Crushed

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

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  Crushed

  By Skyla Madi

  Crushed

  Copyright © 2017 by Skyla Madi.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: July 2017

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-168-5

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-168-4

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To the readers who waited patiently while I

  figured out Selena and Jackson’s story.

  Thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

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  Chapter One

  Selena

  He slips two hot fingers between the leather on his belt and the skin of my throat. I swallow hard, my nerves dancing along my pores, as his beautiful lips curve into a devilish smirk.

  Jackson Quinn.

  Lover…

  Hater…

  Fighter…

  …undeniably, the greatest love of my life.

  I wiggle my toes underneath me, shifting my heels as I rest back on them, nervously tapping my thumb against my thigh.

  “You look scared,” he points out, lowering his face to mine.

  His green eyes dance with joy, glistening like emeralds. Our noses brush and I hold my breath, desperate not to breathe him in. I’ve decided that his aura is toxic.

  It’s toxic to my body…

  …toxic to my heart…

  …toxic to my soul.

  I shake my head, a simple lie to mask the rapid beat of my heart. His bright, green irises darken as he draws his eyebrows closer, like the angry clouds of an impending thunderstorm.

  Pulling back, he tugs on the belt, sliding his thick fingers along the buckle. It tightens, squeezing my throat. I swallow again and this time it’s less comfortable.

  Panic flares inside me, only to be trumped by excitement. I inhale through my nose and fill my lungs to capacity. As long as I can fill my lungs and breathe, what’s the harm? My lids grow heavy with lust and heat swells inside of me as I cave and breathe him in. The air around him, the air that fills my body, is magnificent. It flows through my blood and sets fire to every cell—every fiber in my being. It blows over my brain, soothing me like nicotine soothes a smoker.

  Absolute perfection.

  “How does that feel?”

  I open my mouth and a heavy rasp of air falls out. Amusement lights up his face and he reaches out, gliding his finger across the underside of my bare, straining nipple.

  “If I could keep you like this all of the time…”

  I close my eyes. I don’t know what has happened to Jackson. One week he’s singing my praises, telling me he loves me, and we’re having sex like normal people, and the next he’s keeping his distance, treating me like I have some kind of disease he doesn’t want to catch.

  Tonight…tonight I don’t know what I am to him. He showed up like he always shows up, angry and sore, the second hand of the clock ticking its way closer to two a.m. There’s a cut on his cheekbone. It’s long and deep, and it’s all salved up. My stomach cramps at the thought of someone else rubbing cream into his cuts—at the thought of someone else being there for him when he’s hurt. It should be me. It should always be me. Out of jealousy, I fight him, but it always ends with my heart being crushed under the weight of his as he fucks parts of his magnificent anatomy in and out of my willing body. Tonight is no exception.

  Oh, how I long for an exception.

  “You shouldn’t argue so much,” he mutters, stroking the leather of his belt.

  I glare at him. “You shouldn’t keep things from me.”

  My throat hurts as I speak, but if I don’t get these words out I’m going to implode.

  “I do it to give you peace of mind.”

  “Not knowing where you are does not give me peace of mind.” I swallow hard, cringing as my throat squeezes against leather. “You showing up in the early hours of the morning beaten and bruised does not make me feel good.”

  Amusement flickers across his features. “You’re mad at me?”

  I nod.

  “What for? For not being here? For not handing over my balls for you to carry in your gigantic purse? For not being strapped to your hip, like Seth is to Olivia?”

  I scowl at him. This isn’t about that. This isn’t about whether I have control over him or not and it certainly has nothing to do with Seth or Olivia.

  “You have a cut on your cheek…and it has cream on it.”

  He straightens his posture, his crotch leveling with my face. “And?”

  The way he says the word grinds my gears, like the cut is something he’s always had.

  “And I know you don’t look after yourself, so someone had to have put it there for you.”

  Jackson quirks his eyebrow in delight, his irises dancing with excitement. He loves jealousy games. He loves taunting me with the possibility of him giving his body to another woman in my absence. I used to love playing along too. Once upon a time I found it acceptable, since we weren’t exclusive to each other, but now…God help the female who puts her hands on him.

  “Tall,” Jackson utters, his lips curling at the corners as he drags down the zipper of his dark jeans. “And blonde, like you.”

  I dig my nails into my thighs instead of lashing out at him. “You’re disgusting.”

  “So bitter…” He grins at me, pulling his cock from his pants.

  I look at it. Excitement and fear clash in my stomach. Every time I lay eyes on his beautiful penis, I wonder how he’s going to fit it into my body. Then I remember all of the times he has been inside me and how perfectly we fit together.

  Like two puzzles pieces.

