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by

Poppy

Dennison.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, places,
and incidents are products of the authors’
imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any re-
semblance to actual events, locales or per-
sons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
and beyond the intent of the authors.

Blindsided © 2011 Poppy Dennison

All rights reserved worldwide. This eBook
may be distributed freely in its entirety cour-
tesy of the author, Poppy Dennison. This
work may not be sold, manipulated, or re-
produced in any format without express
written permission from the author.

This work contains graphic language and
sexual content between two men and is not
intended for anyone under the age of 18.

Cover Design © 2011 by A.J. Corza

3/37

~* Written as part of the Hot Summer Days

anthology for the M/M Romance Group on

Goodreads. *~

~* Visit them at: ht-

tp://www.goodreads.com/group/show/

20149 *~

6/37

Noah held his fist in front of his face, the
bloody knuckles wrapped up in an old t-shirt
after last night’s fight. He moved his fist
slowly to the side and after an inch or so, it
disappeared. Fuck. The peripheral vision in
his right eye was gone.

A crowd’s muffled roar came from above and
he looked up as he undid the make-shift
bandages from his hands. One fight down,
two to go. His fight was the last of the night.
It would probably be his last period. The
boss had brought in some monster of a Rus-
sian for the bout. His nickname was the Ter-
minator and Noah’d heard stories as to why.
His opponents didn’t always walk away.

The boss told Noah it would be the best fight
of the night. Huge bets on the match guaran-
teed that he’d make plenty of money, even
though he wouldn’t see a penny of it. No, the
boss got it all. Would keep getting it all until
he no longer owned Noah’s ass.

But with one eye barely working, he wasn’t
sure how much longer he could fight. One
solid punch from the Russian’s ham-sized
fist and Noah was pretty sure he’d be totally
blinded in his right eye. He considered drop-
ping the left and giving the other fighter an
opening on his good side. He just didn’t
know how much damage that would cause.
Still fifty grand in the hole, Noah couldn’t
risk losing sight in his other eye.

He heard footsteps coming toward the locker
room and cleared his expression. It wouldn’t
do for anyone else to know he was scared
shitless to face this fighter. Noah stood up
and started his dance, his fists up in front of
his face and his feet moving from side to side
as he dodged imaginary punches.

One of the other fighters, known as The
Jackal, sauntered into the room, his face
slightly battered after his time in the ring. A

9/37

relative newcomer to the scene, Jason Jack-
son was rapidly becoming the fighter to beat.
His quick fists and quicker feet made him
hard to take down. His nickname fit, Noah
thought, because he stalked his opponents
and wore them down until he went in for the
kill.

Something about him had drawn Noah in
from their first meeting. Maybe he recog-
nized a little of himself in him? They were a
bit similar in appearance, both with cropped
dark hair and lean frames. Jax also had a
number of tattoos, and they’d compared ink
and stories that first time they’d met while
working out.

Noah remembered that night with mixed
feelings. Jax was brand new to the scene,
hadn’t even had his first fight for the boss
yet. Mr. Salvatore kept a run-down ware-
house that they used as a gym. He wanted
his fighters in tip-top shape, which was

10/37

laughable really, since the equipment he
provided was so worn out and beat up that it
was barely usable.

That night Jax had made the rounds, intro-
ducing himself to the few other guys there
before making his way over to the bag Noah
was punching. He’d grabbed it and kept it
from swinging while Noah kept up his hooks
and jabs. After a few minutes, Noah had
stopped to shake the stiffness out of his arms
and Jax had stuck out a hand.

“Jason Jackson, but you can call me Jax.”

Noah had raised a brow, but returned the
handshake. “Noah.” He didn’t really have
much to say to anyone and wasn’t looking to
make friends, so he’d turned and gone over
to the corner where a few jump ropes hung
from a peg on the wall. He’d grabbed the
least dilapidated one and continued his
workout. Jax took a second one from the wall

11/37

and tested the handles. He huffed out a frus-
trated breath at the shabby state of the rope
but started to use it anyway.

