Sneak Attack Read online

  Mia’s gaze never wavered from Evie, though she released her hair. Good thing since Evie’s fisted hands made me think she hadn’t been kidding about trying to snap Mia’s bones. “I’m not finished here, Fox.”

  Yep, she was pissed at me. Whenever she called me by my old fighting name, I knew she intended to put my balls in a sling. Since they were still throbbing thanks to memories of last night, I squeezed her fingers in warning. “Yes, you are. Let’s go.” I tugged Mia with me and spoke over my shoulder. “Ten minutes, Evie.”

  The second the door slammed shut behind us, Mia broke free of my hold. “What the hell was that? ‘Let’s go, Mia.’ ‘Bad Mia.’” She planted the heel of her hand in my chest. She never pulled punches, especially with me. “Who the fuck do you think you are, my daddy?”

  I pushed her up against the wall, caging her with my arms on either side of her head. “No, I’m your goddamned boyfriend, trying to keep you from losing your job.”

  “Let me worry about that. You’ve got other problems right now.”

  “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  “Like this, you fucking bastard.” She reached down and gripped my cock through my pants, twisting so hard that I couldn’t stifle my groan from the pure desire that raced through my veins. “She’s cute, right? All that flowing hair and those pretty little clothes and that flawless makeup. Maybe you want a little tea with your afternoon biscuits.” She leaned in close and spoke right against my ear, her hot breath puffing over my skin. “You think she’ll do you better than me? That anyone can?” Her super strong fingers tightened, working me up and down so roughly that the friction from the fabric singed my flesh.

  Fuck, it felt good.

  “You know what I have on under these pants? Nothing. You left me alone this morning and I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’m so wet. So goddamn wet.” She arched against me and bit my lobe, earning another one of those muffled groans I couldn’t hold back. “I almost just took care of it myself in the shower. But I figured you’d want a shot first.”

  “Want a shot?” I growled the question, proving my earlier self a liar. If anyone could push me past my limits, it was the woman I loved. I kicked her feet apart, widening her stance. “Only one person belongs between these legs. Me. And if you need a fucking reminder, I’ll give it to you right here.”

  “Will you now?” She tilted her head, jaw clicking, eyes firing. Her hand still moved up and down my dick at a speed that had my heartbeat pounding frantically in my ears. “I’d like to see you try.” Her mouth curled in a feral smirk. “Fox.”

  I growled again, past the point of caring who heard. I banded my hand around her upper arm and nudged her toward our joint office, ridiculously relieved it was only a few feet away. I tried the knob, found it unlocked. She must’ve forgotten to lock up. If I’d still had functioning brain cells, I would’ve snarled at that too, but my thoughts revolved around one thing.

  Mia taunting me. Mia, wet. Mia wearing no underwear under those skinny black pants.

  I intended to brand her with my fingerprints before she stumbled out of that office. And stumble she would, because I was going to fuck her raw.

  After shoving her into the darkness, I kicked the door closed. Before she had a chance to speak, I had her sprawled over the desk, ass up. She didn’t wait for me to tell her to spread her legs. She did it for me, tilting upward so that I could yank down her pants with no resistance. My hand dropped to my zipper, my urgency fueled by the way she was moaning for me, arching and digging her bare, unpainted nails over the cheap wood grain.

  Dim light slipped through the slats on the blinds but it was enough for me to see her writhing, already tempting me beyond reason. I wasn’t even inside her yet and my dick was already soaked with pre-come, so painfully hard that one touch of my own hand nearly pushed me over the edge.

  If I didn’t get inside her soon, buried so deep that she was all I could feel, I was going to lose my frigging mind.

  I pushed my cock against her damp, swollen pussy, and I couldn’t restrain the sound in my throat. Ownership. Need. Love. They combined into a crazy mixture that had me driving into her in one brutal stroke, mindless to anything but the relentless squeeze of her flesh around mine.

  Mia and me, the way it should be. Always.

