The Fighter's Girl Read online

  “Damn, you’re a pretty thing.” The slurred voice that came right beside her had Izzy looking up. A big guy with shaved black hair towered over her. His eyes were glossy, and he weaved slightly. He stank like cigarettes, and the bottom half of his shirt was wet. From the strong smell of beer she assumed that was the little mishap he had. Clearly he was trashed, and Izzy wasn’t in the mood for getting hit on by a drunken fool.

  “Uh, thanks.” She looked away and knitted her brows at Maria.

  “You wanna dance with me?” He held his hand out, but ended up having to grab onto the edge of the table to steady himself.

  “I’m good, but thanks.” Offering him a forced smile, she hoped he took the hint she wasn’t interested and walked away. Izzy was used to being hit on at the sex shop, mainly by the lonely old guys that came in to buy the porno movies and pocket pussies.

  “You seriously turning me down?” A scowl covered his face.

  “I just got here with my friends, so I kind of want to hang out with them for a while. Besides, my boyfriend went to get us some drinks.” She looked back at Maria and smiled. Hey, she would have said anything to get this douche away from her.

  He stood there for another moment, not moving or speaking. It got to the point where the awkwardness started to grow.

  “I noticed you as soon as you came in, but only saw one guy with you two, and his hands were on her.” He lifted his chin in Maria’s direction. “Unless you guys are all about the orgies? If that’s the case I don’t mind sharing.” Yuck. She didn’t have time to respond because he was already talking again. “I’ll save you a dance, sweet cheeks.” It wasn’t a proposition or a question, but more of a command. Before she could tell him not to worry about that he stumbled back into the crowd of people.

  “What in the hell was that about?” Izzy shrugged.

  “I’m sure we will find a lot of winners here tonight.” Maria shook her head.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right, but damn, do the crazy ones that can’t take no for an answer have to come out of the woodwork so soon?” Izzy started laughing.

  “That’s usually how it works.”

  Finally Caleb returned with the drinks. “God damn, is it crazy up there.” Izzy didn’t point out it was crazy in the whole place. He sat down and set some kind of shot in front of her and Maria, and brought his beer bottle to his lips.

  “What is this?” Izzy had to yell to be heard.

  “It’s a double shot of straight up whiskey. I thought you wanted something hard?” She did, but a shot of whisky? Ugh, not much of a taste for her, but whatever. “It’ll get the job done. Bottoms up.” He grinned and tipped the top of his bottle to them.

  She looked at Maria, saw her friend wore the same disgusted look, but they both shrugged in response. They threw the shots back in one swift move, and as soon as the alcohol trailed down her throat she gagged and wheezed out all in the same breath. It was foul and nasty, and the fire that raced through her body had the hairs on her arms standing on end.

  “Shit.” Caleb had his head back and was laughing so hard tears came out the corner of his eyes. A look at Maria showed Izzy that her friend was in the same distressed state, with a red face and her own tears making tracks down her cheeks. It only took a couple of minutes for the liquor to start taking effect, and since Izzy rarely drank, it was doing a mighty fine job of easing the knots in her body.

  “Let’s dance.” Maria stood and grabbed her hand and pulled her up. Caleb stood and grabbed their intertwined hands.

  “Stay where I can see you, all right?”

  Maria leaned in and kissed him on the lips. They both nodded and pushed through the people grinding on the dance floor. They made sure to stay within eye shot of Caleb, and once Maria started moving the music took hold of Izzy as well. They let go of each other’s hands, and Izzy closed her eyes, feeling so good from the beat of the music and the euphoria the alcohol caused inside of her. She swayed her hips, lifted her arms in the air, and just let go. The heat from the crush of bodies was intense, but it felt relaxing, and the warmth surrounded her and filled her all in the same breath.

  ****

  Brock leaned against the wall. The Rhino Room was packed to the brim and only seemed to be getting even more crowded with each passing minute. Brock and his boys hung out on the sports bar side of the club, and were currently in the middle of an intense game of pool. Of course that was only because London was getting spanked, and was bitching like a little pussy.

  “This is bullshit. I think the table is uneven.” Brock grinned at London’s crying and pushed off the wall.

  “What a damn baby.” Phillip, another fighter who had come in from Las Vegas about a year ago, started laughing when London scowled like he had just skinned his knee. Brock moved to the table, lined up his shot, and cracked the balls. A busty blonde came up and stood on the other side of the pool table. She leaned down, popped out her ass, and pushed her arms together so her tits were nearly spilling out of her low-cut shirt.

  “Hey, aren’t you the fighter that took on Tame a month ago?” Her make-up was a thick coat on her face, her lips were too plump, and he had no doubt she was a Chaser. On any other occasion he wouldn’t have bothered with the small talk. Brock would have just taken her hand and led the nameless female to a semi secluded spot, pulled up her dress, and fucked her until his dick was limp. But as he looked at her, a female that he would have normally gone after because she was fake as shit, he only felt disgust. She was nothing like Izzy. His girl was completely natural, without the cloying effects of make-up, or the ridiculously tight clothes that left nothing to the imagination.

  His girl?

  Fuck, he was losing it, but he had no regrets, especially when it came to her. When Brock wanted something, he got it, and although he wanted Izzy something fierce, it wasn’t just about fucking her. He had screwed up royally, and was too much of a pussy to bring it forward. It was insane that he wanted to claim her with such a powerful intensity, because never in his life had he felt this way. He may have lived with her for half a year, been around her longer than any other female in his life, but it wasn’t until recently, when he saw her reaction to him, and really let himself be open to the idea of being with a woman for more than one night, that Brock knew she was going to be his.

  She. Would. Be. His.

  He was going to take Izzy, she was going to be his, and every fucking person would know it.

