Sunday Snippet: Pregnant Pause

Okay, Gotham, you have my attention. I'm now very interested in Bruce Wayne and what's going on with him. Also loved the whole Fish / Penguin interaction. Not sure how I feel about the reporter, Vanessa Vale, yet. I'm not really down with a major triangle but I might be jumping the gun. The whole Ivy thing is also in the I'm-not-sure-about-this corner. Looking forward to Monday!

Agents of SHIELD didn't have a bad premiere. I'm still a week behind. Ended up with a nasty cold / respiratory ick and missed the episode Tuesday.

Van Helsing is still kind of "meh". I'll see if the next few episodes get better and bring the various threads together.

MacGyver is still not too bad. I'll keep watching and see if ends up going too cheesy for my tastes.

Rewatch fare remained with Miss Fisher. I started a fandom bullet journal and hope to jot down my favorite moments from the series. I've been using it to help keep track of what I like and don't like about all my shows.

And that's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Pregnant Pause, a novella that started with the prompt, "I'm pregnant" and took off from there. One of the primary themes is doing everything backwards. Fun!

Here's the mini-blurb:

Nora Dunne and Logan Rider are wildly attracted to each other and doing a stint in a remote location for a research project. When sexual tension gets in the way of the work, their decision to act on the magnetic pull leads to unexpected consequences.

And a snippety peek…

Logan popped his head into the lab. "Stir fry or breakfast for dinner?" His fingers drummed a rapid staccato beat on the jamb.

Nora closed her eyes. She couldn't take much more. Three days into their program and the guy would not get out of her head. Now he invaded her workspace. Gah!

She whirled around. "Would you stop with the constant questions?" Gathering her notes, she stomped across the room and flopped down on the couch.

Logan's eyes went wide. "Whoa." He entered the lab and braced his hands on his hips. "This is the first time I've said jack to you all day." His eyes darkened with anger. "You asked for space and I gave you plenty of room. Excuse the fuck out of me if I thought you'd like some input on dinner." He made a disgusted sound, turned, and started for the door.

Nora sighed. Crap. She could be a raving bitch sometimes. But Logan had stayed out of her way today. Not his fault her thoughts kept landing on him all the time.

Rising, she followed him out of the lab. "Logan. Hold up." She fell into step beside him. "Look, I'm sorry. Still trying get my feet under me and snapping at you isn't going to help." They entered the kitchen. "I'm down with doing breakfast for dinner. I've been told I make kick ass pancakes—"

Logan cupped her face in his hands and slanted his mouth over hers. Nora swallowed her startled gasp and responded to the kiss. His lips left a heated trail along her jawline and his thumbs tilted her chin, giving him access to her throat. Nora moaned, a shiver of desire sliding down her spine. God, so much better than she imagined.

Logan's heated embrace moved back up and she met him, her tongue flicking against his.

He groaned and finally released her. "Sorry. I'm sorry." He moved away, putting a healthy amount of space between them.

Nora dragged air into her lungs. "Sorry you kissed me or sorry you stopped?" She scrambled to figure out how to deal with the simmering want and need he'd unleashed.

Logan shot her a glance. "Right now? Both." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "You've been snarking and snapping since we got here. I've been thinking about nothing but you." He stopped speaking, staring at the floor.

Well… how interesting.

Nora crossed the space between them, waiting until he met her gaze. "The whole reason I've been off balance is because I can't get you out of my head." Her lips curved. "Which means we've got a bit of a problem here, Logan." Reaching out, she grabbed his hips. "And the big question is… what are we going to do about it?"

I'll give you one guess as to what they're going to do about their mutual attraction. LOL

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Photo Ops

September 25, 2016

New television started for me this week. Gotham kicked off with a pretty solid premiere. I like Gordon playing bounty hunter. He's definitely got enough escapees to keep him busy. Really interested in where things go with Bruce and OtherBruce (aka Dude Who Looks Like Bruce).

