Against the Ropes
Page 19

Homicide, Rampage, and Torment stare at me as if I’ve suddenly grown a second head.
“Women don’t think the same as you.” I use small, simple words so they can understand. “I’ll bet if you asked her to come with you and showed her around, she would love to watch you fight.”
Homicide scratches his head. Rampage grunts. Torment studies me like I’m a delightful curiosity in a zoo.
“Maybe you should ask her to pick you up,” I continue. “People like to know they are needed.”
***
By the time Homicide’s wife arrives to take him home, the gym is almost empty. Rampage and Jake wash down the mats and equipment and then head to the kitchen to have a drink with an impatient Pinkaluscious and her friend, Shayla, otherwise known as Shilla the Killa.
I lock up the first aid room and find Torment and Jimmy on the mats practicing grappling holds. Torment is lying on top of a stuffed leather grapple dummy. Unlike the dummies that resemble a man standing straight, this one has legs curved into a bow shape and arms bent up and over its head. Torment’s hips are between the dummy’s legs, his pelvis pressed against the juncture of the dummy’s thighs.
I have never seen anything as titillating in my life.
“It’s a submission dummy,” Torment says, looking up. “We just got it in. The arms and legs are flexible. It’s very useful for practicing arm bars, chokes, side mounts, and submissions.”
“I’m sure it is,” I murmur. Sweat trickles down my back. I berate myself for my dirty mind. He is practicing a fight position using fight equipment. This is NOT sexual. Not in the least.
Torment talks Jimmy through the position and then slides down the dummy’s body until his head is where his hips used to be.
My breath catches in my throat. My head spins. I grasp one of the ring poles and hold on for dear life.
“Hmmm. It’s not working,” he says to Jimmy.
Really? It’s working pretty good for me. So good, in fact, I need to get home right away.
Jimmy joins him on the mat and they practice a few holds. For some reason watching Torment lie on top of Jimmy isn’t quite as arousing.
Torment wraps his arms around Jimmy’s head and pulls him down. Jimmy struggles and finally slaps the mat. Torment rolls off him.
“I can’t get it,” Jimmy says. “It seemed easy when you had the dummy, but I can’t break that triangle. I need to see it with a real person.” He looks up and catches my gaze. “Hey, Makayla. Can you give us a hand?”
I stiffen and shake my head. “I don’t know anything about grappling. I wouldn’t be any use.”
Torment gives me a wicked grin. “We just need a warm body.”
Oh God, so do I.
He holds out his hand. “Come on. I won’t bite.”
Maybe not. But if he lies on top of me in my current state of arousal, I just might. I make an effort to feign modesty when, really, all I want to do is throw myself into the fray. “No, I don’t think—”
“Please.”
I study his impassive face. He has to know how suggestive the positions are. How he isn’t constantly aroused I don’t know. If I had to spend my evenings sliding over a grapple dummy, I wouldn’t need my Rabbit. Maybe I’ve been single too long.
“You’ll learn something,” he says. His voice takes on the authoritative teaching tone he used with Homicide. “If you understand the positions, you can better understand the injuries.”
Hmmm. Do I want to roll around on the mat with two half-naked, super-fit men? Yes, please!
“Okay, if it will help you out.” I slip off my shoes and kneel on the mat while Torment and Jimmy discuss what to do with me. My pulse pounds so hard I can barely hear them over the rush of blood through my veins. This is sports. It has nothing to do with sex. Sports. Sports. Sports.
Torment puts his hand on my shoulder. “Lie on your back, hands over your head, legs apart.”
Sex.
I lay on the mat just as he explained, and he kneels between my legs. The position leaves me vulnerable, exposed. Shivers of need course down my spine.
Jimmy sits to the side and Torment talks us through the move. He is so damn sexy when he’s teaching. Confident, assured, knowledgeable, and patient. He explains he is going to mount me. Yes! And take a dominant position. Oh, yes! Then, once I have him in a triangle, he’ll show Jimmy how to defend.
My brain fuzzes with lust.
His gaze catches mine. My cheeks flame. For the longest time, he studies me and then his eyes widen, as if he had just seen into my hidden depths—the pounding of my heart, the sheen of sweat on my skin, the wetness between my thighs. His eyes shutter and his jaw tightens.
“Are you okay there?”
Words fail me. “Mmmhmm.”
“Right then. I’m going to mount you now.”
Oh God.
He mounts me.
I bite right through my lip. The sharp tang of blood flows over my tongue.
Torment lies on top of me, his knees pressed tight against my hips, his elbows snug against my ears. I lock his head between my arms the way he explained, tilting it and pressing his face down to my br**sts. His warm, heavy body covers me, holds me, encloses me. His breath is hot on my neck. His hair is soft between my fingers. It is the most erotic experience I have ever had, and from the state of affairs pressed up against my sex, I would venture to say it might rank with Torment’s top experiences too.
He lifts his head and his eyes blaze with sensual fire. “This may not have been the best idea.” His voice is low and husky, thick with need.