Page 44 of Fighting the Darkness

Wilder rips himself away from the ref and stomps from the cage. He punches the cage as he exits before heading toward the locker rooms.

Glancing up at Griffin, he nods and waves for me to follow him. Without a moment’s hesitation, I take off at a run to follow him. The crowd doesn’t part for me like it does the fighters, but I work through them as quickly as I can. When I reach the doors to the locker rooms, the guard stops me for a moment but seems to recognize me. He opens the door, and I dart inside.

Pushing into the locker room, I pray that there aren’t any naked fighters in here since I know I’ll have to actually look down each aisle in my search for Wilder. Luck seems to be on my side as there’s no one in any of the aisles until I reach the back one that I’d seen both Griffin and Soren emerge from earlier in the evening.

Wilder is sitting on the bench with his head in his hands, frustration and anger rolling off of him in waves.

“Wilder?”

His head snaps up, his jaw clenches when he sees me before dropping his head in his hands once more. “You can’t be in here right now, Freya.”

Well, that hurts. Pulling up my metaphorical big girl panties and walk over to him, dropping to my knees. I reach out slowly, placing a hand on his knees.

“You looked really upset, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Jesus fuck, Freya!” Wilder yells, jumping to his feet. I fall backward onto my ass as Wilder begins pacing back and forth in front of me. “Why can’t you just listen? I need you to not be here right now.”

Ouch.

Forcing myself to my feet, I fight the tears. “So tonight was all just an act? You were just pretending to want me around? For what reason? What was the point if you were just going to go back to being a dickhead to me again?”

Wilder visibly flinches, stopping his pacing to meet my eyes. “That’s not what this is about, Freya. You don’t understand. There’s always a lot of adrenaline after a fight, but after losing? I need a way to get out the frustration and the adrenaline. I can’t do that with you here.”

“Why not?”

Wilder sighs, running a hand angrily over his face. “Because I need to fuck it out of my system, Freya. I’m not really sure that’s something you want to watch.”

Oh.

That was not what I was expecting to come out of his mouth. But he’s right—I don’t want to watch him fuck someone else. I want him to fuck me.

Straightening my shoulders, I wait until he meets my eyes once more before telling him, “I’m here. Fuck me.”

Wilder stares at me, unblinking for a moment, before he shakes his head. “I’m not going to use you like some groupie whore.”

“What if I want you to?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.” Wilder’s voice sounds strained, and he won’t look at me.

I force myself to walk over to him, placing my hand on his bare chest. “I know exactly what I’m asking for, Wilder. I’m a big girl. I know what I want, and right now, that’s you.”

Wilder only hesitates for a moment before reaching down to yank Griffin’s shirt over my head. Then his lips are on mine, and it’s so much better than I could have imagined. There’s nothing gentle about this kiss or his touch as his hands roam over my body. No, this is anger, frustration, and desire all rolled up into an aggressive dance between the two of us.

I bite down on his bottom lip, and he hisses into our kiss.

“You’re wearing too many fucking clothes,” he pants, leaning his forehead against mine. “How the hell do I get this thing off you?”

I reach up, pushing one strap and then the other over my shoulders until my arms fall free. The jumpsuit pools at my feet, leaving me in my matching bra and panties—thank goodness for small miracles.

Wilder pulls back, eyes roving over my newly revealed skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before crashing his lips on my mine once more.

His nimble fingers slip behind me, making quick work of my bra before practically ripping it from my body. Wrapping one arm around my waist, he leads me backward until my back hits the lockers. Only then does he pull back from our kiss, his eyes immediately falling to my bare breasts.

I know I should feel self-conscious of my body as I know I’m still underweight and I lost most of my curves along with the weight, but he looks at me with such reverence. Both of his hands come up to my breasts, squeezing them as he groans.

“These tits have driven me crazy for years with the way you seemed allergic to wearing a bra. Fuck.” He dives forward, sucking a nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue across it as he rolls the other between his fingers.

My heart stutters at his words. He’s been watching me all these years? Why? And how the hell didn’t I know it?

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