Caged

  Molly held her next yawn until Presley was gone.

  • • •

  AFTER work she headed to the dojo and managed to catch both Katie Gardiner, who ran the Black and Blue Promotions arm of Black Arts, and Sophia “Fee” Curacao, a Brazilian jujitsu instructor, an MMA fighter, as well as Blue’s sister, upstairs in the Black and Blue Promotions office.

  Beautiful blond Katie crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “My god. You are disgustingly well laid.”

  Fee smacked Katie on the arm. “Shut it. Jealousy gives you wrinkles.”

  “Ouch! Don’t do that, Fee. You’re a like a fourth-degree black belt; I’m a delicate flower and you hit like a man.”

  “You deserved it. Be happy for our friend.”

  “I am happy, but I’m still going to pout.”

  “I think your Botox injections prevent that, K.” Then Fee waggled her eyebrows at Molly. “Hooking up with Deacon regularly has put a satisfied look in your eyes.”

  “Umm . . . thank you for noticing?” Molly said.

  “Hard not to,” Katie complained. “I need a man who makes my whole damn body glow like that. It’s been ages since I bumped uglies with a dude.”

  “Maybe because you call sex bumping uglies? Anyway, it hasn’t been ages, ho-bag.” Fee tilted her head at her BFF, Katie. “Didn’t you and Ivan break your mattress last month?”

  “Shh,” Katie hissed. “Ronin and Blue would ream us both if they found out.”

  “Why? There’s not a ‘no fraternization’ policy at Black Arts, is there?” Molly asked.

  Katie shook her head. “Between an instructor and a student like you and Deacon? No. But people might think I’m giving Ivan more press time and coverage if it’s discovered he’s giving me the Russian salami.”

  “Seriously, Katie, what is wrong with you?” Fee demanded, her voice escalating. “The Russian salami?”

  “The what?” Blue asked as he strolled in and grabbed a folder off Katie’s desk. “Did you say Russian salami?”

  “Yes, we were talking about sandwiches,” Katie lied with a straight face.

  “If you’re making a sandwich run, I’ll try a Russian salami.” He tossed out, “Make sure it’s twelve inches,” before he left the room.

  Molly laughed so hard she feared she might’ve wet her pants. All she had to do was look at Katie clutching her belly and Fee wiping her eyes and they dissolved into laughter again.

  “Thanks a lot,” Fee grumbled. “Now I’ll have my brother asking me if I ever got that twelve-inch Russian salami for him.”

  “I guarantee Ivan’s twelve-inch Russian salami is a lot harder to get in your mouth than out of it.”

  Molly reached over and stopped Fee from whacking Katie again. But she couldn’t help asking, “You’re kidding about twelve inches, right?”

  “Ivan is a big guy all over. But his Rasputin is closer to ten inches.”

  “Can we be done talking about cocks now and find out why Molly is here?” Fee asked. “What brings you by?”

  “Do either of you have plans Saturday?”

  Katie clapped her hands. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Guess whose birthday it is?”

  “Yours?” Molly said dryly.

  “Ask Fee what she’s got planned,” Katie said smugly.

  “You bitch! The party was supposed to be a surprise!” Fee’s shoulders slumped. “You suck. Now you’ll just have to go to Dave and Buster’s like everyone else over twenty-five does on their birthday.”

  Molly choked and tried to pass it off as a cough.

  Katie eyed her suspiciously before she refocused on Fee. “You can still have a party for me. You were being stealthy, Fifi, I promise. I just overheard you talking to Jaz.”

  “Jaz knew about this surprise party before I did?” Molly demanded of Fee. Jaz was the new black belt instructor that Sensei Black had hired six months ago. No one knew too much about her. She mostly kept to herself. Apparently Fee had broken the ice with her, which was good. Molly remembered what it felt like to be on the outside looking in.

  “I was gonna call you this week, okay? I only decided to do this yesterday. Jaz offered to help.” Fee sighed. “I’ll need all the help I can get so the princess isn’t disappointed.”

  “I will need to add a few people to your guest list,” Katie said, grabbing a pen.

  “Fine, but you aren’t planning this,” Fee warned. “I am.”

  “While I’ll be happy to help you celebrate, Katie, I was really looking forward to girl time.”

  “It has been a while,” Fee said. “But your lack of girl time is self-inflicted. You’ve been holed up with Deacon.”

  “She means with Deacon filling your holes,” Katie said with a rowr.

  “Presley mentioned the same thing. Only not so crudely.”

  Katie tapped her pen on her desk. “We’ll do that the weekend after the fight. Shopping, food, drinks, then hitting someplace for kinky fun. I suppose I have to be budget conscious when making the plan?”

