36. Gavin

THIRTY-SIX

gavin

HEADING DOWN THROUGH the tunnels this time was an entirely different experience. For one, Daire was holding my hand, something I wouldn’t have thought possible a couple of days ago. But his fingers were linked through mine, holding onto me with a firm, strong grasp as he led the way.

Now that we were down here, I realized what a monumentally stupid idea this had been. Upstairs I’d only wanted to be with him, to make sure he was okay, but the closer we got to the fight, the more I wondered if my presence would only distract him. What if the others in the crowd tried to mess with me again? I’d conveniently forgotten that part, that Daire had stopped his fight to get me out of there.

No wonder he’d been so adamant about my throwing on his hat and jacket so I’d blend in more. I hoped it worked. I needed to keep my head down and try not to draw attention, because that was the last thing Daire needed.

I could hear the shouts echoing down the tunnel as we got closer, and Daire tightened his fingers around mine. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought he was anxious.

“Stay close to me,” he said, keeping his voice low. “During the fight, don’t move from where I put you. Got it?”

“Promise.”

Daire stopped abruptly to face me then gripped my chin as he pulled me in for a kiss I felt everywhere, but before I could reach for him, he turned away and we were on the move again.

As we approached the opening in the wall that led into the makeshift ring, Daire gestured for me to go first and followed close behind.

Oh shit.The crowd was even bigger tonight, their shouts deafening as they urged on the two fighting in the center. I couldn’t see much, but I definitely caught the spray of blood that spattered those standing closest when one of the guys took a direct hit to the jaw.

My stomach plummeted at the sight, but beside me, Daire was almost…smiling? Not with teeth or anything, but his lips were definitely curved upward, and his excitement shone through his eyes.

Of course it couldn’t be anything as simple as compass hunting that he enjoyed; Daire got off on a good punch to the face.

“Stop stressing,” he said by my ear, never taking his eyes off the match. “Try to enjoy it.”

Enjoy worrying that someone would accidentally knock some of his teeth out? Sure. No problem. Easy.

He was fucking insane.

A couple more hits and one of the fighters went down, to the disappointment of half the crowd and the thrill of the other. The host, the same guy as last time, jumped up on the boulder to announce the winner, then his gaze traveled across the crowd and stopped on Daire.

The way his whole face lit up when he saw him was wild, and then he pointed at Daire and called out to the crowd, “Looks like there’s a Reaper in the house.”

As all eyes turned in our direction, I was suddenly grateful for the hat sitting low on my brow. The attention was brutal, but Daire only straightened, throwing his shoulders back and kicking up his chin in acknowledgment.

The response from the crowd was instantaneous. A thunderous roar of excitement filled the cavernous space, as though a superstar had just stepped into their mix—and in a way, I guess he had. From his own account, Daire never lost a match, he was just that good, and to those in the audience who’d placed bets he’d show up tonight, that meant a good payday was on the way.

“Okay, okay, you wanna keep making noise or get back to fightin’?” the host shouted, his eyes remaining on the two of us as the crowd quieted. “That’s what I thought. So, who out there thinks he’s tough enough to take down the Reaper?”

My gut clenched at the idea that someone was about to pulverize Daire, and at the same time I was trying to remember if our first-aid kit was stocked.

“This is the Reaper?” A big, burly guy with a neck as thick as a tree trunk stepped forward.

“That a challenger I hear?” the host called out from behind the big ox’s back.

“Let’s go,” he shouted, then balled his fists together in front of himself with a grunt that made the veins in his neck pulse—very reminiscent of the Hulk.

I snuck a peak at Daire, who wore a look that said, Are you kidding with this lame-ass? and his lack of fear made mine dissipate…a little bit.

“Gather ’round, gather ’round. Fighters, move into position.”

My heart raced as Daire gestured for me to come with him, and I followed him around the back of the group and to where the host stood. He stopped beside a tall, tatted-up guy with piercings all over his face.

“You,” he said, and then gestured to me. “Watch him. Anyone touches him, I’ll rip your piercings out one by one and make you swallow ’em.”

My eyes widened at the threat, but the guy seemed to take it in stride as Daire turned back to me and said, “Don’t move from this fucking spot. You hear me?”

I nodded, perfectly happy to stay by Mr. Tall, Tatted, and Pierced. Especially since he now had an incentive to keep me safe.

Daire was about to turn away when I grabbed his arm. “Uh…good luck?”

I had no idea if that was the right thing to say to someone who was about to beat a man to a pulp. But Daire’s dangerous smirk told me I was spot-on.

“Thanks.” He winked, then turned back to the eager crowd, approaching the fight circle like a predator on the hunt. He was slow and methodical, analyzing his surroundings and sizing up his opponent. Then he stopped by the host and gave a clipped nod.

“Right. If you haven’t already, it’s time to place those bets. Reaper or…” He looked to Daire’s opponent, who barked, “Gunner.”

Whispers rolled through the hyped-up onlookers as everyone argued why their guy would win, but really, would anyone be dumb enough to bet against someone called the Reaper?

With the bets placed, the crowd gathered in a little tighter, the air thickening with tension as Daire moved to one side of the makeshift ring and Gunner the other.

I shuffled forward, but my guard dog put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head—and okay, fair enough, I didn’t really want to see him get his piercings ripped out either.

Then he cocked his head to a spot beside him where there were a couple of broken slabs of concrete. I climbed up on them and immediately had a better view. Something I was thankful for when Daire pulled his shirt off over his head.

