Jonah’s brooding is directed at his boss. Mr. Gibbs smirks at me and releases my hand. I bring it immediately to Jonah’s abdomen, hoping that the touch will help shake the creepy from my hand.
Mr. Gibbs starts in with Jonah about who he needs to touch base with at the party when a man walks up behind him. He’s as big as Jonah in height and width, but where Jonah’s ferocity is inviting, this man’s is terrifying. He has dark hair and eyes that look almost black. His face is held in a permanent scowl with a scar over his left eye and one at his chin. He stalks toward us with the grace of a rhino.
“Well, if it isn’t my own personal punching bag,” he says, glaring at Jonah.
Jonah’s grip tightens. “Del Toro. I thought they only allowed civilized people into this place. Not knuckle-dragging chimps like you.”
Mr. Gibbs moves between the fighters. “Save it for the octagon, guys. No need to make a scene in front of the lovely Raven.”
Del Toro’s eyes swing to me and his head tilts to the side. He studies my face and a small smile tips his lips. His expression is animalistic, but not a chimp like Jonah chided. He looks more like a hungry lion.
Now I know what it feels like to be a zebra on the Serengeti.
“Raven, when you get bored with this loser, I’ll show you how a champion does it.” He steps forward, causing Mr. Gibbs to use his shoulder to keep him back.
Jonah growls so deeply that I feel it before I hear it. His eyes fix on Del Toro in the death stare to end all death stares. “You fucking talk to her again I’ll put you in a coma right here.”
Energy from years of animosity rolls off of them in waves. Jonah’s jaw is tense, his icy glare fixed, and his fists balled at his sides. He’s about to lose it. I can’t let that happen.
I put on my sweetest smile and step in front of Jonah, placing myself directly between two of the biggest men I’ve ever seen. “You must be Victor Del Toro. Jonah’s told me all about you. Six years as the Heavyweight Champion.” I whistle through my teeth. “That’s impressive.”
Blinking, Del Toro takes his eyes from a seething Jonah and sets them on me. His face visibly relaxes, but not by much.
“Yeah, it’s impressive, and I don’t plan on giving up the title anytime soon.”
“No, of course not.” I bat at him with a girlie giggle that’s so sweet it makes Del Toro smile. Great. It’s working. “About your offer, I can promise you I’ll never get bored with Jonah. But thank you for the compliment.”
“You let me know if you change your mind, sweetheart.” He glares at Jonah one last time and walks away.
There’s a collective sigh of relief from two of the three people left. Jonah’s still seething, but at least his fists are no longer clenched.
“Wow, you have a gift. I’ve never seen anyone who can talk down testosterone-fueled fighters that quickly. Must be those eyes.” Mr. Gibbs winks at me before excusing himself.
Once he’s gone, I turn to a still-frozen Jonah. Pressing my body to the length of his, I slide my hands around his neck. His eyes are unfocused, clinging to the edge of self-control.
“Hey. You okay?”
He makes a sound that’s half grunt half groan. Hm. Not okay. I need to try a different tactic.
I press my breasts against his chest and kiss his chin. This gets me his eyes. Progress.
Making my way from there, I brush my lips against his jaw line slowly, allowing him to feel my breath on his face. His arms wrap around my waist, and his thumbs rub circles on the exposed skin at my back. Now we’re getting somewhere.
I kiss below his ear. “You okay?”
“Better.”
I lean away, but keep my hands locked behind his neck. “That was intense.”
“I want to beat that guy’s ass. I swear, Raven, I don’t regret making that deal with Dominick. I’d do it a million times over,” he whispers. “But, I’m really, really looking forward to beating the shit out of that asshole when I get another opportunity.”
I try to comfort him with a smile, but it feels off. My chest aches. Guilt wars with gratitude. How can I do this to him? How can I not?
This must be torture: all this talk about being the next Heavyweight Champion, his undefeated record, and Del Toro antagonizing him. Instead of going out there on fight night, doing what comes naturally, he has to play possum.
I’m grateful for his sacrifice, but I didn’t anticipate how much he would suffer. Turn his back on his instincts. Push down his nature. All for me.
I pull away and he releases me from his hold. His eyes roam the room casually, unaware of the internal struggle his words induced.
My lungs are tight. I can’t breathe. The weight of all that’s happened presses in from all angles. I turn to a nearby table and lean heavy against the chair. I knew what he was giving up on a hypothetical level, but seeing it with my own eyes, feeling the aggression electrifying the space between them, just made this real.