  “Since it’ll be me, Fee, and Presley? Yes. So it’s three slim wallets against one fat one, moneybags.”

  “You have to admit I am getting better at the budgeting thing,” Katie said to Fee, buffing her perfect manicure on her silk shirt.

  Fee snorted. “You spent fifty-eight hundred dollars on a pair of leather pants last month. Your idea of budgeting was not buying the twenty-seven-hundred-dollar matching vest.”

  “Hey! Denial of self-gratification counts as budgeting for me. But luckily for you, I am equally adept at sussing out cheap thrills for us.”

  “Cool. Text me the details about the princess’s partay, Fee. Later.”

  Molly took the stairs and ran into Deacon.

  Immediately he hooked an arm around her waist and his mouth landed on hers. His lips and tongue were cool, but his mouth heated up as the kiss became urgent. As if holding her and kissing her was exactly what he needed.

  The post-workout musk of Deacon’s body filled her lungs with a giddy sense of possession. Now she knew his scent intimately. His taste was addictive, the hint of salt from his sweat, the underlying sweetness of the protein bars he ate all day, and the dark flavor of the man himself that no mints or gum could mask.

  He kissed her harder, pulling her closer. His happiness had shifted into hunger.

  Molly found her back against the cement wall and one hundred and eighty-five pounds of turned-on fighter grinding against her. And like always, when faced with his passion, she melted into him.

  Deacon shifted until he could fit the upper section of his thigh between hers. He slowed the kiss and moved his mouth to her ear. “I’ve had a shit day. And I was thinking . . . I can’t wait to see my woman.” His breath left his mouth in ragged bursts of air. “Can’t wait to touch her. Can’t wait to slide inside her deep. Can’t wait to lose myself in her. Gotta be fate or karma or something. I was thinking of you, babe, and here you are.”

  She released a little squeak when he nipped her neck.

  “Fuck, I love that noise.” Then he heaved himself away from her and grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace more private,” he said as he started up the stairs. When they reached the fourth floor, Deacon swiped the ID/keycard he wore on a lanyard around his neck down the lock. The green light flashed and he pushed the door open.

  The training area was eerily quiet. Every time she’d been up here, the sounds of striking echoed from corner to corner.

  Deacon towed her around a curtain used to divide the spaces and into a small area that resembled a study room in a library. Blue light spilled across the lone table from the emergency light in the corner.

  As soon as he shut the door, he was on her. Devouring her mouth, one hand clamped on her ass, the other freeing the buttons on her blouse. His frantic kisses made it impossible for her to catch her breath.

  Molly put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him back to break the seal o
f their mouths. “Deacon,” she whispered against his lips.

  He buried his face in her neck. “I need you like this.”

  His desperation inflamed her. Later she’d worry about what in his day had gotten him to this point. “How naked are we getting?”

  He tugged his muscle shirt over his head. He kissed her wildly as he unbuttoned her blouse and freed her breasts. Then, after he slid his hands under her skirt to remove her panties, he growled, “This is all I’ve got patience for.” He pushed her backward until her butt connected with the table.

  Deacon didn’t have to direct her; she knew what he wanted. She shifted one buttock onto the table and then the other. Her skirt rode up and Deacon’s hands were shoving the material out of the way, baring her pussy to him.

  His fingers teased the insides of her thighs, making her tremble, making her ache for a more complete touch. He used the little things he’d learned about her shamelessly and constantly found new ways to drive her crazy.

  After a lip-tingling kiss, he dragged his mouth down the side of her throat. Once his wandering hands reached the juncture of her thighs, he drew his knuckle through her wetness. His low-pitched hum reverberated against the upper swell of her breast as he lowered her down.

  When Molly’s head fell back, her hair spilled over the edges of the table. The hot fire of his mouth engulfed her nipple as his cock breached her body.

  She arched into him. Yes. So good. Every time.

  Deacon held on to her hips as he started to power up. The long, slow glide gave way to harder thrusts. He moved his mouth back and forth across her nipples, nipping with his teeth and sucking hard, then switching to achingly soft kisses and rubbing the scruff on his cheeks over the mounds of flesh as he pounded into her.

  Sometimes he talked when he fucked her, whispering dirty words, sweet words, nonsensical words. She loved that. But his mouth worshipping her breasts needed no words. Although they were alone in the vast space, remaining quiet as they surrendered to the driving need heightened the fervor.

  The legs on the table creaked as Deacon’s damp, muscled body ground down on hers with every dedicated thrust.

