Cage Match (2 page)

Snake‟s body. His fighter tried to keep up his guard, but the blows were coming in from

every angle.

Then Redbeard made his mistake. He grappled Snake‟s body close in a wrestling

hold, twisted him around, and cast him down. Sand puffed up as Snake hit the ground.

Redbeard took a second to raise his arms and turn in a circle facing the crowd, receiving

applause for his prowess. Then he turned back to his opponent, who was crawling

away across the floor, and ran at him.

“Body slam!” Timon announced.

But as the big man drew himself up for the leap, Snake‟s long leg swept out,

cutting both his legs from under him. Redbeard toppled rather than leaped and missed

his mark. He landed on his face on the ground.

Snake scrambled to his feet and jumped on top of him, driving a knee into his

back. He gripped Redbeard‟s head by the hair and slammed his face into the ground

over and over. Redbeard struggled to knock him off or flip over, but Snake was

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Bonnie Dee

tenacious. He continued to pound the man‟s head into the sand with single-minded

ferocity until he stopped struggling.

Andreas felt sick as he looked at the avid, hungry expressions of the beautiful

people in the cheering crowd. Deep inside the stomach cramp of guilt remained, but at

the same time his pulse pounded. He was as entranced and addicted as everyone else.

He pumped his fist in the air and shouted until he was hoarse.

Down in the arena, the unconscious fighter was placed on a stretcher and taken

away. The promoter raised Snake‟s arm high above his head, declaring him the official

victor, and another roar of approval came from the crowd.

Timon leaned toward Andreas to complain. “You lucky bastard. There was no

way he should‟ve won over Redbeard. Now for the stakes.”

“My sailboat,” Andreas answered promptly. “I want it back detailed and pristine,

the same condition in which you took it.”

“Whoa, boy, you don‟t understand how this game works. The winner doesn‟t get

to say what he‟s won. The loser tells you.”

“That‟s ridiculous! Who‟d give anything valuable?”

“We‟re all stinking rich,” Timon pointed out. “None of us are going to be cheap

about it. The point is to think up something extraordinary the winner would never have

asked for on his own.”

Andreas shook his head but laughed. Timon was nothing if not inventive. If he

ever turned his considerable cleverness to something useful, he could change the world.

“All right then, what have I won?”

His friend‟s slow, evil grin tipped him off that he might not like his prize. “Rule is

you have to accept what you‟ve won no matter what.”

“Oh no, Timon, what are you up to?”

“Something good. Something fun and different. Trust me, you‟ll love it.” He

grabbed Andreas‟s arm and pulled him down the row, bumping people‟s knees as they

went.

This was a small venue, nothing like the stadiums where full-scale battles were

waged for the audience‟s entertainment. Still it took a few minutes to get out of the

stands and reach the stairs leading to the lobby. Behind them the announcer called out

the next pair of warriors‟ statistics while the excited murmur of the crowd swelled

again.

“Your fighter showed mercy. He could‟ve snapped Redbeard‟s neck. No holds

barred in cage fighting,” Timon remarked as he led Andreas across the lobby and

toward the backstage. “Stay here a second.”

Timon trotted ahead, spoke to the man guarding the off-limits area, and handed

him some money before he gestured Andreas over. “Go with this guy. He‟ll take you

down to meet your hero.”

“What? No! I don‟t want—”

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5

“Rules of the bet. You take what you‟ve won, and, my friend, you‟ve won one full

hour to do anything you like with that hard-bodied beast. These guys have all had their

shots, so you don‟t have to worry about catching anything. Just ride him hard and enjoy

that sweaty meat.”

“Timon, no.” Andreas‟s stomach lurched and his mind raced. He knew it was

common for people to pay for the pleasure of having sex with the fighters, but it

seemed wrong on some fundamental level.

Timon grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the guard. “Go on now. My treat.

You can fuck him or sit and talk philosophy with him for all I care, but the meter‟s

running. Go!”

Because his will was weak, his curiosity stoked, and his libido roaring like an old-

fashioned gas engine, Andreas followed the man down the corridor and another flight

of stairs to the next level. His heart beat as fast as if he were about to be put in the arena

himself. What the hell was he going to do with this guy? What could he say?
You looked

really hot out there tonight. I want to fuck you.

The guard stopped in front of a closed door, turned to Andreas, and gazed

through him with bored eyes. “Like your friend said, you have an hour. I‟ll wait out

here. Some like rough games, so I won‟t open the door if you yell. Jabez won‟t hurt you

any more than you want, but if you feel things are getting out of hand or you really

want to end it, call out, „Finished,‟ and I‟ll let you out.”

“Oh.” Andreas‟s mouth was still a round circle of doubt when the man opened the

door and ushered him inside. He drew a deep breath and looked around the rough,

primitive room. Fake stone walls and flickering torches in wall sconces—not real flames

but normal crystal-powered lights—gave the illusion of being in a dungeon. But the

fantasy was blown by the large bed against one wall, its cushioned comfort a contrast to

the rest of the barren cell.

Andreas took all this in with a glance before his gaze settled on the scarred fighter

whom the guard had referred to as Jabez. He stood in the opposite corner, half hidden

in shadow. He was absolutely still. Light played across his nearly naked body,

illuminating hard planes and tawny skin, but the man‟s eyes were hidden beneath the

shadow cast by his brow. Andreas felt him watching but couldn‟t see his expression.

His pulse raced even faster, blood rushing in his ears.

Andreas cleared his throat. “Hello.”

Jabez remained silent and still. Wasn‟t he supposed to set his client at ease, or was

the intimidating tough-guy act part of the mystique the customer paid for?

“You were great out there tonight.”

More silence.

