Silence 4.5 (7 page)

Stop it, she scolded herself. There was nothing wrong with her body. And why in hell should she care who Bastian associated with? So what if the two of them could possibly be going back to his room to do what he and Pixie had done earlier? He was nothing to her. Nothing.

Looking back up, she cringed, unable to help it, as the woman pressed even closer to him, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. It was disgusting to watch. And what was worse, Bastian did nothing to stop her. He simply looked over at her, giving her a small smile, before resuming his conversation.

Just then the fight bell rang out, signaling the start of the fight. Ding, ding, is right, motherfucker, Pixie thought as she watched the woman lean up and kiss the side of Bastian’s neck.

Bloody hell, she was going to tear that woman’s eyes out.

CHAPTER SEVEN

There were always moment in your life where your more basic instincts kicked in, and you reacted without really thinking it through. This was either done by way of certain actions, or by lashing out with words you didn't necessarily mean. Often, these moments happened during times of anger. There was just something about that powerful, adrenalized emotion that pushed people to do things they wouldn't do when calmer.

Well Pixie never had these kinds of moments. Mostly because she never allowed herself to get so angry that she wouldn't be able to control her actions. Her wits were her best asset and she'd learned from watching others how much trouble one could get in if they let any emotion rule them.

All of that changed in a matter of seconds as she marched across the gym, the crowd, the fight - everything, was nothing but a blur as her sole focused zeroed in on the woman in the red dress. There was a small part of her, way back in the distant recesses of her mind, that was screaming at her to stop, horrified at the whole scenario. She ignored this part. Some sort of new Pixie was in control now, awakened by Bastian, and she was fucking pissed.

It occurred to her half way there that what she was doing was insane. Not that she cared. Missy might have even called out to her at one point, but Pixie ignored her, knowing her friends would think she'd gone nuts. And hadn't she?

The woman was still pressed to Bastian, whispering something she was sure was a sensual offer or promise, just as Pixie reached them. Without hesitating, Pixie reached out, ripping her hands off of his arm, forcing her back. The look of shock was almost comical, if Pixie were so inclined to laugh at that moment.

"You need to back the fuck up," she said, stepping into the other woman's space.

"Excuse me?" the other woman said in a shrill voice.

"Sorry, do I need to slow it down for you?" she asked mockingly. Leaning in closer, Pixie bit out each word so there was no confusion. "You. Need. To. Back. The. Fuck. Up."

The woman looked past her, likely to Sebastian, which just pissed Pixie off more.

Her thin lips pouted in much the same way Pixie would imagine a child would when told they couldn't have a toy. "Sebastian?" she whined.

Pixie snapped her fingers in her face. "Speak to me, sweetheart. I'm standing right here."

The woman looked at her, finally taking her in fully. A look of disgust filled her face. "Who are you? Aren't you just some fighter? Why don't you run back to your corner?" she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Oh hell no. "I am a fighter," Pixie said with a cold smile. "Want to see how good I am?"

"Okay, that's enough," Bastian ordered, his voice slightly breaking into the haze of fury. That is, until she saw the smirk break out across the lady's face. Pixie went to step toward her but found herself being pulled back instead. Bastian wrapped his arms around her like a vise, every one of his muscles tense against her. She struggled uselessly, wanting nothing more than to smack that look off the floozy’s face.

"Pixie," Bastian warned darkly. "I said that's enough."

She stopped, taking a deep breath. She felt him do the same, his nose angling toward her hair. Suddenly she felt him grow hard against her ass, even though she could sense his anger radiating from his body.

"You can let me go now," she said loud enough for only him to hear. His arms only tightened.

"I'll do what I want, when I want. In all things. Understood?"

Oh, yeah, he was pissed, she thought. Whatever, so was she. Especially after that comment. Of course he'd fuck whomever he wanted, he wasn't hers. Nor did she want him. The fact that she had even let him touch her to begin with was all wrong.

Turning her head so she could look at him over her shoulder, she smiled coldly. "Understood."

His eyes searched hers before looking away. Calling to one of the guards, he gave him orders she didn't hear and then released her for a second until the other man grabbed hold.

"She a new one of yours?" she heard the man he'd been speaking to ask.

"I thought you said you didn't sleep with the fighters, Basty," she woman said just as Pixie got pulled away.

"I don't," she heard Bastian say. "And who's in my bed is none of your fucking concern." Pixie snorted as she walked stiffly across the room. Her eyes met Phoenix's and she instantly knew the leader of the Archers had witnessed the entire exchange. Great, she thought with an inward sigh.

"Got a problem, Pix?" Phoenix said with a grin.

Pixie grimaced. "Not a word," she replied, walking out without a backward glance.

What the hell was wrong with her? And why did Pixie's possessiveness make him want to haul her to his bed and stay there with her for a month?

He forced himself to stay and watch the next two fights, not that he really saw anything. Pixie was probably pacing the confines of her room, where he'd told his men to return her. Keeping his distance wasn't working out. Now more than ever, considering the display she'd just put on, it was imperative he stop whatever was brewing between them.

And yet he'd never wanted her more than he did now. Truth was, if she hadn't come barreling up to them, her sexy, tight body vibrating with anger, that pouty mouth of hers telling Leigh off as if he was hers, he would have told Leigh to leave him alone himself. His entire body had rejected the feeling of her hands and lips on him.

All he could think about at the time was how much better Pixie's had felt. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he let out a sigh of relief as the last bell rang, ending the night. Well, not his night. He had a feeling his night was just beginning.

