Smack! Another blow hits my ass, then another. Slaps rain down on me until my skin is on fire and my entire body is trembling for release, making me forget everything—the crowd, the anxiety, the past. Keller moans his approval, his voice husky. “God you’re so fucking hot, Britt. So responsive. You want to feel alive? What you don’t know is that you have it all wrong. You make me feel alive.”
Keller reaches down between my legs and pinches my clit, twisting it, and I fall apart. Wailing, I shatter into a spectacular climax. The blunt head of Keller’s cock presses at my entrance and without warning, he slams in deep. What was merely an orgasm has now become a transcendental experience. Fast and hard, he fucks me through my climax and I swiftly peak again.
When Keller grabs my shoulders, holding tight as he fucks me, I swear I nearly black out from the pleasure. My body is floating, soaring, living. From somewhere, I hear Keller shout out his own string of obscenities as he falls over the edge, but I’m still flying too high to take much notice.
I’ve finally found someone to make me feel alive and there’s no way I’m letting him go.
8
Keller
Sweat drips off of me as I lean over Britt. For a moment, I think I’ve fucked her unconscious, but even though her eyes are closed, her pink lips curve up into a smile.
Happiness like I haven’t felt in almost a decade has me grinning like an idiot. How is it possible that this tiny, timid-looking girl, can make me feel about ten feet tall? She makes me feel… human. Fuck, just the fact that she makes me feel anything is a goddamn miracle.
I pull out and tuck my dick back into my shorts. Working fast, I unwrap her wrists, gently massaging the circulation back into them. Britt is so blissed out, she lets me manipulate her like a rag doll, her head lolling from one side to the other as I turn her over and pull her pants back up from her ankles, sliding them over her gorgeous red ass.
Britt finally comes back from wherever she’s been, blinking those big blue eyes up at me. I help her sit up, and she reaches one hand out to touch the side of my face. “Keller.”
Like the flip of a switch, the sound of my name on her lips turns my good mood dark, sending frigid blood pumping to my black, shriveled heart. I can’t stop the sneer that spreads across my face. “My name is Killer.”
Britt’s eyes narrow and her pert nose wrinkles up. Before she can argue, someone bangs loudly on the door. Neither of us can look away, sapphire versus gray, trapped in a bizarre silent standoff. I watch as a deep blush stains her cheeks and she finally drops her gaze, those long lashes brushing her skin.
“Oh god. Someone probably heard us,” she whispers. Britt pushes off the table, searching for her shirt. Finding it hanging off of a nearby bench press, she shrugs it on. The loud banging begins again. Shoulders back and head high, Britt marches over to open the door.
“Wait!” I grab her arm, not sure what just happened to change the energy between us from blazing hot to ice cold. I only know that something feels wrong. If I let the moment end like this, everything will change, and not in a way I find acceptable.
Britt stares at the spot where my hand grips her arm and flicks her gaze up to my face. An odd look flashes in her eyes, gone before I can analyze what it means.
“What do you want, Killer?” Her pretty mouth twists into a sneer as she spits out my name.
What do I want?
It’s obvious Britt wants me to let her in, to drop the mask and let her see the real me. What Britt doesn’t know is that Keller is dead and gone. Killer is the real me, he’s all that’s left in this shell of a body. I lower my hand, unable or unwilling to explain my past. It’s better Britt thinks I’m an asshole than for her to know what I truly am, what I did.
The pounding gets louder, more determined. Frustrated with myself—for hiding, for letting Britt down, for being a coward—I march over to the door and fling it open. “What the fuck do you want?”
An irate Jackson Wolfe shoves his way in, kicking the door shut behind him. His eyes are wild and his chest is heaving.
“Jack?” Britt moves closer. “Aren’t you supposed to be fighting soon?”
Wolfe’s crazy eyes flick from me to Britt and back. “What the hell were you doing to her in here, you sick fuck?” he snarls, shoving his way into my personal space.
Already agitated from the thought of losing Britt, and thrown off by her calling me by my real name, I step forward, bumping chests with Wolfe. “None of your fucking business, douchebag.”
Wolfe’s eyes widen, shocked to actually hear my voice since I almost never speak to him. He sneers, putting up his fists as if to fight me.
“Jack,” Britt jumps between us. “Are you crazy? You’ll be kicked out of the league.”
“Britt, this guy is a sick piece of shit. Can’t you see it? The thought of him touching you—”
“Is none of your business,” Britt interrupts, her voice firm.