Missed the premiere of Agents of SHIELD, but I'll catch up before the second episode. Looking forward to seeing how the team moves ahead.

Caught the second half of Van Helsing and I'm in for now. My fear is this show will be similar to Hunters where the first few episodes were good but things unraveled from there.

MacGyver ended up being better than I expected. As one of my favorite early adult shows, the original will be hard to beat. Then again, if the updated vibe continues and darker themes are explored, I could get behind the new reboot. Fingers crossed.

Needed some lighter fare, so started Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries again. I'll get back to Strike Back soon. Can't leave Stonebridge and Scott hanging for too long. LOL

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Photo Ops, a fun little romp prompted by a charity photo shoot idea.

Here's the mini-blurb:

When Mace McKenna decides not to participate in the annual Officers of the City charity calendar photo shoot, Nina Dean won't let up until he caves. But when Nina loses a bet and has to pose for the women's version, she soon discovers Mace is the orchestrator of the whole thing.

And a snippety peek…

"One final thing in closing. We need to do our part to keep morale up in the city."

Nina Dean snuck into the shift briefing and grabbed the closest seat to the exit. Mace McKenna stood at the podium, giving no indication he'd spotted her sliding in at the end of the daily rundown. Maybe she'd managed to stay off his radar for once.

"We've had a rough quarter. Major crime and the murder rates are up. Tensions are running high." Mace came out from behind the stand and stepped down off the dais. "Everyone, whether you work the beat, vice, major crime, homicide, or special response, needs to do their part to diffuse situations and rebuild communication. Trust doesn't come cheap. We all have to do our jobs and go above and beyond with problem solving." He pinned Nina with a scathing look. "That means making it to the morning briefings on time, right, Dean." A dark brow arched, daring her to refute the statement.

She sank down in the seat she occupied. "Right. Even if a commissioner's rep waylays us in the hallway, we need to be on time." She met Mace's gaze. "Won't happen again, Mace." Until it did, because it would.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't think any of us will hold our breath for that one, Dean." A round of laughter followed his verbal barb.

Nina took the insult in stride. "That's good. Wouldn't want anyone to die of suffocation." She almost always had a ready comeback for him.

Mace smirked. "Touche." He moved back behind the podium. "You're all dismissed."

Nina bolted up and made a beeline for the exit. The others followed, most carrying on conversations about how rough the day would be. She didn't disagree, but the commissioner's representative asked her to stop by as soon as the morning briefing ended and Nina didn't plan to be late for that meeting.

No way. The rep had been light on detail, but definitely caught her attention with two words.

Photo op.

If her friend Micha laid the groundwork like he'd said he would, she'd have a primo opportunity to put a feather in her cap.

And serve a little comeuppance to Mace in the process.

The back and forth of this one is so much fun to write!

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Past All Limits

Whew. The Last Ship had one of the best finales I've seen in a while. I'm so thrilled season four and five are already on tap and we'll get more of this terrific show. I'm honestly excited to see where things go with Tom, who's so broken right now, the Greens and their new family, and the rest of the crew of the Nathan James. Gonna be a very loooonnng wait for 2017.

Still need to catch up on Dark Matter so I haven't seen the finale yet. Hopefully next week I'll have some final thoughts on this season.

I think Gotham starts this week and I'm interested in where things will end up. With so many disturbed and unbalanced people on the loose, Gordon and company will have their hands full.

Fall television will be in full swing soon so there might be more shows added to the roundup.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Past All Limits, a novella that got a start with a scene prompt. After a groundbreaking or ribbon cutting, your characters have to confront each other about their breakup and continued feelings for each other. The result is sex.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Scarlett Jayne and Dare Humphries have issues. Scarlett can't commit and Dare won't wait around. After a nasty breakup, the former couple is thrown together for a groundbreaking at a new training facility. Six months isn't quite enough time for them to be sharing space.

And a snippety peek…

Dare grabbed Miranda's hand. "Would you like to see the progress we've made?" They were less than two blocks from the venue. "Opening night is in two weeks."

