Cage Match (8 page)

Andreas‟s long-fingered hand skimmed over the surface of the screen, calling up a

sporting goods site and searching through mats and ropes, helmets and mouthpieces,

arm and leg guards. Luckily, all the items had pictures, so Jabez could point to his

suggestions without revealing that he couldn‟t read their descriptions.

Andreas paused at images of martial arts weapons.

“You don‟t need weapons yet. Train your body first. You need to learn endurance

and control before anything else.”

“Yes, sir.” The creases blossomed at the corners of Andreas‟s mouth, and Jabez

wanted to trace them with his finger or kiss them.

After Andreas had placed the order, he turned off his handheld but didn‟t move

back to the other bench. They sat together in the darkening twilight, listening to the

fountain, the chimes, and the birds‟ evening songs. Jabez had never been in such a

peaceful spot. He wanted to stay in the garden all night and sleep under the stars that

were beginning to appear in the sky.

But at last Andreas rose to go inside. Reluctantly, Jabez followed him.

“I‟ll probably be gone by the time you get up in the morning. Our order should be

delivered by early afternoon. I put a rush on it. So I‟ll leave it up to you to supervise the

unloading and outfitting of the gym.” Andreas continued to speak as he led the way

upstairs. “I‟ll show you the space so you can think about how you want to set it up. I

have a handyman who does all my home repairs. I‟ll give him a call and tell him to

come over and install anything that needs it.”

Jabez only half listened, as his eyes were on the other man‟s ass as he went up the

stairs. His pants were tight, molded to a taut ass. The tail of his shirt blocked Jabez‟s

view, and he wanted to pull it up so he could see—maybe even grab—that sweet butt.

“Sounds good,” he said when Andreas paused, waiting for his response.

The studio was at the end of the corridor beyond the bedrooms and above the

pool area. Glass enclosed the room above and on three sides. During the day, the space

would be flooded with light. Jabez rapped his knuckles against the glass. It wasn‟t the

real thing but Sturdi-glass, an unbreakable alternative. Even if a fighter got thrown up

against the wall, it wouldn‟t shatter.

He walked over to an easel on which a painting rested covered by a cloth. He

started to lift the material.

“Oh no. You don‟t want to see that.” Andreas followed and put out a hand to stop

him. “Loving art doesn‟t make you good at doing it. This painting is embarrassing.”

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Jabez shrugged off his hand and threw back the cloth. The image was a jangling

riot of colors without recognizable form. He could feel the tension and confusion in it.

The painting looked like he felt most of the time.

“The rest are even worse.” Andreas indicated a stack of canvases facing the wall.

“I‟ll clear these out of here, if you‟ll help me carry them. We can take the whole mess up

to the attic, although I should just burn the things.”

“Why?” Jabez touched the surface of the canvas, feeling the thick ridges of paint in

chaotic swirls.

“They‟re awful. That‟s why I gave up painting.”

Jabez didn‟t say anything else. He carried several canvases while Andreas

transported several boxes full of painting supplies. A few trips to the attic emptied the

room, leaving it ready to utilize as a training area.

Before they went back downstairs from the attic, Jabez paused by the stack of

paintings tucked under the eaves. “Can I have it?”

“What? A painting?”

He nodded. “The one from the easel.”

“For your room? I can buy you a painting if the walls are too stark, but you don‟t

want to have to look at that piece of crap every day.”

He wouldn‟t say that looking at it made him feel like he was on the edge of

knowing something. Instead, he shrugged and turned away from the canvases.

“But if you really want it, you can have it. Sure.” Andreas paused, then added,

“I‟m, uh, glad you like it.”

Without replying, Jabez picked up the painting and carried it with him back down

to the second floor.

As the two men stood in the hallway, for a moment Jabez was certain Andreas

would invite him to come to his room. He wanted to go. Shouldn‟t but did. His body

burned for the other man‟s touch on his skin. But after a second, Andreas bid him good

night and went toward his room.

Jabez went into his bedroom and set the painting on top of the dresser, propping it

against the wall. He touched it all over, felt the ridges and dips, and examined the

bright colors. He liked how the paint was cracking in places where it was piled on too

thick. He stepped back and gazed at it as a whole. Messy. Chaotic. It was very lifelike.

He stripped off his clothes, lay back on the bed, and turned on the media-screen.

He flipped around until he found a porn vid, then settled back to watch the two men

fucking in the middle of a forest. The story was something about primitive warriors

from opposing clans who fell in love and met in secret. But the story didn‟t matter. It

was the hot and heavy fucking that was the point. The blond man liked it rough, so his

partner tied him to a tree and whipped him with a branch before fucking him. Then he

draped him over a rock and fucked his ass a second time.

36

Bonnie Dee

By the time the dark-haired warrior had the blond on his knees sucking him off

before coming on his face, Jabez was shooting cum onto his own stomach. He groaned

in relief. He‟d spent most of the day hard and aching from being around Andreas. It felt

good to let that tension go.

After that, he took another shower just because he could, dried off, and dropped

into bed. He thought about how much his life had changed in a day‟s time, and about

how it was impossible to tell what would happen next. Life was too changeable.

Then he passed out and slept until morning as if he‟d been knocked unconscious.

* * * * *

what to do, but the deliverymen were obedient, bringing in boxes and even opening

and placing the items where he told them to. The handyman put up a sparring ring of

posts and ropes and built a case on one wall where the equipment could be stored. He

was as obedient as the delivery guys, building everything exactly to Jabez‟s

specifications.

Jabez stood with his arms folded, watching as the man put up a sheet of Peg-

Board with hooks for hanging things.

