Surge: (#7 The Beat and The Pulse) (7 page)

“Fair enough,” he replied with a laugh. “I’m not withdrawing it, though.”

“Harassment is a chargeable offence.”

Raising his glass to his lips, he sipped at his scotch, one stormy eye fixed firmly on me. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was trying to see how far he could push and get away with it. Fighters were all the same with their offence-defense crap. They thought they could take it from the octagon right into the bedroom. I had news for Gabe O’Connell…

“I’m going to challenge Lincoln Hayes for the title,” he declared, shifting my focus from my knickers to business.

I leaned back and studied him. “Why are you telling me this?”

He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth. “Courtesy?”

Yeah, right. “The same courtesy you showed my fighter in the octagon?”

Gabe tilted his head to the side in thought. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

“
Your
fighter,” he said, emphasizing the word
your
.

“So?” I shot back, beginning to feel sick. Maybe I should call it a night.

“Did he do something to hurt you?”

“Who?”

His gaze met mine, and I fixed on Gabe’s stormy gray eyes. They really were striking. Paired with his scruffy beard and tattoos, they almost glowed.

“Dean Hayes,” he replied, not once moving away from me. It was like he was getting closer, or it might’ve been the alcohol distorting my balance.

“Dean Hayes?” I asked, blinking about a million times.

Reaching out, Gabe plucked the glass from my fingers and placed it back onto the bar. “Any man who drives his woman to drink like this doesn’t deserve her.”

“And who deserves me?” I asked, curling my lip. “You?”

He didn’t answer. He just downed the rest of his drink. “You going to the Gala next week?”

“Of course.” I didn’t know what game he was playing, but I wasn’t interested in his theatrics. Not tonight and not ever.

“You got a date?”

I leaned forward and glared at him. “No.”

He just smiled, which enraged me further. “No, you haven’t got a date?”

“No. I don’t need one,” I declared, offended. “I meant no, I don’t want you to take me.”

“Who said I was asking?”

“Ugh!” I exclaimed. “You’re so infuriating!”

Infuriatingly arrogant and sexy. Two traits I was usually fired up by. The fight and the fuck. It was what had fueled Hamish and me through all the on and off again we’d endured and was probably the reason we’d both hung on for so long.

Gabe smirked and stood, holding out his hand. I glanced at his open palm, then back up into his eyes. He was way too calm and collected for my liking.

“Are you going to take it?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I can’t trust you.”

“I’m just making sure you get back to your room safely and don’t wind up sleeping in a stairwell,” he teased, his lips quirking.

Oh damn, his
lips
.

“I’m not drunk,” I complained.

Leaning forward, he whispered, “I won’t tell anyone.”

With a sigh, I placed my hand in his, and he tugged me to my feet. He was just making sure I got back to my room, right?

Gabe couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off his face as he led me to the elevator. On the ride up, he kept glancing at me, and I kept inching away until I was squashed in the corner. When we arrived at my floor, I weaved around him and strode down the hall, wobbling slightly in my six-inch heels.

“This is my room,” I declared, standing beside my door.

He didn’t respond straight away, so I stared at him. I studied his face, his tattoos, and his lips. Especially his lips.

He turned, smirking as he caught me staring.

“Josie,” he murmured, stepping closer.

“Gabe,” I replied, beginning to feel hot under the collar.

I raised my hand and played with the button on my blouse, the one below my cleavage, and everything began to tingle. Tingling was bad.

“I’m all up for a revenge fuck,” he teased, his gaze dropping to my breasts, which I’d accidentally been flashing him with.

“I don’t think…” I faltered even though everything inside me began to clench at his blatant proposal.

“It’d be the perfect revenge.”

Before I could comprehend his offer, his mouth closed over mine and we fell back against the door, his hands burying into my hair. I needed to feel a man’s touch so bad. I parted my lips and let his tongue twine with mine. My hands had a mind of their own as they roamed over his body. I ran my palms under his shirt, feeling the hard ridges of muscle in his back, and the movement coaxed him to press harder against me. He thrust his thigh between my legs, forcing them to part as he began to grind against my clit.