Noah had tried to ignore him, but Jax moved
so fast that Noah found himself wanting to
compete. He picked up his pace, and they
found a rhythm together, the slap-slapping
of the ropes hitting the concrete floor
matched by the slight squeaks from their
shoes as they found purchase.

After several minutes, Noah was a sweaty
mess. His breath came in harsh pants and
his feet began to miss their steps. He
stumbled over the rope and stopped, resting
his hands on his knees. Jax stopped also, and
Noah was relieved to see that he was strug-
gling to breathe as well. When Jax looked
like he was going to speak, Noah hung his
rope back up and went over to the weights.

12/37

The guy was unshakable. He followed Noah
to the bench and spotted while Noah pressed
the heavy barbell up and down. He leaned
over and Noah couldn’t help but stare at his
crotch in his loose, black boxing shorts.
There was a nice size bulge in them and
Noah felt a stirring of his own that he tried to
ignore. He looked away and concentrated on
counting his reps, but his eyes kept drifting
back to that one spot where he shouldn’t be
fixated.

When he finished his first set of presses,
Noah sat up and rested his arms. Jax came
around and Noah did the polite thing and
gave up his seat to him. Jax laid back and got
ready to do his exercise then watched Noah
expectantly. Noah held back a sigh and took
his turn at spotting. Of course, the position
put his groin in the same position and Jax
definitely noticed. He licked his lips a bit and
Noah pretended that the gesture didn’t mean
anything.

13/37

“We going bigger?” Jax asked when he’d
finished.

“Yeah.” Noah grabbed another large weight
off the stand and brought it over to the
equipment. After loading it on and tighten-
ing the bolts to secure it, he returned to his
spot and started his next set. Jax again stood
at his head, but this time he seemed to be
just a little closer. Noah couldn’t tear his
gaze away and when that bulge jerked and
grew bigger, he fumbled the bar and nearly
crushed himself. Jax grabbed it and helped
Noah guide it back to the rest.

Noah covered his slip by wiping his hands on
his shorts. “Sorry. My hands were sweaty.”

“You should be more careful,” Jax said with a
wink.

Noah could feel a blush forming and tried to
fight it. Jax came around to his side and ran

14/37

a finger down Noah’s arm. “Nice ink,” he
whispered as he touched the lines of Noah’s
tattoo.

“Thanks.” Noah searched the room and real-
ized that the other guys had left. He felt more
exposed than he had just moments before
knowing they were alone.

Jax traced the lines of the woman on Noah’s
arm before asking, “Who is she?”

No one had asked him before and Noah
didn’t want to answer. The tattoo looked like
a woman in old-fashioned clothes. She wore
a big brimmed hat and resembled a southern
belle. “My sister,” Noah finally replied.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, she was.” Every time Noah re-
membered Natalie, he got this big lump in
his throat. The tattoo honored her in the only
way he knew how, especially since he

15/37

couldn’t really talk about her to anyone. She
was the only family he had, and now she was
gone. The medical treatments she’d needed
were so expensive that he’d taken a loan
from Mr. Salvatore to pay for what she had
to have, but they didn’t work and he’d lost
her anyway. And now he was trapped here,
paying off a seemingly endless debt with his
fists.

“I’m sorry.”

Everyone always said that, Noah thought,
but the words didn’t help. “I’m going to go
shower. I’ll see you around.” This time, Jax
didn’t follow.

Noah pushed the memory aside and forced
his attention back to the empty locker room
where they now stood. Again that spark
between them burned brightly. Jax looked
Noah up and down and Noah felt a surge of
something in his belly that he hadn’t felt in a

16/37

long time. Noah gave him a little nod and
looked away, uncomfortable with the intens-
ity of his stare.

“You ready to fight?” Jax asked, stepping
back into Noah’s field of vision.

