The fight that would make me or break me. If I lost this one, too, I could kiss my short-lived pro career goodbye.
Talk about pressure.
I’d worked so hard to get here and since arriving, I hadn’t really proven myself. My first fight was simply beginner’s luck, just as I’d told Reyna. It's what came after that would pave the way for this chapter in my career, and as of now, there wasn't much of a path. I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me. Explaining what happened when I stepped foot in the cage was difficult to explain. I just couldn't...focus. I knew what I was doing, I just couldn't fucking focus. Knox labeled it as stress. Everything that had knocked our world off its feet was piling up on my shoulders, and I was exhausted. There was no other way to put it.
As a result, Knox had set a limit on my cage time. Three days a week was all I was allotted. He’d even cut out routine workouts, to ensure I wasn’t over-exhausting myself. No crazy hours were allowed either; half hour to warm up and a full hour of sparring. That’s it. Nothing less, nothing more. Of course, I didn’t care for this new method, wondering how the hell I was going to prepare to take down Nuñez on such a curbed regimen, but he was the coach, which meant he called the shots. So, I rolled with it because, at the end of the day, I trusted him.
“Harder,” Knox demanded as I slammed my fist into one of the mitts.
“That was harder,” I growled.
“Not hard enough, kitten. Come on, bring it.”
We’d been at it for almost an hour, and he’d been critiquing me – more like picking on me – through ninety percent of it. I'd about had enough. His snippy attitude since coming home from work was on my last nerve, mostly because I knew why he was acting this way. He didn't even have to tell me. I just knew. Woman's intuition again. Let's just say Brie Dawson wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. Despite my warning, she chose not to heed it. The woman would not fuck off, and I was a thread away from taking out every bit of anger, anxiety, and frustration on her.
“You’re gonna regret that,” I warned, bouncing around on the balls of my feet, to which he smirked as he ripped off the mitts and waved his hands challengingly.
“Prove it.”
One ass whooping, come right up.
I threw it down on him like a hailstorm, alternating between punching and kicking with such speed, he could barely cover himself. Every strike pushed him back a bit more until I thrusted him into the cage and busted out the hammer punches. He struggled in an attempt to free himself, but I didn’t relent, clocking him three, four, five times. After a few blows to the head, he managed to roll me over his back and fling me around, the unexpected defense sending me right into the spot he’d occupied not ten seconds ago. My back hit the chain links, and I lost my grip, allowing him to slip away and retreat to middle of the mat.
“Damn, baby,” he panted. “I said prove it, not kill me.”
“You asked for it,” I quipped, taking deep breaths of my own.
And I was only getting started.
Coach Carr was about to find himself very dizzy and very flat on the mat. In the year we’d been together, I'd yet to topple him, but that was changing right here, right now. All I had to do was spin him out long enough and it'd be a done deal. A challenge, obviously, seeing as Knox was quick.
But I was faster.
Let's see how long my man could stand upright, shall we?
A devious grin spread across my face, the fact he had no clue he was minutes away from hitting the mat fueling me on in my feat. Charging toward him, I came out swinging without hesitation, hoping the sudden rush would psych him out. And it did. He didn’t know whether to block or swing, which worked to my advantage. I clipped him twice in the jaw, stunning him momentarily, and eased away, granting him the opportunity to gather his bearings.
Or so he thought.
As he recovered, I shuffled around him in light, brisk bounces, keeping my arms in protective stance. Poor man tried his damndest to keep up with me, but after the all excitement, I was at least three steps ahead of him, and when he swayed to one side, I knew I had him. With a feral growl, I swung a leg out low and clipped him right at the calves, toppling him flawlessly like a tree, onto the black mat beneath our feet.
The sound of his body falling in a heap bounced off the walls along with a deep, guttural groan that shot out from his mouth. It was the sound of sweet, sweet victory, and I was on him not a second later, locking his arms above his head to seal the deal. Dropping my forehead to his, I smiled triumphantly and pecked his lips throughout the ten-second countdown. He struggled against me in a feeble attempt to regain control, but I had him. I fucking had him.
And by the time I whispered, “One,” he’d given up entirely.