A sharp pulse of pleasure rolled through my body, making me moan into his mouth, and he took me deeper. He kissed exactly like he fought.
Brutally
.

God, this was what I wanted with Dean. This was how I’d imagined it would be with him yesterday in the gym when I finally worked up the courage to address my feelings. I had envisioned fireworks and a dirty little romp on the gym mats as the sun rose, not fleeing to Melbourne with a broken heart.

Shit, I shouldn’t be kissing Gabe O’Connell. He’d beaten Dean in the octagon. He was the bad guy. The rival. I was crossing brands into enemy territory. This was a betrayal. I shouldn’t be… But he was so good with his mouth, so imagine what he could do with his…

“No,” I rasped, tearing my mouth away from his.

“You can feel it, right?” Gabe murmured, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “How good it could be?”

My body shuddered against his at the thought. I knew he was right. Sex with Gabe O’Connell would be mind-blowing because he obviously knew where to put it and how, but my heart wouldn’t be in it. I’d just be scratching an itch created by another man.

“I can’t,” I said breathlessly, pushing my palms against his chest.

He stepped back, breaking contact, and my gaze dropped to his crotch where a very impressive erection was pressing against his trousers, begging to be freed.

“You sure?” he asked with a smirk. “You look hungry.”

His words slapped me around the face, and suddenly, my mind was clear. The proverbial ice water had doused my body, and I shuddered as I realized what I’d almost done.

Fumbling for my key card, I yanked it out of my pocket and shoved it into the lock. It flashed green, and I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

Gabe stepped forward, thinking I was desperate to get inside and rip his pants off, but I slammed the door in his face before he could even get close.

“Oh, c’mon!” he exclaimed, his voice muffled. A second later, his fist pounded against the door.

Ignoring him, I shoved into the bathroom and turned on the shower, twisting the taps as far as they would go. Steam began to billow into the little room as I kicked off my heels and stripped out of my clothes, dumping them without a care. The water and grime on the floor would probably ruin my expensive silk blouse, but I didn’t give a stuff.

Stepping under the shower, I twisted the cap off the bottled hotel soap and began to lather up a face washer. I was such an idiot. I was so stupid even the dictionary didn’t have a word to describe the level of dumb I’d been tonight. First Hamish, a good guy who I just needed to leave alone to move on with his life, then Gabe O’Connell. GABE O’CONNELL. I was certifiably fucked in the head.

Emptying the little bottle of soap, I slapped the face washer against my skin and began to scrub myself clean.

Dean couldn’t find out. If he knew, he wouldn’t want me around anymore. I’d almost fallen into bed with the guy he’d tried to protect me from. I’d let the slimy asshole shove his tongue down my throat. That was the ultimate betrayal.

No one could ever know.

No one.

Ever.

T
he weekend went by
, and my phone was silent.

I think I called Josie about twenty times and left just as many messages like a needy bastard.

I was that worked up about a particular missing blonde I didn’t even bother going to the Friday night fights at the arena. Josie left me reeling out of control at the gym, and I knew I’d hurt her, but her proposition was out in left field, and I hadn’t seen it coming at all.

Seriously, I was a guy. I thought about a lot of inappropriate things, but Josie… I didn’t know. She wasn’t like anyone else I knew.

The one thing I did understand in a sea of shit I didn’t was I’d made a mistake the other morning. I was holding onto false hope with Monica, and I had to let go. I didn’t want her. I wanted the idea of her. It was hammered into my head over and over, but it wasn’t driven home until Josie sat in my lap and showed me her true feelings.

I either had to make things right with her or take a leap into the unknown. It would be hard, and I’d fuck up all the time, but the more I thought about it, the more desperate I was to jump.

When Josie finally turned up at the gym on Monday morning, I was alone.

I was running full tilt on the treadmill, my gaze studying the approaching thunderstorm over the ocean as I tried to focus on something other than where she was and who she was doing all weekend. Every now and then, a bolt of lightning would race across the surface of the massive cloud, the after image burning into my vision. The storms around here were crackers—wild and unrelenting. Exactly like Josie Cunningham.

