Silence 4.5 (5 page)

Bastian had left the gym confused. His body was strung tight, his hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching at his sides. There were very few times he’d felt this jacked up, and it had never been because of some girl he didn’t even know. Was he…jealous? Could it be?

Nah, he thought, pushing the ridiculous notion away. But that small voice that he often ignored piped up insisting he was lying to himself. He was definitely jealous. Barreling through the halls, he headed to his office, slamming the door loudly behind him. His hands immediately ran through his hair, yanking at the strands.

What the fuck was wrong with him? His heart raced as if he’d just ran a marathon, and all he could think about was the tiny girl with big eyes that was currently hovering in another man’s corner as though she belonged there.

“Fuck!” he yelled, kicking at the trashcan beside his desk. Pixie was bringing out all kinds of feelings in him, and he didn’t like any one of them. Lust he could handle, but this? This uncontrollable urge to make her his, to stake his claim in front of all other men…to rip apart any man that would dare touch his woman? This was insane.

When he’d caught the two of them together, he had almost pulled the pistol he kept in his waistband and shot the man’s arm off right there. That would have taught him a lesson. He’d seen red, brighter and hotter than any other time in his life. Nothing, nothing, had ever ignited such a reaction in him instantaneously the way that moment had.

She made him crazy. And then she’d coolly told him to calm down and it was though his body listened to her more than it did him. Right away he’d started to cool, his eyes finding hers and getting lost in their depths. Just like that.

What. The. Fuck.

He needed to stay away from her, that was all there was to it. He didn’t have time for distractions like her, especially if she was up to something nefarious as he suspected. What he needed to do was figure out what the hell she and her friends were up to, and then put a stop to it.

Sebastian Black was never bested by anyone else. He was in control at all times. Especially under his own roof. Whatever they thought they were going to achieve here, he was personally going to make sure they failed – miserably. Which meant he needed a clear head, away from pretty girls with mouths that were too full for their own good, and pink like a ripe raspberry.

Christ, he was practically spouting poetry now. For the next hour he did everything he could to get his mind back on target, but it was futile. No matter what he did, visions of Pixie in those tight workout clothes, nothing on beneath them, filtered through his mind on a constant repeat that tortured him. With another curse, he got up and headed to her room, knowing she’d be back there by now. He would go in and finally get out of her what she was really up to, and then he’d drag her to the regular cells himself.

No more of this shit of keeping her close to him. Having her next door to his bedroom was the worst idea he’d ever had. He needed to get her to speak, no matter what it took, and then he needed her gone – fast. Except, as he neared her room, thoughts of her with the other fighter kept popping up in his mind, returning his earlier feelings of jealousy with a vengeance. By the time he stood outside her door, he was just as worked up as he’d been in the gym.

He stopped, facing the wood, not entering. Taking deep breaths, he ordered himself to calm the fuck down, but it was useless. She was just beyond the door, so close…he was a goner. Opening the door, his eyes found her instantly. When she met his gaze, his heart did some crazy flipping thing that made him feel like a young lad again, crushing on some girl for the first time.

Except this was so much stronger than anything he’d felt before. No matter what he told himself, the second he looked at her, all he thought was – mine. As though the universe had decided it, placing her in his path for exactly this reason. He slammed the door shut behind him, closing them off to the world.

As he drew closer to her, he could see fear flit through her eyes, mixed with her own anger as she tried to put on a brave face in front of his wrath. It would do her no good. She was going to learn soon enough just who she was messing with, and regret the day she’d ever come here.

He didn’t stop until he had her pressed against the wall, his chest inches from hers. Those big blue eyes widened as her slim, delicate fingers gripped the wall, reaching out as though she hadn’t even realized she’d been backing up toward it during his advance. He liked that. Liked that he made her do things she didn’t even notice, her attention so focused on him. Whatever she may think of him, her body had decided she liked him, that much he was sure of.