  With one hand curled around the nape of his neck, she flung her other arm above her head, her fingers clamping to the edge of the table to keep from sliding off. Her body was a live wire, electrified by the sucking pressure of his mouth. His firm grip on her hips kept her from thrashing, reminding her that he was in control.

  More. Please. I need . . .

  As if he’d read her mind, his rough-skinned hand moved across her belly and down her slit to where they were joined. Then his thumb, wet with her juices, circled her clit in the same pattern as his tongue on her nipple.

  So close. She whimpered and canted her hips.

  Deacon didn’t miss a stroke as he spread her legs wider, giving her the friction she needed. “You’re there. Give it to me.”

  The orgasm ricocheted through her—a hot detonation that throbbed with such force she swore her eyeballs pulsed. Her body was so revved up she couldn’t slump back and bask.

  Then Deacon buried his face in her neck, pumping his hips fast. She felt the heat of his release, her spasming walls milking him as he came in a drawn-out groan.

  Sometimes Deacon immediately pulled out and brought her tissues to clean herself up. But today she silently begged him to stay put, needing this connection with him as long as possible.

  • • •

  “MOLLY.”

  “Mmm?”

  “Babe. You gotta let go of me.”

  “But I don’t wanna,” she murmured. “I like your weight on me.” She rubbed her lips over the stubble on his cheek. “I like the stickiness between my legs. I like feeling you soften inside me, knowing if I did this”—she squeezed her pussy muscles around his semihard cock—“you’d get hard and fuck me again.”

  “Don’t tempt me, woman. We’re damn lucky we didn’t get caught.” What the hell had he been thinking, rutting on her in the dojo like a crazed man?

  Because you are crazy about her, man. Beyond crazy, heading straight into those three-little-words territory, which is completely new fucking territory for you.

  He fit his mouth to hers and kissed her, slowly easing out of her body and then laughing as she tried to hold on to him and keep him on her and in her.

  “At least I know you were happy to see me,” he murmured.

  “Very happy. As always.”

  He’d been in a lousy mood since first thing this morning when Maddox pushed him to work Courey—meaning he’d been relegated to chump again. Holding the mitts while Courey tried to pummel him.

  Luckily—maybe unluckily—Deacon had left his phone on, in the training room, during practice—a strict violation of practice and not intentional on his part—but the phone call from his cousin Tag served as an excuse to leave the dojo. He’d mumbled something about “family shit” and no one had questioned him because they all were aware Deacon never made excuses not to train and he never talked about his family.

  By the time he’d finished dealing with Tag, he’d been pissed off for real and wished Courey hadn’t bailed for the day because he could’ve used him to work out his frustrations.

  The last thing he needed was Tag showing up in Denver. The fucker had resorted to threats to force the dinner meeting, so Deacon had to ask Beck to sub for him tomorrow night.

  Then he’d seen Ronin talking to Shihan. Deacon knew Sensei was questioning whether it’d been a waste of time to add Deacon back into the teaching rotation when he bowed out again within the first two weeks.

  Realizing he’d zoned out, he refocused on Molly buttoning her blouse.

  “You’re staring at my boobs again. Didn’t you get enough of them?”

  “Never.” He reached down to snag her panties. After he handed them over, she used them to wipe between her legs. Then she wadded up the blue silk and stuffed them in her purse.

  “What? My panties were soaked anyway. I’d rather go commando than wear wet panties.”

  Deacon hauled her against him and kissed the hell out of her.

  When they broke free, Molly said, “What was that for?”

  “For you being the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

  Her brown eyes softened. “Deacon.”

  He plucked her panties from her purse and shoved them in his pocket.

  “Hey! Give those back!”

  “Nope.”

  Molly poked him in the chest. “If I ever see those hanging up in your training locker like some kind of trophy—”

  “For my eyes only. I promise.” He rested his forehead to hers. “This is ours. No one needs to know how it is between us.”

  “You are so sweet sometimes. And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that either.”

  Deacon held her hand as they exited the training room. “What’re your plans for tonight?”

  “I’ve been spectacularly fucked, so I can cross that off my ‘to do’ list.”

  “Hilarious, babe.”

  “I actually have some work to catch up on. What about you?”

  He had to check over the financial statements from JFW and the investment reports Tag had e-mailed him. “I’ve got stuff to look over.”

  “Fight tapes?”

  “Yeah.” Not a lie since he still hadn’t watched Needham’s last training tape.

  When they exited the stairwell on the second floor, Knox and Shiori were standing outside the office door.

  Knox’s shrewd gaze zoomed between Deacon and Molly. Then he flashed a shit-eating grin the size of Texas and mouthed, Busted, before he elbowed Shiori.

  Shi-Shi turned those cool eyes on him and shifted Nuri to her