Beyond Control by Kit Rocha

Author:Kit Rocha [Rocha, Kit]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Adult
ISBN: 9781482770148
Publisher: Createspace
Published: 2013-03-14T08:00:00+00:00

Six

It wasn't until they were standing across from each other, seconds from throwing their first punches, that Six realized she'd missed Bren.

She'd expected to miss things about him. The security he represented, for starters, both physical and mental. Bren had never been gentle with her, not from that first moment, when he'd wrestled her into submission and shoved a gag between her teeth at Dallas's orders. But he hadn't been rough, either, just been blandly impersonal and efficient. The honesty in that detached competence had soothed her in a way none of Dallas's soft-spoken promises of safety ever could.

She'd expected to miss the way men averted their eyes when she tagged along behind Bren. She'd expected to miss knowing that he'd be a silent wall between her and the rest of the gang, with their curious eyes and their friendly, puppy-dog eagerness. She'd even expected to miss these sessions, the chance to burn through her lingering rage and learn at the same time.

She hadn't expected this weird, tight feeling in her chest, and how much worse it got when he smiled.

Hell, she'd missed him. A lot.

One of those smiles curved his lips now. "You're pulling your punches. Afraid you're going to mess up my pretty face?"

He didn't have a pretty face, not like some of the men. Mad and Ace and even Dallas, when he wasn't scowling. Bren's face was rough, all flat, hard lines and crooked angles, like a dozen bar fights had already tried to mess it up but had only made it more appealing.

Appealing. Fuck, she was obsessing over his crooked nose like some soft city idiot. Six tried to summon her usual glower, but it felt wrong, because the corners of her mouth kept fighting to pull up. "Someone beat me to it."

"Pun intended?" He lunged then, grabbing her hand and spinning in an attempt to twist her arm up behind her back. Pivoting with him, she attempted to break his grip by rotating her wrist, but he knew how to press close and kill the leverage she needed. So she kept going, twirling in a dizzy circle as she shifted her balance and freed up one heel to drive toward his ankle.

He caught her leg with his other arm, hooking his elbow under her knee and pulling it high. Pulling her off balance.

Christ, he was fast. Squirming only toppled her back against his chest, and her only play there was the back of her head against his nose.

So she took it.

"Fuck." He released her and stumbled back, his hiss of pain turning into a laugh. "That hurt, sweetheart."

"You should have stopped me," she chided, uncomfortable with the flutter of worry in her stomach. She turned to examine his face, but he was smiling through the thin trickle of blood trailing from one nostril.

"I deserved it," he said simply.

"Yeah, a little." Her skin still prickled with awareness, the heightened sense of focus that always came with a fight. She could feel his phantom warmth at her back, the memory of his chest, pressed tight against her, and she hated how much she missed that.

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