Poison Throne: A Dark College Romance(34)

Jordan shrugged. "You easily could have caught an elbow to the face during one of the matches today. No one would question you being bruised up." He said it so fucking casually, but the wink he shot me was pure evil.

I read between the lines there. He wanted me to hand Rafe his ass and punch holes all through that inflated ego of his. Well, luckily I was in the mood to give Jordy what he wanted.

This time when Rafe's stance shifted to argue with Jordan's rules, I saw my opening. This wasn't a trap anymore, it was an actual opportunity to catch him unawares.

"That's unfair," Rafe protested. Not because he had a problem with not punching me in the face, but because he wanted us both handicapped in the same way. Had to love a boy that was all for equal injury opportunity regardless of sex. "You know she'll use—"

Smack.

His words cut off with a whoosh of breath as my kick caught him right in the abdomen and knocked the air from his lungs.

Jordan snickered an evil laugh. I flashed him a grin, but that was all the time I had. Rafe hadn't earned his name in the fight rings for his good looks. He was lethal, and that had been a lucky shot.

Blow for blow, we matched each other flawlessly as our fight took on a more serious tone. Neither one of us was willing to lose; we were both too pigheaded to concede defeat to the other. Thank fuck we had Jordan to mellow us both out, or Rafe and I wouldn't last a week as a real couple.

"Careful," I taunted Rafe when his fist narrowly missed my cheek. Sometimes our ingrained fight training took over, and he probably hadn't even known he was going to throw that fist until it was in motion. "If you break Jordy's rules, it'll be you getting spanked later."

An evil smile curled Rafe's lips, and he huffed a laugh as he bounced from foot to foot, his hands up in a mirror image of me. Neither of us wore gloves or even tape. Neither of us used weapons, either, because as badly as I wanted to metaphorically kill Rafe, I didn't want to literally kill him. He was way too good in bed, so I wanted to keep him around.

Oh yeah, and I was a little bit in love with his infuriating ass.

Fine. A lot in love.

Fucker.

"You say that like spanking is the worst that might happen to you, Violence. But we both know I'm more creative than that." His sapphire blue eyes sparkled with anticipation, and my stomach flipped. Maybe I wanted to lose after all.

He took my moment of hesitation as weakness, but I'd played this game too many times to allow that to happen. Being underestimated because I was a chick was deliciously perfect.

Being underestimated because my opponent thought my vagina was the brains of the operation... even fucking better.

His flip kick was designed to send me flying and, no doubt, end the fight immediately. Dropping to my knees as his powerful leg swung toward me gave me the perfect angle to power drive my fists, one after another, into his ribs as he crossed above me.

Once set in motion, the boy had no choice but to continue, and he'd thought me too distracted to react.

"You see," I said, when Rafe rolled over and was back on his feet in a second. "My speed is unmatched. Along with my reflexes. It was learn quick or die—"

His hand dropped to his ribs, and he looked impressed. "It's been ten years since someone has landed a hit like that on me," he said, and it was clear that the fire in his eyes now had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with us and this flame of attraction that had sparked to life long before either one of us were willing to admit it.

"We're evenly matched," I noted, and for once, he didn't disagree.

"We are equal partners," he replied, taking a step closer, showing not an ounce of discomfort, even though his ribs had to be killing him. "When you disappear on your stupid suicide missions, you're risking all of us."

Guilt rocked me back on my heels. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just... In my life, when bad shit has to be handled, I have to get in and do it immediately. Otherwise I’ll procrastinate forever. Alex was that shitty job that needed handling, and every time I go near him with either of you, it just ends in you all bitching at each other. Nothing else happens."

So I'd just gotten it done when I could.

"She's wired that way, Rafe," Jordan said from where he remained perched on the sidelines. "Just like you are."

Rafe took another step toward me, neither of us turning to Jordan because we knew that would be the end of this battle.

"I don't want to change you," Rafe said, huskily. "But I do want you on my team. Teams work together."

A snort of laughter, and in that same burst, I launched myself forward, wrapping my arms and legs around Rafe and rolling him down onto the mat.