  “You think I was hard for her? For anyone but you? Ever?” Wild thrusts punctuated the questions that burst from my lips. I slammed my hand on her spine, forcing her lower so I could tunnel as deep as I needed to go. She accommodated me, flexing her hips, rotating that hot little ass that could make me come all by itself. “I was thinking about you, last night. Fucking me against the wall, drawing blood down my back. You like doing that, don’t you? Sinking in your claws, just to make sure you can still make me bleed.”

  She whimpered, the ripples of her pussy around my length the closest thing she gave to a reply. But that wasn’t enough for me. Not anymore.

  I slapped her bottom, hard. She cried out, the sound low and needy, and pressed her cheek to the wood. Her eyes were shut, her mouth open as her whimpers slipped free. I waited until her skin bloomed pink enough that I could see it even in the limited light and then I slapped her other cheek, using my palm not to soothe the sting, but to push it deeper into her flesh.

  Maybe we were dysfunctional. Right then I didn’t fucking care. I needed to mark her, she needed to hurt. I was the only one who could make her ache this way. The only one who loved her enough to keep her safe while I gave her pain.

  “God, Tray. Yes.” She scraped her nails over the side of the desk, using her other hand to tug at the front of her top. Her skin flashed in my peripheral vision. Fuck, she’d pulled down her tank and freed her breast from her bra. That taut nipple tormented me, bouncing as I rode her hard. I reached over and claimed my prize, twisting the hot peak between my fingers. “God, I’m going to—”

  “Wait for me.” I used my chin to shove aside the braid at her nape, finally finding flesh. I closed my teeth over the area at the base of her skull that would make her scream and forged even deeper, swiveling so that I rubbed every spot she needed me to rub.

  In this way, at least, I knew her. In every other, she was a mystery wrapped in an enigma covered in barbed wire and glass.

  My heart surged in my chest, its beat frenetic for her. Only for her. She sent the blood crashing through my veins, the heat suffusing my skin. Every part of me tuned to her, inexorably.

  Holy fuck, I loved her.

  My fingers strummed her nipple, alternately soft and abrupt, confusing her senses. Layering need upon need until we were both shaking and sweaty, rocking the desk so hard that I half expected one of the legs to snap. My teeth grazed the back of her neck again and a tendril of her hair caught on my lips. “Now, baby. Now.”

  “Yes. Now. Please.”

  That single word from her was always my undoing. I heard it so rarely. Please.

  I pulled out and pushed deep once more, holding as the pressure in my spine and balls and heart finally exploded in a shout I smothered against her shoulder. She cried out again, still rolling her hips, carrying me away with her as her orgasm barreled through her system, hot and endless. Her pussy pulsed, milking my dick like a fucking champ. I fisted my hand in her hair and dragged her head back, craning my neck until I could cover her mouth with mine and feed her the last air I had left. Sharing that just as I shared everything else.

  She trembled beneath me, a fresh jolt moving through her when I sucked on her lower lip. Her eyes opened, her drowsy gaze fastening on mine. In it I saw everything she didn’t say. It had been weeks since she’d told me she loved me, but I saw the truth shining there, buried so deep that maybe even she’d forgotten.

  One way or another, I had to dig it out of her again. I’d done it before. She’d fallen in love with me against her will, and if I had to hold that will hostage to get what I needed from her, I damn well would. I’d always backed off when I sensed she needed space, not wanting to dredge up anything painful from
her past. But maybe it needed to be dredged. Maybe I needed to take the risk that my chains were exactly what she craved.

  “You made me say I was yours last night.” Her voice vibrated with something dark and hot. Leftover desire, nerves, simple need. “You didn’t return the favor.”

  My hips seemed to move all on their own, driving my softening cock deeper into the recesses of her body. She made a choked sound, like a trapped scream. One I felt duty bound to help her set free.

  “Make me, Mia,” I breathed.

  Challenge lit in her eyes and she slapped a hand on the desk, causing her breast to sway, nipple still tight. Her pussy clasped me so hard that she stole my last remaining breath. Then she kicked me back and pivoted to kneel before me, her hand closing around my happily abused cock. She licked her lips, eyeing it with abject appreciation. Some girls would shy away from tasting themselves on their lover’s flesh. Not Mia. She lapped at the head of my dick with relish, the hungry noises emitting from her throat stoking my briefly sated lust higher.

