Beast rallies, shaking off the hit. Piston is fast and powerful, but it’s not enough. Beast throws everything into one last brutal attack that knocks Piston into the ropes, scattering a couple of the spectators. He raises his hand, panting. "I give! You win." There’s blood and sweat dripping down his face. "Jesus Christ, man. Go get it. You've fucking earned it, but your days are numbered." And then he plops down onto the mat, right onto his ass. "Someone get me some fucking water."
Around me, money is being paid out to the lucky winners, people are cheering, and someone pushes a water bottle into Piston’s hand. Me, I'm just glad that they both seem okay even though they’ve just beaten the crap out of each other.
Beast drops his gloves and gets down on one knee next to Piston, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You good?"
"Fucking peachy." Piston takes a deep sip and swishes water around in his mouth, before swallowing and wiping his face with his towel. Whatever was bleeding seems to have stopped. He nods his head in my direction. "I’m good. Go claim your prize."
Beast nods, gets up and comes my way. He grabs a towel of his own and wipes away the worst of the sweat. If anything, it makes him look more dangerous. The deep green of his eyes is almost lost in blackness, and strands of dark hair have fallen out of his ponytail and are clinging to his damp skin. I’m glad I have Jerry and the rope for support, because my legs suddenly feel a little wobbly.
"Shit, I wish my phone wasn’t in my bag," Jerry whispers.
I wet my all-too-dry lips and swallow hard.
When Beast climbs through the ropes and drops down to the floor in front of me, I have to crane my neck to look up at him. There’s a cut on his shoulder just shallow enough to be angry and red, but not bleed. A red mark under his eye will probably bruise by tomorrow. But his lips look like they're fine—better than fine, even—soft and inviting.
His eyes study me carefully. “No bullshit, yes or no?”
My brain short circuits for a second, not expecting a choice. Do I really want to kiss him? Kissing Piston feels like a fever dream. I could push it into a little box and move on with no consequences if I want. But two of them? This feels like taking a step towards something. I’m not sure what yet, but definitely something.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Beast puts his hands around my waist, and the next thing I know I’m getting boosted right up onto the ring. I climb awkwardly through the ropes, and he follows easily with a graceful vault.
"Right here?" I look around, suddenly ridiculously self-conscious. It doesn’t help that on the floor, Jerry is busy directing someone with a phone pointed our way.
"Gotta give the crowd what they want. Don’t worry, it’s just a kiss.” Beast leans in close. "I'll even leave your clothes on."
He’s standing so close. All I can see is warm, glistening skin, and it’s all too easy to imagine doing this naked. Hypnotized by his smoldering eyes locked to mine, I freeze in place as he slides his strong fingers along the side of my neck and cups the back of my head in his wide palm. I brace my hands against his sweat-slickened chest and immediately regret it because I can feel the beat of his heart and the subtle shifting of his muscles in a way that feels far too intimate for this kind of public display.
"Ready?"
No? Yes? Maybe? Steeling myself, I nod.
Beast’s hand on the back of my head keeps me close while he slants his mouth over mine. His beard tickles my skin, and his lips are as soft as they look. He nips at my lower lip, daring me to come out and play. I open to him, and heat spikes through me as his tongue slides into my mouth. The scent of sweat and musk fries the neurons in my brain. There are no thoughts, only the driving ache for more.
What might be the loudest cheer of the night raises the roof, reminding me that we have an audience. Surprisingly, I don’t mind, and actually it’s probably for the best. Otherwise I’m not quite sure when or if I’d remember this is just supposed to bea kiss. So much for trying to be good, naughty is just way more fun.
We part too soon. But I don't think either of us want to share what feels like it could turn into something much bigger with the entirety of the gym. "Fuuuck," Beast sighs quietly. "I’ll fight anyone for another shot at those lips."
Yes, anything you want,my core screams, but my brain is back online just enough to not immediately stretch up and kiss him again. This is going to be trouble. “Maybe it’ll be Zero next time, so I can collect the whole set.”
His chuckle vibrates down to my toes. “I’ll remember to tell him you said that. You know,” he says conspiratorially. "Piston worked real hard, don’t you think?”
"You think he deserves a kiss, too?" The fire in my belly was just beginning to settle, but it flares up again in an instant.
"I think he earned it." Beast’s smile is full of mischief.
Piston has picked himself up off the floor and comes over just in time to hear the end of it. "Fuck you," he says with a laugh, but it doesn’t stop him from pushing Beast out of the way and putting his hands on my hips.
I hold my breath as Piston hooks his index finger under my chin and tilts my head up. Will it feel like last time, or was that a fluke?
It wasn’t.
Piston’s kiss is rougher than Beast’s. The fingers he slides into my hair twist, tugging lightly at the roots while his other hand slides to the small of my back, pulling me against him. I press my hands into his chest, feeling a light fuzz of soft hair as he devoursme. He makes a low, masculine noise that I can feel under my fingertips. People wolf whistle from below. I draw a sharp breath when he finally lets me up.
He chases my lips for one more kiss before backing off. "Fuck, Zero’s gonna be pissed he missed out."
“Serves him right for skipping I guess,” I say. Both Beast and Piston are looking down at me now.