She strode in, her head held high, and made her way across to the little room we’d set aside for her office. It was hers to do whatever she wanted with, and she’d instantly made it into a fighter-free zone. Every time I went in there, it was like I was stepping into another world.

Today I didn’t even feel the difference as I jumped straight off the treadmill and followed her in. I was definitely not in the mood for playing around anymore.

Closing the door, we were alone in the tiny space, my size filling it to the brim. Her back was to me, but she knew I was standing behind her because her shoulders tensed.

My breathing was shallow from my run, and I could feel a bead of sweat trickling down my spine, dampening the AUFC tank I was wearing. The air was a little tense for my liking, but all I could feel in the room was her and how my presence had altered her stature. I couldn’t even see the view of the ocean and the brewing storm clouds behind her in the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The otherworldly hue of the thunderstorm haloed her, making her blonde hair shine like gold.

I understood it now. Why she took that chance the other day.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” I said, watching her movements.

She shrugged, making a show of sliding off her jacket and laying it across the back of her chair.

“
Josie
.”

She sighed, staring at the floor for a long moment before she turned and glanced up. Her blue eyes met mine, and I wasn’t sure what I saw in them, but I knew I didn’t like it.

“Why did you go?” I asked.

“I needed to get away,” she replied, edging around the desk, so it was between us. A shield.

“You didn’t need to run, Jo,” I murmured.

“Who said I was running?” she snapped, beginning to fire up exactly like the Josie I knew. “I needed a break. It was long overdue.”

“You left without telling anyone,” I argued. “Right after…”

Her eyes narrowed in warning, but I didn’t care. I knew her well enough to know she’d never talk to me about it unless I forced it out of her. I didn’t know whose stubborn pride was worse. Hers or mine.

“Right after you tried to kiss me,” I declared, stepping closer.

“So?” she asked. “You made yourself perfectly clear. I got over it.”

I snorted. “You got over it? In three days?” The fire in her eyes told a different story.

“It was probably for the best,” she said awkwardly, smoothing her palms over her hips. She was straightening her top, but the movement looked fascinatingly sexual to me. Her gaze met mine again. “Conflict of interest.”

Was it a conflict of interest that I’d done nothing but worry about her for the last three days? Was it a conflict of interest that I’d kicked myself time and time again for not kissing her when I had the chance? Was it a conflict of interest that I’d jerked off thinking about her? Fuck the line of professionalism. She’d opened my eyes, and I’d stuffed up already.

“Jo,” I murmured, closing the distance between us. “I’m sorry. I didn’t handle it well. You said it yourself. I’m fucking stupid. I don’t know how to do this shit.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” she said stiffly. “I took a risk, and it didn’t pay off. That’s life. It happens all the time.”

I raised my hand to touch her, to pull her back from whatever conclusion she’d jumped to, but she took a step back. Then I took a step forward, my gaze flickering to her mouth. My dick began to thicken as her tongue darted out and ran along her bottom lip, the motion punctuated by her teeth dragging against her damp skin.

“Jo…”

She shook her head, her eyes pleading. Did she want me to take her because I would…right against the window, or did she want me to stop?

“Tell me what you want,” I murmured.

“I…”

I was a hair’s breadth from finishing what she’d started the other morning when her mobile phone started to ring shrilly in the silence.

Josie snapped to attention, and I moved away, whatever was about to happen dissipating as the storm broke over the beach below. Rain pounded over the sand in waves until it doused the city around us, thumping against the glass.

“This can’t…” she began, picking up her phone and checking the screen.

I scowled, fisting my hand through my rumpled hair. “If you say so.”

“Dean…” The phone stopped ringing, and she sighed, sliding it back onto the desk.

“You’re telling me you didn’t feel that?” I asked, jabbing a finger in the air between us.

“It’s probably for the best,” she said. “What happened the other morning was a lapse in judgment.”

“Which I seem to have all the time, apparently.”