  Like a lock and key.

  He steps closer, gripping his thick shaft in one hand, and drags the head of his warm cock along my lower lip. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, careful not to give in to my baser desire to lick his tip and watch him shiver.

  “Gentle hands,” he continues. “A tight, fit body…”

  I turn my head and cut my eyes at him. “Fuck you.”

  Growling, Jackson snatches me by the arms, picks me up off the fl
oor, and throws me onto my bed. Yelping, I bounce once before he crushes his heavy, heavy body against mine and slips effortlessly between my thighs. The smell of him overwhelms me in the sweetest of ways. When he arrived here, he showered, using my pomegranate body wash. It smells different on his skin, fusing beautifully with his natural scent.

  “He also had a cock, which is a deal breaker for me.”

  “He?” My anger dissolves as I frown.

  The person who rubbed salve into his skin was a he? Jackson nods, dragging his index finger across my bottom lip. He rocks slightly, his dick sliding against my thigh. “You think I would let anyone touch me other than you?”

  He flexes his hips forward and I shift my thighs. The tip of his cock touches my entrance and his breath hitches. So close. So. Damn. Close.

  “You think I want anyone other than you?” He slips his finger inside my mouth and I touch it with my tongue, tasting his clean flesh. “You are the only woman for me, Selena. The only woman.”

  He pulls his finger out, dragging it along my lower lip.

  “You mean it?”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

  I frown. Wouldn’t he? I don’t know what to think anymore. Sometimes I can’t help but get the feeling he’s only stringing me along to fulfill his sexual needs. Jackson reaches for the belt around my throat and fiddles with the strap and buckle. Cool air rushes into my lungs as the leather is loosened and falls away from my skin. He tugs the belt out from underneath me and tosses it to the floor. I touch my throat as he rears back onto his knees and pulls his shirt off over his head before he throws it away.

  I drag my gaze over his beautifully tattooed body. It’s terrifying and striking all in one. How many sessions has he sat through? Which ones hurt the most?

  “I love you,” he tells me, leaning over me to kiss my jaw. “You know that, right?”

  I swallow hard, flicking my attention from his body to his handsome face. I do know it. Sometimes I just need a little reassurance. “Yeah. I know it.”

  Jackson tightens his jaw. Granted, I didn’t sound as certain as I was supposed to sound. He takes my wrist in his gigantic hand and glides my palm along his bare shoulder. His skin is soft, smooth, warm, and nerves dance in the dead center of my palm at the feel of it.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he murmurs, sliding his warm forehead against mine. “We can do it your way instead.”

  My heart thunders in my chest and I wonder if he can feel it pounding against his. We don’t have “plain” sex often…only when he feels bad or when I complain that our intimacy is suffering. He knows I no longer enjoy feeling like I’m an object to him. There’s no emotion in the sex he likes to have. He barely kisses me, barely holds me. At one point, I thrived off of the carnality of it and relished in the way he enjoyed my body, taking without asking, taking with such force. Hell, I even liked the way he turned my pain into unrelenting pleasure, but now I want something deeper. I want love making. I want marriage. I want children. I want a husband who isn’t so fucked up over an ex-girlfriend who was never there for him…

  …and I’m tired of the fighting. I’m tired of the cuts and the bruises and the aggression. I’m just…tired.

  “What are you thinking?” Jackson asks, brushing his thumb along my lower lip.

  Despite my lack of response, his eyes are still lusty slits, his cock still hard and determined between my legs.

  I shake my head. “Nothing.”

  His dark eyes flash dangerously “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Kissing me, he swipes his tongue along my lower lip, coaxing me into opening my mouth to him. Our tongues intertwine and I spread my thighs wider as he rolls his hips, pressing firmly against my center, eager to inch inside. Unease burrows through me…because I’m keeping a huge secret from him. A secret I don’t think I can ever tell him for fear of his irrational reaction.

  Contrary to his belief, I can’t be too terrible at lying because, despite my erratic behavior and nausea, he still doesn’t know that I’m carrying his child.

  Chapter Two

  Jackson

  Seth swings hard, slamming his heavy fist into my ribs. Air is squeezed from my lungs as my ribs compress. Grunting, I slouch forward and he goes for my head.

  Thump. One hit rocks me and I stumble backwards.

  Thump. The second one drops me to my knees.

  Groaning, I place my gloved hand on the canvas at my feet to steady myself. My brain rolls in my head and I can’t think straight.

  “What the fuck, Jackson?” Seth spits and I ignore the pain in the back of my neck as I lift my head to look at him.

  He rips off his red gloves with ease and tosses them out of the ring. They just miss Darryl, who chats with Olivia by the treadmills. Wide-eyed, they turn to watch us. The canvas shakes as Seth storms toward me, his wide body tight and threatening, like always. I exhale. I’m not in the mood for this shit today. I sit back on my heels and open the Velcro around my wrists with my teeth.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he demands, raking five angry fingers through his short, dark hair.

  I shrug, ripping off my gloves. “I’m tired.”

  “I bet you are. Fighting and fucking all night.” He scoops up my gloves and throws them at the wall. “There are rules you have to follow if I’m going to risk everything I have built to help you! There are protocols and commitments and—”

  I laugh and Seth stops, gritting his teeth. “What’s so damn funny?”

  “We’ve already had this conversation,” I point out, taking off my headgear. “But it was me saying this shit to you.”

  Seth’s dark eyes lighten as he smooths out his eyebrows with a rich chuckle. “Fuck.”

  Sauntering to the side, Seth leans against the ropes, running an index finger under the waistband of his black shorts to adjust them. “Olivia, grab me another towel, please.”

  I wonder if Seth has ever had to worry about Olivia like I worry about Selena? After they have sex, does he find himself wondering if he was caring enough? Wondering if he’d shown her just how much he loves her and if it was in the right way? That’s what plagues me today. I keep asking myself, did I show Selena enough? Because she went out of her way to avoid me from the moment she woke up.

  Olivia is a beautiful woman, incredibly beautiful, but she doesn’t have that irresistible edge that draws my attention and holds it. Olivia is comfortable inside her little bubble, but Selena…she’s not comfortable with anything. I’ve lost count of how many degrees she has started and how many different careers she has tried out. Selena’s father is currently paying off all of her half-assed studying attempts and now she’s back to working part-time as his receptionist.

  Unlike Olivia, Selena is reckless and passionate. She’s always spiraling out of control and she doesn’t care who she hits along the way. That’s something I’ve been attracted to since the moment I met her.

  Olivia jogs across the floor and over to Seth. Grabbing the thick, red rope in her small hand, she lifts herself onto the edge of the ring and gives him the towel. Seth snags her by the collar of her white polo and plants a fast kiss on her lips. “Thanks.”

  She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

  I roll my eyes, tossing my headgear at him. If I saved a dollar for every time I had to sit through public displays of affection from these two I wouldn’t have to keep fighting in order to get by.

  “Put your gloves on,” he tells her as he bends low and scoops up the headgear I threw at him before we started.

  It’s for Olivia, I first assume, only he puts the headgear on himself. I frown, forcing myself to my feet while Olivia jogs the distance of the gym for her small pair of pink and white gloves on the other side. She and Selena bought matching pairs, but I haven’t been able to get Selena into hers—outside of role playing in the bedroom, that is.

  “What are you wearing headgear for?”

  Seth laughs. “Don’t give me that look, and definitely don’t underestimate her
. She’s pretty quick.”

  I fold my arms. “You didn’t wear a helmet when you sparred with me.”

  He shrugs. “She’s more terrifying than you.”

  Bastard.

  “Get out of the way, Quinn,” Olivia shouts as she slides into the ring. “I’ve been waiting for this all morning.”

  Uh-oh. Someone’s in trouble. I gladly slip between the ropes and stand on the floor beside Darryl, who goes over and over my stats on his clipboard. “Keep going at this rate, Jackson, and you won’t even make it past try-outs.”

  I ignore him. Why? Because, in all honesty, who fucking cares?

  Olivia sizes Seth up, planting her feet and holding her body like any professional would. Seth is delighted. There’s a quirk in his lips and a glimmer in his eyes as he tells her the routine. She does it. Just like he said, she’s quick and her technique is fucking flawless. I guess someone has been getting private lessons. As he blocks her, dipping and ducking, Seth explains to me the best way to defend from an opponent who is faster than you…

  …which is not news to me.

  I exhale. Bored. They think that by drilling the same stuff into me over and over it’s somehow going to make me a better fighter. It isn’t. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of all of it. I’m not like Seth. I don’t have the patience for this shit. I thought I did. I thought doing it professionally was something I wanted, but…I’m not so sure anymore.

  And I’m too fucking scared to tell him or Darryl because they’ve both invested so much time in me already. We’ve been at this for sixteen months. Sixteen. Months. In eight months, I’m competing on a recognized level instead of those shitty illegal underground matches I indulge in to get by. Sixteen months is a lot of time to waste on a guy who doesn’t care enough…I’ve already wasted so much of their time.

  Thump. Thump. My attention is dragged back to Seth and Olivia as she lands two solid hits to his gut, making him groan. Cursing, he pulls her into a clench, holding her tightly against his sweaty chest. Here we go.