Rev (5 page)

She turned to look out the window, staring off into the expanse of desert for a long, still moment. Finally, without turning back to me, she spoke.

“Let’s just say my Prince Charming didn’t really get the whole monogamy part of marriage.”

“Wait…while you guys were getting married, he—”

“Yup,” she exclaimed, leaning back into the seat, arms crossed in front of her. “I walked in on him and some club hostess. Classy stuff. And he was pissed at me for interrupting.”

“Shit,” I blurted out. “Sounds like a real asshole. Some guys just don’t get it. I mean, I like messing around as much as anybody, but—”

“Oh, you like messing around…” she said suddenly and sarcastically. “What a surprise.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just that I know your type. The kind of guy who’s got a bedpost full of notches and no concept of what a relationship is.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “But here’s the thing.” I signaled and veered towards the exit ramp, giving her a brief look-over before getting my eyes back on the road. “I don’t make commitments I can’t keep.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. But then the faintest hint of a smile crossed her lips, and she turned back to the window. “So, we almost there?”

I stopped at the light and shot a quick text to Ink. “Should be fifteen minutes or so with the usual traffic on The Strip.”

“Who’d you text?”

Jeez. She’s really a curious one…

“My brother,” I said before taking off at the green light.

“The one who’s fighting?”

“Nope. Different guy. Very different.”

“Interesting,” she murmured under her breath. “Tight-knit family?”

I tilted my head and shrugged. “Ehhh. Wouldn’t say that exactly. But my brothers aren’t so bad. I’d say I’m a pretty easy going guy, but I figure if you get along with me, you’ll like them just fine.”

“Oh boy, I can hardly wait.”

There was no question I needed to fuck this girl. The moment she got out of the car and walked out towards the entrance to the hotel, I was reminded once more of exactly how plump and juicy her ass was.

Now, that’s really something else…

My dick stiffened and I did the ole’ flip and tuck, discreet as always. I could see each soft, enticing cheek tense against the material of her skirt. And her flimsy light blue blouse skimmed teasingly over the swell of her breasts. I cursed the high neckline, praying I could get a peek at her cleavage.

Now, how do I get from point A to B?

I mean, she wasn’t exactly begging for it. It almost seemed as if—I hated to admit it—she was immune to my charm. It was wholly unexpected. Unfamiliar. Arousing.

I never could back away from a challenge. I watched her beautiful ass, transfixed, as she walked slightly in front of me. Then, as we entered the elevator, I purposefully brushed across her hips while reaching for the lobby button.

By the end of tonight, I’ll get in that skirt. So help me God.

I just had to. There was nothing I wanted or needed more. My cock was throbbing harder than ever.

“So, where are they meeting us?” she asked as the elevator doors opened. Her big brown eyes stared up at me. My gaze fell down to her lips as she spoke. The soft, little mouth I wanted wrapped tightly on my pulsing dick.

“Right here,” I uttered mindlessly, still fantasizing about what I’d do to her body.

I pointed out to the middle of the lobby and sure enough—I mean you couldn’t miss them—Ink and Mayhem were standing there waiting.

“Wow.” Winter stared at Mayhem as we approached.

“Yup,” I said, nodding. “That boy eats his Wheaties.”

Ink looked both of us over with raised eyebrows. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry.” I looked up at Mayhem, who was in his shorts and an extremely large tank top that still looked like it was about to burst. “I apologize.”

“No—no worries.” Mayhem put a heavy hand over my shoulder. “It’s just tradition, Revon, no big deal. Tradition. Duty. Honor. Family. Who cares, right?”

“Come on Cage,” I pleaded, using his real name. “Not now. Tear into me some other time. Don’t you have someone else to use as punching bag tonight?”

“Whose this?” Ink asked. “You’ve never brought a girl along. I didn’t take you for the dating type, Rev. Is it serious?”

“Oh, no… We’re just. Well, long story short is that Winter over here is having a pretty lousy end of the week so far given she was about to—”

Winter elbowed me in the ribs to shut me up. “Pleasure to meet you both,” she said, extending a slight, delicate hand to Ink and Mayhem.

“Well, I like her already,” Ink quipped, shaking her hand.

“Guys, I’m out of here.” Mayhem pulled Ink and me in for a quick huddle. “Shouldn’t be too long of a fight, so let’s go out after, drinks on Rev of course.”

“Hey…”

“Next time get here earlier Rev.” Mayhem shook his head. “You’d think a guy who races for a living would have better timing.”

“So, how’d you two meet?” Ink asked as we watched Mayhem make his way across the lobby like a tank, the crowd parting to either side of him.

I gave Winter a quick look and shrugged. “Well, this one was lost out and about in a dangerous place. Being the Good Samaritan I am, I came to the rescue, swept her off her feet. And you know, she’s head-over-heels, so here we are.”

Winter scoffed, her eyebrows raised. “Yeah, he’s a real saint.”

Ink smiled. “Well, good to have you join us, Winter. Let’s go take our seats. There’s always an extra one waiting for the old man, but he doesn’t come by too often anymore.”

“Yeah, well good thing,” I noted. “Or else it’d be an evening full of pontification and speeches about his disappointment in each and every one of us.”

We followed Ink out of the lobby. I swung my hand over Winter’s delicate shoulders and my hand grazed the soft, silky skin of her arm.

“Looks like you’re my date for the evening,” I remarked, trying to keep things light.

