Two Evils (12 page)

John looked around at the spectators. Some had drifted off back to their workouts. Others were watching them both now, waiting to see if he would take up her challenge. A man off to his left, clearly a bodybuilder and way too interested in Billie for his comfort, muttered “Pussy,” under his breath. It rankled more than it should have because he couldn’t say for sure whether the man was calling him a coward or talking about how much he wanted what Billie had under the gray sweats. Neither was an option he liked.

He stepped closer to her, into her personal space as he had earlier, and watched with pleasure as her breath hitched and her eyes widened. His own drifted down to her glistening cleavage, at which he smiled appreciatively before looking back at her face and saying, “Oh, I assure you that I am, Miss Ryan.”

Billie took a step forward, pressing her breasts into his chest. “
Prove it
,” she challenged with a flick of her eyebrow.

John realized that there really was no backing down. He could only hope that beating the hell out of the long bag had worn her out to the point that she wouldn’t have too much power left to pack into her punches—which meant that he would have the advantage.

Grinning, he took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest, saying, “All right. You’re going to get what you asked for, Billie. But you should ask yourself if you really want what you’re going to get.”

John turned and headed for the boxing ring that took up much of the floor space on the end of the gym opposite the weight machines, stair masters, rowers and treadmills. He heard Billie following and it occurred to him that she was in a position to sucker punch him like she had in his hotel room, but as there were going to be witnesses this time around, maybe she’d do the honorable thing and wait until they were in the ring before she laid into him.

Grabbing the bottom rope, John hauled himself into the squared circle, rolling quickly to his feet and turning to watch as Billie did the same. He rolled his neck to the sides as she jumped in place, a foolish, shit-eating grin on her face. She hadn’t been this jazzed up since the night they met, when apparently she’d known all along he was a fed and had just been flirting with him to try and get a handle on who he was and what he wanted. This time, he felt he had something of an advantage—he was taller, had a longer reach, and would definitely see her coming.

But then, dynamite did come in small packages…

Billie stopped jumping and stood still. “Let’s do this right, shall we?” she said, placing her palms flat on the sides of her legs and bowing. John mimicked the gesture, and then almost before he was straight she came at him.

He blocked the first punch she threw and landed one on her right shoulder. Billie rolled with the impact and performed a sweeping back kick with her right leg. John jumped to avoid it, but she caught him on the way down with a gut punch. Air rushed from his lungs, and he knew instantly that while she wasn’t trying to kill him (so he hoped) she definitely wasn’t pulling her punches.

Very well then
, he thought. If she wasn’t going to hold back, neither would he.

His next move was a jab to the jaw. Billie’s head snapped back, and before she could retaliate John hit her in the stomach. She stumbled back as she doubled over, then suddenly threw herself forward, her head aimed for his midsection. The two of them collided and her arms came around his waist in a vise grip; he was forced to step back as her weight was thrown into his center of gravity. From this position he had a clear view of her shapely ass, and could not resist the impulse to give it a sharp smack.

Cheers rang out from the onlookers. Billie growled, hooking her leg around his and yanking hard. John lost his balance and slammed to the mat with her on top of him. She sprang up to straddle his waist as she had before, though before she could sit upright enough to land a blow, he hooked his arms around her legs and used her momentum against her, sitting up and then throwing her down to the mat as he had been.

“Hmm, now this feels familiar,” he teased, grinning down at her.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she shot back.

Billie then surprised the hell out of him by grabbing his shirt in both hands, pulling him down so their faces were inches apart and lifting her head so she could stick her tongue out to lick his lips. For a moment he was so stunned that he failed to react in time to her swinging her leg up and around the side of his neck, hooking her ankle there and throwing him sideways. He tried to hold onto her as he fell but she scissor kicked him with the leg and rolled in the opposite direction, rising quickly to her feet.

John leapt to his feet as she was charging a second time. He twisted out of the way and planted his foot in her backside, giving her a hard shove. She hit the ropes opposite and pushed off of them, turning sharply to face him.

“What is it with you and my ass all of a sudden? First you smack it, then you kick it—”

“The next thing I’ll do is pull those pants down and lick it,” he taunted back, rhyming his words with hers.

“Oh, John, don’t you know? When a girl’s pants are down, that’s not where his tongue goes.”

Lust, hot and wild, rushed to his groin. “A woman’s has better uses than licking lips.”

“You know what they say, Johnny B. Goode—loose lips sink ships.”

Suddenly the sexual banter was over as quick as it had begun, and they were back to fighting. John didn’t really want to hurt Billie and suspected she didn’t really want to hurt him either—she was just testing him, seeing what he was capable of. But because her attacks were still pretty vicious in spite of her bout with the punching bag, he gave as good as he got.

The crowd in the gym were egging them on, and there were numerous shouts of “Hit him harder!” from Billie’s cheerleaders and at least one “Smack that sweet ass again!” from John’s. Truthfully, in spite of the pain she was inflicting, he was enjoying himself. Billie had definitely earned her reputation, and given her tenacity even in this simple sparring match, there was little doubt in his mind that if she were fighting f
or her life she would win.

They were in another hold again; this time, John had her in a headlock. As she forced her way out of it her footing seemed to go in the opposite direction than the one she wanted them to, and their legs became entangled. As they each tried to reverse the situation they both stepped wrong, causing them to fall to the mat yet again. Their position upon landing—Billie flat on her stomach and John on top of her—elicited loud whistles and catcalls from the peanut gallery.