Miranda's head tilted and her lips curved in a smile. "I'd like that. I rarely get to see what happens after the papers are signed." She snuggled into his side.

Dare wrapped an arm around her and walked the short distance to the club. His newest rejuvenation project. Part gym, part fight venue, his goal to give the rough and rowdy crowd in Point Pleasant a place to work out their aggression and face some demons lay close to his heart. Growing up, he'd needed a place like No Limits. Too bad he got stuck with brawls and busted knuckles with nothing to show for it except a juvenile record and a strong suggestion he join the military.

Miranda let out a low whistle. "Wow. You don't mess around. This doesn't even look like same building." She moved forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the interior through the blacked out windows.

Dare fished the keys out of his pocket. "Wanna see the inside?" He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Miranda flashed a smile and gave a nod. "Absolutely." She entered first and stopped short. "Did you hear that?" Glancing over her shoulder, she held a finger to her lips.

Dare frowned. The sound came from the locker room. Short, gasping breaths. A light thumping against a wall. A growl, a grunt, followed by a low moan. He closed his eyes. Dammit. Someone decided to have sex in his building? Fierce anger filled him and he motioned for Miranda to stay by the door.

He prowled through the building, heading toward the locker room. He didn't bother with the lights or with trying to find a weapon, confident he could handle whatever he found, especially if he caught someone in the act of intercourse.

Moving around the corner, Dare walked into the changing area to see his new manager, Logan Jones, with his pants down around his ankles, thrusting into a woman with her legs wrapped around his waist.

Dare heaved an angry sigh. "Jesus Christ, Jones. Don't you have a home you can fuck—" The words died in his throat when the woman lifted her head and Scarlett's gaze clashed with his.

The urge to do bodily harm to his newest employee simmered low in his gut. He didn't have the right to maim the guy. He and Scarlett were through. She could do whomever she wanted. But not here. Not in his house so to speak.

Dare held her bold stare. "Jones, if you want to keep your job, I suggest you put your dick back in your pants and take the lady home." He turned on his heel and walked out.

He refused to show any emotion. Not rage. Not jealousy. Or disappointment. Scarlett deserved none of those sentiments. And he should be over feeling anything for her at all.

He met Miranda by the door and hustled her outside. "I'm sorry about that. Apparently my new manager thought a little late night action would be a good idea." He turned a locked the building up again. "We'll be discussing why it's not first thing tomorrow." He started down the sidewalk but Miranda's hand on his arm stopped his progress.

She tilted her head to the side. "There's more to this, isn't there?"

Hell, yes. So much more. But nothing he wanted to examine too closely.

He shrugged. "Not if I don't want there to be." And he didn't. Really.

Miranda's lips curved in a smirk. "You're a terrible liar, Dare. And I'm not so invested in our little tryst that I can't walk away now." She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. "Which I'm going to do… before I'm in too deep." Stepping back, she gave his arm a squeeze. "I'll see you sometime soon." Turning, she walked back toward the restaurant and her car.

Dare watched her, following at a discreet distance to make sure she got to her vehicle safely. The least he could do because a nudge of guilt licked along his spine because he didn't even blink when she decided to cut him loose. He didn't care.

Not like he had when Scarlett walked away.

And didn't that make him the biggest asshole on the planet?

This one isn't a standard romance. It's a little more conflicted. I had a friend ask if there's anything out there that reflects a more true to life experience and the prompt seemed to fit her request. And I'm having a lot of fun writing the characters.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Open Shelter

Well… it's kind of fitting the finale for The Last Ship is on the anniversary of 9/11. I have no doubt the end of season three will blow my mind. The previous episode has so much packed into it. Chandler knows what's happening on US soil. And it's not what he expected. The Greens were FINALLY reunited. If Blonde Ambition tries to do anything to their kid, I'm going to reach through the television and bitch slap her. Just saying. Pretty sure she'll focus on Chandler's family instead. Which means I'll still want to bitch slap her. LOL

I missed the double header of Dark Matter so I'll be playing catch up this week. I hope. I've got a crazy schedule through the end of the month so who knows.