“Yeah,” Noah answered. “Gonna be a good
one.”

Jax snorted. “Not if you don’t get that right
arm up. The Terminator has a wicked left
hook and you’re dropping that side.” He took
a practice swing at Noah, who jerked back
and nearly tripped. “What the hell?” Jax
jumped forward and grabbed Noah by the
arms to steady him.

Noah shook out of his hold. “Back off, man”
He hated showing his weakness in front of
anyone, but he hadn’t been expecting that
swing. His mind was focused a little further
south. Jax pulled him in closer and when

17/37

Noah tried to look away, he pulled his head
up so their eyes met.

“Fuck. What’s wrong with your eye?”

Noah flinched and tried to pull away. “Noth-
ing. I’m fine.”

Jax ran his thumb over Noah’s cheek. “You
aren’t fine.”

Noah couldn’t afford to let the other guys
know about him. He wasn’t quite sure how
Jax had figured it out so fast. Maybe that’s
where his nickname came from. Weren’t
Jackals known for having good instincts or
something?

Before Noah could think of a response, he
heard more footsteps in the hall. Heavy and
slow, with a distinctive click, Noah realized
the boss was on his way down. He jerked
away from Jax and spun around to face the
hook that served as his locker.

18/37

Mr. Salvatore’s slick black boots appeared at
Noah’s side. One meaty mitt clapped down
on Noah’s left shoulder and he tried not to
flinch as the boss gave his muscle a tight
squeeze. His guard went over to Jax and
crossed his arms. “Out,” he demanded.

Jax nodded and left. No one questioned the
boss or his goons, not if they knew what was
good for them. The guard followed him to
the door and left Noah and the boss alone.
“Big fight tonight, boy.”

“Yes, sir. I’m ready.”

“You better be. I’ve got a lot riding on this
one. In fact, that’s what I’m here for. Got a
job for you.”

Noah lowered his head and held back a sigh.
He knew what was coming. “Yes, sir.”

19/37

“Third round, you go down and don’t get
back up. Make it look good.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked to
throw a fight. Mr. Salvatore liked to know
where he was going to make his money for
each of the events he hosted.

“You got it, boss.” Noah knew it was point-
less to argue.

“That’s my boy.” Mr. Salvatore patted his
face and smirked. “You do it right and it’ll be
five G’s off what you owe me.”

Damn. Five grand for one fight would be his
best payout yet. Problem was, he wasn’t sure
he could last three rounds against his oppon-
ent. He’d planned on getting in and getting
out fast, using his speed to his advantage in
the first round or two. The Terminator was
known for his stamina, taking fights low and
slow and wearing his opponent down.

20/37

As Mr. Salvatore left, Noah realized just how
badly he was screwed. To go three rounds
and make it look good, he was going to have
to take some early hits. He’d have to go down
once by round two or a knockout by three
just wouldn’t sell. That meant taking a lot
more hits early than he normally did.

The crowd went wild and Noah knew the end
of the fight was getting closer. His was next.
He checked the wrappings on his hands one
last time and left the locker room. The hall-
way was dimly lit and getting hotter by the
minute. The air conditioning didn’t work
very well in the basement and it was starting
to bake from all the heat upstairs.

He heard movement in front of him and real-
ized Jax had slipped out from behind a sup-
port pillar. Their eyes locked on each other
and Noah took a step closer before he real-
ized what he was doing. Jax reached out to
him, more slowly this time so he didn’t

21/37

surprise Noah again. His fingers trailed over
Noah’s right cheek, tracing a lingering bruise
from his last fight.

Noah’s eyes closed and he rolled his head in-
to the touch. It had been so long, too long,
since he’d let anyone comfort him. He didn’t
want to admit he was worried about this
fight, but Jax knew without him having to
say anything. He could be weak for a few mo-
ments then he’d put his fighting face back on
and become The Rainmaker once again.

