Shattered (8 page)

The crowd was raging all around the pit as
Anderson retreated across the circle, putting space between him and
the fallen man. Anderson clearly could have pinned the guy right
then and there, ended the fight in a matter of minutes. But it was
obvious that Anderson wanted to prolong the battle, play with his
opponent a little bit more. I could see that it wasn’t a quick,
violent defeat Anderson was after. He was all about strategy,
tactics, and well executed entertainment…his job was to fill arenas
after all.

The smart, intuitive moves he made were
precise and fine-tuned. He stood crouched on the other end of the
pit as Maelstrom straightened up once more. With a roar, the big
man came charging back toward Anderson once more.

This time, Anderson slipped right under
Maelstrom’s arm and pivoted quickly. He leveled a swift, strong
kick against the small of Erik’s back, sending the huge fighter
sprawling out in the sand again, a look of surprised fury plastered
on his face. They were right beneath us, and I found myself up out
of my seat, peering over the railing to get a better look at the
fight. I didn’t notice at first that I was cheering along with the
rest of the crowd—my cries of delight and encouragement were as
intuitive as breathing. Watching the fight was the most absolutely
exhilarating experience of my life. I felt my muscles tense and
relax along with Anderson’s, as if our bodies were in sync.

As if he could sense my longing attention,
Anderson let his gaze travel up into the crowd and land on me. The
breath left my lungs as he gave me a quick smile and a devilish
wink. I very nearly toppled over the railing into the pit as I went
limp with desire for that brilliant fighter, that rippling god of a
man.

My gleeful cheering turned into a scream of
terror as Maelstrom lunged toward Anderson and got a grip on his
leg. Anderson fell onto his back, taken by surprise. The second
he’d spared for me had cost him dearly. For a moment, Anderson was
blocked from sight by the sheer mass of Maelstrom falling on top of
him. But just as Erik was raising a fist to pummel that gorgeous
face, Anderson brought his legs up hard and flipped Maelstrom head
over heels into the sand. This time, Anderson didn’t hesitate. He
came down on top of Erik like a pile of bricks, pinning him to the
sand and landing blow after furious blow. Erik tried to knock
Anderson from his powerful position, but the falling punches were
too much. I watched as blood began to stream from Maelstrom’s nose
and mouth, his arms and legs moving less and less.

“Can’t he submit?” I asked Robert.

“There’s no such thing,” he answered.

I watched as Maelstrom finally fell still.
Anderson wrenched himself up off the man and raised his arms in a
gesture of victory. The crowd was raging for him, stomping and
screaming. A cry of joy escaped from my throat, even as Erik lay
bleeding in the sand. I was elated, beside myself with glee, and
all over a fight. But not just any fight, a fight where my own
personal hero had triumphed once again. Anderson circled the pit,
grinning up into the thunderous crowd. He looked like one of those
classic Greek heroes, just returned from war. He looked absolutely
invincible.

I now understood why wealthy high-born ladies
in ancient Rome used to throw themselves at victorious gladiator
slaves. How they were willing to pay exorbitant purses and
practically begged to be fucked raw by violent and animalistic
fighting champions. Anderson could have taken me right then and
there, bent over the railing in front of a thousand
onlookers…that’s how bad I wanted him in that moment.

Two men came to help the nearly unconscious
Maelstrom out of the pit, and Anderson hurried to help them get the
big fighter on his feet. The two men exchanged a brief word, and
Anderson patted Erik on the back as he was being carted out of the
pit. I felt a huge swell of pride rise in my chest. My hero wasn’t
just an excellent fighter—he was an honorable man.

As Anderson disappeared from sight into the
bowels of the stadium, I tried to take in the enormity of the
crowd’s elation. Everyone was charged with adrenaline and readying
themselves for the next fight. It was infectious, the energy. I
turned eagerly to share my excitement with Robert, but when I sat
back down and turned my attention his way, I was taken aback by his
cold expression. He was looked straight ahead over steepled
fingers, his eyes like two pieces of flint. My stomach tightened
with an unaccountable fear of this steely man.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

He didn’t even swing his gaze my way as he
said, “Oh, yes. Quite.”

“But, I don’t understand...” I said with a
hopeful smile, “He won! Anderson absolutely destroyed that guy. Did
you see the way—?”

“He was taken down,” Robert growled, “He let
that ape bring him down the ground. That is entirely
unacceptable.”

He turned toward me, gripping the arms of his
chair menacingly. I was struck silent by the rage boiling in his
blue eyes. I realized then why he was so angry—Anderson had failed
to guard against that move because he had taken an instant to look
up at me. I’d cost him that particular attack, and I could tell by
Robert’s demeanor that it had been a cardinal sin.

“I guess I should probably not be so front
and center next time,” I said feebly.

“Next time?” Robert said coldly, looking me
up and down, “Right. We’ll just have to see.”

I sat paralyzed before him, suddenly
terrified. All the warmth that Robert had shown me before the fight
had frozen over into a mask of contempt. I was about to apologize
when a huge cheer went up behind me. I turned to see Anderson
making his way to our box through the adoring crowd. I sprung up
from my seat, Robert’s anger forgotten in the face of Anderson’s
triumphant elation. We locked eyes across the milling crowd, and a
throbbing pulse of desire shot through me. Anderson kept his gaze
on me as he pushed through the excited crowd and swung into our
box. His chest was glistening with sweat, his eyes bright with the
rapture of victory. I felt my knees begin to tremble in his
presence; my entire body was riveted to his every move.

“You’re here,” he said simply, the roaring
crowd closing in around our little pen.

