“That evens things up,” Nash said. “Now for the big decision—panties or bra?”
Fairchild glowered at him as she pushed herself up. There was a smudge of red at the corner of her mouth. She knuckled it away, then yanked her bra up over her head. She tossed it to the mat, and the damp fabric landed with a wet smack.
But Nash wasn’t looking at her bra. He was looking at her bare chest. Her breasts were small but perfectly shaped—two perfect handfuls tipped with a pair of dark nipples that were just begging to be sucked. It was all Nash could do to keep from nutting in his compression shorts.
Not yet, Nash told himself.Not till I’ve got this woman tied up just the way I want her.
They approached without hesitation and locked once more in combat, a blur of whirling, half-naked bodies, their attacks and counterattacks flurrying so fast an ordinary human eye would never have been able to follow.
Kick, feint, kick, duck, slice, jab, evade.
Fairchild came at him with a flying knee, but Nash blocked it. He countered with a push that sent her stumbling back into the side of the cage. He was on her in a flash, capturing her body between his own and the springy chain-link mesh. Her naked breasts flattened against his chest. The hardness between his legs pressed against the heat between hers. Two thin layers of fabric were all that was keeping them apart. The lust was overwhelming.
Before Nash even knew what he was doing, his lips were locked with hers. He wasn’t even sure who had started the kiss, him or her, but if he’d had to place a bet, he would have bet on himself. Still, if the woman minded, she wasn’t letting it show. Her mouth was open, and her tongue was writhing with his own, hungry and wet. When he grinded his crotch against her, she grinded back. She moaned like she was on the verge of a climax. Her legs wrapped around his hips.
Then with a sudden, jerking motion, the woman pushed off from the side of the cage and hooked one ankle into the back of Nash’s knee, striking a pressure point.
His leg began to buckle. He started to go down.
Somehow, he managed to save it at the last moment. A quick turn, and they both hit the mat at the same time, face to face, chest to chest, panting, sweating, burning.
“You really do like to fight dirty,” Nash said, “don’t you?”
“Funny,” said Fairchild. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“Unfortunately, that one was too close to call…”
With a sudden surge, he rolled her onto her back and mounted her, his pelvis cradled between her open thighs. He rocked his hips slowly, gliding his bulge against the front of her panties.
“…but if you’d like to go ahead and surrender,” he said, “I promise I’ll be gentle after I’ve got you tied up.”
Her eyes flared briefly as his bulge stroked her sweet spot. Her lips opened in a wet gasp. Her nipples were as hard as steel beads.
Then her face darkened. She arched and rolled, claiming the top position for herself, straddling his hips and pinning him beneath her.
“Fuck that,” she whispered. “A Mercneversurrenders.”
She pressed her hands against his chest and pushed hard, surging to her feet. Nash lay on his back for a moment, enjoying the view. His dick was straining hard against the front of his compression shorts, giving the tough elastic a run for its money.
He curled his legs back and did a kick-up, springing to his feet in one fluid motion. He grinned.
“Final round,” he said.
He and Fairchild touched knuckles, then circled briefly. Nash quickly rushed in, closing the distance and initiating a grapple. The woman’s kicks were deadly, but only effective at long range, and his superior size and strength gave him an advantage when it came to throws.
Nash wrapped his arms around the woman’s taut waist and turned, going for a hip toss. He would have had it too, but hefaltered for the thinnest possible slice of time. It was a sound that had distracted him. A presence in the doorway of the gym.
Fairchild took advantage of the hesitation, swinging her whole body up and around his own. Her strong thighs scissored around his head, and she arched, using both their momentums to bring him down.
Nash landed on his back with a crash. Fairchild was sitting on his face. The scent of her sex was hot in his nostrils. He could taste it in the back of his throat. His cock bucked hard in his shorts.
“You lose,” Fairchild said.
Nash didn’t even try to fight his spreading grin. As far as losses went, this one felt pretty damn good.
CHAPTER 9
Sonia Fairchild didn’t know whether to feel elated or enraged.
