Corrupt - Douglas Penelope - Страница 79

Michael. Michael, Michael. Always on my mind. Always inside of me.

I could feel his eyes on me now, and all I wanted was to strip out of these clothes and feel his skin on mine.

Forever.

What was I going to do?

“Hey, hey, hey…ease up,” the guy demanded. “I’m trying to enjoy myself here.”

I slowed my advance, breathing hard. “Sorry.”

I scored two times and he once, but I could barely concentrate anymore. Michael was watching, and now, instead of sparring and scoring, I wanted something else. The sweat on my bare skin under the clothes made the fabric chafe, and the threads rubbing my clit made me wet. I could feel my pulse between my legs throbbing, and I turned my head quickly to see Michael’s jaw flex and his chest rising and falling faster.

The corner of his mouth lifted smugly, and he knew I was getting worked up.

But then I grunted, feeling the flat tip of a sword digging into my stomach.

“Ugh,” I growled, backing away. “Dammit!”

The guy laughed at me, and I scowled at Michael, seeing him smile to himself.

My skin was so hot, and frustration nipped at every nerve on my body. The suit and mask felt like a pile of blankets on top of me, weighting me down so much that I was suffocating, and I wanted to rip everything off just to breathe.

I clenched my fists, seeing the challenge in Michael’s eyes. Oh, no. It’s my way this time.

“Good match,” I ground out to the guy, and then I walked away, leaving the floor.

“Hey?” I heard the guy exclaim.

But I didn’t turn around.

Tossing my sword at Michael, I saw him catch it before passing his table and walking out of the room, knowing he’d follow.

I made my way through the gym and into locker room, turning my head and seeing him come up behind me with fire in his eyes. He didn’t have the sword, so he must’ve left it at the table.

Twisting back around, I headed for the showers again, knowing we’d have privacy in the separate stalls, but he grabbed me by the hips, stopping me instead. Swinging open the door to the steam room, he forced me inside, and I glanced around quickly, making sure it was empty.

Steam hung in the air of the huge beige-tiled room, several areas difficult to see with all the water in the air. The rectangular area was scaffolded like a movie theater with four levels of seating and plenty of room to lie out.

But it was empty. The door didn’t lock, but we were alone for the moment.

I spun around and grabbed the bottom of my mask, tearing it off my head and letting it fall to the floor.

“Games, games, games…” I scolded, unzipping my jacket. “You’re driving me crazy.”

He grabbed me, pulling the white fencing jacket down my arms and coming down on my lips hard. The jacket fell to the floor, and I gripped his shoulders as he pulled me up and into him, covering my mouth with his taste and heat. His tongue slid in, flicking mine as he moved strong and powerful, devouring me.

“I like you crazy,” he gasped, pulling back an inch. “And I like you wet. How are you feeling down here?” He pushed his hand down the front of my pants, having no problem finding how slick I was. “Yeah. These pants rubbed against you good, huh? I knew they would.”

I shot back up, meeting him full force as we continued to kiss, bite, and play. I worked the rubber band out of my hair, finally freeing it and letting the long tendrils fall down my back.

His needy hands covered my skin, damp with sweat, and then slid down my pants, cupping my ass and pulling me into him.

The thick ridge of his cock nudged my clit, and I groaned, it felt so good.

“Somebody could come in,” I whispered against his neck as I pushed his black jacket down his arms. “We should go to the shower.”

“No,” he growled low, ripping open his shirt, the buttons flying. “I want to see you sweat.”

I glanced nervously at the frosted door, knowing someone could enter at any second, but my pussy was throbbing, my nipples were so hard from brushing against his clothes, and I didn’t care about anything except having him inside me.

Within seconds, my pants, shoes, and socks were gone, and Michael had shed his shirt before picking me up and wrapping my legs around him.

He stood there, in the center of the room, gripping my ass and kissing my neck, my jaw, and then my lips. I could feel my hair sticking to my back, and the air in the room grew thick, every inch of my skin coming alive as I tilted my head back.

“Rika,” he whispered against my neck. “I need you. I need you every day, every hour, every minute…”

I brought my head back up, hugging him close and wishing time would stand still.

He was everything.

My entire life, I only felt completely alive when he was close, and while I knew nothing would ever be easy with him, I also knew nothing would ever be good without him, either.

Dipping my head into his neck and closing my eyes, I whispered, “I love you, Michael.”

He remained still, his hold on me not changing, but it felt like he’d stopped breathing.

Tears sprang to my eyes when he didn’t say anything, and I held him tight. Please don’t push me away.

I wasn’t sorry I’d said it. I’d owned it, and there was no other choice. But I couldn’t face his silence. Or the truth that what was in his heart might not be what was in mine.

But I wasn’t sorry.

“Rika…” he said, sounding like he was searching for words.

But I shook my head, dropping my legs and forcing him to let me down. “Don’t say anything,” I told him, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t expect you to.”

His hands stayed on my hips, and I knew he was staring at me.

“Tell her you love her,” a deep voice echoed. “Jesus Christ.”

I shot my head up, Michael doing the same as we scanned the billows of steam and finally made out a pair of legs on the top level swinging over the edge as he sat up.

“Is it that fucking hard?” Kai set his feet on the tile of the next level and leaned down on his elbows, staring at Michael. “You’re so tortured. Had it real tough, haven’t you, Michael?”

I sucked in a breath and dived down, picking up Michael’s black shirt and covering myself.

Oh, my God. He’d been here the whole time? What the hell?

“A beautiful girl looks at you like you’re God her entire life,” Kai continued, shifting something small and red from one hand to the other over and over again, “and you’re never going to get anything better, because there is nothing better, and you still can’t say it? Do you know how lucky you are?”

Michael stood silent, his eyes narrowed on Kai. He wasn’t going to argue with him. He never would. Giving Kai’s accusation any attention would give it credibility.

Kai dropped his eyes, still spilling the small red items from hand to hand and looking solemn.

Do you know how lucky you are? Had it real tough, haven’t you?

“What are those?” I asked, tightening the shirt around my chest.

“Shells,” he answered.

Shells? I peered more closely at them, seeing the gold ends and tattered heads, scrappy and blown out.

Shells. Shotgun shells.

And they’d been fired. My heart started thumping.

“Why do you have them?” Michael demanded.

But Kai just shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Why do you have them?” I demanded, stepping in.

I knew Kai was struggling, but why the hell did he have shotgun shells?

“They’re from the last time my grandfather took me shooting clay pigeons,” he explained, no emotion in his voice. “I was thirteen. It was the last time I remember being a kid.”

He stood up and walked down the levels, a white towel wrapped around his waist and his black hair slicked back.

“Sorry I didn’t make myself known sooner,” he said, approaching us. “I guess I…”

He trailed off as if thinking better of what he was about to say.