He'd been ready for me, and as I rolled, he used his bulk to situate us so that we landed side by side. He'd been hoping to land on top of me, but I was too fast for that.

Launching myself across him in the split second before he moved, I got my arms and legs wrapped around his, locking him in place as I twisted his right arm at the perfect angle to break it.

He could have gotten out of it; I could tell by his first struggle that there was a weakness in my current position. Someone of Rafe's training would know it as well. But he didn't; instead he gave a few halfhearted attempts to move while I applied a little more pressure to his arms and tightened my legs.

My mistake was forgetting about his other arm. It snaked down the front of my pants, fingers sliding into my underwear and over my pussy. His fingers were inside me before I could release my next breath, and I could have screamed at how good it felt.

"Let me go," he said, “and I'll make you come."

I shook my head. "No. Fucking concede, and then you can make me scream your damn name."

He fingers slid in and out, thumb scraping over my clit and sending tingles through my body until I felt light-headed. Fuck's sake. No! I could not fall for the weakness of my body here. Rafe's punishment was one thing, but his arrogance needed no extra points. I couldn't let him win.

"Concede!" I demanded, forcing all breathiness out of my tone, even though my toes were literally curling. I twisted his arm a fraction more, and it had to be killing him, but the bastard still kept finger fucking me like this was all normal.

Jordan moved so he was over both of us. "You're going to have to break his arm," he told me, and I swallowed hard.

"Rafe, please don't make me do that."

His fingers moved faster, and as my body lifted to try and move with him, I forced it to remain still.

I don't know what the hell possessed me in that moment to kiss him, but I released my hold on his arm and slammed my mouth against his, kissing him as he continued to work my body like he knew it better than his own.

"If neither of us can concede, will you accept a tie?" I breathed against his lips.

He opened his mouth, and my tongue tangled with his as I skirted the outskirts of an orgasm. Just when I was about to tip over the edge, Rafe jerked his hand out, flipped me over to my back, and in a similar lock hold to what I'd used, got me all wrapped up. And this time I knew I couldn't get out.

He was stronger with long-ass limbs that held every part of my body down. His arm wrapped around my throat, and as it closed around my wind pipe, I wondered how far he'd go.

Would he choke me out completely?

We struggled like that for a moment, and then I went limp. From his angle Rafe probably couldn't tell if I was passed out or plotting, and I hoped that it was enough to loosen his hold.

"How about medium punishment," Rafe said, loosening his grip just enough to let me speak, "and I promise not to leave a mark anywhere that can be seen?"

My body was already wound up so fucking tight from all the fighting and then his magical fingers. Those words made it so much worse. "How about we call it a tie, for bragging rights, but I allow you this medium punishment so you feel like you won something?"

His hold lessened slightly more.

"You know we're evenly matched," I said, my words coming out easier without his arm locked quite so tight across my throat. "And we're out of time."

"You definitely are," Jordan said, his voice lower than usual. The sexual energy in the air was getting to all of us.

"Deal," Rafe said, and then he released me. I rolled off him, my body screaming at me from all the abuse. “Strip!”

I spun and blinked at him. “What?”

His face was expressionless, those fucking eyes drowning me with intensity. “Strip.”

Fuck. Me.

No, seriously, fuck me now. I’d resisted as long as I could.

My gaze shot to Jordan, questioning, and he scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Fuck’s sake," he muttered with a groan, shaking his head. "I can't stand here and watch this without going all possessive and punching Rafe in the face."

Rafe snorted a laugh. "You could try."

Jordy just rolled his eyes, his hand going to his pants to adjust himself. "You've got five minutes. After that, it's on you to explain why you're so late to the dinner."

With one last pained look, he slipped back out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"I'm waiting," Rafe prompted when Jordan's footsteps faded away, leaving us totally alone. It was probably for the best, given how possessive they both were of me. Actual three-way sex would more than likely end up in some kind of bloody massacre when Rafe and Jordan realized they were really only okay sharing me when it was out of sight.