“It’s for the best,” she added, ignoring my self-absorbed barb.

Snorting at the irony of the entire situation, I stormed out into the gym, slamming her office door closed behind me. The sound was echoed by a crash of thunder right above the building, the shock wave making the windows rattle.

Grabbing a set of dumbbells, I sat on the bench facing the view of the storm, placed my right elbow on my knee, and began lifting. Lightning raced across the sky as my frustration grew, doing nothing but supercharging my need to fuck Josie up against the window.

The outside door opened, letting in a blast of damp air, and my brother appeared, looking like a drowned rat.

“Hey,” Linc said, his tone way too cheery after the scene that had played out in Josie’s office.

I grunted and switched to my left arm.

“What’s up your ass?” he asked. “You got a feather up there tickling your balls or something?”

“Jo’s back,” I said, nodding toward the far corner where I knew she was sitting, probably cursing the day the egg split in my mother’s womb and created two of us.

Lincoln groaned and slapped me on the back of the head. “Don’t tell me you’ve pissed her off already?”

“She left without telling anyone,” I replied. “I was worried about her. Turned out she didn’t need worrying over.”

“Wow.” His mouth fell open.

“Shut the hell up,” I snapped. “You tell me to take more notice and I still fuck it up. I’m just keeping my mouth shut from now on.
It’s for the best
.” I echoed Josie’s words and felt the bile burn the back of my throat.

I could still feel him lingering beside me, and I knew he was about to ask another dumb question.

“What’s going on with you two?”

I ground my teeth together, focusing on my repetitions. There was no way in hell I was telling him or anybody about what happened the other morning.
Josie in my lap, grinding against my hard-on, her lips brushing against mine…
That moment was between Jo and me. No one else.

“I was trying to make good,” I replied. “Turned out the only thing I needed to do was tone down the inappropriate public appearances.”

He laughed and backed away toward the little kitchenette. “Well, keep it in mind. I know you’re still sore about the fight.”

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the dumbbells. I hadn’t thought much about Gabe O’Connell in the past few days. Not since Josie did a runner. Now that Linc had brought it back up, it began to sting my pride more than ever.

I’d lost to the man who tried to poach Josie away from us. From me. The asshole had said some nasty things about her in the octagon, and I wondered if he was going to follow through and try to seduce her to his side. I sure as fuck hadn’t done much to help tilt the situation in my favor. Not even confronting her had changed anything.

Did I want to let her go like this? Wasn’t the more part all about a different kind of fighting?

I’d seen Linc go through it with Violet. He’d almost missed out on his title fight going after her when that Andrea chick tried to throw herself at him. Fighting was his entire life, same as mine, but he’d risked everything for Vee. Later, he’d told me he didn’t give a stuff if he lived in a cardboard box on the street as long as he had her. Deep down, I wanted to know what it felt like. To love somebody.

If I truly wanted Josie like Linc wanted Vee, then I had to fight.

Did I want her enough to risk losing her for good? I stared out over the ocean, my mind mulling over the ultimate question. The storm had cleared out as fast as it had appeared, the sky brightening with patches of blue. The water was still whipped up into a frenzy, and the surfers crowded the breaks down on the beach, fighting for a ride in the perfect conditions.

Yeah, I wanted to risk it.

I had a real chance with Josie. Something was there, I could feel it all around, and I didn’t want to let it go without trying to figure out if it was forever, but the problem was trying to make her see that I was genuine. That I was serious and not fucking around.

Josie was all about grand gestures. If I was going to make a play for her, it had to be at the Gala on Saturday.

Women loved fairy tales, right? She loved dressing up and dancing. She’d tried to make me dance at Ash and Ren’s wedding the other week, laughing at the panic on my face. It was right after I had found her upset in the house, reeling over breaking up with Hamish. She’d wanted to dance with me. I should’ve seen it then, but Monica Miller had shown up and split my focus.

Bloody hell
.

If I wanted Josie to see I was serious about this, I had to make the Gala her ultimate fairy tale…

Or die trying.