Chapter 22

Anya cast a wicked look over the top of her hand, blew on her dice, and tossed them onto the table. She waited breathlessly. Everyone else watched to see how the dice would land, but her eyes were sweeping the casino for any sight of the spiky blond giant she'd come for.
"Pair of fours," said the dealer.
Anya grinned and accepted congratulations from the tipsy cowboy who had glued himself to her side early in the evening. She had been steadily winning at the craps table, but not so much at her goal for the evening. Ash hadn't made an appearance yet. She was beginning to wonder if he'd seen her and decided to ignore her, or if his boss had sent him on another errand. Khalid had many interests in the city. Ash could have been at any of those other establishments, acting as the boss man's enforcer.
Anya felt a hand slide under her very short skirt and squeeze her nearly bare ass. She sighed and, without turning, said as calmly as she could, "You're going to want to remove that hand, buddy. Because if I have to remove it, you'll be going to the hospital to get it reattached."
"Blarrgggggghhhhh," was the only response to her threat.
Anya turned, surprise etching her features when she saw the man kneeling on the carpet, face twisted in pain. Ash towered over him, crushing the guy's fingers in a lethal grip. Ash glared down at Anya, barely paying the whimpering cowboy any notice.
"Oh hey," she said to the angry blond giant, then rolled her eyes at herself. Really clever, Anya.
But geez, did the guy have to look so angry? It's a free country. A girl could walk into a casino without causing a scene if she felt like it. He was pretty super hot when his eyebrows were glowering like that.
"What are you doing here?" he gritted.
And there went her hopes that he might be happy to see her.
Huffing a little, Anya tossed her blue tipped hair over one shoulder and turned back to the table.
"Winning," she said pointedly.
Before she could toss the dice, he had her upper arm and was pulling her back from the table. He nodded at the dealer. Anya stumbled against the guy kneeling at their feet, knocking his cowboy hat to the floor.
"Oh, sorry," she mumbled to the man whose face was twisted in pain. To Ash she said, "You can let the guy go now, Hulk. I think he's learned a lesson."
Ash stared icily at the guy. She was pretty sure, if it were socially acceptable, he would have broken the guy's fingers right there at the table. Anya would be lying if she said she didn't feel a little bit tingly over his caveman attitude. She wanted to ask if it was her in particular, or just women in general that made him go all protective, but she figured this wasn't the time.
Ash let the guy go and growled, "Out." The guy immediately jumped to his feet and booked it out of the casino as fast as he could. Anya felt sorry for the man. He really had been cute, in a puppyish way. Not her type, but she would have let him flirt. Once he had removed his hand from her ass that is.
"Why are you here causing trouble in my place of work?" Ash asked, dragging her through the casino.
"You're kind of an ass, you know that?" she replied.
"Excuse me if I'm not feeling particularly charitable, Anya," he snorted. "Last time I saw you, I had to take a half hour cold shower to get over the experience."
Anya went all dreamy remembering what he looked like naked and dripping.
"Fuck," he said, "don't look at me like that woman, we're in public."
"Maybe we should go somewhere more private then?" she suggested, wondering what the hell happened to her normal ball-busting self and where this saucy minx had come from.
Ash needed no prodding. Still holding her arm, he steered her toward an elevator bank. Anya was nearly panting by the time they got there. In the elevator he punched the button to the fifth floor and whipped out his cell phone to send a text. When he finished he turned and looked down at her with smouldering eyes.
"This time you don't get to run."
She clicked her tongue at him, never more aware of their height difference. She had worn her customary combat boots, but wished she'd worn heels. Normally she hated feeling tiny, but for now she enjoyed the view too much to really complain.
"Oh big man, you do flatter yourself," she smiled snidely. "I simply want to talk business."
He looked her up and down and grinned. "You sure don't look dressed for a business meeting, Miss?"
She ignored his fishing expedition and snapped, "Sexist! I can wear whatever the hell I want. Doesn't mean I'm looking to be attacked by a giant loser."
His grin turned slightly feral. "You got a mouth on you, woman."
