Tap Out (22 page)

He shrugged, and focused on answering her question honestly. “My billboard days are done. I texted my manager. He’s terminating my modeling contract. No one knows this yet. You’ve got the exclusive you wanted so badly. See, I’ve a bone to pick with myself. Learned a lesson—all the time training, getting into peak physical shape and ready to fight, it isn’t enough without mental discipline. Without drive and commitment, a fighter will never advance. Those mental battles are the bloodiest, get my drift?”

She sat up straighter in her seat, stiff and proper. Yeah, she knew exactly what he was talking about.

It took her a second to recover.

He could tell she realized that he hadn’t answered her question by the silence that followed. After a long exhale, he muttered, “Just watch the tape.”

“So, you were that guy—physically ready but otherwise unprepared?” she promptly asked.

“Yep, a poster child for it.”

She turned her eyes from the road, cocked her head, and studied him. “What happened?”

“My older brother died in Afghanistan. Mikey.”

She peered at him closely. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you had another brother.”

“When Family Services broke us up, he headed into the army. I didn’t get to see him before he died.”

She frowned, quietly considering his words.

“Ultimate American Male isn’t who I am and was never what I wanted. My life kind of derailed after Mikey died. Winning Tetnus is something I need to do for my brothers, and for myself. Like you said before, it’ll be proof that I’m a survivor. I’ve got big plans to get my shit back on track.”

He heard her sigh. “You and me both.”

He balled his fist in his hand, and added, “Tetnus is all I’ve wanted for a long time. I’ll do whatever it takes to win.”

Hell, he needed to get a grip, and rid his head of all the soft, lovey-dovey nonsense rattling around inside. A man like him didn’t deserve a woman like her for the long term. She brought out things in him—a hope in him,
feelings
within him—that were best left dead. Better he shake it off now, before things got out of hand, as if his pile of bullshit wasn’t high enough with the issue of the duffel bag.

No, he needed to clear the air, then clear his head. Make sure she knew to keep things light. Give himself a solid haymaker of a reminder, as well. He was going to finish this thing, for himself and his brother. Without her.

“I don’t—can’t—do relationships. No long-term commitments. Best you know that now. What this is, is casual. Temporary.”

A small huffing sound was the only indication she’d heard him.

Sophie averted her gaze, studying the horizon for a while and taking measure of what he was telling her. Smart woman. Silence accompanied them down a long stretch of desert roadway, though his brain kept chanting
bastard
,
lying bastard
, until Sophie asked in a low voice, “Winning Tetnus is that important to you?”

Shit, he had to delete that freakin’ third truth fest of a video. Better for both of them if she remained oblivious to his bleeding heart. “Yep. Nothing else matters.”

“Deflecto-mundo,” she murmured.

Terrific. She wasn’t falling for his crap—it seemed she knew him better than he knew himself. Jesus, all the confirmation she needed was on her camcorder.

“So, you’re saying that if I pull the car over, get out, strip naked, and bend over the hood, it wouldn’t matter to you in the slightest?” she quipped, though the tightness around her eyes suggested her taunt held more than she was letting on.

How easy it would be to let someone like Sophie in.
It was his turn to squirm in his seat. Except he couldn’t because his cock pinned him in place, swelling up like a long iron weight and growing heavier by the second. The tension that had been building since their repartee reignited. Thank God she was steering him back into a more comfortable ride, one with him in the driver’s seat.

“You’re saying that if I got down on my knees between your—”

“Pull over.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her shake her head.

“Pull. The. Car. Over.”

“Tell me it doesn’t matter.”

Shit.

“Tell me that when we get to Vegas and Anthony becomes the new focus of my documentary, that won’t matter to you.”

He heard a low-pitched sound. From her? Or him?

“I care about you. Tell me that doesn’t matter that I’m falling...” Her voice sounded hoarse, deep and filled with emotion.

He thought about her back in the desert, hurtling rocks into the sky. Her strength of character. Her stubbornness. She was a survivor, just like him.

“Oh, darn,” she added. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”

That was it.