“My friend paid for this. It wasn‟t really my idea. I haven‟t done anything like this

before.” Andreas was embarrassed to hear himself babble like a kid caught shoplifting.

He didn‟t have to explain himself. He was a grown man indulging in a perfectly legal

sex transaction. “You probably do this a lot, huh?”

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Bonnie Dee

“Yeah.” The man‟s voice was low and as rough as the fake granite walls. He

stepped forward at last, and the light struck his face, the contrasting shadows making

the angles even more severe. Blood still trickled from a cut on his cheek and abrasions

on various parts of his body. The heady scent of sweat and blood teased Andreas‟s

nose.

“What do you want? Bet you like it rough.”

It was Andreas‟s turn to be silent. He was speechless. His cock throbbed, so

engorged he felt it might explode in his expensive real-silk briefs.

Jabez continued to move forward, a slow saunter like his approach toward his

enemy in the ring. The closer he got, the bigger he looked. It had been impossible to get

a true reading of his height, the breadth of his shoulders, the power coiled in his

muscles through the image-viewer lens.

He’s going to kill me! Before I can call for help, he’s going to tear my head off
. Terror

pumped adrenaline through Andreas‟s system, and he took a step backward.

At his movement, Jabez struck like the snake Andreas had dubbed him. He seized

Andreas by the throat and pinned him up against the door. He towered over him,

glaring down into his face, his hot breath puffing against his mouth. “Like it a little

scary too, I reckon.”

The man was right. Andreas swallowed beneath the hand gripping his neck,

scared shitless but completely turned on. Every cell in his body felt electrified, alive in a

way he‟d never felt before. It was only adrenaline and lust, yet it felt like more than

that. He could swear some kind of vibration poured from Jabez‟s hand into his body.

Dark spots spun in his vision, not from being choked—the hand on his windpipe

wasn‟t all that crushing—but because he‟d forgotten to breathe. Jabez released his

throat but kept him trapped against the door with the length of his body. Waves of heat

pulsated between them. Jabez gave a little grind with his hips, rubbing against

Andreas‟s erection and making him groan. Andreas closed his eyes and parted his lips,

reaching for a kiss. He felt the heat of the other man‟s breath, moist and close. Any

second now their lips would touch.

Then, just as quickly as he‟d pinned Andreas, the gladiator stepped back and let

him drop onto his feet.

Andreas‟s eyes opened to meet Jabez‟s hard gaze. The man‟s eyes were narrowed,

angry, and Andreas could finally see their color as a shaft of light struck them—blue,

although right now they were so dark they appeared almost black.

“Is that what you want?” The man spat the words like hard pellets.

Shame flooded through him at the tone and the look. Was this the way a client

was supposed to be treated? Jabez was quickly losing any tip he might have earned

from their encounter.

“I told you. My friend paid for it. I didn‟t expect…” Andreas shut his lips tight as

he reminded himself he need make no apology to this man. It was part of his job. “If

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7

you don‟t feel like fucking, that‟s fine.” He made his voice cool and much calmer than

he felt inside.

“Maybe I don‟t.” The big arms crossed over his slab of a chest, and the fighter

resumed his imitation of a statue.

Andreas swept his gaze the length of the man‟s body and noticed his erection

beneath the black fabric of his briefs. Despite his nonchalance, Jabez was aroused from

their encounter too. The knowledge made him feel better, cockier, and a lot less

ashamed. He folded his own arms and stared back.

“I guess it would be a pain to have to have sex with people when you‟re not in the

mood. Part of your job, though, right? You guys get some kind of commission?”

The other man‟s lip curled in scorn, as if he couldn‟t believe the idiocy of the

question. “No, we work off our indenture—unless we die first.”

Andreas frowned. “What are you indentured for?”

Jabez‟s laughter was a harsh, humorless bark. “Whatever trumped-up reason they

can come up with. On this planet it ain‟t too hard to lock a man up for just about

anything.” He dropped his gaze to Andreas‟s pants and changed the subject. “So what

do you want? Blowjob? Fuck? Top or bottom?”

Andreas‟s cock twitched in response to the suggestions, but his brain had emerged

from a lust-induced fog and he was full of questions. “I thought you did the after-fight

visits for a little extra cash on the side. I didn‟t know it wasn‟t your choice.”

“Didn‟t say it isn‟t my choice.” The man‟s eyes seemed to burn through his

trousers like blue lasers, scanning every inch of him. “But I don‟t do it for cash. It‟s

more time off my sentence.”

Andreas considered that. “You‟ll do anyone who comes in here then—man,

woman, it doesn‟t matter?”

“That‟s right.”

“But what‟s your preference? What do
you
like to do?” Andreas could almost feel

the moment when the balance of power shifted. Jabez looked uncomfortable. He didn‟t

like to be questioned.

He reached for the fly of Andreas‟s pants. “You want to fuck or talk the whole

time?”

Andreas pushed his hand away. “Talk. Answer the question. What do you like?”

“Whatever the client wants.” His jaw clenched so hard it bulged. Every muscle in

his powerful body looked as tense as a cat facing a bathtub full of water.

“How do you feel about fighting? Do you hate it or do you get a charge from it?”

He shrugged. “I just do it. Now do you want me to suck you off or what?”

Andreas would‟ve liked nothing better, but he was more intrigued to hear Jabez‟s

answers to his questions. He didn‟t believe the man had no thoughts or feelings about

the things he did. Suddenly, he was determined to know more, and curiosity was more

powerful than his sexual urge.

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Bonnie Dee

“Do they ever rent out your services here? Could someone buy your contract?”

Jabez finally lifted his eyes from Andreas‟s groin to his face. His eyes were wide

except for the droop caused by the scar. “What?”