Jax’s hands drifted down, over Noah’s tense,
muscled shoulders and further. Noah
dropped his head back and let out a gasping
breath. “Yes, please.” Jax dragged him back
into a shadowed corner and leaned against
the wall.

Noah leaned into him, pressing their bodies
closer together. He wanted skin, more of that
incredible heat he could feel pouring from

22/37

Jax’s body. He ripped at the thin, white tank
top Jax wore and it practically shredded in
his hands. He left the sides hanging on Jax’s
shoulders and looked his fill of the muscled
torso he’d revealed.

With a groan, Jax grabbed Noah’s head and
pulled him closer. Their lips met and Noah’s
heart began to thud. This was what he’d been
missing. Passion, loving touches. Jax de-
voured him, but it was more than raw lust.
Noah could feel the longing in his kiss and
poured every ounce of pent up emotion in
return.

Their chests slipped against each other, the
heat of the hallway and their bodies causing
both of them to be wet with sweat. It still
wasn’t enough, so Noah released his hold on
Jax long enough to jerk his own shorts down.
Jax seemed to like the idea and pulled his
own until they fell to his feet then he grabbed
Noah and jerked his jock down. Noah kicked

23/37

them both off and stood there gasping for
breath as Jax looked him over.

Before he could regain his thoughts, Jax had
them together again. The rough cotton of Jax
jock rubbed against the sensitive tip of
Noah’s dick. He whimpered and Jax
wrapped his arms around Noah, one
muscled arm around his shoulders and the
other at his waist. Noah held onto Jack’s
head, his hand gripping the side. With his
other hand, he reached around to rub his
own ass, needed to feel something there,
even if it was just his own fingers.

He’d never wanted like this before. His mind
left everything behind and all he could focus
on was this moment, the man who held him
so tightly. Noah dipped his fingers into his
own crease, and groaned when the tips
brushed his hole. It clenched and relaxed
against him, his body responding to his need
without a thought from him.

24/37

Jax’s mouth on his continued to claim own-
ership, branding Noah in a way no one ever
had before. Noah slipped a finger inside him-
self and arched further into Jax. His cock
leaked, leaving streaks of wetness against
Jax’s stomach. Jax pushed back against him,
their thick lengths both hard and aching for
more.

His breath quickened and before Noah knew
it he was exploding, his cock shooting stream
after stream against Jax. “Fuck,” he cried
softly against Jax’s lips.

Jax moaned and jerked against him and
Noah could feel the jock against him grow
wetter. Noah brushed his own still hard dick
against it, feeling Jax’s come through the
soaked material. Jax kept holding him and
leaned their foreheads together as they
fought to get their breathing under control.

25/37

Before Noah could gather his thoughts, he
heard shouts from above. He thought for a
moment that the match was over then real-
ized that the sounds weren’t right. So-
mething else was going on. He looked up,
trying to puzzle out the noises.

Jax tightened his arms around him. “Stay
here,” he commanded in a tone Noah had
never heard in use before. Jax jerked up his
shorts and ran into the locker room. Noah
righted his own clothing while trying to fig-
ure out what was going on.

When Jax came back, he had his duffle bag
in his hand and a dark t-shirt on. He tossed
another toward Noah. “Put it on. Hurry.”

Noah’s brain still wasn’t functioning at full
speed, but he complied, jerking the shirt over
his head. Jax dropped his duffle on the floor
and pulled out a wallet. And a gun. Noah
took several quick steps back before he

26/37

realized what he could see on the back of
Jax’s shirt. Three big white letters. F.B.I.

“What the hell?”

“It’s a raid,” Jax responded. “Just stay here
and you’ll be fine.”

“You’re a...”

“Yeah, I’m a fed. Just relax, okay. I’ve got you
covered.”

“What...was this...”

Jax turned to him and rested a hand against
Noah’s cheek. “This was just us. Me and you.
I swear.”

