“That’s not what I said.” He turns around and says to Jason, “Alright, see you guys there. Wait for me at the front door, or they won’t let you in.”

I do a double take, and then look behind me, but Rose and Jason are already crossing the street.

“Hey!” I yell. “Where are you going?”

“To the car.”

They keep going, and I turn back to Pierce, and he’s just regarding me. I feel like I’m on display or something. Being tested.

Is this some kind of setup?

“I won’t bite,” he says.

“Where are we going?”

“To my car.”

“Oh.”

We round a corner, and there I see a black sports car. It’s a Porsche.

“That’s your car?”

“Yup. 911 GT3.”

“I didn’t realize fighting paid so well.”

“It pays well – I won twenty-five grand tonight – but not this well.”

“So where do you get your money?”

“I bet on myself in the fights. Usually it doesn’t amount to much, but sometimes I’m the underdog.”

“Is that legal?”

His expression says: Are you serious? He opens the passenger side door for me. “It’s low,” he says.

“So?”

“Never mind,” he says casually. “Usually they’re wearing heels.”

“Um,” I say, climbing into the car. What the hell was that?

He’s right, the car is low. “Why did you say that?” I ask as he climbs into the car.

But he doesn’t reply. He buckles up, starts the car, and I grip instinctively onto my seat as I feel the thunderous vibration rattle in my bum.

He pulls out of the parking space, and the car accelerates so fast I can barely breathe, and even though the windows are closed, it’s so loud I can hardly hear anything but the roar of the engine.

“Wow,” I whisper, grinning. I can feel adrenaline coursing through my body as he weaves us through the quiet suburb.

The seat beneath me shakes violently beneath my bum. It’s like every crack and crevice in the road is transplanted straight through the car and into my ass.

“The suspension is too hard,” I say, and he just laughs. “What?”

“There’s no switch or anything. This is a track car.” He points up with his finger, and for the first time, I notice the roll cage. It was practically invisible in the dark. Not exactly my preferred choice for a daily driver.

“So why is it so hard?”

“Soft suspension transfers momentum to absorb shock and centrifugal force,” he says. “Slows you down, wasted energy. You can’t take corners as aggressively.”

“Oh,” I say. “But we’re not racing.”

“I like to feel the road.”

“An underground fighter and an amateur race car driver, huh? You’re just full of surprises.” Now it’s me who is grinning at him, and he takes it on the chin.

“You know me better than I know myself, Penelope.”

“Women’s intuition,” I joke.

We laugh, and for the first time, I’m starting to feel comfortable. No longer in the presence of Rose’s urgent stares, and the others’ silent observation, I feel less awkward.

“Could you drive a bit slower?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to.”

“But we’re right up on the limit.”

“That’s why it’s called a limit. What’s the problem?”

“I barely know you, and you’re driving in a car with way too much power. I’m a cautious person. Your insurance must cost you loads, but I’m guessing they don’t know you fight for a living and then drive your own car to clubs.”

“Relax,” he says. “I won’t be driving back.”

“So who will drive you?”

“Nobody. The club’s in downtown Melbourne, near Southern Cross station. I live in a block of apartments nearby. We’ll walk.”

Apartments in the city center? He must really be rolling in it.

Wait a minute, what did he mean by we’ll—

“What’s that supposed to be?” He nods at my wrist.

“It’s a tattoo.”

“I know it’s a tattoo, Pen. What’s it of?”

“Oh, so this is the part where you come up with a nickname for me?”

“I didn’t exactly come up with it. Penelope… Penny… Pen… P.”

“How about we just stick to Penelope?”

“What’s it of? Your tattoo? I can’t see from here.”

“It’s Chicago’s skyline. From the lake.”

“When did you get it done?”

“Why?”

“I want to know.”

Sighing, I tell him. “Just last month. I didn’t get it done. I did it myself.”

“No shit,” he says. “That’s on your right hand, and I noticed you were a righty.”

“You notice these things, do you?”

“Got to when you’re in the cage. So, you did it with your left hand?”

“Yeah. I’m a little ambidextrous.”

“So am I,” he says, and he smiles at me. “That’s really impressive.”

“So is this the part where you flatter me? Say nice things, do your little routine?”

“I really couldn’t give a fuck about flattering you, Pen. I’m just making conversation.”

“Oh, just making conversation, huh?”

“Yes, trying to loosen you up.”

He looks at me, and I feel my indignation flare up.

“Ten minutes ago you were shaking like a wet puppy. I know I’m hot, but there’s no need to be nervous.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh my God.”

But he just smirks.

I’m beginning to dislike him intensely.

Chapter Nine

I want Penny more and more by the second.

The vision of her naked flashes through my mind. I imagine her skin, licking it, tasting her, salty and sweet. She’s got her arms above her head. I’m holding them there, pinning them against the wall. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. Her legs are closed but I push my knee in between them, force them open, bring it up, make her gasp, make her long for my kiss again, long for every bit of me she can get.

I run my fingers through the buzz of her pubic hair. I hear her breathing, fast and shallow. I see her cheeks, flushed and hot. I look into her eyes, desperate, yearning.

She tells me she wants me to make her come. She tells me she wants me to fuck her until she screams. She doesn’t use words… she doesn’t need to. I know it.

I shake myself out of my imagination.

Penny and I walk to the elevator that will take us to Juice, one of the most exclusive clubs in Melbourne. As the doors slide open, and as she walks into it with me behind her, I devour her ass with my eyes, and catch her scent on the air. She smells great. It’s not perfume or deodorant – I don’t even think she’s wearing any – it’s her.