Against the Cage (Worth the Fight #1) (30 page)

“Oh, baby. That feels so good,” said Jack, increasing the pace of his thrusts.

He was inside her, moving in and out of her, for what felt like days. The slow buildup increased the tension to unimaginable levels. She felt when his resolve to keep a slow pace snapped and he began pounding faster and harder into her. She matched him thrust for thrust in a perfect rhythm. Her eyes rolled back from pleasure.

“You’re about to come,” he murmured. “I can feel it. Your wet pussy is tightening around my dick.”

She secretly loved when he talked like that. Although, she thought, it wasn’t a secret—he knew it drove her crazy. His words drove her past the edge, and the climax she experienced was the most intense of her life, even more so than the previous ones Jack had provided. She cried out his name over and over as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her. One last thrust and Jack followed her to oblivion.

Pure exhaustion from the ecstasy overtook their bodies. She was drunk from his kisses and lovemaking, and she cradled his head on her stomach as sleep consumed them.

Minutes, hours, days later … time had ceased to exist.

“Hey, Jack. Can I ask you a question?” She was drawing circles lazily on his chest.

“Anything,” he croaked.

“I was just thinking—if you hate the name Jack so much, why don’t you just have people call you John?”

He burrowed his head in her chest and groaned.

“What?” she asked, amused.

“My real name isn’t John. It’s Jack. Jack Daniels
is
my legal name.”

Chrissy let out a snort and then started giggling uncontrollably.

“Are you laughing at me?” His tone was serious, but she could see that he was trying to hide a little smirk.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh at you. Really, I don’t. But, what were your parents thinking?” She was still laughing.

“What can I say? My parents are a little eccentric. That’s their favorite drink. They thought it was a cool name. It’s a man’s drink. Real men drink whiskey. I’ll have you know Jack Daniels is a very manly name.”

“Oh, poor baby. That’s just—wrong.” She was laughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Stop laughing at me or I’ll give you something to laugh about. You know, people refer to Jack Daniel’s as ‘Gentleman Jack.’ If you’re going to start making fun of me, then you should start calling me Gentleman Jack.”

But she couldn’t stop. It was like the floodgates had opened. She laughed so hard she was gasping for air.

“You, sir, are no gentleman,” she said at last, poking his chest. He was so muscular, it was like poking iron.

Lust filled his eyes. “Oh, baby, you are so right about that. I am certainly no gentleman.” In one swift move, he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. He held her hands together on his chest as he started tickling her ribs.

“Jack! Jack! Stop!” she gasped. “Can’t breathe!”

“Promise to stop teasing me?”

She nodded.

“Say it.”

She tried to speak, but he kept tickling her, and she couldn’t get any words out.

“God, I love your laugh.”

She finally stopped laughing when he leaned up and kissed her neck. “Stop.”
Kiss
. “Calling.”
Kiss. Kiss. Lick
. “Me.”
Lick. Lick. Lick
. “Jack.”
Kiss. Lick. Suck. Kiss
. “Daniels.”

She nodded, suddenly serious. And for the next hour Jack proceeded to show Chrissy all the ways he was no gentleman.

At last they lay in bed, completely spent. “I’m crazy in love with you, Christine Martin. There’s no one I’d rather fight with, and I can’t wait to do so for the rest of our
lives.”

“And I can’t wait to perform stupidectomies on you for the rest of our lives. I love you, Jack.”

Jack came home after a hellish day at work. He was tired, grimy, and quite frankly bitchy. It was the middle of the night, and he didn’t want to wake Chrissy. But his keys clinked against the metal of the doorknob slightly, just enough to send Drogo into a yapping frenzy. Quickly he closed the door behind him, crouched down, and whisper-shouted at Drogo to shut up. When the dog saw it was just Jack, he growled one last time, showing his tiny sharp teeth, and lazily wandered back up to the bedroom. Quietly Jack unfastened his shirt, then threw it in the basket in the laundry room. He was just about to turn on the kitchen light when Chrissy walked in and crashed right into him.