“Pull the car over, chili cheeks.”

“No.”

“Do it.”

“Fuck you.”

Her words surprised him. He grinned. Hell, maybe winning Tetnus wasn’t the only thing he needed in his life.

He reached over and placed his palm on her thigh.

She jerked away as if his touch burned her. His heart felt like someone had set it afire and it had started to blaze uncontrollably. Knowing what he’d been—a neglected, troubled brawler. Knowing where he was headed—to become the toughest fighter around. Knowing this, she still cared.

The thing about professional fighters that set them apart from the amateurs was that they recognized the exact moment when their opponent whipped out skills they’d never even imagined. Mad skills. The kind that forced a fighter to his knees and to accept defeat. And Sophie’d, thrown him one motherfucker of a punch. Falling for
him
. This was the tap out of all tap outs.

“Sophie,” he said softly, “Pull over, sweetheart.” He gently squeezed her thigh so she’d look at him.

She shot him a glare that would melt ice.

“I lied.” He shook his head, closed his eyes, and reopened them. What he saw was her staring at him like he was someone worth loving.

Maybe, just maybe...he could live up to her expectations. It was well worth a try if he could keep his shit together. He relaxed, his decision made.

Just like Tetnus, nothing was going to stop him from winning
her
.

“Vegas can wait. I’ll show you...”

* * *

The car bounced, cutting Caden off, as they catapulted backward against their seats. The rear of the Aston fishtailed and Sophie focused all of her energy on safely steering the car off the roadway. Crapola, she must have hit something.

“Holy shit,” Caden exclaimed, throwing his hands on the dashboard as they jerked to a stop. Then, he laughed. “You trying to tell me you’re tired of driving or that you want me up inside you fast?”

Maybe I’m trying to tell you I see beneath your sexpot exterior—that every time you throw sex into the mix
,
you’re deflecting from the truth.
Caden climbed out of the car before she could put her thoughts to words.

She followed, scanning the long expanse of barren roadway for some signs of life. The air was cooler than Phoenix but hotter than Sedona.

He nodded toward the hood. “Bend over.”

“Right here on the side of the highway?” Man, she was shocked the idea was such a turn on. Naughty, like something Sophie Morelle might do. Maybe she was a bit more like her alter ego than she’d realized. And Caden sure knew how to bring this side of her out to play, alright.

“This was your idea, chili cakes.”

It certainly was her idea. “Is this your idea of make-up sex?”

Caden took a long look up the road one way and then the other. Finally, his eyes fell on her. “More than that, okay? Much more. But that’s all I’m saying.”

Sophie blinked, and her heart mimicked the movement.

She eyed the hood. When had she ever done anything remotely wild? Or exciting? With someone she cared about? Stepping closer, his hands touched her sides and he turned her so her back was to the hood.

“What if a car passes us?”

“We’ll see them way before they can see us. Keep your eyes on the horizon, honey.” His hands found the buttons on his Bermuda shorts. He opened them and was working his cock out of his boxers before she could even say the word
horizon
.

“Drop your panties and get on up on the hood.”

“I thought you wanted me bent over the hood?” she stated, saucily, the idea that they were about to get it on along a deserted stretch of Nevada highway downright titillating. Still, she added, “That hood’s got to be hotter than heck.”

“Come on. Vegas is waiting. I’m waiting.”

Oh, boy, was he ever.

“You won’t be seated there for long, and I wanna take good care of you first.”

Oh. My. God.

Before she could process what that meant, he lifted her up and placed her on the hood. His warm palms caressed her thighs on their journey upward, slowly, until a finger slid beneath the elastic of her thong, and in one long stroke, caressed her nub. Her hips lifted off the hood and her throat went dry as a desert.

“Keep your eyes on the roadway.”

Yeah
,
right
. At that moment, a parade could have been marching by and she wouldn’t have cared.

Deftly, his hands found her hips and shifted her slightly upward as he yanked her panties free.

She heard the rustle of her skirt being lifted. Her eyes nearly rolled right off the horizon when she felt his tongue touch the sensitive skin on the inside of her knee. With his head beneath her skirt, he traced a path between her thighs.

