Claiming The Prize (5 page)

“
He'll probably want to get home.
He's
not much of a night-owl.”

Guy's black SUV was not there, but other cars
were scattered in the lot.

“
He likely went out with the Friar and
Ike for a late dinner after the meeting.
I'm wondering why the
downstairs lights are still on.
It's after nine o'clock.
Will you
come in with me?”

“
I would not let you go without me,” he
asserted.

The building was quiet.
The upstairs was
dark, and Grace went to the light-board thinking someone had simply
forgotten to turn them all off.
It was then that she noticed the
locker and whirlpool room lights were on as well, and she related
this to Drago.

He hesitated before saying, “Grace, let me
check the locker area just in case someone is in there.”

She agreed, not wanting to storm in on an
unsuspecting soul who had stayed late to get in an extra practice.
Drago disappeared down the hallway that led to the lockers.
Hearing
muffled noises, he was certain someone was still there.
He was not
prepared for the scene that greeted him.

Seated in the whirlpool was Savannah Jameson
with Carson in front of her pumping himself in and out of her
mouth.
Drago averted his eyes and moved to leave unnoticed.
He
would tell Grace that Carson was there, nothing more.
His mind
reeled.
Should he speak with Guy Antolini about what he had just
seen?
He knew the man would not approve of Carson's actions, but
probably didn't become involved in his fighters' personal lives.
What if he had not been there and Grace had walked in on them?

Drago reappeared into view, striding over to
the desk, and Grace relaxed.

“
It is only Carson.”

“
Carson?
I thought he had a date
tonight.
What is he doing here?”

Not wanting to reveal what he had previously
discovered in the locker, but unwilling to lie, Drago gave the only
answer he could think of.

“
Enjoying the whirlpool,
Grace.”

She laughed, unknowing how true the words
were.

“
Well, you did deal a good blow to his
ego this afternoon, as well as to his head.
I guess he needed a
good soak after that match.
He can lock up when he's done; Anto
gave him a key.”

Drago steered her out the door, desperately
wanting to get out of there before Carson and Savannah got any
louder.
After witnessing the pair's activity, he recognized the
sounds for what they were.
Safely away, Drago felt only slightly
better.
Not only did he need to decide whether to tell Guy about
tonight's events, he had the added problem of the tension those
images caused in his body.

* * *

Carson had asked Savannah to pick him up
mostly to irritate the Slovak.
She had thrown the signals, and he
knew she'd not turn him down.
Besides, she was blond and beautiful,
his favorite type of bed-partner.
He figured she might be
entertainment for awhile, something to get his mind off Grace
Antolini's flat out rejection.
Carson had been somewhat comforted
by the fact that Grace didn't date anyone.
Now, he wasn't so sure.
She had never accepted his dinner invitations, even as a friend,
but she had openly asked Zadrovec.
And his attempt at intimidation
had gone wrong, too.
Frankly, it hadn't worked at all.
Carson
wanted to indulge in some good fucking and forget the both of them,
at least for tonight.

He and Savannah had gone out for burgers and
beer at a little place just down the road.
Over dinner, Carson
realized he wasn't going to have to work hard at all this night.
Savannah let him know she wanted him, and when they finished their
meals, she boldly confronted him.

“
Take me back to your gym, Carson.
I'm
going to fuck your brains out.”

Something about her sexy voice and the
blatant descriptions of what she wanted to do turned him on
immensely.
The short drive to First Strike was agonizing for him as
Savannah bared her breasts and pulled at her pink nipples, and
Carson was hard as iron by the time they slipped in the back.
Right
inside the door, Savannah took control, pushing him roughly against
the wall and rubbing her hands over the bulge in his jeans.
She
reached under his shirt and pinched his nipples as she dropped to
her knees, hardening him further, and ripped his button fly open,
exposing his rigid cock and squeezing him firmly while grazing her
teeth, very lightly, once down his length.
The potential danger her
roughness hinted at fueled his lust.
Slowly, she took him in her
mouth, sucking as her hand clamped his shaft.
He had never been so
turned on.
Carson yanked her away before he came right there, and
she smiled wickedly as they hurried into the locker.
He turned the
lights and jetted tub on quickly, and when he turned around,
Savannah was naked on the tile floor, splayed wide, pleasuring
herself.

“
Come over here, Carson,” she
purred.

As he shed his clothing, Savannah rose and
stood in front of the sink and wall mirror.
She bent over the
counter and looked over her shoulder seductively.
He was behind her
in an instant, running his hands over her full breasts, his
throbbing erection rubbing her entrance.
The foil packet in his
hand scraped over her skin, halting his exploration as he fumbled
to open it quickly.
Rolling the condom over his tight flesh, Carson
grabbed Savannah's hips and speared into her.

