“I know that, but she can still help me with aesthetics.”
Noelle was watching him like she was afraid he’d eat her if he opened his mouth, which was pretty damn shy for a girl who’d ridden Jasper’s finger to ear-splitting orgasm only a few feet away from him the previous night.
Maybe Jas was right. Maybe the girl was another Rachel, not another Lex. Bottled up and repressed. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease them both the same way. “You saw her flowers, Noelle?”
The brunette nodded. “They’re beautiful.”
“Damn right they are.” A woman lost in a sensual haze in his chair always inspired him to impressive feats of artistry. “I could always extend them. Vines around her waist or down her arms. Flowers just above her cuffs.”
“Around my hips, maybe.” Rachel slid her hands from the small of her back all the way around to her upper thighs.
Christ, he’d have his face practically in her pussy. “What do you think, princess?”
“I think it sounds beautiful.” Noelle narrowed her eyes, her tone stiff and prim. “And I’m not a princess.”
“Oooh, feisty.” Ace poked Rachel in the side. “You teaching her to use her teeth, Rae? And after Lex spent all that time teaching her not to use them.”
“An angel and a devil,” Rachel murmured. “One on each shoulder, huh?”
If he didn’t know better, he’d think Rachel was sneaking a peek at his dick. Let her see how hard he got when he reached out to tangle a lock of her blonde hair around his finger. He tugged, not looking away from her face even as he addressed Noelle. “Rachel here is our good girl. But she’d be wasting her time whispering in your ear, princess. I think you already know you want to be very, very bad.”
Rachel licked her lips. “Maybe every woman does if you can figure out what turns her on.”
Even angels. Even her. “Fix my generator, Rachel, and you can have any tattoo you want.”
She arched an eyebrow and held out her hand. “Deal.”
Ace folded his hand around hers with an easy smile. Jasper and the other lumbering hulks could chase after the baby deer in the woods. There was no challenge in that hunt. No satisfaction.
He knew how to take his time.
Chapter Seven
Dom went down with the second blow, and Jasper supposed it was too much to ask for him to stay there.
He didn’t really want it anyway. His whole body was tight, jittery, and even the run out to Sector Three had provided no satisfaction. Quiet, uneventful, and now he had to sate his appetites on nothing more rewarding than Dom’s face.
Jas had been in worse spots.
Dom spit blood as he staggered back to his feet, uglier for taking the hit. His insults hadn’t gotten any more original, either. “You punch like a pussy.”
“Hard enough to put you on the mat.” Jas stretched his neck and circled, not bothering to guard with his fists and arms as he faced the other man. A matter of time, that was all, and he’d lunge in, desperate to land a punch on an unprotected area.
“Gave you that one,” Dom lied, feinting left with a quick jab. “Figured I’d let you hit something, since you can’t get it up for that that sweet city ass.”
“Christ, is that your game? Bore me to death because you punch like a little boy?”
Dom rose to the bait, charging toward him with a bellow. His hook came slow, so slow the man wasn’t just telegraphing his moves, he was sitting down to write them fucking love letters. Jas took the hit, using the distraction to drive a fist into Dom’s midsection.
When he doubled over, wheezing, Jas grabbed Dom’s hair and kneed him in the face. Bone cracked, and he hit the ground again, blood gushing from his broken nose.
Jas kicked him for good measure, a light tap to the ribs. “You’re not even trying, man. Get up.”
That brought the man to his feet again, snarling and rabid. He lunged forward and rammed Jasper against the side of the cage, and the watching crowd roared.
Still no match for straight-up brute strength. They grappled, and Jas lifted Dom off his feet and slammed him to the mat with a growl. Dom drove his knee into Jas’s hip and tried to roll them, but he couldn’t get the leverage.
Neither of them wore shirts, so Jas grabbed at Dom’s hair again instead of sweat-slick skin. “You better tap out before I pound your fucking face in, shithead. I’m in a mood.”
Dom tried to twist and then slapped his open palm on the mat with a snarl. “You fucking fucker.”
Jas considered pressing a foot to the man’s throat, just to teach him a lesson, but backed off. “You’re welcome.”
“Fuck off, Jas.” Dom pressed a hand to his bleeding face and rolled to his knees. “Next time, I’m smearing you all over this mat.”
“You’re gonna try.” A redhead—one of the dancers, maybe—opened the cage door and offered Jas a towel and a smile as he walked out. Noelle, on the other hand, stood at the fringes of the cheering crowd, a beer in one hand and a bewildered look on her face.
If that had been all, Jas would have kept walking. But a fire burned in those big eyes—admiration and even pride, but not fear.
He took the beer from her hand and drained it. “Like the show?”
“It was…” Her fingers hovered over his chest before brushing the spot where Dom’s fist had abraded his skin. Worry creased her brow, along with something darker. An edge, possessive and angry. “You must have let him hit you. I saw how fast you can move.”
He caught her hand, pressed it to his skin. “It doesn’t hurt for long.” Unlike the rest of him, which was throbbing thanks to her simple touch.
As if the words gave her permission, she smoothed her other palm up his side, fingers slicking over his bare chest, past his new tattoo and up to his shoulder. “You’re so strong,” she whispered, tracing his biceps with something damn close to reverence. “Powerful. Raw.”
“Hungry.” He didn’t even look at the throngs of people milling around them. “You keep touching, and I’m bound to think you want to do more.”
Her touch drifted lower. Over the curve of his elbow and along his forearm. “Like what?”
He slipped his hand into her hair. “Like try out some of the stuff Lex showed you.”
She licked her lips like she could already taste him, and her sharp breath made it clear she wanted to. “Right here? In front of everyone?”
If he said no, she’d pout. If he said no, his own body would murder him in his sleep. Jas untied the top of the new leather corset she’d bought from Stuart and dropped to the nearest free couch. “Show me.”
A few people turned to stare, but that didn’t stop Noelle from kneeling between his legs, breathing so hard her tits were damn close to spilling out of her top entirely. She smoothed her palms up his thighs and rested her fingers on his belt. “Rachel said you never lose a fight.”
“I never have.” He caught her chin. “Is this my reward?”
She inhaled sharply. “Would it be a reward?”
“To come in your mouth?” Jas eased the top of her corset down a fraction of an inch, but it was far enough for one luscious pink nipple to spill out. “Hell yeah. Unless you want me to come somewhere else instead?”
“Where?” She fumbled with his belt buckle, her expression an endearing mixture of frustrated impatience and anticipation.
He tweaked her nipple with just a hint of pressure. “Your tits?” He moved his hand to her mouth, a lingering brush of his thumb over her lower lip. “All over this pretty face?”
Her movements stilled as she whispered against the pad of his thumb. “You’d like that?”
It was like the ink—no one would wonder who she belonged to, or what would happen if they tried to touch her. “It’s sexy when a woman lets you come on her. Sexier when she likes it.”