  I knew how difficult it had once been for her to enjoy this act. That she could—and that I could with her, knowing her past—proved we’d come a long way, even if we still had miles to go.

  “I own this.” Her warm breath bathed my slick skin, soaked with our arousal and from her slippery mouth. Her fingers tightened at the root and she sucked the head, her lips forming a perfect seal as she hummed over my shaft. She moved back long enough to whisper against the tip. “You put it anywhere else and you’ll wish you hadn’t. Got it?”

  In spite of my newly pained condition, I grinned and slid my hand into her wildly messy hair. Messing up Mia was my favorite thing to do. “Actually there are a few other places I’d like to put it.” She tensed and I nudged my knee between her breasts. “There.”

  Her shoulders visibly relaxed and her tongue snaked out again. “Mmm.” Her eyes flashed up to mine and held while she slowly, sinuously licked my cock. God help me, it was a miracle I didn’t blow again, that fast.

  “You have other places it could go too.” I tugged on her hair, drawing her head back so I could thrust gently into her mouth. “Someday when I’m spanking that fine ass, maybe I’ll do more. And you’ll let me. You’ll beg me to.”

  Her only answer was to reach behind me and spank my ass hard as she hauled my dick deeper into her throat. There wasn’t any dark, dirty thing I wanted to do that my girl wasn’t down for. We were matched, right down the line.

  I couldn’t help chuckling even as an inadvertent spasm of my hips nearly sent her tumbling backward. She never let go, lips or hands. Her throat undulated with every long suck.

  Fisting a handful of her braid, I directed her the way I needed, cursing from the decadent pleasure of her throat opening up for me. Groans left me in staccato bursts, and another flex of my pelvis sent her clattering into the desk again. Her mouth never stopped working. Damn, I was so fucking close already.

  Then my gaze zeroed in on the punching bag in the corner.

  And the small hill of sand beneath it.

  5

  Mia

  I didn’t have a ton of confidence in my ability to give head. Sure, I’d done it plenty of times. Other than with Tray, none of those times had ever been anything close to romantic. I wasn’t sure repetition had lent me any skill in that arena, but Tray had never complained.

  Before today, he’d also never pulled out of my mouth when I was doing my best impression of a deep throater and walked away.

  First time for everything, right? Especially bad things. Those particular ones you never forgot.

  “Umm, hi. Wasn’t done yet.” I wiped the back of my hand over my cheek and shifted to watch him stalk across the room. He grabbed his waistband and dragged his pants up his legs, leaving me goggling.

  That was one magnificent butt he’d just hidden from view. The handprint I’d left on the right cheek glowed red, a primal statement. Mine. All mine.

  Take that, Brit bitch.

  “Have you been using this today?” He crouched in front of the heavy bag, running his fingers over the floor.

  I frowned. Guess the BJ wasn’t happening. I’d been enjoying it too. His was the only dick I’d ever wanted in my mouth. The others…

  The others weren’t allowed to intrude. My head was too full already. I had enough trouble keeping Darren out. I’d be damned if I gave an all-access pass to my thoughts to the men I’d sucked off for money in the back of the bar, back when I hadn’t valued my mouth as more than a way to make extra cash.

  Amazing how a year could feel like more than a lifetime.

  “No.” Sighing, I cleaned up with a couple of tissues then tugged up my pants. I pushed my boobs back into place in my sports bra and adjusted my tank. “I worked out in the gym today.” I’d needed to hit an actual body rather than a bag but I kept that part to myself.

  Tray shot a narrow-eyed glance at me over his shoulder. “So I saw.”

  The words he’d used sent a shiver through me. They were too close to I see you.

  Was the caller a reporter on the trail of a story? Some sensation mongerer? Maybe an old deluded fan from my fighting days? I just didn’t know. Waiting for their next contact was making me mental.

  I hadn’t gotten a hang-up call today, which broke the pattern. Perhaps my stalker was moving on. I hadn’t freaked out and run—as I’d done the last time someone had decided to play phone tag with me harassment-style—so it was possible they’d turned their attention elsewhere. I so rarely hoped for anything that maybe the universe would give me a pass this time.