Their bodies worked furiously to achieve the
ecstasy they craved like a drug, hungry to drown out the world.
Carson was an aggressive lover, taking what he wanted, demanding,
but Savannah matched his roughness, surpassed it.
He cursed loudly,
slamming his hips into her violently as he came, her orgasm milking
him dry.
Chest heaving, Carson wrapped his arms around her hips and
began kissing her creamy skin.

“
What are you doing?”
Savannah asked
mockingly.
“Do you suppose I'm aching for your tender
attentions?”

She laughed and disengaged from him, walking
over to the whirlpool tub and sinking beneath the bubbling surface.
Carson was left standing alone.
As a moth to flame, he followed
her, fascinated.
Savannah reached into her leather jacket beside
the pool and withdrew two small pills which she swallowed without
taking a drink.

“
What was that?”
Carson
demanded.

“
The recipe for the best sex you'll
ever have, Khaler.
Want to give it a try?
You'll thank
me...”

Pulling out two more tablets, Savannah pushed
them into Carson's mouth sensually.
Caught up in his arousal and
the promise of more, he accepted her poison of choice.

“
Better than before?”
he
grinned.

“
That was child's play,
baby.”

Half an hour later, the drug induced haze of
sensitization left them both completely unaware that they had been
seen by Drago.
Savannah, arms stretched across the sides of the
bath's edge as she soaked in the heated water, moaned as Carson
thrust in and out of her hot mouth greedily.
He groaned in pleasure
and withdrew from her, grabbing her out of the water and laying her
on the cool, white subway tiles on the floor.
Bending her knees, he
rolled her hips out, holding her completely open.
Lost in the high
together, neither noticed nor cared that he had no condom as he
slid into her.

Their enhanced arousal lasted through the wee
hours of the morning, and by that time, Carson had filled her
multiple times with his semen.
Finally collapsing in exhaustion at
her place, Carson drifted into slumber thinking he had found the
woman of his dreams.
At least for this week.

* * *

Drago trotted from the showers after his last
workout before the afternoon break.
Heading for Grace's office, he
hoped to find her as he usually did, working at her desk unaware of
the time and free for lunch.

“
Grace,” he called in after tapping on
the door frame, “it is time for lunch.
Do you have
plans?”

“
Do I ever?”
she laughed.
“I've had
more lunch dates since you arrived than I've had ...well,
ever!”

She reddened at hearing the word
dates
come from her
mouth.

“
I didn't mean dates, dates.
I meant that I eat with you a lot.
I mean, …”

“
I think I understand,
Grace.”

He stared at her, amusement showing in his
eyes.

“
You have not had many
dates?”
he probed.

“
Not exactly,” she admitted
awkwardly.
“There's not much time for it.
Besides, you have to get
asked first.
I don't meet people easily.”

Drago grabbed their lunches from the fridge
and returned to the desk.
Offering her the sandwich, he brushed
against her, and for Grace, the simple touch sent warmth shooting
up her arm.

“
Would you accept a date if
someone asked you?”
he questioned further.

Grace fidgeted in her seat, averting her
gaze from him.

“
I guess it would depend on
who asked.”

“
I see,” Drago said before
changing the subject.
Picking up a book on the edge of her desk, he
steered their conversation to a lighter subject.
“What is this
about?
Do you read much?”

“
Actually, yes, I do.
Right
now, I'm caught up in a novel about a family of women who have
eerie encounters with the supernatural through their generations.
I've been reading it the last few nights.
Can't you see the dark
circles under my eyes?”
she jested.
“Not only have I stayed awake
half the night, unable to put it down, but when I do, I'm too
scared to sleep!”

“
If it frightens you, why do
you read it?”

“
Well, it's fun to be
scared.
At least sometimes – when it's not real.
It's like going to
an amusement park.
Being scared is part of the fun.
You are safely
strapped in, you've seen a hundred people ride before you, but when
your turn comes you get scared anyway.
It's scary and fun at the
same time.”

Drago's laughter filled the office.

“
I understand this fun,
Grace.
I feel this way when I make a fight with a good opponent.
Now, tell me the name of this book, and I will see if it is as
scary as you say.”

Drago worried that he questioned Grace too
much, but he wanted to know everything about her.
He could not help
himself.

The days fell one after the other, and
Drago's training grew more intense with each passing week.
He could
feel the improvements this grueling pace was producing.
Quicker in
his striking, his leg kick speed was nearly as fast as his hands,
and his endurance had increased as well.
The price, rising before
dawn and working until darkness fell, was worth it.
Drago had
eighteen weeks remaining before his fight, and so he pressed on,
certain Harrison was doing likewise.