No time to work on recaps of Killjoys season one. Maybe next week. I did get to watch a few episodes of Strike Back and should finish out season two soon. Might have to add recaps for this one to my list also. There's so much to love.

That's it for now. Should have few new shows to chat about soon.

Tonight's post is from Open Shelter, a novella that got a start with the prompt of a character meeting the other character when one was eight years old. I love childhood friends becoming more later in life.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Jay Hestwick meets Weslee Noss at the open shelter his mom operates and sees through her sarcastic rogue front to the scared kid underneath and decides to be her new best friend. Fifteen years later, Jay runs the program and Weslee comes home, ready to assist, but she doesn't realize she's bringing a dangerous menace out of hiding now that she's back.

And a snippety peek…

She looked better than ever. Her clothes gave her a willowy appearance, but the garments hid a toned and fit body ready to rumble if necessary. Weslee could always handle herself in almost any situation. Hell, she'd saved his ass a time or two.

Her bemused gaze met his. "Yeah, it's good to be back. I missed you, too." She glanced around the kitchen and relaxed when she realized they were alone. "I hope you don't greet all your long, lost friends with a hot kiss." Her lips curved in a smirk.

Jay snorted. "Most of my long, lost friends are dudes, so, no. There isn't any lip action going on with them." He pointed toward the connecting corridor that led to the office area. "Your name's on the door if you'd like to start getting settled. I'll finish up with Ralph and check in before we get lunch started." Brushing his lips over her temple, he turned and pushed through the café doors.

He didn't want to read too much into her response, but the way she accepted the kiss and her teasing banter kicked his libido into high gear. Weslee didn't make any promises when she agreed to become his head of social programs and he wouldn't expect more. Yet he wouldn't regret planting a hot one on her if for no other reason than to let her know he'd be open to whatever she wanted.

Ralph quirked an eyebrow when Jay returned. "That's a fine looking woman, Jay. Where've you been hiding her?" He slapped the clipboard on top of the produce boxes.

Jay lifted a shoulder. "Upstate at the university. She just finished her masters in social welfare." He grabbed the pen attached to the board and scrawled his signature on the document.

Ralph let out a low whistle. "Wow. I'm impressed. She seems young to be finished with grad school." He tucked the delivery receipt under his arm and pulled the dolly out from under the cases.

Jay grinned. "Weslee writes her own rules. When they said it would take six years to complete her program, she decided she'd do it in five." He laughed. "And she did."

Ralph chuckled. "Sounds like a go-getter. Exactly what you need around here." He started toward the entrance. "Want me to stop back after I've made my rounds? See if I have anything left?"

Jay nodded. "You know I won't turn down produce at a reduced rate." Ralph's boss would rather have cash in his hand than inventory he couldn't sell.

Ralph gave a thumbs up and exited the shelter.

Jay directed two of his volunteers to put the fruit and vegetables away, keeping a box of potatoes and apples off to the side. He had two more helpers start peeling and slicing to make mashed potatoes and applesauce.

A warm hand on his shoulder drew his attention. "That Weslee Noss come back to the fold, Jay?" Big Bertha Sanderson squeezed her fingers into his skin.

Her name belied her stature, compact and tiny, but her heart and voice earned the moniker. Big Bertha started helping at the shelter when Jay's mom ran the place. She stuck around when Jay took over and he'd be lost without her. She kept order in the kitchen and knew every trick to stretching their supplies. Big Bertha also shared her knowledge with many of the shelter inhabitants.

Jay wrapped an arm around her small frame. "Yeah, Bertha. Weslee's home."

Big Bertha quirked an eyebrow. "For good this time?"

Jay hedged his bets. "I hope so, Bertha. She's got her name on an office."

Bertha inclined her chin. "'Bout damned time our girl came home."

Jay couldn't agree more.

