Page 55 of Queen Of WildCards

Onlyaim at something you're prepared to shoot.

Idecided to be liberal with the hair products, taking my sweet time prepping myself for the day.Whenmy locks were tamed into a high ponytail and my face fresh,Istrode from the bathroom likeIwas invincible, untouchable, above the rest of the world, hoping it would dissuadeSpadea bit.

Itdidn't.

Herose from the bed and was at my side in seconds, penning me in against the wall with his hands on either side of my head, his arms like a cage, preventing escape. "Well, don't you look like a breath of fresh air, doc," he taunted, his nose drawing a line from my shoulder to the spot just below my ear. "Smellabso-fucking-lutely divine."

Heshoved off the wall whenIrefused to entertain his toying, like a petulant cat whose mouse had rolled over and played dead.Iwatched him go, confusion twisting the reliefIfelt at his absence.

WhydidIwant him to come back and cage me in again?WasIgoing insane?

"Getsome sensibly sexy shoes on, sugar, and grab some coffee.Theboys will be busy with other things today, so you're coming with me to a match."

Iturned to face him, nothing making a lick of fucking sense. "Excuseme?"

Match?

Whatthe fuck?

"Yeah," he sighed, absently picking his nails with a pocketknife. "I'mpart of a sparring ring, boxers, you know, and we let off some steam with unofficial matches now and again.Goodplace to get information, too," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Especiallyif you've got a pussy between your legs."

Hewanted to use me as an informant.Fuckingfantastic.

"I'mnobody's plaything,Spade,"Istarted, aiming for confident and demanding but missing the mark and hitting every rung on the way down.Ilanded somewhere close to scared and irritated, and he laughed at my bluster. "I'mnot whoreing myself out for information."

Herose and strode past me, shoving the door open with a flourish. "I'dnever whore out my girl for informationIcould just as easily get with my fists."Hiseyes met mine and contained nothing but seriousness. "Let'syou andIgo get some coffee, andI'llexplain on the way to the ring."

Ididn't have a choice, really, soIfollowed behind him, unsure what the day might bring but ready for anything.

Ishould have grabbed the gun.

* * *

Hisgym,as it turned out, was a few boxing rings, anMMAsparring section, and some random punching bags and lifting equipment on the main floor.Buton the basement level, where he led me with a little smirk and a pat on the ass, that's where the real business happened.

Wallto wall, the place was packed with men who clearly wouldn't think twice before cutting your tongue out for an insult.Heassured me none of them would be armed—"house rules"—butIhad severe misgivings over whether these criminals, here for what amounted to an underground fight club, gave two shits about the house rules.

"Spade, are you sure this is a good idea?"Iwhispered in his ear, still a stretch even in the heels he'd plucked from my bag with a smirk on his lips. "Thislooks like a dangerous crowd."

Hisgrin grew wider as he leaned against me and used the need for privacy to yank me closer untilIwas damn near plastered against his front. "So, the doorman who frisked us is a homophobe.Nevergoes near a guy's front pockets if he can avoid it.Ihave a knife on my thigh strap.Ifshit goes bad, not that it will, butif,then you can reach down my pants and pull the blade out."

Iblanched at the realization that he'd managed to find a surefire way to get my hand on his junk, thenIdecided to play ball.

Ifhe could tease and taunt and be slick to get his way, well, then so couldI.

"You'dbetter be careful, tough guy.Ifthat blade moves just a bit too far,Icould cut off a vital part of your anatomy.Sohands better not wander while we're here, orI'llput on a show of a different kind asIgut you and take off."

Hiscock stiffened against my thigh, and he groaned against my temple. "Fuck, doc, you're gonna be the death of me."Heshifted, his length brushing against my core this time, and now we were both a bit frazzled. "Youcan't say things like that to a man unless you're willing to follow through."Ifelt his lips ghost against my ear, and then his teeth nipped at the shell of it gently, eliciting an involuntary moan from me. "Justpromise me you'll make it hurt when you break my heart, sweetheart."

Ididn't have a witty retort, and his eyes wandered over to the ring as the next match came to a bloody and fist-pumping end, the crowd roaring like some wild thing, untamable, unhinged, just like the man at my side.

"Let'sget closer to the action, princess," he quipped, tugging me along like a piece of arm candy as every man we passed stopped to stare.

Atwho,Iwasn't sure.

Wewatched two more matches from the sidelines, his hand constantly wandering to tuck itself in my ass pockets or curl around my ribcage, his thumb brushing against the side of my breast whenever the mood struck him.Onthe third pass,Imoved to swat at him, just as the announcer called out the victor and turned to us.

"Andnow, the fight you've all been waiting to see tonight—the nightly victor and his challenger!"

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