  “Check this out.” Tray spun the bag around, revealing a large tear in the side. It wasn’t immediately visible. At least it hadn’t been to me, and I’d come into the office after I’d arrived two hours ago. He gripped the seam in both hands, holding it open so I could see the breadth of the cut—closer to a slash, possibly from a knife—while more of the bag’s sandy innards spilled onto the floor.

  A fucking knife.

  My vision swam and I stumbled back into the desk, catching my hip hard on the corner. I cried out, more from surprise than pain.

  “Jesus fuck, Mia.” Tray shoved the bag away. He’d taken two steps toward me when the door banged open.

  “Get your hands off her,” Giovanni snapped, falling silent as he took in the scene. Me leaning against the desk, my hair probably all messed up to shit, Tray halfway to me with the damaged bag twisting on its chains behind him. Tray’s shirt was still rolled halfway up his torso and his lips were smeared with my lipstick.

  Whatever Costas thought was happening, clearly wasn’t.

  “Excuse me?” Tray’s voice had gone to pure ice. “I don’t recall inviting you in here, Costas. So get the fuck out.”

  Giovanni held his ground. “I heard slapping as I came up the hall, but I waited until I heard the crash and her crying out before I came in.” He swept his blue-black eyes over me. Coolly assessing. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m f-fine.” Shock made me stutter. Who the hell ever tried to be my savior except Tray?

  I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around my boyfriend doing it, never mind Costas, a man Tray and I had no love for. The fact that I’d willingly sparred with him a short while ago had more to do with right place, right time and my need for a workout than a lessening of my distaste. Nothing could do that. Not even him trying to play hero when he so didn’t need to.

  Tray pulled down his shirt the rest of the way. Good thing since his torso was all scratched to hell from last night. Or a tussle with a wild cat in the underbrush. “Of course she’s fine. What’s your problem? Never heard people fuck before?”

  “Tray.” The protest was halfhearted. I knew this was some kind of male peeing on a tree routine. Since I’d just engaged in one with big blue eyes out front, I couldn’t judge.

  Giovanni crossed his arms over his broad chest. Tattoos rippled up and down his arms, the colorful ink covering every inch of his skin. “It didn’t sound like any freaky s
hit to me. It sounded like someone getting hurt.”

  Tray strode to the window to yank up the blinds, flooding the room with sunlight. “The one who got hurt was me. She slapped my ass, asshole.”

  “You slapped mine first,” I muttered, fighting a grin when Tray shot me the look. The look that said I’d better be quiet.

  I’d listened to that look approximately…never.

  “Yeah, I did. And since you were coming at the time, I didn’t think you minded.” Tray kicked the weight bag, causing the thing to erupt like a damn leather and sand volcano. Grains poured onto the floor, kicking up enough dust to make me sneeze.

  “Sorry.” Tray grabbed the broom and dustpan in the corner and started sweeping up the mess. I sneezed two more times.

  “What the hell?” Giovanni crossed the room, seemingly oblivious to Tray’s glower. For a guy who would’ve been a natural in a Nordic ski calendar with his surfer blond hair and ocean blue eyes, Tray definitely knew how to glare someone into submission.

  If only Giovanni was paying attention.

  “Who did this?” Giovanni demanded, turning to me. Evidently we’d bonded during our sparring session and I’d missed it. Who knew that a guy heaving you over their back would give them the warm fuzzies in your direction?

  Then again, that wasn’t far from how Tray and I had hooked up, so maybe I ought to keep my better moves to myself when fighting with men who weren’t my boyfriend. Just in case high kick action activated a mystery switch in their peen or something.

  “I must not have made myself clear.” Tray cracked his knuckles, loudly. “Get the fuck out of my office before I ram your balls so far up your throat your tonsils get jealous.”

  “Tray, cool it. Unless you want me to take you by the arm and lead you out like you did with me and Little Miss Crumpet.” While I rebraided my hair, I met Giovanni’s gaze. “He didn’t hurt me. And if he had, I would’ve wanted it.” My neck went hot at the admission, but if Tray could be blasé about sex, so could I.