What caught me by surprise, though, was when he yanked himself from my grasp, took hold of my wrist, and threw my arm up in the air.
“Your victor, ladies and gentlemennn, Hazelll “Lionesss” Perryyy!” He followed that with the typical hushed cheering, holding a hand to his mouth and all.
With my heart racing wildly, I leaned in closely to claim his mouth once more, a soft giggle bubbling in my throat when he nibbled my lip, prompting me to nip back.
“You better not have let me win,” I mumbled through his assault.
“Never. That was all you, baby. I most definitely was not expecting to hit the mat.”
“I know. That's why I did it.”
“Sneaky, but well-calculated. I'm not sure whether that falls under naughty kitten territory, or feral Lioness.”
“A little of both, I’d say.”
He hummed, though it sounded more like a growl. “You better tuck kitty back into her box before I let her out play.”
“And what if kitty wants to play?” I asked, grinding my hips into him reflexively.
“Here?”
“Now.”
“Anyone one could come in,” he advised, prompting me to drag a finger along his jaw.
“And the point would be, coach?”
His eyes darkened. “You’re being very naughty right now…”
“I know, and you love it. So, hush....”
“Don’t tell me what to do, kitten. I’m the coach. I call the shots, remember?”
A quick hand deftly wound around my ponytail, the other clamping down on my ass in a death grip.
“How could I forget? You’re so demanding.”
“And you love it, so hush.”
“Make me…” I whispered.
The mood was already set, spurred on by attitudes, frustration, and victory, but my challenge set it off completely.
Rolling me onto my back, Knox grabbed the waistband of my track pants and slid them down my legs, tossing them to the side of the ring without care. My panties were next, and then his lips crashed into mine, stamping harsh kisses down the length of my body until he was on his knees. I'd expected him to go back up the way he came and drape himself over me, but he pulled me into his lap and rose to his feet, walking us right into one of the cage walls.
“Remember those fantasies I told you about in Vegas?” he asked, whipping his shirt over his head as I latched my arms around his neck.
“Mhmm.”
“This was one of them. Fucking you so hard against the cage, the chain links left marks on your back.”
“And you thought that was gonna send me running for the hills?” I scoffed, smirking at the memory of us in the darkened hallway.
Two thick fingers swiped through my primed lips, dragging my essence up to my clit where he rubbed soft circles that arched me into his touch.
“I didn’t think you were such a naughty kitten.”
“Looks like you thought wrong, baby boy.”
“Very,” he purred, swiftly guiding his length inside me unexpectedly thereafter.
I gasped, but my body accommodated him with ease, swallowing him whole from tip to base. Knox groaned as he filled me to the hilt, his eyes scrunched tightly through every roll of his hips; slow at first, then faster and faster. Knowing anyone could walk in at any given moment amplified everything: his kisses, the light nips of his teeth, the way he touched me, the way he fucked me. Roughly and possessively; there was nothing sweet about it. The chain links dug into my back, rippling wave upon wave of exquisite pain down my spine. And I wanted more.
“More?” he asked, my desires not as silent as I imagined. “How much more?”
“All of it, give me all of it. All of you. Don't hold back on me.”
“Then don’t let go,” he instructed, releasing me to grab hold of the cage over my head.
And then he really let me have it, thrusting into me with such force, I knew I'd definitely have marks when we were done. At this angle and the fact that I was partially suspended, he felt so deep, it hurt to breathe. My eyes were at the back of my head as Knox fucked me without reserve, his grunts and groans quickly driving me to the edge of ecstasy. The coil in my belly was seconds away from snapping free and as he slowed his movements once more, digging into me like he couldn’t get deep enough, I fell apart, sinking my fingers into his hair for purchase. Up until then, I’d been fairly quiet, but the sheer amount of pleasure rushing through my veins was impossible to subdue. My moans bounced off the walls of the gym and with a few more thrusts, Knox was right behind me, stilling inside me, one of his hands gripping my thigh as he tossed his head back and groaned through his release.
That was mind-blowing.
It really was, but as we came down from our highs and I took in the unreadable expression on his face, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d felt anything like this with her…