Seeing Red speak to Pixie, he'd immediately noticed some familiarity there. He wasn't stupid, and he knew there was no way they'd become friends in the short time Pixie had been in the cell block. No, it just reaffirmed his initial suspicion that they were up to something, he just hadn't realized it included Red as well.

And if she was a part of whatever was going on, the fucking big guy she called hot shot was in on it too. Which just left him the task of figuring out what the hell they were all about. Nothing happened under his roof that he didn't know about, and that wasn't about to change now.

First things first though, he thought as he made his way out of the room, ignoring anyone who tried to get his attention. Standing outside her door, he faltered, taking a deep breath. He knew if he saw her and let his need take over, he'd never be strong enough to get any real answers out of her. Play time was over. He needed to forget what had happened between them and treat her like all the other fighters that came through here.

There wasn't a damn thing about her that made her any different. Bastian opened the door, their eyes meeting, and instantly his breath left him in a rush.

Jesus Christ.

Pixie stood, fixed to her spot by the end of the bed, those big doe eyes guarded. Her hair that was normally pulled back into a tight bun now fell all around her. Thick waves of warm chocolate reached just below her shoulders. He felt himself harden at just the sight, imagining himself running his hands through the strands, gripping them tight during the height of pleasure. Shit. This was already not going as planned, he thought miserably.

Clearing his throat, he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He knew how to keep his game face on in front of the best of them, and this little thing before him was no exception. "You want to tell me what that was all about?" he asked, breaking through the tense silence.

Uncertainty flashed in her eyes before she hid it. She was as good as he was at schooling her features, he noticed. Although he hadn’t missed that brief slip.

She shrugged as though her behaviour was no big deal.

"You have nothing to say now?" he pressed, moving closer. "You didn't seem to have that problem earlier."

They stared at one another, calculating.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear," he said slowly. "I don't answer to anyone, and I do as I please. There's nothing between us beyond the fact that we fucked. That's it."

She flinched and everything inside him revolted. Fuck. This wasn't going well and the words spilling from his mouth were all wrong. She seemed to struggle for a response, her eyes darting everywhere but at him. Since the first moment he caught sight of her, he'd never seen her look so lost or unsure. Something told him she didn't know what to make of her behaviour earlier either. The vulnerability he saw in her, beneath all the strength she normally possessed, cracked away at his resolve.

"Fuck it," he said.

She looked at him in surprise for a split second before he crashed his mouth into hers. Pulling her tight, he slipped his tongue against hers as she sighed, melting into him. His hands instantly dug into her hair as though starved for the feel of it. God she was beautiful. His chest felt tight with just her nearness, as if it hurt just to breathe. She overwhelmed his senses.

"What is this between us?", he said between kisses, nipping at her lips and chin. He couldn't get enough of her. She let her head fall back as he continued to bite and suck a line down her neck.

"Lust," she answered, her voice a whisper.

He grunted, pressing their hips closer so she could feel every inch of what she did to him. "It's awful," he said.

"I agree," she replied.

He chuckled. Any thoughts of interrogating her flew from his mind as he lifted her easily into his arms, carrying her over to the bed. They fell together, her legs hooking around him to pull him against her center. They both gasped as their hips rotated, increasing their desire.

"Off," she ordered, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

Bastian leaned up so he could rid himself of his clothing. "So demanding," he chastised teasingly. She wiggled as though her patience was growing thin, a smile lighting up her face. Bastian stilled, his hands freezing at the buttons.

Pixie had never smiled at him before, and the change was like a punch to his gut. While there was no doubt she was beautiful normally, seeing her with those eyes lit up and her lips turned up made him realize just how stunning she really was. How was someone like her letting a man like him touch her? He thought. Bastian swallowed, his heart feeling as though it were being squeezed in his chest.

Her smile slowly slipped and he wanted to shout at the loss. "What's wrong?" she asked, uncertainty filling her eyes.

He shook his head, unable to voice the unfamiliar feelings running through his mind.

Reaching out, he slowly lifted her shirt up, exposing the creamy, smooth skin beneath, inch by inch. Pulling it over her head, her dark tresses surrounded her, creating another breathtaking image.

Bastian had no doubt that the picture before him would never leave his mind for as long as he lived. Their moments may be stolen ones between two people who could never truly be together, but at least he'd have the memories. Those alone would be enough. At least, he hoped so.

Bending forward, he took one of her nipples in his mouth, groaning as her hands dove into his hair, pulling at it while still pressing him closer, keeping him there. Not that he minded, because there was nowhere else he'd rather be right then. Moving to the other breast, he showed it the same attention, soaking up the little moans and whimpers she made. It was too much.

Sitting back again, he made quick work of his pants and hers before covering her body with his, loving the feel of their bare skin against each other’s. Pixie wrapped her legs around him again, guiding him to where she needed him most. He pushed forward, gritting his teeth at the feel of her warmth hugging him.

"You're so perfect," he said, pulling almost all the way out before pushing in slowly again. "So fucking perfect." Setting a quicker, harder pace, he moved over her, his head tilted down so he could watch where they connected.

"More," she begged, tossing her head from side to side.

Bastian pulled out, grabbing Pixie and flipping her over onto her stomach. Lifting her up so she rested on her knees, he entered her again from behind, sinking in deeper than before.

"Fuck," she whimpered.

He started the same grueling pace, his breath coming out harshly. "You're mine, Pixie." The words slipped out before he could stop them. And once they were, he strangely had no urge to take them back.