Sneak Attack (Tapped Out 2)

“And I see the asshole in you. Too bad the center is so crusty and hard, because the candy shell is so pretty.”

With effort, I managed not to sigh. I hated when people called me pretty.

She spun on her heel, took two steps, then turned back. “Bollocks to this. I’m not walking out. I’ve dealt with plenty of your type since I’ve been on the circuit. My former coach warned me coming over here would be like starting all over again. So we’ll just call you the first level.” She snapped a band off her wrist and tied her hair back, revealing a surprisingly long scar that curved along her hairline to her jaw. It nearly made me do a doubletake. Not because of the severity of the injury it represented, though that was significant, but it made me assess her in a whole new way. “If you’re done with your workout, we’ll get started.”

I smothered a smile. She must not realize I was well used to alpha females and wasn’t cowed by her commands. Rather, I found them amusing. “What’s your name?”

She blinked. “Evelyn Pierce.”

The name Pierce sounded familiar, but I didn’t know any fighters with that name. Looked like I’d be checking out the European roster for the past couple of years. “And your fighting name?”

“Evie.”

“Evie, great. Nothing else?”

The faintest blush stained her cheeks. “Hummingbird. And I don’t see what this has to do with—”

“Evie, let’s get a few things straight, shall we?” Finished cleaning, I tossed away the wipes and pasted on a bland smile. “Sometimes people think I’m an easy touch because I don’t growl more than breathe. I also smile now and then. What that means is if you piss me off, I won’t refuse to work with you. You’ll probably wish I had by the time we’re through.”

She crossed her arms and smirked as if such a thing was patently impossible. “Why is that?”

“I’ll exact my payment for your smart mouth by making you hurt like you’ve never hurt before.” My smile grew. “All for your own good, of course.”

Her lips twitched. “Naturally.”

“So I’d advise you to cut the attitude if you want to work with me. If you don’t, Timmins can assign you to another trainer. Like, oh, Mia. She’d just love you.”

“Mia? Who’s she?”

“You’ll meet her soon enough.” I was already picturing the snarl when Mia laid eyes on Evie. Mia made up for my lack of growls times ten.

“I’ll stick with you.” She puffed up her chest. “No offense to Mia, but I prefer to spar with men.”

My grin caught me by surprise. “Where have I heard that before?”

As if on cue, the door to the workout room clanged open. Mia swaggered in, her shields fully in place. Love and lust coiled inside me, as they always did.

Mine. She was all fucking mine.

I opened my mouth but my greeting stalled in my throat as I glimpsed who was behind her. Giovanni Costas, all machismo and gleaming eyes. Sweat splotched her T-shirt and dripped off his bare torso, as if they’d been going a round. Together.

Something kicked in my gut, as hard as the butt of a gun. I shouldn’t have cared if they’d been using each other as practice dummies. As a trainer, Mia was required to work out with any member who needed assistance. It was her job. Plain and simple.

Too bad the odds of Giovanni admitting he needed assistance from an Anderson sister for anything other than sexual satisfaction ranked pretty damn low.

And they hated each other. Or they had, once. What the hell did I know anymore?

Before I could rein in the red haze creeping in around my vision, Mia stepped forward. A smile curved her mouth. It resembled a wolf’s expression before it took the first juicy bite out of your throat. “The dojo’s cleared out for your eleven o’clock appointment. If you can spare the time,” she added, her gaze centering on Evie.

“Excellent, since you’re looking at my eleven o’clock.” I headed past them toward the exit, shooting Evie a glance over my shoulder. “Let’s get started with some mat work so I can see where you’re at. Then we’ll talk specifics about what you’re looking for.”

“Oh, I’ve already spotted what I’m looking for, darling,” Evie said as she followed, her British accent thicker than ever.

As was her snarkasm.

“Excuse me?” Mia’s voice dripped acid, all pretense of pleasantness gone. “Who the fuck are you talking to like that?”