“Holy shit!” Jack exclaimed, clutching his chest. “Thank God I didn’t still have my gun on me. You scared me half to death, woman.”

“Sorry. I heard the barking.” She reached up on the tips of her toes to greet him with a proper and chaste kiss. However, kisses with Jack were never chaste … or proper. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer. Her feet left the floor and her back arched. She was mostly healed, except for a few minor scars that were barely visible. She was the Chrissy he’d known before the accident.

She let out an involuntary moan.

“Sorry for waking you,” he mumbled into her neck.

“I was awake,” she said with a sigh. His mouth still nuzzled her neck.

He pulled back and bent down slightly to look at her face. “Why? Everything okay?” The clock showed it was well past two in the morning. “You sick, baby?” His voice was full of concern.

She grunted. “No. I was bored here alone, and so I started watching that television show you love,
Game of Thrones
. I wanted to see about this Drogo character you named our poor little puppy after. One thing led to another, and I’ve watched the entire first season.”

“Oh, really?” He held her tighter. “You think you can wear that tiny outfit the blond lady wears for Drogo, my little Khaleesi?” His eyebrows shot up.

“Oh my sun and stars, you really are a pervert.” She shoved him back playfully. “And a nerd. I’m going to start calling you ‘Geek of Thrones.’ ” She laughed hard and
even slapped her knee. He loved when she laughed at her own dumb jokes as if they were actually hysterical.

“Nerd? Please! You’ve been up all night watching the same show. I guess you’re a nerd too.”

“No, I’ve mostly been watching that Drogo character. Man, he’s really hot!”

Jack let out a deep growl, which made Chrissy giggle.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, baby. It’s just a little television crush. It’s nothing compared to my romance-novel boyfriends. Now
those
guys are hot!” she teased.

“Come on, woman, let’s go to bed before I strip you naked and have my way with you right here on the kitchen counter.”

Chrissy waggled her eyebrows. “Well, in that case … I think I’ll tease you some more.”

Jack lunged forward and picked Chrissy up, intending to make good on his promise. The kitchen counter never stood a chance. The next morning, Chrissy was serving Jack a late breakfast when Slade strolled in excitedly, sending Drogo into a frenzy of barking.

“I have great news.” He slammed a bunch of papers down on the table, almost causing Jack’s orange juice to spill.

“Hey! Watch it.” Jack slid his glass to the other side of his plate.

“What’s up?” Chrissy rounded the corner, and Slade looked up and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Hey, sis. Can you please lock up this damn dog? It almost bit off my thumb last week.”

“Come on, cutie, Uncle Slay’s scared of the itty-bitty puppy.” Chrissy picked up the dog and took him upstairs.

“Itty-bitty puppy, my ass,” Slade grumbled.

“He’s a quarter pit bull, dude. I’ve told you a million times.”

“I’m starting to buy your pit bull bullshit, brother.” Slade lifted up his injured thumb and pouted.

“Please, my little Chihuahua is just that—a tiny little Chihuahua. Man up, guys,” Chrissy scolded the men as she reentered the kitchen. “Anyway, what’s all the excitement and all these papers?” She began to browse through them.

“Mauricio’s looking for a partner for his gym. He gave me all the paperwork to
look at. I was at Tim’s office this morning—”

“Tim the attorney?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. He looked over the paperwork, and everything seems to be good. I’m thinking of doing it. Buying half the interest in the gym. I’m there all the time anyway.”

“Is that the gym where you guys train?” Chrissy asked. Both men nodded. “Yes, that place seems like it does well. Don’t lots of guys train there?”

“How would you know?” Slade asked.

“I … um …” She’d never told him about spying on him that day through the window.

Jack saved her. “She came with me last week,” he lied, then grabbed the paperwork and looked it over.

“Bro, I can’t believe you’re going to own WtF! Awesome,” Jack said. “Well, own part of it, anyway.”

Chrissy let out an amused snort. “You should rename it. It sounds like you’re cursing in acronyms.”

