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“Oh, I’m going to lick something.”

The minute the words were out, I knew they were a mistake, because steely determination settled over his face. I had given him the motivation to end this fight quickly. Kenji rushed forward for a takedown. My forearms dug into his shoulders in an attempt to sprawl, but he was like a wild animal, and his arms reached out and grabbed a hold of the back of my thighs and yanked me forward.

The movement left me with no other choice than to wrap my legs around his waist. He rushed forward, pinning me against the cage. His breath fanned across my face. “I am so fucking turned on right now, Scar. Where the fuck was a woman like you hiding?”

He didn’t give me a chance to answer as he slammed his lips on mine, diving his tongue inside. Claiming me in front of the crowd of people. His hands kneaded my ass as he flipped us around so his back was to the cage. Our kisses were as brutal as our fight, tongues lashing out as we nipped and bit. I was so lost in lust that I barely felt the two taps he gave my ass.

I didn’t even fucking care that he’d thrown the fight. Nothing mattered other than this man.

CHAPTER 30

KENJI

I’LL SINK TO MY KNEES FOR HER LIKE A GOOD BOY

She was a goddamned enigma.

When we’d gotten here, I wasn’t sure why she seemed so comfortable around the fights. I would never have fucking guessed that she trained with the Dagestani. A shiver of excitement shot down my spine, straight to my balls.

It was a good thing my sweatpants were back on, because otherwise, everyone would get an eyeful of my cock free of charge.

My eyes cut to her. There’d never been a woman I wanted to be thrown around by. But this violent Italian?

“Your dick’s getting hard, Kenji. Imagining my tits?” she asked without meeting my eyes.

I leaned over, not wanting the two men we were following down a low-lit hall to hear me. “No, I’m thinking about sinking to my knees and lapping up that cunt like a good fucking boy,” I whispered, my hand shooting out to steady her as she lost her balance.

Fighting and fucking went hand in hand, and I was pissed that we had this meeting because I wanted to be balls-deep in her so badly. The fantasy was broken when the office door was pulled open.

Stay on track, Kenji. You can rail her after.

She pushed in front of me, walking in like she was familiar with the space. And after what happened in the ring, it was clear she was.

“Scar, there are other ways of getting Zabit to get his knee fixed that don’t include you fucking me out of a shit ton of cash.”

I bristled at Magomed’s words. We needed him to agree to our plan; otherwise, we’d be fucked. Pissing him off by taking his money wasn’t a good start to this potential partnership. But as I came to stand beside Scar, I noticed his eyes twinkled with what looked like affection. Which, of course, had my mood doing a one-eighty. I no longer wanted to work with the fucker; skewering the man sounded like a better idea.

Scar plopped onto the worn leather sofa that faced the desk, tucking her feet under her as she made herself comfortable. A stark contrast to the way I made sure to stay standing in case they decided to attack.

“If I recall, I suggested he get that fixed months ago. Yet here we are, and the idiot is still fighting on it. You’re lucky I was cornering his opponent,” she responded, wagging a finger at Magomed as if he were a petulant child and not a notoriously vicious crime lord.

Toffee-colored eyes cut over to me with the mention of the fight. The warmth they held for Scar leeched out when we made contact. He was probably used to that stare making men cower.

“Yes.” The word was wrapped in suspicion. “I was told you wanted a meeting,” he said, his attention back on Scar.

“I wanted the meeting.” The words came out harsher than intended as my fists clenched at my sides. Thankfully, the pain of broken skin stretching over my knuckles cleared my mind. I needed to remember that a positive outcome was essential.

He tensed at my reply, his knuckles whitening as he folded his hands like he was restraining himself from retaliating against my tone. With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, feigning being comfortable, but the tension in his shoulders told a different story.

“Well, you have one now. What is it you want?”

“He wants to know how you’d like to be under a new regime,” Scar answered for me.

A vicious glee radiated from Magomed’s eyes. He liked the idea of not answering to the Irish pricks that controlled this area. His head swung to me, interest burning in his face. A jagged scar cut from his eyebrow down to the corner of his mouth, and his nose was flat, clearly having been broken before. One look at his blocked ears let anyone know he’d been in many brawls over the course of his life. His steepled hands hit the desk as he leaned in close.

“So the rumors are true. The spare heirs have committed treason against their own blood.” A dry laugh followed his words.

“Кровь ничего не решает,” I spat out. His thick brows hit his hairline in surprise at the Russian I’d spoken.