"Oh, and I suppose you'd like to tame me? Oh oh! Or maybe put my mouth to better use?" she snapped back. "Yeah, never heard that before."
He growled and reached for her. She slapped his hand. "Seriously, Ash, business first. Then maybe we can talk about us."
He frowned, but maintained his distance, for now. They arrived on the fifth floor where he guided her off the elevator in front of him. She followed him down the hall and waited while he opened the door and escorted her into a room that was clearly a hotel room, but also noticeably used as a residence. Did he live there? Or was he at work so much that he needed a room in the hotel when he couldn't go home?
"Get on with it," he said, sitting down on the couch with legs spread wide and arms stretched out across the back. "What business can you possibly have with me?"
Anya swallowed. When he looked like that, all sprawled out like a big lazy tiger, she wanted to jump on him and lick him all over. Starting at the collar of the dress shirt, worn under a suit jacket, where the tendons of his thick neck strained, down his gorgeously ripped chest and ending by slowly unzipping his jeans and licking
Speaking of cold showers.
Anya sort of resented the knowing smirk Ash was giving her. If he wasn't careful, she'd take a kneeling leap at the part of his anatomy she was considering bathing with her tongue. Dude just didn't know how to stay on her good side. She decided to play with him a little, just to get him as revved up as she had become.
Pulling out a stool from the kitchen bar, she perched on it, her booted feet hooked in the rung. Licking her purple tinted lips, she crossed her legs and sat at an angle that gave Ash a clear view of where the skirt rode up her thigh. She enjoyed the instantaneous stiffening of his body and the way his eyes flew to her legs and stayed.
"I heard you might be looking for a new sponsor," she said.
"Uh huh." His voice clearly stated that he didn't give a flying fuck about fighting at the moment.
She squirmed, feeling the skirt slide up even more, and leaned back against the bar. "Focus, boy," she said huskily, "this really is a business proposition."
He shrugged. "So you keep saying."
She sighed. He really could be such an asshole. "Are you, or are you not for sale?" she snapped.
"Only to the right bidder," he replied.
She nodded. "And who exactly would the right bidder be?"
He snorted. "Definitely not a little girl that likes to play games with the big boys."
Anya's temper soared. She had to remind herself to remain seated and do a little business before making him pay for every snide remark he made about her. "Can you please be serious for a moment?"
He stood and stalked over to her, his big body moving surprisingly fast for having so much muscle. Anya made the mistake of uncrossing her legs and trying to hop off the stool to keep from being trapped. She had only enough time to uncross her legs before he was right in front of her, crowding her back on the stool and forcing her legs to part in order to accommodate his hips. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of her.
"Okay," he said. "Lets get serious."
Oh. Fuck.
She could feel the heat of his big body engulfing her. She thought she was going to burst into flames. The roughness of his jean-clad hips pressed against the softness of her inner thighs. She sucked in air through her nose and nearly grew dizzy from the delicious scent of him. He smelled warm and inviting, like sandalwood with a hint of his underlying natural fragrance. It was a damn good thing he had her so completely trapped, because she might have melted into a puddle on the floor if he wasn't holding her up.
She tilted her head back and tried to stop her body from moving the few inches it would take to mould her crotch against him.
"Why'd you run from me baby?" he asked in his deep, sexy voice. He hunched his shoulders, dropped his head down to her shoulder and grazed her skin with his lips.
Anya's breath caught in her throat at the light contact. A shiver ran down her spine. Her voice wasn't nearly as strong as she hoped it might be when she finally spoke. "Negotiate with me."
His lips trailed across the arch of neck and up to her jaw, then back down. He lightly teased the speeding pulse point with his tongue. "Fine," he agreed. "Tell me why you took off after the fight, then I negotiate."
Breathless gasps escaped her as he backed up just enough to drop his lips onto the top of her cleavage. She should be shoving him back, demanding he take his hands off her and talk serious business. Instead she wanted to wrap herself around him so tightly he'd be branded into her skin.
"I was pissed, that's why I left."
"Yeah," he snorted. "I know you were pissed. Why?"