“No, way,” he said. “WtF Academy is practically an institution. Plus, Mauricio would flip the fuck out if I changed it. What the Fuck or Worth the Fight, either way works for me.”

“I guess What the Fuck Academy has a certain ring to it,” Jack said. “Think about it. What the fuck was the owner thinking naming a place What the Fuck?”

“Funny, jerk-off. Anyway, I can’t believe the old man wants a partner,” Slade said. “I can’t let the opportunity pass me by. His daughter Francesca is coming from Brazil to run the business side but wants nothing to do with the fighter and training side. Mauricio’s health has been deteriorating and he wants to retire. They’re looking for someone to help revamp the place and bring in some new equipment, since they’ve signed some pretty well-known fighters to train.”

“That’s so wonderful, Slay.” Chrissy hugged her brother. “So have you told all the boys yet?”

“Just Cain and Travis. They’re next door right now. They wanted to come over, but I told them I wanted to tell you guys alone first. Just in case you thought it was a stupid idea and were going to bitch me out or something.”

“No way, brother. This is great news,” Jack said. “Babe, is it okay if the guys come over?”

“Sure,” Chrissy said.

Slade walked out the door and was back two minutes later. Between Jack, Slade, and the two other men, Chrissy thought she was looking at a scene from the movie
300
,
except that all of the huge men were dressed, and they were in her kitchen.

Jack went over to the guys and they guy-hugged, grunted, and playfully shoved each other—the typical guy greeting, which Chrissy didn’t understand.

“Hey, Whiskey, how’s it going?” Travis said.

Jack scowled at the nickname, which he obviously detested, but Chrissy was amused. “Yeah,
Whiskey
, how’s it going?” she teased.

Travis smiled his big toothy smile and gave her a wink. Jack glared at Travis and pulled Chrissy to his side. Chrissy laughed at Jack’s ridiculous jealousy. It was actually quite adorable in a barbaric kind of way.

Cain, as usual, said nothing. He was leaner than Slade and Jack but even taller, and he looked like a Viking. His blond hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, and his crystal-blue eyes and blond lashes made him look intimidating yet somber.

Just then Slade’s phone rang. He listened briefly, then replied, “I’m with Jack and Chrissy next door. Come over.” He hung up.

There was a tap on the door a moment later. Jack opened the door to a tall woman with long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was at least five foot eight, but with her sky-high stiletto heels she easily surpassed the six-foot mark. She had flawless white skin and emerald cat eyes. And her body … well, Chrissy would give her firstborn child to have a body like that. She was sex on stilettos, sultry and confident.

“This beautiful lady here is my new business partner, Francesca,” Slade introduced her. “She’s Mauricio’s daughter. Francesca, this is my sister, Chris, Jack’s girlfriend. I’m still a little grossed out ’bout that, by the way.” Everyone laughed. “Seriously, I don’t like this whole shacking-up business. Make an honest woman out of her, douchebag!” He playfully shoved Jack’s shoulder.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

“That must be Jessica,” Slade said. Slade and Jessica had been inseparable from the moment Slade had found out she was in the hospital. After she was released, he had helped her settle in back home, even going as far as having her stay at his house and driving her to her physical therapy and doctor’s appointments. A few times Chrissy had asked Slade about their relationship, but he wasn’t forthcoming. The most she ever got from him was “We’re taking it slow.” They didn’t seem lovey-dovey in public, but Chrissy was fairly certain there was something more than friendship between the two of them.

Slade opened the door, took Jessica’s hand, and drew her inside. Chrissy was happy to see her. Slade hadn’t been the only one who visited Jessica often. When Slade was unavailable, Chrissy would go over and help out. In the last few months the two
women had become close friends, although Jessica tended to avoid the topic of Dennis. It was the elephant in the room that they never discussed. But Chrissy was proud Jessica had had the strength to fight back, and one day, when Jessica was ready to hear it, Chrissy would tell her just how proud she was of her and how thankful she was that she’d risked so much to help her brother avoid prison.