I'm hoping to find time to get moving on this one. The sages are starting to cooperate.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: One Time Thing

Holy crap! The Last Ship only has two more episodes left and I'm dying to see both yet dreading the long wait for season four. ARGH! We got a favored familiar face last week and lost a new favorite. We also got to see one major enemy get his due. Now we just need to see Blonde Ambition get what's coming to her and hopefully find out if Jacob the Asshat reporter, who turned into a decent dude after all, met a terrible end. A LOT happened last week. Just saying.

The Killjoys finale rocked. We got some answers and spawned new questions. And, of course, one third of the team is separated from the other two. I wouldn't mind that being a thing for each season finale. I'm so interested in seeing how things play out for season three and look forward to the recurring characters maybe getting a little more backstory. And hey, if Rick Howland can start recurring, bonus points for that. Hat's off to Michelle Lovretta and her team for creating such a kick ass show.

Dark Matter is also weaving intriguing ripples. Yeah, ripples can't really be woven together, but this is science fiction so *blows raspberries*. I kind of loved the whole android / hologram dealio. And I'm kind of hoping we get some development / clear answers on the corporation thing. I'm all for murky waters and all, but I wouldn't mind some concrete motives either.

My rewatch of Killjoys season one is inspiring me to maybe do some fun recaps on my sister blog. If nothing else, I'd love to talk the mix of cast / costumes / music, because the first season nailed everything.

And that's it for television. Tonight's post is from One Time Thing, a novella that started with the prompt of two characters share a dirty-bad-wrong secret from another before they died. I'm always interested in characters making mistakes then living with the consequences.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Sometimes a wicked powerful attraction isn't always a good thing. Vickie South and Grant Magnus have an instant spark, but Vickie is dating Grant's best friend. A stormy night and loss of power set the stage, and the duo can't resist the strong pull, which makes for an awkward situation all around.

And a snippety peek…

Vickie South hummed along with popular eighties song when the ping of her Bluetooth indicated an incoming call. "Hi, babe. What's up?" Her displayed showed the call coming from home.

Rapid breathing followed by a loud thunk greeted her ears. Speaker phone.

Brent Danner got to the point. "You don't have class this morning, do you?" The rip of a zipper sounded in the background.

Vickie bit back a sigh. She posted her schedule on the calendar in the kitchen. And updated it regularly—something Brent already knew.

She rolled her eyes. "No. I have two full, evening sessions tonight and a massage booked with one of the students." The rustling noise on the other end could only mean Brent had his go bag open.

He confirmed her suspicion. "I got a call out and I'm rolling in ten." His boots clomped on the floor and his bag thudded next. "Can you take Grant to the airport? He's got a flight out at ten and I was supposed to drop him off."

Grant Magnus. Brent's best friend, who she had yet to meet.

Vickie calculated the time it would take to add a trip to the other side of the city. "No one else can go?" She had a long list of errands to plow through.

Brent made a frustrated sound. "On short notice? No, Vic, there's no one else. He's expecting me in thirty minutes and I'm out the door in five." To emphasize his point, he rattled his keys.

Even though a Humvee would be picking him up.

Vickie made a turn into a parking lot. "Yeah, yeah. I'll give him a lift. What's his address?" Brent gave her a familiar street name. At least she wouldn't need GPS to find Grant's place. "Got it. I'll head out now."

Brent blew a kiss into the phone. "Thanks, Vic. Gotta go. My ride's here." He clicked off before she could ask how long he'd be gone.

Shoulders slumping, she shook her head. "The man has zero romance skills." Laughing, she backed out of the parking space and merged into traffic. "He'll have to make up for it when he gets home."

Whenever the hell that would be.