He laved her, running his tongue deep between her folds.

She didn’t know what was hotter, the heat of the hood, the flush of moisture at the juncture of her legs, or the wild devil between her thighs.

His finger worked her folds open as his tongue delved in her depths.

She leaned back onto her elbows on the hood and looked at the sky, watching it fill with stars as her climax came fast and hard.

Her skirt fell back into place but not for long. She heard the sound of foil unwrapping, and a renewed wave of moisture pooled between her legs. He slid her forward, tugged her upright, and lifted her off clear the hood.

“I’ve been dying to get inside you all day. Hold it up.”

Grabbing both sides of the waistband, she yanked her skirt up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Immediately, his cock found her center and pushed into her.

“Never seems like I can get enough of you, Sophie,” he murmured, thrusting deeper and faster. “Every time I’m near you, all I want is more.”

Her heart sang out in chorus with her body. So beautifully, she wanted to cry.

He paused and searched the highway. “Let’s move things inside.” She felt empty at his withdrawal, and ached for more. He led her to the passenger seat and climbed in, his magnificent cock at full attention. “You keep your eyes south and I’ll watch the northern horizon. Hop on.”

It took a few awkward seconds to straddle him in the bucket seat but the reward was so worth it, as her moist core found his delicious hardness and she sank down onto him. He lifted her up by the hips, then let her drop. Over and over, until her body moved in perfect rhythm with his own.

He groaned.

Stars appeared once more overhead, shining brighter and brighter with every thrust.

His cock thickened inside her. So sweet, and so very sinful.

He touched her cheek in a gentle caress. A whisper of a smile curled his lips before his mouth claimed hers, his tongue delving inside her mouth in time with their movements.

Time was irrelevant. Nothing mattered but Caden, and the feeling building deep within her.

She broke free of his lips, arched her back and cried out.

With three long thrusts, he groaned, a raw, heady, lustful sound, and climaxed along with her.

“Holy dang-diggity, that was hot,” she murmured into his ear, nuzzling her cheek up against the warmth of his neck.

Her entire body seemed to quiver around him as his cock twitched in agreement.

Yep. Vegas could wait.

Chapter Sixteen

TWISTER: The kind of fight you just didn’t see coming

Someone cleared their throat. Loudly. Then repeated the action before commanding, “Please disengage and remove yourselves from the vehicle.”

Caden froze beneath her. Sophie opened her eyes and peered over her shoulder. Sure enough, a man dressed in blue shorts and a blue shirt stood at the hood of the Aston, his gaze toward the sky. His sedan’s flashing blue light in the background. Busted by a Nevada Highway Patrolman.

Caught like two horny teens. Not good. Not at all. Jeez, she probably looked a wreck. Or worse, like someone who’d just done the dirty in the bucket seat of a James Bond mobile. Her thighs shook, from mortification and from the cramp in her right leg from straddling him. Luckily, her skirt covered them enough for Caden to disengage and readjust himself. He smoothed her skirt over her legs. Then, he pivoted and climbed out of the car with her in his arms.

The officer was still looking at the sky. No question he knew exactly what had transpired. Sophie had never done anything so rash. So downright dirty. So against her moral code of what was proper, and what wasn’t. This clearly fell into the latter. So mind-blowing she might have considered another round a few miles up the road.

She glanced up at Caden, expecting a broad smirk. But his lips, still moist from being locked with hers, were pulled into a tight, thin line. So serious. His gaze met hers. So pained, like he’d led her toward a life of crime, or something worse.

He tensed, then set her on her feet next to him.

It felt as if dark, ominous clouds rolled overhead, sending chills up her spine. Caden nodded his head, a slight gesture. What was he telling her?

The officer peered into the car, then gave a low whistle. “This is some set of wheels. Lordy, isn’t this the car from the James Bond flick?”

“Yep. An Aston Martin DB5,” Caden confirmed, his tone completely devoid of emotion.