“Just what I always wanted,” she shot back.

It all starts with the banter…

Chapter Five

Winter

Holy smokes!

As we made our way into the arena, I couldn’t help but wonder what these guys were eating. They must have been on some kind of special diet. All three brothers were tall with broad, muscular shoulders that tapered down to trim waists. Their jawlines were chiseled from stone and their eyes were all some kind of different shade of blue. They were easily the three hottest guys I’d ever laid eyes on. Each one could have had a successful career as a male model. But something told me that they weren’t the type to stand around all day getting their picture taken.

The similarities ended there though. The Gryffin brothers were as different from each other as could be, each in their own strikingly attractive way. Cage, or “Mayhem” as he seemed to go by, was clearly the eldest. He dominated the space around him, standing at no less than six-and-a-half feet tall and staring down at everyone with intimidating grey-blue eyes. And he was as big as he was tall. Missing him in crowded room was as likely as missing the Statue of Liberty from Ellis Island. Thick striations ran across his forearms and his heaving musculature strained against his clothing, as if there was a barely contained rage pulsing within.

Somehow though, he seemed like the most disciplined and ordered one, with his deep, demanding voice and close cropped hair. The way he reprimanded Rev was the very picture of a responsible, authoritative older brother. Of course, there must have been some reason people called him “Mayhem.” I’m not sure anyone wanted to get on his bad sad. Sometimes those who lead the most contained and well-ordered lives have wild storms of fury within.

If Cage was the disciplined one, Julian or “Ink” was the measured one. He exuded a well-adjusted, perfectly composed, and wholly tranquil character. He held himself in a mysterious and quiet sort of way, relaxed and reserved, which somehow lent him an air of inherent authority. His brown hair was swept dramatically over his forehead; his toned, tattooed arms rested at his sides, thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans; and his smooth, calming voice hinted at the vast depths of his equanimity.

But there was an edge to him—something I couldn’t quite figure out. At first he struck me as the smart one, measured and poised. But one long look at him and there was an impression of brooding darkness. It was like some great tragedy, some crucible of torment and suffering, had given him a depth of understanding and insight. He serenely crossed his heavily inked arms and absorbed the world around him through deep green-blue eyes. He was as enigmatic as Mayhem was strikingly dominant.

And then there was Revon Gryffin, the youngest, around my age. He was cocky, impetuous, reckless, admittedly a bit charming, and of course drop-dead gorgeous. With perfectly messy hair falling across his mischievous, handsome face, he had that irresistible devil-may-care nonchalance.

And of course, he had the body to match. He was athletic and muscular in an easy sort of way, as if it just came naturally. He wasn’t bulky. He wasn’t the product of endless hours at the gym. His body had that rare mixture of powerful size and agile proportion. He moved gracefully, with an aesthetic, almost sculptural, presence.

Rev lived life in the fast lane. I gleaned as much from the way he talked, the way he drove, and the way he interacted with his brothers. He was full of energy, raw spirit, and endless vigor. He had that vital spark—an unbridled enthusiasm for life that so few possess. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I was captivated from the moment he approached me at the bar. All swagger, a sly smile, and an attitude that was all sex.

“All right, stay here for a second,” he said, jogging me from my internal monologue of observations. “I’m gonna go mess with Mayhem a bit.”

“Is that wise?” I asked, taking a seat next to Ink quite close to the ring.

Rev shrugged as a crooked grin washed over his face. “Hey, I always do. And you heard what a stickler he is for traditions.”

We were right by the corner of the ring, and I could hear Rev and Mayhem’s loud, boisterous exchange over the noise of the crowd.

“You know,” Ink mused, sitting to my right, “he really hasn’t ever brought anyone to these fights. It’s very peculiar to see him take such an interest.”

“Oh…well, it’s not like we’re together. I just needed a ride back to Vegas…” My voice trailed off, lost in the din of the crowd.

The fight was starting. Rev patted Mayhem on his massive shoulder. “Don’t make me have to come and bail you out.”

Mayhem bellowed. “Ha…Right. We wouldn’t want to risk getting a scratch on that pretty baby face of yours.”

Rev punched Mayhem in the shoulder. “Hey…I’ve had my fair share of fights you know.”

Mayhem raised his arms as Rev finished taping them up. “Yeah, and what happened?”

Rev leapt down from the ring, turning back to the ring for a quick second. “I’m just too damn fast.”

Mayhem rolled his eyes and backed into his corner, preparing mentally for the fight. Rev took a seat to my left.

“This shouldn’t last long,” he said, turning to me with a smile. “After which, you should come grab a drink with me. I’m sure we can find something better than the last place.”

“Uh, sure.” I muttered, absent-mindedly.

I hadn’t intended to spend any more time with Rev. Heck, I’d planned on getting far away from him the moment I got back into Las Vegas.

And that’s because I knew this would happen. I knew I couldn’t trust myself around a guy that gorgeous and charming. If he could send tingles of electricity through my body with the slightest touch, I could only imagine what else he could do. There wasn’t any helping it. If he wanted me, I couldn’t resist.

And he wants me.

I was aware of the eager look in his eyes when he cast not so subtle glances at my chest. He practically burned holes through the thin material of my blouse. Rev wasn’t afraid of making his intentions known. His sexuality was heavy and palpable, as noticeable as the muscular body under his t-shirt.