I hope my goal to establish something of a disconnect comes through on this scene, but not overtly. Let me know if it doesn't.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Once in a Lifetime

The Last Ship continues to blow my mind. I love the words that come from Chandler's mouth. Is the man perfect? Hell, no. But I'd totally back whatever play he wanted to make, even if it blew up in our faces. Can't wait to see what Blond Ambition tries to pull this week. And I have to say, the whole building of a wall thing, making the regional borders permanent, haunts me a little. I'm very interested in how that whole thing plays out. And hey… I get to see a familiar face on this week's episode!! YAY!!

Killjoys stayed dark and twisty and I won't complain. I'm saddened by the loss of a character who became a favorite. I'm also really interested in finding out what the hell is up with the faux scarbacks Evil Delle has working with her. Because that's a snag I want to see play out.

Dark Matter dialed the tension back a little and I'm okay with it. I continue to be amused by the little callbacks to the Stargate 'verse—this week it was a personal shield—and hope the inside references don't get to be too much. We'll see how that goes.

No Strike Back this week, but I did finish up season two of Babylon 5. I'm taking a small break to start on some 80s movies with my daughter and I've also got season one of Killjoys on tap. I'm revisiting the first episodes to see if there are some seeds planted that I missed. :)

And that's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Once in a Lifetime, a novella that started with the prompt of one character hearing the other calling their name in the throes of passion. I loved the challenge of coming up with something for that crazy idea.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Evan McCoy overhears Sasha Knepf shout his name when she's in the throes of passion with another man. He confronts her the next day in the hotel suite and demands an explanation, which she's not inclined to provide since he ditched her after their second dance at the annual ball.

And a snippety peek…

Sasha Knepf tugged her shirt over her head and looked up to find Evan McCoy staring in her direction.

She blinked. "What?" Fighting the urge to finger-comb her hair, she met his gaze.

Evan waved a piece of paper back and forth. "You get the security assignment? For the big deal shindig at the Hampshire?" He yanked his locker open and pulled out a shower kit.

Sasha bit back a groan. She'd give anything to be a fly on the wall when he showered. The man had a gorgeous physique.

Evan snapped his fingers. "Sash? Are you on the detail for the formal thing?" He cocked his head to one side.

Sasha shook her head. "Yeah, and I got the note it's civvie attire instead of full dress uniform." Her lips curved. "Which is terrific because it's too damned hot to wear long sleeves and wool in the middle of the summer."

Plus she wouldn't have to drag the heavy garment to the dry cleaner.

Evan closed his locker door and leaned toward hers, catching a whiff of the inside. "Probably a good thing." His nose wrinkled.

Sasha's face flamed. If nothing else, she needed to get rid of the socks piling up in the bottom of her bin. And maybe do a couple loads of laundry.

She quirked a brow. "Are you calling my personal hygiene into question?" Based on the smell of her locker she couldn't blame him.

Evan snorted. "You have hygiene? I seriously can't tell." One side of his mouth turned up in a smirk.

With a wink, he strolled into the shower area and pulled the curtain around the stall.

Sasha gave him a long hard look. "We'll see about that, Evan. Just you wait."

Having a truly wonderful time meandering through the writing on this one. Sasha and Evan are a joy to write.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: On the Bench

August 21, 2016

Well… Blonde Ambition finally showed her true colors on The Last Ship. About damned time. LOL I'm going to be really super pissed if anything happens to Kara because of Allison's machinations. I almost dread watching tonight's episode. Almost. J

Killjoys. Wow. Took a very dark turn and I love it. The way the cast works together amazes me. There's tension, usually understated, and buttloads of chemistry with everyone. I hope this show lasts for a good long time.

Dark Matter had a very trippy episode with an alternate 'verse. The showrunners have crap tons of experience with the concept, coming from the Stargate stable. The possibilities of the blink drive makes for lots of interesting scenarios. Looking forward to seeing what they do with that.

My Strike Back and Babylon 5 rewatches took a nosedive. My schedule exploded last week and I had zero time to watch either. Hopefully I'll get to reconnect this week.

Looking forward to several new shows this fall and, obviously, my returning favorites.

