"So far up your ass it was back on your shoulders again," he countered.
"Don't be a dick," I shot back.
"What are you gonna do about it?" he asked, head dipping to the side. "Hit me?"
"Don't tempt me," I said, lifting a brow at him.
"Take a shot, baby," he invited, holding his arms out. "Don't be a chickenshit," he added, using the same word he threw at me the day before.
And, well, I'd be damned if I'd get called a chickenshit again.
Unlike Adler, though, he wasn't just going to stand there and let me wail into him. Oh, no. But I didn't know that until I tried to strike a second time and found my wrist grabbed and twisted until I was somehow turned around, my back slamming into his chest, his arm going around my waist, holding me in place.
"Admit it."
"Admit what?" I asked, trying to twist, to sink down, to find some way to get away from him. My pride was not liking being so helpless.
"Admit what we got here is more than just fucking," he specified, letting me go, spinning me out.
"And if I won't?" I asked, all bluster now that he wasn't holding me hostage.
"I'll make you," he promised. It shouldn't have, but it made my sex clench hard.
"Bring it," I demanded, charging at him.
It wasn't two minutes before I slammed back hard onto the mat.
"Admit it," he demanded again, looking down at me while I tried to catch the breath that had gotten knocked out of me.
"Nope," I shot back, kicking a leg out, landing in his shin, sending him down on a knee with a hard hiss. "Fighting dirty," he accused, but he sounded almost... proud.
"Just wait until I start taking my classes. I will wipe the floor with you," I said, rolling to my side so I could push up.
"I'd like to see that," he said, moving so fast that he blurred, pressing into my shoulder so that I lost my balance, falling onto my back again. His hands grabbed my wrists, pinning them up above my head. "Now admit it," he tried again, eyes on me, body completely preventing me from moving even an inch.
"This is good foreplay," I said instead, making him let out a low, rolling chuckle that made my insides go all gooey.
"You're a fuckin' trip," he told me. "Now admit it." When I said nothing, his smile went wicked. "I can play dirty too," he told me, head lowering to run his tongue up the side of my neck, sending a shiver through my body even as his hips shifted, pressed my thighs open, and his cock pushed against my pussy. "Got no shame. I'll keep going," he added, snagging my earlobe between his teeth. "Tell me you want more than fuckin' from me."
Feeling desire like a live wire through my system, wanting to get it out so we could get out of here and do something about it, I took as deep a breath as my pinned body could, and forced the words out. "I want more than just fucking with you," I admitted, my words small and choked.
When Sugar pressed back up to look down on me, his smile was victorious.
"Was that so hard, you stubborn ass?"
"Yes, actually, it was," I shot back, tone snippy.
"Get used to it," he said, pushing back onto his heels. "If we are committing to more, you are gonna have to fuckin' talk to me."
"Ugh, fine," I grumbled, reaching for the hand he extended to me, letting him drag me back onto my feet. "You owe Adler an apology," I informed him as he unwrapped my hands.
"No, I don't."
"Yes, actually, you do."
"No, Peyt."
"You came charging in here and flew at him."
"Yep."
"He didn't do anything."
"Yeah, he did."
"He just happened to be here," I insisted. "Lo picked him to spar with me. That was it. He didn't do anything wrong."
"He did, baby."
"What? Because he wasn't your errand boy?"
"Because he knew he should have sent you in my direction. Or called me himself."
I rolled my eyes at that, tossing my mouth guard into the little holder he held out to me, making a mental note to wash it out later.
"Even if he tried to send me in your direction, I would have stayed here. Would you rather I spar with one of these other randos? They might not have kept it as PG as Adler did."
"There are rules, Peyt. In an MC, there are rules. You don't get that yet. He knows, and did his own thing. So he paid for it. It's not personal. We'll raise a glass later and laugh about it."
"Guys are stupid," I decided.
"Says the girl with the emotional intelligence of a goldfish," he teased, throwing an arm across my shoulders in a way that I would never admit aloud, but I loved. "So, am I coming back with you?" he asked, clearly meaning to my apartment.