Noah felt like his universe was imploding
around him. He couldn’t seem to function
and leaned against the wall before sinking
down onto the floor. Jax knelt beside him

27/37

and rubbed his hands over his arms. “Come
on, Noah. Get ahold of yourself.”

“I don’t know what’s going on.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Just
know that I’m going to keep you safe, okay?”

Noah could only nod, hoping that Jax would
keep his word.

****

3 months later

“Hey, Joe! Someone’s here to see you.”

Noah looked up from the stack of produce
boxes he was unloading from a delivery
truck. He still wasn’t used to answering to
‘Joe’, but it was starting to get easier.

“On my way, boss.” He figured his contact
with the U.S. Marshal’s was here to check up

28/37

on him again. The guy stopped by periodic-
ally to make sure Noah was toeing the line.
He hopped from the back of the truck onto
the loading dock and went to the back office.
He had to stop and stare when he saw Jax
standing there waiting on him.

“Hi, Joe.”

Noah couldn’t speak. He just kept looking at
Jax. Hell, he didn’t even know if Jax was
really his name. Jax walked forward the few
steps that separated them and held out his
hand. Noah took it automatically. Jax gave it
a squeeze then rubbed his thumb across
Noah’s.

“Hey,” Noah finally managed to force out.

“Did you miss me?” Jax asked with a smirk.

“Not really.” Only every minute for the first
few terrifying weeks. But he wouldn’t tell
Jax that.

29/37

“That’s a shame. I couldn’t wait to see you
again. Your contact finally caved and let me
come visit. I’ll be going with you to testify.”

Oh, yeah. The trial. Noah managed to keep it
out of his thoughts most of the time. He’d
worked out a deal with the prosecutor so no
charges would be brought against him as
long as he did his part and told the jury his
story.

“That’s cool.” It really wasn’t. Noah didn’t
know if he could handle Jax in such close
proximity after what had happened the night
of the raid.

“And then I was thinking we could maybe go
somewhere, get to know each other a little
more.”

Noah realized Jax was still holding his hand
and he moved it away. He wiped it down his

30/37

black uniform pants and stuffed it into his
pocket. “Why?”

Jax stepped in even closer and ran his now
free hand over Noah’s cheek. “Because I can’t
get you out of my mind. I’ve never felt this
way before and I want to know what it
means,” Jax paused and took a breath. “Tell
me if you don’t feel the same and I’ll leave
you alone.”

Noah took a deep breath and blew it out. In a
way, he did feel the same. He just wasn’t sure
he wanted to confess that. Wasn’t sure he
was ready to say that out loud to anyone,
much less someone he didn’t even really
know. He took another breath and looked up
into Jax’s eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Jackson Michael Edwards.”

“So I can still call you Jax?”

“Yeah, you can.”

31/37

Noah couldn’t help it. He smiled. It felt weird
since he hadn’t used the expression in so
long. “Okay, Jax. If you’ll take me some-
where warm and sunny after all this is over,
I’ll go.”

Jax laughed and leaned their foreheads to-
gether. “Tired of Indiana winter already?”

“So fucking tired you don’t even know. And if
I have to unload another damn box of apples,
I’ll scream.”

Jax pulled him closer and pressed a quick
kiss to Noah’s lips. “Then let’s get going. You
have a family emergency and I’m here to take
you home.”

Noah didn’t miss the emphasis Jax put on
the word. Home. That sounded good.

32/37

The End

About Poppy Dennison

Who is Poppy Dennison, you ask? Well, let
me tell you that you aren't the only one ask-
ing that question. In fact, most of the time
even I'm hard put to answer. You see, I have
a flair for reinventing myself on a whim. I
might start the day as a one of the goddesses
of cookies, sewing and small children, but by
lunch, I've transformed into an enchantress
of the creatures of the night capturing them
to do my wicked wiles (from behind the
safety of my laptop, of course)

You can find more information on Poppy
and

her

writing

at

ht-

tp://paranormalpoppy.blogspot.com/

@Created by

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