And that's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from On the Bench, a novella that got its start with a prompt from a fanfiction community where one character doesn't leave when the other joins them on the bench.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Peyton Bice comes of age around the mixed marital arts sporting events and her past comes calling in the form of her father's former star fighter, now a leading trainer. Rookie Cliff Westfordson offers a shoulder to lean on, but Peyton fears getting tangled up with the newest recruit on her dad's roster.

And a snippety peek…

Roman smirked. "You're such a raving bitch, Peyton." His arm swept over the prone form. "You wrecked Carmella. Look at the damage you inflicted." He yanked the sheet off his latest lover. "Look at it! The bruises. The contusions." He stepped closer, his voice a low snarl. "And then there's what you can't see… the internal bleeding." His hand shot out and gripped Peyton's jaw. "You'll pay for this, Peyton. I'll make sure of it."

Peyton jolted awake. Her vision blurry, she blinked and spotted an imposing figure huddled beside her. A gasp escaped and she scrambled backwards but had nowhere to go. A strong hand gripped her wrist and she pulled hard to get away.

Roman's threat echoed in her brain, but she wouldn't go down without a fight. No way. Rearing her arm back, she let her fist fly only to smack up against a solid, open palm.

She blinked and shook her head, clearing the last of the dream from her head.

Cliff wrapped his fingers around her hand. "You're okay, Peyton. You're in your dad's office." He let go and gave her a moment to calm down.

She glanced around, confirming his words. Big, messy desk; a row of beat up, old lockers used for storage; and a blinking neon beer sign. Yep, definitely her dad's office.

Peyton put a hand to her temple. How did she get here? The fuzzy details became clear. Sitting on the ugly, brown leather couch, she had a vintage Indian blanket draped over her. Cliff had moved down to the end, stretching his legs out. Jesus, he looked good.

Cliff slid his gaze sideways. "Must have been some dream." He tilted his head, studying her with hooded eyes.

Dream? More like nightmare. The menace in Roman's posture and tone kicked her heart rate up a notch, even now. But something about the fuzzy remnants stuck with her. Something about Carmella's injuries. She closed her eyes, letting her subconscious replay the moment Roman pulled the sheet away.

Her lids snapped open. "It was on the wrong side." Peyton straightened, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch. "Carmella's bruising was on her right side." The huge contusion on her abdomen couldn't have come from Peyton.

Cliff's head whipped upward. "What did you say?" He turned to face her. "About Carmella?"

Peyton got up and paced back and forth. "She had an internal injury on her right side. I noticed the spot when we were sparring." She stopped and glanced in his direction. "And she bruises forming along her ribcage. I couldn't have put those there. Our fight didn't last long enough for them to pop out." Son of a bitch… the stupid cow should have never entered the cage.

Cliff got up and made his way to her side. "I knew it. I knew someone had put a beat down on her before the match." He met her gaze head on. "One guess who's at the top of my list." Disgust laced his statement.

Peyton's gut lurched. "Roman, right?" Who else could it be?

Cliff growled. "Damn fucking straight." He turned, walking to stand in front of the desk.

Peyton wanted to heave. Roman treated people—particularly women—like shit. His ego demanded adoration and when the fawning didn't prove up to his standards, his asshole meter went off the charts. But injuring someone on his roster?

Made him low and vile and probably psychotically dangerous.

But none of that explained Cliff's vehement dislike of her ex.

Peyton folded her arms across her chest. "What's your beef with him?"

Cliff turned, a brow raised. "What makes you think I have one? The guy's a raging ass cock. Don't need another reason, do I?" His left fist clenched, giving Peyton all she needed.

She pushed back. "Look, everyone… and I mean everyone knows my history with the fucker, but you? Had a serious hate on for him from the moment you entered the gym." She moved forward, keeping her arms wrapped around her middle. "Why?"

Cliff's gaze went flat. "Because you—and Carmella—aren't the first women he's tried to destroy."

A little longer than normal, but this scene ended up being a revelation when I wrote it. Couldn't wait to share with everyone.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin