Page 11 of Trigger's Temptation

“Tiny, Trigger.” Krimson nods her head at both of us. Nolan doesn’t say a word. He just glares, his usual pissed-off expression firmly in place. I thought we were past this macho bullshit after we helped him rescue his sister, Nadia.

“Krimson, Nolan,” I greet back with the same gesture.

“What are you doing here?” Krimson asks.

“We’re here for the fights,” Tiny responds.

“Hmm…sounds intriguing. Which one of you is fighting tonight?” Krimson’s puckered lips form into a mischievous smile. Her honey-colored eyes bounce between both of us.

Damn, this woman gets me hot and bothered all at once. She oozes sex appeal and danger, a lethal combination. I shift slightly on my bike to adjust the growing problem in my jeans, and Nolan’s eyes narrow in my direction.

I shrug. What can I say? I’m a guy who finds this woman very appealing. I’ll never act on what she does to my body because of the respect I have toward her, but that doesn’t mean my little head will listen to my big head.

“He is.” Tiny points a thick finger at me. I blanch in shock but school my features.

Krimson’s smirk widens as she gives me a slow once-over. “Interesting. I’m curious to see how this plays out.” She steps back into Nolan’s embrace. “We might have to watch.”

“Or maybe join,” Nolan growls, scowling at me like he’d rather be throwing punches than standing here. His face is a mask of unkept rage. Krimson turns around and whispers something in Nolan’s ear. His eyes close with a shudder, and when he opens them, the rage is still there but less calm. Damn, this guy has some major issues.

“It’s up to you. If you think you can handle me in the ring, I’m game.” I shrug my shoulders. No way am I letting Nolan-Fucking-Ryan think he can intimidate me. Even if our Club andKrimson’s gang have a truce, and he is the big brother to Red’s Ol’ Lady, Nadia.

“We have a race to put on. Maybe we’ll see you boys on the inside,” Krimson replies before Nolan can. She grabs his hand, leading him back toward the cars.

Tiny and I stay put on our bikes for a little while, watching Krimson work her magic with the crowd. They listen with rapt attention as she goes over the rules and lines the cars up. She isn’t racing tonight, but the gleam in her honey gaze tells me she wants to. Once Noah collects all the money for the bets, another woman with long dark hair wearing a cheeky skirt barely covering her ass and a tight halter top stands between the two center cars and removes her scarf from her neck. Her tattooed arm raises the scarf high above her head, and when she drops it, the engines roar, tires screeching as the cars take off at breakneck speed.

Watching this unfold has taken my mind off what happened to my sister, but now that it’s over, a flood of emotions overtakes me. Why did something like this happen to my sister, of all people? She’s one of the most caring, sweetest women out there who wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a person. Is she an easy target cause she wears her heart on her sleeve? Can I help make her stronger and more cautious with the time I have with her? Is this my fault for leaving after I got out of jail? A storm brews inside me, and for once, I don’t have the answers.

Tiny checks his phone and tucks it back into his cut. “Come on, it’s time.”

We climb off our bikes and head inside the warehouse. Looking around, there is nothing in here except a few desks and a lot of dust. Our footsteps echo in the empty space. I open my mouth to ask what the fuck, but I trust Tiny to know where we’re going so I snap it shut and follow him.

We descend a metal staircase until the scent of mold and mildew lingers in the dark, chilly air. Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, a single bulb illuminates our way to a steel door.

Tiny pounds on it with his meaty fist, and the door opens. Inside takes my breath away. Men and women crowd around a massive ring under harsh fluorescent light. Two women fight inside with no gloves, no gear, just fists and fury. Blood splatters across the mat, and the more that spills, the wilder the crowd gets.

As I watch the two women go at it, my hands begin to shake, itching to join them and shed my own blood. This is just what I needed to quench the rage pounding inside my chest.

A tall man with dreadlocks approaches us, clasping Tiny’s hand. They exchange words, but I barely hear them because I’m focused on the fight. The woman with short dark hair slams her elbow into the blonde’s nose, sending blood gushing down her face. The blonde wobbles, and her opponent seizes the moment, driving her fist into her jaw. She crumples to the mat. Out cold. The ref stands over her, counting to ten, but the blonde doesn’t get up, so he calls it. The crowd roars.

“Come on,” Tiny shouts in my ear over the roar of the crowd.

I follow him toward the other side of the ring when I spot someone to my left who shouldn’t be here. Aerianna’s long blonde hair is done up in braids on each side of her head, and she’s trying to blend in with the crowd. But her rigid stance and alert eyes are a dead giveaway that she doesn’t belong here.

Tiny’s voice pulls me back. “Watch these two and the next two. The winner of these two rounds will go against each other, and the winner of that round will go against you.” Tiny informs me. “It’s like a round Robin. You fight until you lose, but for you, you fight the winner of all of them.”

Another set of fighters enters the ring as I peel my gaze away from Aerianna to watch with rapt attention, analyzing theirtechniques and skills. The one man has a six-inch spread on the other one. He’s twice the other guy's size. But what the other guy lacks in weight and height, he makes up for in quickness and power. As the shorter guy fends off the bigger guy, he gets in a few hard jabs to the bigger guy's ribs. I notice he is toying with the big guy, tiring him out and giving the spectators a show.

Then I catch the scent of vanilla and steel, drawing my attention away from the bloodbath inside the ring to Aerianna. She’s standing right next to me, watching me. Her striking grey eyes pull me under, and I don’t even stop it. My body reacts instantly, drawn to her warmth like a goddamn magnet.

“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out rough.

“Watching the fights. What are you doing here?” Aerianna teases, a grin tugging at her lips.

“Fighting,” I respond. Our conversation is short, but it doesn’t matter. Words aren’t needed. The air between us hums, charged with something thick and dangerous. Good Lord, the way I’m attracted to her, we don’t need conversation to know each other. It’s the comfortable silence we have together that I love about this.

Our eyes lock onto each other, and for a moment, there is no one else around but her and me. The crowd fades away, Tiny is non-existent, and the fighters are background noise. The palm of my hand lightly traces up Aerianna’s arm, causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin. Aerianna’s breathing grows rapidly, making her chest heave.

We move closer together like magnets until our bodies are touching. My hard muscles against her soft curves. My palm cups the side of her beautiful face, my thumb tracing her soft, full lips. My body reacts to being close to temptation. Not like the Club Bunnies do, but something more. I want this woman with every fiber of my being. My jeans tighten painfully, begging to be released and have his wicked ways with her. The things I want todo to her flip through my head like a porno. The way I want her strong legs wrapped around my waist, her heavy panting in my ear as I drive into her, bringing her to the edge, just to back away and make her whine in protest. The way her sweet taste would feel on my tongue after I nibble and lick each thigh.

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