“Yours?” the officer asked, more curious than with any sense of duty. Sophie could tell by the gleam of admiration in his eyes. At least it took his attention off of what had gone down in the Aston—literally.

“Rental.”

“Didn’t know you could rent a car like this. Next time, I’ll tell the wife a plain ole Mustang won’t do. Can I see the rental paperwork?”

“Sure.” Caden retrieved the rental agreement from the glove box and handed it off to the officer. She should have felt reassured by his presence next to her. The officer was being kind, too. But a sense of dread billowed up within her. She couldn’t breathe. Her throat had dried up quicker than a raindrop on a cactus bloom.

“Who was driving the car?” the officer questioned, as he scanned the documents. “Hard to tell, under the circumstances.”

Caden spoke up. “I was driving. I’m completely responsible.”

The officer shook his head. “Out here, it might be a long spell before you see folk. Still, it’s a risky move performing lewd acts in a vehicle on a public road.”

Lewd?
Sophie gave a mental groan.
What the hell had she been thinking?
If this cop recognized her...
She tucked her chin down, hoping for the best but anticipating the worst.

Caden frowned and shook his head slightly. For a fighter, he seemed to have run out of steam.

“I can always issue a ticket and court appearance. You don’t seem like bad folk—horny perhaps, getting it on in a bucket seat. Need your driver’s licenses.”

Before she could explain how she lacked identification, money...morals...Caden tugged his license out of his expensive leather wallet, and handed it to the officer.

She shot him a questioning look.

He ignored her.

The officer whistled and then grinned. “Caden Kelly? You the mixed martial arts fighter? Headed to Tetnus, huh?”

Caden nodded. Sure the situation was awkward. But he was acting funny—not at all like his sarcastic self. And if any situation ever deserved to be mocked, this was it. Still, Caden seemed to have withdrawn into himself. It gave her the chills.

“The fellas at the station are big MMA fans. See this?” He showed Caden his knuckles. “This is from messing around in one of the guys’ basement. Mimicking your moves—trying to perform a perfect guillotine. Man, why’d you quit like that?”

“It’s a long story,” Caden responded. “If you want to know the details, you’ll have to check out Sophie Morelle’s documentary. She’s gotten an exclusive interview with me, and has all the shit.”

The officer glanced from Caden to her and back to Caden. “Sophie Morelle? Isn’t she that foul-mouthed woman who was thrown off national television because she knocked you out with her camera? That woman looked like she was trouble.”

Ah
,
trouble is standing right in front of you
. Yep, she could tell he was a big fan.

Caden grunted.

“Okay, Caden. I’m going to let you and your female friend off with a verbal warning. Your loose cannon of a brother would have my head if I issued you a ticket.”

Sophie wanted to laugh. That was it, a warning? Caden’s fame—and his
brother
, a cop out here in Nevada? Go figure!—had come to the rescue. She was glad the officer hadn’t connected the dots and recognized her. The infamous Sophie Morelle would have warranted a naughty reporter caught-with-her-skirt-up ticket and a court subsequent court appearance.

She shifted in her heels. Close call. If the boys at her former network—or God forbid, the public—heard what she’d been doing...

Maybe that’s what the dark, invisible cloud of doom was all about?

As the officer scribbled out the warning, he added, “I’m not writing down the details because I’m a big fan of yours, and want to see you win Tetnus.”

The silent man next to her nodded.

The officer continued, “Next time you decide to get it on in the sweetest ride to hit this neck of the desert, make sure you don’t get caught. Heck, man, didn’t you see my lights a mile away? Not like there’s anything else to look at out here.”

“
Next
time, we’ll be more careful, officer.”

Sophie glared at Caden. Great, his humor had been restored.

The officer shot Caden a grin. Subtle male, non-verbal communication—which is to say it was anything but subtle. A silent high-five, acknowledging how he didn’t see anything wrong with a bit of kinky fun out in the Nevada sunshine.

“Think I can get an autograph?”

Caden shook his head and held out his hand as the officer handed him a scrap of paper he’d dug out of his pocket.

A welcome breeze kicked up. Even in the higher elevations, the sun was relentless.