Damn, but he was sexy. With the spotlight shining over the circle, Daire’s ripped body and sharply cut muscles beckoned me closer, making me want to run my tongue all over him.

I could see the veins in his strong arms, and remembered kissing my way across his built chest—and despite the fact I was standing in some underground tunnel, about to watch that beautiful body potentially get damaged, my dick stood up tall like it wanted to wish him luck too.

“Okay, everyone, you know the rules. There aren’t any. Just no weapons, and don’t fucking kill each other. First one to knock out or get the other to concede wins.”

Oh God.I wasn’t sure if I wanted to watch this or cover my eyes, but as Daire began to move into the circle, I found myself unable to look away.

Like a big cat, Daire moved with stealth and precision. Each step he took was calculated, every decision thought through, as he began to drive his opponent around the circle until Gunner was facing me and I was no longer a distraction for him.

He’d done it on purpose, I knew, probably as much for me as himself, because if Daire played this the usual way, he was going to let that asshole make the first move. Something I really didn’t want to see head-on.

There was no buzzer or anyone yelling for them to start the match. It was Gunner who lunged first, faking like he was going to throw a punch. Daire didn’t fall for it, didn’t even move out of the way, and instead dropped to land a hit to the guy’s ribs.

Gunner howled, in pain or annoyance, I wasn’t sure, but it caused him to lash out, his beefy arm swinging in an arc that missed entirely as Daire ducked out of the way. His massive size had him moving too slow for how quick my guy was.

My guy…Was he mine? It sure as hell felt like it. Only time would tell if we decided to keep each other around, but for now, all I could do was stare in awe as he twisted around behind Gunner, landing blow after blow to his back.

The second Gunner turned around, Daire knocked him in the jaw so hard Gunner’s head flew back. He stumbled and tried to shake off the hit, and to my surprise, Daire didn’t take advantage. No doubt he could’ve kept going and won the match in a matter of seconds, but he hung back, bouncing on his toes as he waited for Gunner’s next move.

Oh, I recognized that plan instantly—the lion teasing its prey, wanting to play with it before digging his claws in.

To Daire’s utter disappointment—it was written all over his face—Gunner didn’t last another punch to the eye before he tapped out. Proof that size and lifting heavy at the gym didn’t equal kicking ass in the ring.

Daire looked up at the host and made a circle with his finger, indicating he wanted to go again.

“Do we have another? You think you can take on the Reaper?” the host shouted.

With his hands low on his hips, Daire looked out over the crowd slowly, meeting their eyes one by one as if to taunt them into challenging him.

When his gaze reached me, he gave me a quick once-over, like he was checking to make sure I was still in one piece. Satisfied, he nodded once and gave me a wink.

“And we have a challenger.” The host pointed at a guy stepping into the circle who was the same height as Daire but a little leaner. “What’s your name?”

The guy only glared up at the host, refusing to answer, and the man standing on the boulder shrugged.

“All right, place your bets. The Reaper or…Anonymous.”

A heartbeat later, the challenger kicked out at Daire, hoping to catch him off guard. Had Daire not been watching him intently already, he would’ve taken that blow directly to the head. Instead, he caught the guy’s leg and hauled him in close, lifting his knee to strike him in the stomach.

Anonymous clearly felt the blow but was able to pull away and shake it off much quicker than the first opponent. He threw a punch toward Daire, who managed to avoid it.

Damn, he was fast. He seemed to not only be able to move quickly when he needed to, but it was like he was able to anticipate their moves.

It was mesmerizing to watch now that my anxiety had been tamped down. I could focus on and appreciate how fucking incredible he was—the pure strength of his muscles, how his back flexed with every punch he threw, every move he made. It was so hot my dick took notice, a reaction completely at odds with the last time I was here.

As the two of them went at it with quick jabs and kicks, I felt the nervous energy in my stomach turn into something more…primal. Daire was clearly having the time of his life doing something he enjoyed, and he was a badass. The moves seemed to come so naturally to him, the same way they did in the bedroom, and suddenly this match was going on too damn long.

I turned my head, nuzzling into his jacket so that his heady scent filled my lungs every time I breathed, while below my hips, my cock had a mind of its own.

Never in a million years had I thought watching Daire beat the crap out of someone would turn me on, but add that to the list of surprises over the last couple of weeks.

A blink-and-you-missed-it sweep of his opponent’s legs and Daire had him on the ground in a complicated hold that had the guy’s face turning purple. He held out for longer than I expected, but then tapped the ground, and Daire immediately released him.

“Reaper for the second win tonight,” the host shouted, but his words were a distant echo as Daire’s eyes landed on mine.

His nostrils flared like he sensed the desire that was coming off me in waves, and he didn’t hesitate, nor did he look away, as he headed straight for me. He made a cutting motion across his neck, signaling to the host he was done. After snatching up his winnings, Daire reached for me, turned me around and directed me toward the exit.

The crowd dispersed, and as we disappeared out of the spotlight and into the shadowed maze that would lead us back to the main tunnel, the rowdy chants began to fade.

My breathing was coming faster now, my cock pounding almost as hard as my heart as Daire closed in on me. His hands found me first, gripping my waist and pulling me to a stop, and when he grinded his stiff dick against my ass, I reached for his hands.

“On me,” I panted as I pulled them around to the zipper of my jeans. “I need to feel them on me.”

“Then you need to hurry the fuck up and get moving.”

I shook my head. “No. Here.”

“What?”

I drew my zipper down. What had he called me? A beacon of holy light?

I wasn’t feeling so holy right now.

“I want you to fuck me right here. Right now.”