Free Against the Ropes by Sarah Castille Page A

kneels between my legs. The position leaves me vulnerable, exposed. Shivers of need course down my spine.
    Jimmy sits to the side and Torment talks us through the move. He is so damn sexy when he’s teaching. Confident, assured, knowledgeable, and patient. He explains he is going to mount me. Yes! And take a dominant position. Oh, yes! Then, once I have him in a triangle, he’ll show Jimmy how to defend.
    My brain fuzzes with lust.
    His gaze catches mine. My cheeks flame. For the longest time, he studies me and then his eyes widen, as if he had just seen into my hidden depths—the pounding of my heart, the sheen of sweat on my skin, the wetness between my thighs. His eyes shutter and his jaw tightens.
    “Are you okay there?”
    Words fail me. “Mmmhmm.”
    “Right then. I’m going to mount you now.”
    Oh God.
    He mounts me.
    I bite right through my lip. The sharp tang of blood flows over my tongue.
    Torment lies on top of me, his knees pressed tight against my hips, his elbows snug against my ears. I lock his head between my arms the way he explained, tilting it and pressing his face down to my breasts. His warm, heavy body covers me, holds me, encloses me. His breath is hot on my neck. His hair is soft between my fingers. It is the most erotic experience I have ever had, and from the state of affairs pressed up against my sex, I would venture to say it might rank with Torment’s top experiences too.
    He lifts his head and his eyes blaze with sensual fire. “This may not have been the best idea.” His voice is low and husky, thick with need.
    “Maybe not,” I whisper.
    “Now what?” Jimmy interjects. “How do you get out of it?”
    “I don’t think I want to get out of it,” Torment murmurs. His mouth hovers only an inch above mine, his breath dusting sweet promises over my lips.
    Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.
    “What the hell are you doing?” A woman’s shriek breaks the spell.
    I twist my head back and catch a flash of pink and a mane of golden hair.
    Pinkaluscious. And she doesn’t look pleased.
    “We’re practicing grappling techniques,” Jimmy says as if Torment and I were not smoldering beside him. “You’re welcome to join us. I could use a partner.”
    “Not you. Him. It looks like he’s having sex with her.”
    Torment closes his eyes briefly and sighs. Then he pushes himself back to his knees. I shiver at the loss of his warmth.
    “What do you want, Sandy?” Torment stands up and joins her at the edge of the mat.
    I roll out of my compromising position and kneel on the mat beside Jimmy. Sandy’s glare turns my blood to ice.
    “I need to talk to you.”
    “You can see we’re busy.”
    “With her?” She shoots me another glare so I shoot one back.
    “With Blade Saw. Makayla is just helping us out.”
    She winds her arms around his neck and presses herself up against him. “I need you,” she whinny whines.
    He lifts her arms away and his voice takes on a soft, gentle tone. “Not now, Sandy.”
    Not now? Not now implies what she’s doing is okay later. Not now means not in front of Makayla. Not now means not ever for me.
    Pinkaluscious’s long, brown lashes fan over her rosy cheeks. She blinks her big, brown Bambi eyes at him and whispers, “Please. It’s important.”
    Torment tightens his lips and gives her a curt nod. “Five minutes…if that works for Blade Saw and Makayla. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”
    We both nod our assent. Jimmy because he’s an easygoing guy. Me because my mouth has gone dry.
    “Thank you.” She stands on tiptoe and brushes her lips over his, before clasping his hand and leading him to the door. Jimmy jumps up and follows behind them.
    Nausea cramps my stomach, and I choke back a snort.
    The sound draws her attention. Her eyes flick to mine and she looks me up and down, lingering over my physical imperfections as only a woman can do. She laughs, tosses her mane, and then trots away taking my hopes and dreams with her.
    “Who is that?”