“Hello?” A voice from the doorway caught his attention. He looked from the nail-

pounding handyman to the stranger walking into the room. The man was of medium

height and build. He had bright red hair and cobalt blue eyes that shone against his

artificially pale skin. He looked like old money and stood arrogantly like a man who

knew he ruled the world. One of Andreas‟s friends. Maybe the one who‟d bet him an

evening with a gladiator.

“Well, hello-o.” The man scanned Jabez from head to toe. “What‟s going on here?

What‟s Andreas up to?”

Jabez kept his arms crossed and his mouth shut as he stared right back at him.

“Now I know why he wouldn‟t come out to play yesterday. That boy has secret

depths.” He moved closer, and Jabez instinctively brought his arms down, holding his

fists lightly clenched by his sides. Waiting.

He wanted to start circling the other man as he would any opponent but forced

himself to remain still and see what the stranger would do.

“My name is Timon. I‟m Andreas‟s dearest friend, and you must be his

new…project. I can‟t believe he brought you home.” He drew even closer, invading

Jabez‟s space and making the hair on his nape prickle and his fists clench tighter.

“You have me to thank for it, you know. I‟m the one who chose the terms of the

bet. I knew a hot, juicy fuck was just what my boy needed to release some steam, but I

never imagined he‟d bring you home. You must be an amazing lay. ”

Jabez refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He remained silent and

stiff but poised to lash out. Not that he could plow his fist into this asshole‟s face.

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37

Andreas would have him back in the Fight Palace before he could blink if he beat up his

friend.

At last, Timon turned away to look around the room. “So what are you building

here, your own little arena? You and Andreas going to „spar‟?” He drawled the word.

Walking over to the ring, he ran his hand along the rope and watched the handyman

work. “Where is Andreas today?”

“The city. I‟ll tell him you stopped by. You can go now.” Jabez gave his most

intimidating stare, but the man didn‟t flinch. Timon knew there was no bite behind his

bark and he wouldn‟t physically force him out of the house.

Timon picked up a pair of boxing gloves from the floor, inhaled the scent of new

leather, then slipped his hand into one of them. “I never thought Andreas was this

butch. I don‟t think he‟ll like all the punching and sweating. I imagine he‟ll lose interest

in this hobby as quickly as he usually does.” He stared at Jabez with his unearthly, fake

blue eyes again. “What will happen to you then?”

Jabez‟s stomach dropped since this was exactly what he‟d asked himself.

“Back to the Fight Palace, I suppose.” Timon dropped the gloves on the floor and

strolled toward Jabez. He stopped only a foot away, challenging him with his stare

while stroking a hand up his arm. The touch of his hand made Jabez‟s skin crawl.

“Maybe I can give you a room at my house instead. I could bring in sparring

partners for you. I‟d love having personal exhibitions of your skills.”

Jabez gritted his teeth together. He longed to grab the man by the scruff of his

neck and hurl him across the room against the Sturdi-glass windows, find out if they

were as durable as they were supposed to be. His body vibrated with the need to kill,

and so he held perfectly still, waiting for the fury to pass.

Timon‟s eyes burned like cold blue fire. He was completely aroused, enjoying the

sensation of poking a caged tiger that dared not claw him. At last he dropped his hand

from Jabez‟s arm and stepped back.

“All right then. Tell Andreas I stopped by and I‟ll see him soon.” He walked

toward the door, a whiff of expensive cologne trailing behind him.

The pretty little weasel of a man left Jabez with a queasy feeling—not only because

of his taunting, but because he felt in his gut the guy was as rotten as spoiled meat.

Somehow, some way, Timon was a danger to Andreas. He could sense it and vowed to

keep his new employer safe from his “best friend” if it was in his power to do so.

38

Bonnie Dee

Chapter Five

Andreas had never been so exhausted in his life. Jabez took his role as trainer as

seriously as if preparing him for a death match. He‟d seized Andreas the afternoon he‟d

returned from the board meeting and began working him. The rigorous exercises and

strict discipline had continued for three days now, until his every muscle ached.

But even though his body felt as bruised as if it had been beaten with a stick, it

was a good kind of ache. His muscles were sore but supple from the exercises, the

martial arts moves and the weight lifting in addition to his usual routine of swimming

laps.

The first couple of days, Jabez had mostly stood off to the side barking orders.

“Ten more times. Put more force into it.” Sometimes he took hold of Andreas‟s limbs

and molded them into the proper movement. Those rare touches never failed to send an

excited thrill through him no matter how tired his body was.

Today, Jabez finally stepped into the ring with him, wearing a pad over his chest

and arm guards. Andreas‟s hands were wrapped, but other than that, he wore no body

protection. He was to be the aggressor, lashing out at Jabez with his best punches and

kicks, while Jabez maintained a defensive posture. Andreas was nervous. It was one

thing to assault a weight bag, but he‟d never hit another human being in his life.

Andreas held up his fists and shifted his weight back and forth on the balls of his

feet as Jabez had taught him. He danced forward and jabbed, then gasped with pain as

his knuckles took the impact and it raced up his arm. His punch had been intercepted

by Jabez‟s padded forearm, which had less give than the canvas punching bag.

“You have to learn to take the pain. Suck it up and give it back.”

Jabez‟s helpful comment made Andreas
want
to punch him. He jabbed high, then

low, trying to get underneath the other man‟s guard. He kicked his foot higher than he

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39

ever had before and connected with the side of Jabez‟s head, snapping it to the left. It

must‟ve hurt, but he only grunted and said, “That‟s better.”

Andreas was taken aback, not only at the fact that he‟d caused pain, but that he‟d