The bit of paper caught the breeze, sailed through the air, and landed a few feet away. The good-natured officer chased after it.

He bent, stooped over, and paused. “Um, Caden. You’ve got a flat over here.”

“Shit,” Caden muttered. Something in the tone of his voice caused a tiny shiver to roll up her spine.

“Pop the trunk and I’ll give you a hand,” the officer continued.

Caden didn’t budge. “You know my brother Bracken’s deal, right?”

The officer frowned, his gaze running from Caden to the trunk. “The best undercover narcotics agent we’ve got. Shame how I.A.’s been giving him such flack for not following protocol. What’s going on, Caden?”

Surely the Aston Martin had a functioning spare tire? Yet, the man next to her was as tense as he’d been earlier, when he’d revealed more than he’d intended about his heartbreaking past.

When she’d realized just how much she’d fallen for him.

Sophie Morelle involved with a mixed martial arts fighter and former Ultimate American Male model. A man who took her breath away with one bat of his eyelashes.

Dang-diggity, she
was
in love with him.

“Let her call a cab, okay? You know how it is, with ladies looking for a quick celebrity ride. I picked her up in Phoenix, her bags are in the back seat. I rented the car, I was driving, I’m responsible for everything,” Caden told the officer, his voice low but clear.

She gasped, but no sound escaped from her tightening throat. Like someone had kicked her in the stomach, then squeezed her esophagus so she couldn’t cry out.

The last time she’d felt like this, the good citizens of Hawley were pressuring her not to testify.

That’s what Caden had just done, pulled a Hawley on her. The...traitor!
A
groupie?
An insignificant fuck out here in the desert?

“I know you’re doing your job. But, in a few seconds, I want your promise that you’ll call my brother. He’ll confirm everything,” she heard him say, his tone hoarse and deadly serious.

At the officer’s nod, Caden headed around to driver’s side, opened the door, and reached in and popped the trunk, the angry noise of the metal lock filling the air.

“Don’t stand there. Call a cab. Have them take you to Vegas,” he told her in an unemotional voice.

“A cab?” she whispered. She felt lightheaded, a sudden case of heatstroke but worse. Her heart was breaking. She hadn’t seen it coming—any of it.

The officer shuffled forward and ducked his head into the trunk. Through the dead silence, she heard the sound of a zipper being unfastened.

Caden quietly moved closer to him, stretched his arms out in front of him, and crossed one wrist over the other.

“Darn gone it!” the officer exclaimed. “Bracken’s bent the rules before, but this beats all. First thing we’re gonna do on the way to the precinct is call him in. If I find out you’re a doper or dealer...”

“She’s good to go, right?”

The officer nodded. “But I’m warning you, you’re gonna be fighting a whole different battle in jail.”

Sophie felt her legs carrying her forward. She looked into the trunk, and gasped. Clear bags of unfamiliar green pills overflowed from an oversized duffel. Her gaze faltered as she spotted several plastic syringes sticking out of the bag as well.

“I take full responsibility. She had no knowledge of this. She’s just a groupie, that’s all.”

No knowledge. No knowledge. The words echoed off the hot asphalt and burned into her head. No knowledge of what? Drugs? In the trunk of the Aston?
Oh.
My.
God
.

The two men moved toward the police car. Sophie was frozen in place. The duffel bag looked familiar, like the bags Jaysin Bouvine...

“For fuck’s sake, Sophie. Call. A. Cab,” she heard Caden shout, his voice sounding so far away, already.

The patrolman pulled out his cell phone, and handed it to her. She looked down at it dumbly. Listening to the officer address Caden. Listening to him addressed the playboy who’d just made love to her, who then chalked it up to a meaningless
fuck
. A man who had drugs stashed in the back of his Aston rental. A man she thought she’d fallen fall, and ended up flat on her face.

The patrolman’s words sounded like a raging wave just at the point when it crests. “Caden Kelly, you better not be lying. Or I promise you’ll be placed under arrest for possession of illegal, performance-enhancing drugs quicker than this sweet car can burn rubber.”