The soft pink blush that coloured her cheeks told him all he needed to know, as did her dilated pupils. Oh yes, she wasn’t immune to him, especially at this proximity. It made him want to howl in some primitive way. He stepped even closer, feeling her chest quiver against his as her breathing turned ragged. Electricity sparked between, something he could not refute. Whether he wanted this woman as a distraction or not, there was something undeniable between them that crackled in the air. It drew him to her, despite his best efforts.

Anything he had planned on saying to her had disappeared from his mind. The incident in the gym, her real reasons for why she was here, who she really was…none of that seemed important anymore now that he stood this close to her, smelling her sweet scent.

He leaned in closer, breathing her into his lungs, savouring it. When he spoke, his voice was so gravelly he barely recognized it. “You drive me crazy,” he said, not meaning to say the words but they fell out before he could stop them.

Her eyes widened in surprise as her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Well you drive me crazy,” she said, her brows furrowing accusingly.

Something light filled his chest, making him suddenly want to smile. There wasn’t much left in this world that could elicit a smile from Bastian Black, but the indignation and desire written on her pretty face did so effortlessly. “Is that so?” he asked.

“Yes,” she all but huffed. “And I don’t like it.”

“Well guess what?” he said, leaning in until their noses brushed.

“What?” she whispered.

“I don’t like it either.” Silencing her before she could speak, Bastian covered her lips with his, snaking an arm around her slim waist to press her tightly against him. She stiffened within his hold for only a moment before he felt her melt against him. Her lips parted on a sigh and he took advantage, finally tasting the sweetness that was Pixie.

CHAPTER FIVE

As her Gran used to always say – Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

There was a day when Pixie had been living out on the streets, before she’d met Phoenix and the others, when she’d spotted a couple stumble out of a bar and sneak into the alley she’d been calling home at the time. From the shelter of the cardboard box she’d found, she had seen the two of them kiss each other against the wall as though their lives depended on it.

Never in her life had Pixie experienced that type of passion or lust with anyone. She’d never understood the magnetic pull some men and women seemed to have on each other. Charlotte and Pete, and Bridgette and Roman had that sort of electric chemistry. It was something she’d never really expected to experience herself.

But here it was, clouding her senses and driving her wild. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said Bastian drove her crazy. He did. In so many ways. He was cruel, deceptive, underhanded, and just all around bad. He ran a fighting ring and had kidnapped her friends, for Christ’s sake. He was also overbearing, domineering and rude.

The problem was…he was also sinfully handsome. His body moved like she imagined a panther would, if they were human. He was all sleek muscles and smooth lines. When he walked toward her, he was a predator incarnate. Everything from his chiseled features to those blue eyes had her captivated any time she was in his presence.

It made her angry to know that this person she should despise also seemed to raise feelings in her that no one else ever had, in her entire life. When he’d trapped her against the wall she’d been equal parts excited and terrified. And she didn’t know which emotion had to do with her attraction, because the way her stomach dipped and her hands shook terrified her as well.

When his mouth had met hers, she’d instantly gone to push him away. But that had only lasted a second, as her body seemed to recognize his. His tongue slipped past her lips to tangle with hers, both of them moaning on contact. He pushed her harder against the wall, his hips lining up with hers.

Pixie slid her hands over his stomach, up to his chest, and across those broad shoulders that had caught her attention the first time she’d laid eyes on him. His hands gripped her waist in a bruising hold that spoke loudly of his loss of restraint. Moving up to his hair, Pixie gripped the soft strands, crushing herself against him tighter. She needed more. More. If she’d somehow managed to melt inside his body, it probably still wouldn’t be close enough.

He growled against her lips, his hands flashing to her thighs and picking her up effortlessly. Wrapping her legs around him, he pinned her there, his hips and hardness exactly where she needed him. She whimpered at the raw sensation.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, breaking their kiss to look at her. He ground against her, causing her eyes to roll as fierce arousal shot through her entire body.

