“You’re losing your touch, Whitmore.” Marcus grins. “Your girl can hit harder than that.”
I flip him off, vowing to knock that mouth guard right out of his smug head.
I feint left and he moves to block his right side, just like I thought he would. His whole left side is open and vulnerable now, so I strike out, landing a right hook just under his ribcage.
Marcus winces, crumpling as he bites out a curse.
If this were a real fight, I’d finish him off with an uppercut to the jaw. Or better yet, I’d grab his head and slam my knee into his nose. But we’re only sparring, so I backhand him across the face.
Marcus’s head jerks to the side. Drops of spit fly out of his mouth, along with his mouth guard.
Drenched in sweat, I grin, my heart racing. “Was that hard enough for you?”
I hear a couple snickers from some of the guys around us.
Marcus scowls. “Asshole.”
“Bitch,” I retort through my labored breathing.
My back straightens when I see someone slip into my office. There’s a flash of long, golden-brown hair before the door closes, but that’s not what has my brows slamming together or my feet moving across the ring.
Why the fuck is she dressed like she’s here to work?
I duck between the ropes and hop down from the ring, ignoring Marcus’s confused shouts as I cross the gym. When I reach my office, I throw open the door and slam it closed behind me, making the blinds rattle.
Savannah glances at me, totally unaffected by my sudden entrance, and pulls open the top drawer of my desk. She pulls out the keys for the laundry room and maintenance closet, closes the drawer, and walks around the desk.
When it becomes obvious that she’s just going to walk past me, I move to block her path. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Working.”
My fists clench at the slow, condescending way she says it, like I’m fucking stupid or something. “We talked about this. I said you’re done. End of story.”
Rolling her eyes, she pushes past me. “What are you gonna do if I don’t listen? Spank me?”
My palm actually twitches at the suggestion.
I grab her wrist and pull her back to me. “Careful, Kitten. Your mouth’s writing checks your ass can’t cash.”
Savannah glares up at me defiantly. “My ass can take anything you dole out, Mr. Whitmore.”
Her words spark a fan-fucking-tastic visual that has my cock fighting for room in my compression shorts as I grow uncomfortably hard. “Is that an invitation? ’Cause I’ve got eight inches I’d like your ass to take right now.”
“I didn’t realize you needed an invitation to fuck me,” she says, jutting her chin out. “Maybe that’s where I went wrong last night.”
So that’s what this is about. She’s still pissed.
I almost regret laughing when she yanks free from my grip. “C’mon, Kitten, don’t be like that.”
Her nostrils flare in the cutest way as she crosses her arms. “Are you still attracted to me?”
I roll my eyes and take her face in my hands, tilting her head back so she’s forced to look up at me. “That’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard. I’m literally half-hard any time we’re in the same room.”
“Then what is it? I shouldn’t have to beg you to fuck me, Declan. It’s humiliating.” Her bottom lip trembles as she looks away, her eyes filling with tears.
“Shit, baby, come here,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” God, I’m a dick. “I never meant to humiliate you, I swear. I just—” I sigh into her hair. “The last time we had sex was such a disaster, and the time before that, you freaked the fuck out. I’m. . . I’m kind of scared to try it again.”
The last thing I want is to choke like last time. I didn’t know where to touch her, or how aggressive to be. So I sat back and let her do all the work, which she didn’t seem too happy about. But it was better than pushing her too hard, like at the hotel.
Remembering how she cried afterward still fucking guts me.
“You didn’t seem scared last night.” The twinge of bitterness in her voice makes me feel like an even bigger douche, so I hug her tighter.
“That’s because you had me so turned on I couldn’t even see straight. When you start running your mouth and giving me sass. . .it just fucking does something to me.”
I don’t know why, but when Savannah busts my balls it’s like the ultimate aphrodisiac. My dick’s starting to throb just thinking about it.
It doesn’t help that her soft body is in my arms, or that my nose is practically buried in her hair. My fingers play with her loose waves as I swallow, my voice lowering to say, “It makes me feral. Makes me want to pull your hair and fuck you till you’re bruised. Till my teeth leave marks on your skin. Till you’re sweaty and screaming, and your pussy’s so full of my cum that it just fucking drips out of you.”
She shivers in my arms, her breath coming faster. “I’m on board with that.”
Sighing, I pull away. “I don’t think you are. Not completely.”
Her smile fades. “Look, I know you’re afraid of triggering some awful memory for me, but this has got to stop. I’m not some fucking bomb that’s going to detonate if you handle me a little roughly.”
I shake my head. “You say that now—”
“Did I flip out last night when you told me to touch myself?”
My eyes narrow on her. “No. . .” Why the hell would she ask me that?
Her jaw clenches. “No. I didn’t. In fact, I thought it was really hot.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
She cocks an eyebrow, and my stomach starts to churn at her pointed look.
“No, no, no. Oh, God.” Groaning, I rub my face, then lean down and rest my hands on my knees. My lungs suddenly can’t seem to function anymore, and my stomach feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out.
Savannah touches my shoulder, and the instant her skin hits mine, I reflexively scramble away as if she’s burned me. I’m shocked I just did that, but I’m even more shocked by how dirty I feel right now. It’s overshadowing everything.
I’m just fucking like him.
“Declan, it’s okay—”
“No, it’s not! Do you have any idea how fucking sick I feel right now? Knowing that I’m into the same kinky shit as that fucking sociopath who raped you? Jesus, Savannah, why the fuck would you tell me that?”
In a fit of rage, I punch the side of the tall metal filing cabinet in front of me, uprooting the stack of papers that were lying on top. The metal groans as it bends to the shape of my knuckles, but I don’t even feel it.
Before the papers even hit the floor, I know I’ve fucked up monumentally.
My jaw clenches as I watch them float down. I’m afraid to look at her. Afraid to see the hurt and anger that should rightfully be there.
“The things he did to me aren’t traumatic when I do them with you.” Her voice is low and cold. “It’s too bad you can’t say the same.”
She tries to leave, and without thinking, I grab her arm. “Savannah, wait—”
Her fist connects with my jaw. Pain blazes like fireworks as she throws open the door and storms out. Wincing, I touch the spot she hit.
Through the open doorway, I see Marcus in the ring where I’d left him.
He watches her stalk off, shaking his head. “Told you your girl can hit harder than you.”