She wanted to get a little space, suddenly feeling vulnerable, but instead he tightened his arms against her as though sensing she might flee again. "I'm just not used to being touched like that."
He froze. "Fuck! You're a virgin?"
"No, idiot," she snickered. "I'm not a virgin. I mean I've never"
It took him a minute to figure out what she wasn't saying. "Oh, you never came like that before?"
"Not with a with a partner. Only on my own," she agreed, enjoying the erotic play of his lips over her sensitized skin.
"You must be dating assholes."
That was none of his business, she thought, but just shrugged. "Now can we talk business?"
"You are one focused woman, baby," he said, using his teeth a little more forcefully, taking tiny nips at her skin. "Fine, talk."
Forcing her brain to work, she whispered, "I can offer $8,000 per fight plus a $25,000 signing bonus. We'd sign you for a guaranteed four fights. If you became a winning bet, we'd renegotiate for more. The bonus can be transferred to your account as soon as tomorrow if you agree to sign."
He stiffened against her, his lips stopped moving on her skin and then he jerked back to look at her. He looked angry. The muscles in his arms bulged against the fabric of his shirt and the tendons in his neck popped out. She was still trapped against the counter.
Her heart sunk. Well, at least he was taking her seriously now.
"Who the fuck are you?" he snapped. "And don't give me any bullshit nickname, Anya, who I've never seen or heard of before. I know all the players in this game and you aren't one of them. I don't take well to surprises. Not when it comes to an illegal fight contract."
She laughed. "You think I'm a cop or something?" She couldn't imagine anything more ridiculous. If this guy only knew her a little better, he would know how laughable that was.
"You want to search me for a badge?" she asked flirtatiously, toying with the edge of her skirt.
He continued to look annoyed, though his eyes strayed to her thigh. "I don't know who the fuck you are, that's what I'm saying. You're trying to tell me that my dream woman happens to walk into that change room out of nowhere because she needs a fighter? I don't buy it," he snapped angrily. "Start talking."
Frustration flickered across her face. "You are such a jackass!" She shoved at his chest to get more space. Now that sexy time seemed to be over, she didn't want the angry, hulking giant in her space.
He grabbed her wrists and, spinning the stool around, crowded her into the counter. She gasped and tried to tug her hands back, but he easily held them in one of his massive paws. He tangled the fingers of his other hand in her hair and pulled her head back. He held her that way for a minute, both of them breathing heavily. As though he couldn't resist, he dropped his head into her neck and licked her.
"Fuck, you taste like you fucking smell. So goddamn good." He inhaled and continued to hold her tightly. He was still annoyed, but it was warring with the sexual tension rolling off of them in waves.
"Not letting you go this time," he muttered against her skin.
She shivered, streaks of pleasure racing through her body. "Please, Ash, just listen to me," she gasped. "I'm legit. I represent someone you'd recognize, but he sent me to negotiate because he can't be seen here."
"Who?" he demanded, his tongue and lips still playing across her skin. He used his hand in her hair to move her head, like a dolls, to gain access to other parts of her skin.
"I can't say," she moaned, sliding her body backwards into the cradle of his to maximize their contact. "Not until we've negotiated. Then he'll agree to a sit down in a location of his choosing."
Ash lightly bit down on the lobe of her ear, causing her to nearly jump out of the chair. "I negotiate, not sign," he stressed, "and you tell me who you work for?"
"Yes!"
His kisses became more distracted as he clearly thought over her offer. Finally, after what felt like hours, he said, "I'd take $10,000 per fight and a $50,000 signing bonus. I can agree to renegotiation after I win the four fights. And we meet in a public place. You have to be there too."
She nodded. "Done."
He went still against her back and then chuckled darkly. "You suck at negotiating, baby."
"Actually," she snickered, "I had permission to go as high as $12,000 per fight with a $65,000 signing bonus."
"You're going to pay for that!" He nipped her ear. "Now tell me who your boss is?"
"Okay," she agreed, her breath coming out in a gasp. "After"
"After what?" he growled.
"After you fuck me, Ash. I can't wait any longer!"