His favorite training day was Saturday, when
he had Guy's uninterrupted expertise.
The workouts were exhausting
yet exhilarating.
Guy relentlessly worked Drago's timing on
strikes, foot and head movement, controlling the octagon space, and
throwing combinations while creating unexpected angles.
This
instruction would prove invaluable, Drago knew, and he therefore
repeated the motions until he moved without thought.

Outside of training, the highlight of his
week was Sunday.
Grace had asked him about his faith after spying
the cross he wore around his neck, and being outwardly pleased at
discovering their shared faith, invited him to attend weekly mass
at St.
Cecelia's.
Drago needed the encouragement that worship
offered.
And he could not deny that the promise of spending the day
with Grace was more than a small part of accepting her offer each
week.

The church was an older building, and its
golden dome gleamed in the early morning light.
Teal and blue
stained glass surrounded the sturdy wood constructed doors.
Tall,
apricot hued steel supports angled from the top of the newly added
two-storied entryway outward, giving an updated appearance to the
house of worship.

Inside, the atmosphere was solemn and
reverent.
The eternal flame burned in its red glass, suspended by
the triple gold chains near the altar, which was now draped in
purple as the Lenten season was observed.
Familiar rites of faith
reminded Drago of home, and he was happy to be sharing them with
the Antolinis.
At times, his mind wandered during the services, and
more than once Grace caught him looking at her.
But she only smiled
in return before looking away.
He suspected that she was as
affected by him as he was by her, and if his plans came to
fruition, he would have an answer one way or the other in the very
near future.

Each week after service they would return to
the house where father and daughter spent the afternoon together,
talking or simply reading side by side.
Drago had been invited from
the first.
Guy insisted on a day of rest, and after spending time
with the pair he would retreat, reading his books while Grace and
Drago conversed.
It was Guy's belief that soundness of body began
with the mind, so he exercised both halves of himself religiously.
These lazy afternoons were a treasured respite of peace from the
busy schedule of the gym.
They all enjoyed the calm deeply.

It was not the surroundings but Grace's
company Drago enjoyed most, and he found himself looking for
reasons to be near her.
Drago had decided to speak with Guy about
Grace this Sunday, wanting her father's approval before pursuing
her beyond friendship.
When Guy stood to retreat to his study,
Drago followed.

“
May I speak with you?”
Drago asked as
they entered the dark crimson room.

“
Of course, Drago.
Come in,” Guy
answered.

The man settled in his favorite overstuffed
chair.
He donned rectangular reading glasses and glanced at the
pile of books he was currently working through before clearing his
throat and raising an eyebrow at the younger man.

Drago remained standing, carefully selecting
the words he would speak aloud.
Guy watched him, wearing an
expression that conveyed a sense that he understood the importance
of what he would hear, and Drago was inclined to believe that the
man expected it to concern his daughter.

Guy was no fool; he had been conducting his
own observations.
He had seen Drago's eyes following his daughter,
noted as the man invented reasons to be near her.
This young man
was quite different from the other fighters he trained.
He was
smart, strong, and dedicated, but more importantly he was a man of
faith and treated everyone with respect.
For these reasons, Guy had
stood aside and allowed nature to take its course.
Leveling Drago
with a penetrating stare, his pale blue eyes stood out against his
deep complexion and coal-black hair.

Drago met his gaze, addressing Guy in a
metered tone.

“
I would like to pursue your daughter,
sir.
Before I will do this, I ask for your blessing.
If you deny my
request, know that I will abide your wishes.”

Guy leaned forward, his face unchanging.

“
Sit down, Drago.”

Drago took the chair opposite Guy without a
word, waiting for him to continue, desperately hoping for the man's
consent.
He said a silent prayer, knowing he had found the woman he
wished to marry, aware that his future happiness as well as his
relationship with his mentor hung in the silence.

Finally Guy spoke, not yet offering an
answer, but posing a question of his own.

“
You think that Grace feels the
same?”

“
That is my hope, sir.”

Guy was amused at the Slovakian's
discomfiture, for it showed the importance he placed on the answer.
He waited, prolonging his silence long enough to satisfy his
fatherly protectiveness, but the fact that Drago had asked him made
his decision easier.

“
We'll soon find out, Drago.
You have
my blessing.”

Without another word Guy selected one of his
books and began reading.
Drago might have supposed the man was
angry with his abrupt end to the conversation, but the grin on his
face was unhidden.
Relief washed through Drago's body, and he
realized he had held his muscles tense while awaiting Guy's
blessing.
Thanking Guy, Drago exited the study, hoping to speak
with Grace privately.
Unfortunately Ike, Yves, and St.
Clair had
all arrived and were animatedly entertaining Grace in the
kitchen.