Both of them were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. For a moment, just wanting to settle his racing heart, John rested his forehead against her temple.

“Had enough of me…kicking your ass yet…Spy Boy?” Billie stuttered.

He chuckled. “I think mine was the foot planted in ass, sweetheart,” he replied.

“And right now there’s something else sticking into it,” she pointed out.

Oh, he was well aware of where and how he was situated on top of her. With just a slight rocking motion he pressed his pelvis down, digging himself into her more. Billie hissed sharply, and John turned his head so that his lips were but a breath above her ear. “Not quite yet,” he said huskily. “But that can be arranged.”

He felt her tremble beneath him. “I don’t like having an audience,” she said softly.

“Then let’s go where we won’t have one.”



He took her to his apartment, a mere three blocks from the gym.

After getting up from the mat, they had silently climbed down and walked into the locker rooms. Billie tried not to think as she changed out of the borrowed clothes and back into her own,
leaving the key to the locker in the door with the chain hanging down as she had found it. She didn’t want logic to get a hold of her right now—she was feeling way too damn good.

And if she were honest with herself, both excited and nervous about what might happen when they left.

She had to admit that John was attractive—certainly not the first attractive man she had encountered in the last year, but he
was
the first one to really turn her head. The first man to make her heartbeat increase, the first to make her wonder what it would be like to go to bed with him. Ever since that damn kiss, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had wondered. On both flights home she had fantasized about him. Last night, back in her old bed at her father’s house, she had dreamed about him. Each time he had made love to her like no one else, bringing her closer and closer to the edge, so very close to those crashing waves of climax that would shake her body to its core.

Unfortunately, each and every time she had been woken before that could happen. But soon, if she really wanted it to, it would become reality.

Billie realized that she
did
want it to. Even now, as they were walking wordlessly out of the gym and around the building to his car, every nerve ending in her body was alive with an energy she hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was a heady sensation that had her feeling a little lightheaded, but very pleasantly so. The anticipation made her more and more anxious, especially in the confines of the Charger.

He drove them into a parking garage for a building that was seven stories high. The garage was all one level, located underneath the structure. Once out of the car he led her over to an elevator, and she was little surprised to see him press the button for the top floor.

Within minutes they were standing in front of apartment 705 and John was inserting a key into the deadbolt. He turned it quickly and pushed the door open wide enough that she could walk past him and enter first. Billie stepped across the threshold, her eyes sweeping the living room and seeing a huge flat-screen television, theater system, and leather furniture. It was very much a single man’s dwelling.

Then she heard the door click shut, heard the snick of the deadbolt as John slid it back into place. Then he stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. They felt warm even through the leather of her jacket.

“If you don’t want to do this, tell me now,” he said, his voice low and thick with want. “I will not… I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Slowly she turned to face him. In his eyes she could see how very much he wanted her, how desperately he was hoping she wouldn’t back out. She also saw that if she did, he would accept her decision. That was why she answered by reaching for his head and bringing it down to hers so that she could kiss him. John’s hands found her hips and pulled her against his groin, already hard and ready for her, as their mouths opened in unison and their tongues danced together.

She moved her hands from his face and slipped them under the sport coat he wore, pushing it off his shoulders. He let her go long enough to shrug it off and loosen his tie, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head. Billie reached for the buttons of his shirt to undo them, but kept fumbling in her efforts to get them through the tiny holes. Frustrated, she grabbed the edges and simply jerked them apart, sending little white buttons flying everywhere. John chuckled as he removed the shirt and then captured her mouth again, using his own hands to push her jacket down her arms. When she was free of it he tossed it blindly toward the couch.

Billie unsnapped her weapon harness from her belt and let it fall to the floor, then reached for the hem of her shirt to draw it over her head. John captured her hands as she was pulling it over her head, her mouth exposed but her eyes still covered, and held them still. He kissed her lazily, deeply, trailing his hot, moist lips along her jaw. He captured her earlobe in his teeth and gave it a little nibble; Billie moaned as liquid spilled from her, soaking her panties. She could feel her clitoris throbbing, aching for him to touch her more intimately. As if knowing what she wanted, he ground himself against her and she moaned again.

His mouth moved to her shoulder, and he kissed and licked along her collar bone toward her throat. Billie could feel her nipples hardening, pressing against the simple cotton of her bra in a bid for his attention. John complied by reaching around her back and unhooking the undergarment. He freed her hands so he could pull it off of her, allowing her to finally discard her shirt as well. For a moment he stood staring at her breasts, eyeing them as though he had just unveiled a great treasure—and then he bent and took her left nipple into his mouth.

A cry of pleasure escaped her and she gripped his shoulders tightly as he laved the nipple, swirling his tongue around it and nibbling the sensitive nub between his teeth. Her breaths came in shallow gasps and her hips began rocking into him. Her skin felt like it was burning, the fire in her blood raging with her need. John stoked it higher still as he switched from her left breast to her right, his hands reaching down to undo her belt and the snap of her jeans. Billie reached for his belt and undid the clasp, pulling it through the loops and causing his gun to fall to the floor. She ignored it, dropping his belt and reaching for the hook of his trousers, undoing the clasp and reaching inside to stroke his erection.

Suddenly he stilled and stood straight. “Let me get a condom from the bathroom.”

She put a finger to his lips. “There’s no need. I got an intra-uterine contraceptive three years ago. Seemed the right thing to do given the nature of my work. It’s good for another two years, so you’ve nothing to worry about.”