“Yes,” she panted.

“You’re shaking,” he said, his voice low and almost in a sense of awe. All the cockiness she was used to from him vanished to be replaced by a look that spoke loudly of worship as she opened her eyes to meet his.

“I need you,” was all she could manage.

He rumbled loudly, saying something under his breath she didn’t catch, before crushing their mouths together again. This was all sorts of wrong, she thought. The smarter part of her brain was screaming at her to stop what she was doing. He was the enemy! Was this how Bridgette had felt when she’d first fallen for Roman Adamson?

Pixie didn’t know…and quite frankly, she didn’t care at that moment. It might have been wrong, but it felt sinfully right. Her body was his as he brought her closer to the edge from just his kiss. If a connection as strong as this only came once in a lifetime, wouldn’t it be wrong to not indulge in it? Sure, there was no future for them, and once she managed to get them all out of there, she’d likely never see Bastian Black again.

But at least for these fleeting moments, she’d know what it was like to be with someone that set her aflame. She’d know true passion. The kind that made you lose all thought, leaving you a slave to your baser needs. As far as she was concerned, everything outside that room could wait. At that moment, all she wanted was Bastian.

She moved her hips, increasing the delicious friction between them, moaning against his expert lips. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, slipping under to splay against her heated skin. She sucked in a breath at the feel of him, suddenly desperate to have his hands on every inch of her body.

As if reading her mind, Bastian made quick work of removing her shirt and his, without stepping away from her. They both gasped as their naked chests met.

“You are so beautiful, it hurts,” he murmured, peppering his kisses down her neck. She arched, giving him all the room he needed. “I want you so badly, I can’t think straight.”

His head lifted and their eyes met. Were they really going to do this? Pixie hadn’t been with a man in years. Quite frankly, she’d never really felt like she was missing out on much. The men she’d been with in the past had all been boys she’d grown up with, and none had known much about how to please a woman. They’d been sloppy, unmemorable couplings. It had always made her wonder what the fuss was all about.

Yes, they were definitely going to do this, she decided. Even if it was just this one time. She needed this. Her body was strung so tight, if she didn’t get some release, she was bound to implode. And to have someone like Bastian be the one to make her feel this way was…well she didn’t know what it was. Her mind was too clouded to really put her actions into perspective.

She had a strong suspicion that she’d regret it later – or at least convince herself she regretted it. But all that could wait. The world was too fucked up not to live in the moment just once. This was her moment.

“Take me to the bed,” she said, her eyes trying to convey all the things she was feeling. Could he read her desire for him there? The way he stared back, she was sure he could.

He didn’t answer her at first, his eyes just taking her in slowly, their panting breaths the only sound in the room. He took in her tightly bound hair, down to her eyes, then her lips that she licked slowly when he did, making his hands flex on her thighs. Then he looked lower, his hungry gaze devouring her naked breasts.

She wasn’t a well-endowed woman, but he didn’t seem to mind. When he looked back up into her eyes, the look there had her shivering in anticipation. When he spoke next, she knew she was truly a goner.

“Fuck the bed.”

The ripping sound of fabric assaulted her ears as he tore away the thin tights she’d been wearing. She gasped in shock, but didn’t have time to process anything else as his mouth bent down to latch on a nipple at the same time his thumb brushed against her most sensitive spot.

She moaned loudly, gripping his head against her. A single digit slipped through her silky folds as his thumb continued to drive her insane. He groaned against her skin as he felt how ready she was for him.

“You’re so hot and wet,” he said reverently. “I want to do so many things to you and draw this out, but I don’t know how much longer I can wait now that I have you in my arms.”

“Then don’t,” she said, her voice pleading. She didn’t need foreplay, she just needed him. She felt empty, and something told her he was the only thing that could fill her up. He set her down on shaky legs, stepping back just enough to pull his pants down, kicking them off to the side.