Ike's wife, Rita, had passed away
unexpectedly a few years earlier, and the man hadn't begun dating
until recently.
He was in no hurry to marry again, but missed the
companionship at home.
Yves was still a bachelor at the age of
thirty-five, and St.
Clair was between wives at the present moment.
St.
Clair loved the ladies, and they loved him in return – for a
time.
He had earned four fortunes and lost three to ex-wives.
As if
that weren't enough, he was on the prowl for a fourth Mrs.
Davis.

Grace knew the instant Drago re-appeared.
She
had been watching ever since he had followed her father into the
study.
Curious as to what the men had discussed in private, Grace
suffered some disappointment when their guests arrived before
Drago's re-emergence from behind the closed door.
Secretly, she
indulged the hope that they discussed her, for she had waited
patiently, each day thinking Drago may reveal feelings harbored for
her.
He hadn't, leaving her to wonder if she imagined his interest,
if her own feelings caused her to see signs where there were none,
if she deluded herself into believing what she wanted - instead of
what was.

“
Grace, are you okay there?”
St.
Clair
poked her.
“Heck, girl, the Friar's been talking at you non-stop.
Where's your mind?”

“
Oh, I'm sorry Yves.
I'm out of sorts
today,” she apologized.

“
I was complimenting your work with
Henner.
He's made startling improvement since we brought him in to
work with you.
Well done.”

“
Thank you,” Grace responded warmly.
“I
really can't take all the credit.
Jeremy's an amazing student,
following my instruction exactly.”

“
Bah!
You're a fine teacher,
Gracie.”

The Friar regarded the young woman in front
of him.
Something, he decided was bothering her; she hadn't been
herself for weeks.
Grace was like a younger sister to him, and a
hint of concern was growing in the pit of his gut.
He noticed
things others did not.
She hardly touched her food over the last
weeks and was often lost in thought.
He would discover what
troubled her in time.

Heaven help who or what it is, he thought as
the group gathered for the evening meal.

Leg of lamb with garlic, roasted potatoes,
and salad was enjoyed and cleared from the cherry dining room
table.
Still sitting around it, the group talked shop while St.
Clair and Grace worked in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and
packing each man a meal to eat after they put in one of their long
nights at First Strike.

St.
Clair Davis often helped her clean up and
sometimes even cooked.
He was an excellent chef, truth be told.
At
six-feet tall, with ebony skin and eyes like melted chocolate, it
was no wonder that women flocked to him in droves.
He possessed a
heart of gold, and Grace felt a pang of sadness for her friend.
His
professional life was well ordered and successful, but he had a
disastrous private one.
Wanting nothing more than to settle down
with a beautiful woman to love, St.
Clair was overly susceptible to
their charms.
When he fell in love, he fell hard and fast, and at
forty-three years of age, he had three ex-wives.
It wasn't that he
tired of them.
No, they tired of him.
His dedication to the sport,
his love of his job, was ever a contention in his relationships.
Grace wished he would find someone who would understand and share
his zeal for the art of fighting and spare him any further
heartache as she listened to him speaking of his newest love
interest.

“
We're set to have dinner next
weekend,” he informed her.

“
Be careful, Saint,” Grace chided him
with a mischievous smile.
“You can't afford any more alimony
payments.”

His rich voice filled the room with
laughter.

“
Always on the lookout for me.
You
sound more like Anto every day.
Don't you worry that little head
over me any.
You've got your own situation, I'd say, to worry
on.”

His raised eyebrow and sly smile dared her to
answer.

Grace's silence only encouraged him on.

“
The Saint knows what he sees, and what
he sees is you're half in love with the Slovak!”

The worried look on Grace's face prompted him
to add, “Don't get you knickers up in a bunch, Gracie girl.
It can
stay our secret if you want.”

“
St.
Clair Davis!”
she threatened in a
hiss of exasperation, “Don't you speak a word of it.
I'll not be
thought of as some silly girl making cow eyes in the
gym.”

After a small pause, she asked in a much
smaller voice, “Is it that obvious?”

Leaning his head closer to hers while still
chuckling, he soothed her ruffled feathers.

“
Only to me Gracie.
You know I've got
the eye to spot it.”

St.
Clair closed the dishwasher and turned it
on.

“
Has he told you he loves you?
'Cause
he does.”

The telltale grin on his face was vexing to
her.
She didn't need any encouragement of her feelings, especially
from a romantic like St.
Clair.

“
No!”
she exclaimed.
“We're friends,
St.
Clair.
He's never said anything else.”

“
Then maybe he's a fool.
But I don't
think so.
Mark my words, Grace.
He will.”