“Sure am,” I grinned, conscious of the
inquiring whispers that were rising up all around us. I felt a
thousand inquisitive eyes moving back and forth between us—the
champion fighter and the new girl. If underground fight clubs had
tabloids of their own, I imagined that we’d be on every cover the
next day.

“Thanks for taking care of Kaela, Rob,”
Anderson said, clapping a hand on Robert’s back. The older man
cocked an eyebrow at the fighter, his disapproval was palpable.

“Anything for you, Anderson,” Robert said,
his voice was ice cold. Anderson’s smile seemed to waver for just a
moment, but the harshness of Robert’s demeanor still wasn’t enough
to shake his joy completely.

“Want to get out of here?” Anderson asked me.
His voice had sunk lower in his register, and his muscles seemed to
be tensing in anticipation of a whole other kind of match.

“Absolutely,” I breathed, taking a step
toward him. Anderson offered me his strong hand. I took it,
stepping around Robert as fast as I could. “It was nice to meet
you,” I said to the older man as I hurried past.”

“Quite,” he answered shortly, glaring at us
as we went. I was completely perplexed by his hostility, but with
Anderson’s hand closed tightly around mine, it was hard to focus on
anything besides the deep, pulsing need that beat inside me like a
drum.

Anderson whisked me through the crowd, past
hundreds of adoring fans. A concealed door opened to us, and we
hurried through. The sounds of the roaring arena died instantly as
the door closed behind us, and the sudden quiet was startling. We
were walking down another hallway lined with doors, one of which
opened to us as we approached. A man stepped out, holding a clean
pile of clothes for Anderson to change into. I waited beside the
door as my fighter made a quick change into civilian attire and
rejoined me, leading the way further down the hallway. We turned a
quick corner and made our way through another door of the
underground labyrinth. When the door snapped behind us this time,
we were cast into the utter blackness that had greeted me upon my
arrival. The ground sloped up before us, and as we reached the end
of the hall, a door to the outside world awaited.

We stepped back out into the city, and the
red door with the silver eight closed lightly behind us. The real
world was just as it had been when I’d left, remarkably. Crowds of
nighttime revelers lounged in bars and clubs, oblivious to the
world of brutal competition and dangerous luxury that existed right
beneath them. Anderson grinned down at me and slung a heavy arm
over my shoulders.

“So?” he asked playfully, “What did you
think?”

Before I even knew what I was doing, I threw
my arms around his muscled neck and brought my mouth hungrily to
his. He met my kiss firmly, and our mouths moved together. He swung
me around on the sidewalk and pressed my back against the brick
wall. His tongue slid against mine, filling my mouth with the taste
of him. I moaned lustily, running my fingers up into his short
curls. I didn’t care that we were out in the middle of the city,
and I didn’t care that everyone could see us. I couldn’t formulate
a single thought other than that I need this, I needed Anderson.
And I needed as much of him as I could take.

He broke away from our kiss and looked at me
intently. “What do you say we get out here?” he asked, his voice
rasping with lust. I nodded, pulling him toward the curb and
flagging down a taxi as it came screeching around the corner.
Anderson waved the man on, grinning at me. “It’s taken care of,” he
said, as a black town car pulled up to the curb. Of course he had a
driver. Anderson opened the rear door for me, and we tumbled into
the back seat.

Chapter
Five

As the car took off through the city,
Anderson wrapped his thick, strong arms around me and drew me into
his lap. I pressed myself against his firm chest, brought my mouth
to the smooth skin of his neck. He groaned as I kissed him, his
fingers tightening around my hips. As I shifted my weight, I could
feel a bulging hardness move against me. I gasped at the insistent,
pulsing thickness, dizzy with wanting this hero of a man. Our gazes
locked once more, and there was no ambiguity about what that look
said.

We flew from the car the second it stopped
outside Anderson’s building. Through the lobby and into the
elevator we raced, with a knowing smile from the doorman egging us
on. The second the elevator doors snapped closed, we were on each
other once more. Anderson’s strong hands closed around my ass and
lifted me into the air. He pinned me against the elevator wall,
bringing his mouth to mine once more. I wrapped my legs around the
small of his back, moaning as his erection pressed against that
throbbing, eager place between my legs. We reached the top floor
and Anderson swung open the door to his penthouse, carrying me over
the threshold like it was nothing.

He didn’t waste a second—the momentum of our
desire carried us across the apartment, straight into the bedroom.
The space seemed transformed by our lust, the king sized bed where
I had slept so shortly before was beckoning us. Anderson laid me
out on the bed before him, drawing back to admire my form as it
twisted against the white comforter. His eyes raked along the
length of my body, leaving little tendrils of heat as they went.
There was an aching need building from the core of me to the tips
of my fingers, and only one thing that could soothe me.

Anderson followed me into bed, kneeling over
me. I could feel him hard against the warm wetness blossoming
between my legs as he closed the space between our bodies. He drew
up the hem of my tight red dress, peeling the garment up over my
stomach, my breasts, my shoulders. The dress flew across the room
as he flung it away, drinking in the sight of me beneath him in
just my bra and panties. He tore off his own tee shirt next, and I
moaned as those hard muscles were revealed to me once more. I
tugged him toward me, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

He lowered himself on top of me, and I gasped
as the firm notches of his abs, the flat panes of his chest, met my
own soft skin. My breasts pressed against his chest as I wrapped my
arms around his rippling back, our mouths meeting once again.
Anderson reached around my back and unclasped my bra with a flick
of his dexterous wrists. I felt the hard length of him against my
thigh as my bra fell away. At once, Anderson lowered his firm lips
toward my breasts, eagerly wrapping his mouth around my hard
nipple. My fingers dug into his back as he flicked his tongue
against my sensitive skin, wrapping his strong hands around my
breasts and kneading irresistibly.