Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
He was beautiful in a way that had to be admired.
“You said you wanted to fight…” Gage lowered his voice to a smooth, easy threat. “So let’s fight.”
Scar answered by removing his shirt.
Gage lunged, fast, controlled, and borderline disrespectful. Without warning, he hooked his cane’s shaft behind Scar’s ankles and, with a quick jerk, stole his balance.
The air punched out of him as his back slammed into the floor.
He stared up at Gage in shock as his body lit up like a fuse.
Gage stood over him, cane grasped in his hand like a Japanese spear. He tilted his head…listening. “You wanted to see what I’ve got…get up.”
Scar grinned. He was about to fucking enjoy this.
He rolled to his feet and got into position. He chose to forgo a weapon. His skills and hands were enough. He wanted up-close-and-personal combat with his partner.
Their first few exchanges were them measuring each other out.
He went for Gage’s shoulder, but he turned at an angle and slipped out of his grasp.
Gage did an instant counter, checking his wrist with the blunt end of the cane—a quick tap that wasn’t too painful but a clear warning.
He could make it hurt…if he wanted to.
Gage raised the cane, spun it around his back, and swung, but Scar caught it mid-swing, and for a split second, he had Gage’s weapon in his grip.
Gage didn’t yank or fight for it.
He stepped in, close enough that their chests brushed, and used Scar’s hold against him. He rotated the cane like a lever and pulled him into a knee that just stopped short of connecting with his stomach.
“You’re trying not to hurt me,” he said.
Gage smiled. “Nope, I’m giving you all I got.”
“Yeah right.”
“You’re not exactly fighting like you’ve been trained by Meridian.”
“Then hit me,” he growled.
Gage struck fast with a two-beat combo of cane and fist.
Scar clocked the timing, caught Gage by his wrist, and spun him until his back was against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around Gage’s waist in a way that told him he shouldn’t try to get away.
“I hear you learn fast,” he murmured, dragging his nose along the back of Gage’s neck. “Yet you still don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
Gage turned his head slightly. “Then tell me.”
Scar pressed closer.
“You’re making me want to pin you down and show you,” he said, grazing his lips along the shell of Gage’s ear.
He could smell the sweat from their moves, mixing with Gage’s unique powdery scent, which was both intoxicating and sweet.
He eased his hand along Gage’s waist and dipped his thumb under the hem of his hoodie, wanting to feel his bare skin.
And of course it was warm, silky, and inviting, as he’d assumed.
His want was like a blade twisting slowly in his stomach. Gage ignited a craving he could no longer ignore.
He tilted his hardness forward, seeking more.
As if he wasn’t that easy to take—like Roz warned—Gage turned and shot him backward with the flat of his cane against his chest.
It wasn’t enough to send him flying, but hard enough there’d be a bruise there by morning.
Scar circled, his breath even, sweat dripping down his back.
Gage tilted his head, rotating with him, tracking his every step. He thought he’d lightened them, but obviously not enough.
He tried a fake attack from the left, but Gage didn’t bite. He tried another, closer.
Gage snapped the cane up and tapped Scar’s throat with precise control, the tip touching beside his pulse before pulling away.
Scar’s arousal spiked in betrayal.
He knew Gage was pulling his punches, but he didn’t want him to, he wanted Gage to hurt him. Wanted him to make him pay—in bed—for all the times he’d given him hell when they were on the block.
Gage threw him a sly smile. “Your thoughts are loud.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
Gage didn’t pause. “I am.”
Scar surged in.
They collided chest to chest, both hands on each other now, not fighting, but testing weight, heat, and dominance.
Gage spun the cane low around his hips and snapped it into a tight block, the motion too smooth to read until it was already there.
Scar thought he had the cane timed, but he missed the lunge as Gage rolled his weapon over his right shoulder and re-caught it higher on the shaft, changing reach and angle without giving Scar a chance to reset.
Gage pivoted to Scar’s blind side and did some fancy-ass footwork that had him chasing air.
He surged into empty space, and when he turned, Gage was already at his back with his cane threaded across his throat, applying just enough pressure to make the point without choking him.
Gage’s breath warmed the nape of his neck as he held him tightly in place.
“Where’d you learn that?” Scar asked.
“Mirage is a good teacher.” Gage hummed, low and sensual.
Scar tried to turn, but Gage was already gone, the cane flashing between them before it shrunk down to the size of a relay baton.