  The Chaser moved closer, not needing to say a damn word to get her point across. She wanted to fuck a fighter.

  “I’m not interested, sweetheart.” Her lips pursed together, and she slowly rose. Clearly this chick wasn’t used to being turned down, but then again there weren’t a lot of guys that didn’t take up the offer of free pussy.

  “But I am.” London grinned and crooked his finger at her. Like a predictable Chaser, she gave him one long look and sauntered over to London.

  “Didn’t I see you at the fight with McKnight and you knocked him out within the first five minutes?” Brock had to give her credit. She knew her shit. London didn’t answer, just grinned and patted his lap. She hopped right on and wrapped her thin arms around his neck. London may seem like a huge man-whore, and he was, to an extent, but Brock could see the subtle hard emotions that passed over his friend’s face. For as hard as London stared at Sunny, and the fact they both knew he could never have her, Brock felt sorry for the guy. Burying his dick in available, random pussy wasn’t the answer, but he had no place in telling London that.

  The skirt the Chaser wore was obscenely short, and it was clear she’d opted to go commando tonight. Turning away from the sight, Brock scanned the dance floor. The bodies were shoulder to shoulder, and the people were pretty much dry humping with each other to the rap that blared through the speakers.

  “You good, man?” Phillip came to stand beside him.

  “Yeah.” He offered a smile, but it was forced. “I’m good, just got a lot on my mind lately.” When Phillip didn�
��t respond Brock turned and looked at him. “What?”

  “This about some girl?”

  Brock was good at keeping his emotions in check, knew how to not show his hand, so to speak, but clearly he hadn’t done a good enough job if Phillip could read him so easily. Letting emotions out was dangerous and made someone vulnerable, but when it came to Izzy, he was doing a lot of things out of character. “That obvious, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Brock glared at him. “You asked, man, and I’m not going to lie.” Phillip grinned. “You’re the master of keeping your shit on lockdown, but it must be some deep shit for me to be able to see it written right across your face.” The noise surrounding them was deafening, but in his head everything seemed eerily quiet. “So, if I’m not overstepping any bounds, why are you thinking so hard?” Brock looked at Phillip again. “Clearly this girl has you acting out of character, so if you care about her, then what is there to think about?”

  It wasn’t that Brock was trying to fight it, because in fact that was the opposite. He wanted her, and had every intention of being with her. “I don’t plan on fighting how I feel, Phillip.” He slapped Brock on the back, and they looked at each other.

  “I’m glad, because honestly, fucking these random chicks is getting old.” Yeah, Brock couldn’t agree more. There was no emotional connection, and Brock was getting too damn old to keep on this lifestyle. “And I would never admit this to anyone, but shit man, I hate that these Chasers only want to be with me because I fight. Does beating the shit out of guys really do it for them, or is it the fact that we got some money in the bank?”

  Their level of fighting didn’t make them millionaires, well not most of them, but it did offer a fair amount of decent money. He could have moved out of Izzy’s, and had only moved in with her in the first place because his move to Ohio had been somewhat rapid, but he was dragging his feet on getting out. Now though, he wanted to be near her.

  “I hear you. I’m getting too old for this shit, too.”

  London made a deep groan, and they both glanced over at him. The blonde had her hand down his pants, and they were fused at the mouths.

  “Looks like London is still all about the random ones, though.”

  Did any of the other guys notice how London stared at Sunny, or was it just him?

  “You wanna play?” Brock gestured to the pool table.

  “Hell yeah.”

  When Phillip started to rack up the balls Brock glanced back at the dance floor. When he got home tonight he wouldn’t fuck around in telling Izzy how he felt. There wasn’t a point in denying himself, and he wasn’t going to wait for her to make a move. He was an underground cage fighter, beat people’s asses without waiting for them to come after him, and he wasn’t going to stand back on this. And there, right as the sea of bodies parted, he saw her swaying to the music. Izzy looked so fucking gorgeous. The skirt she wore was short, but not scantily so, and her shirt showed all of her luscious curves. Her eyes were closed, and Brock could tell that she wasn’t just listening to the music, but feeling it wash through her. If this wasn’t a sign for him to move his ass and go to her, then he didn’t know what was.

  “I gotta go.” He didn’t wait for Phillip to respond, didn’t give a shit, because he was going after his girl.

  Chapter Four

  A big hand spanned her belly, and a small noise of surprise left her when the person tightened their hold on her and spun her around. Before she lost her balance from the quick movement, and could look into the face of the person who held her, another arm wrapped around her waist and she was pulled into his hard chest. Before she even craned her neck back to see who held her she knew who it was. His scent enveloped her, filled her lungs, and caused her panties to grow moist. She let her eyes travel up his chest, over the swatch of golden muscular flesh revealed right above his collar, and up into his pale grey eyes. They reminded her of liquid silver, molten and swirling with so many different emotions. Brock looked furious as he stared down at her, and all she could do was get lost in his stare and the feel of his body pressed to hers.

  Oh God. Brock was a man to compare all men to. She couldn’t help but feel a spark of arousal at the sight of him. He emitted power and a dark sexuality that made Izzy’s toes curl. He took a step back, held her hands out to her sides, and let his eyes travel up and down her body. He didn’t touch her except for his hands on hers, but it felt like a million little fingers skating across her flesh. Tonight he wore loose faded blue jeans that hung low on his lean hips. A crisp white t-shirt was stretched over wide shoulders and only emphasized how hard-muscled he was underneath it. His touch felt like fire along her hands, and raced up her arms. Izzy let her eyes travel over his forearms. They were muscular and thick, with ropes of veins that moved up the wide expanse. Licking her lips and feeling no shame as she continued her appraisal all the way down to the big bulge that pressed against his fly, all she wanted was to press close to him again and see if she could make it get bigger.

  He took a step closer to her again, and let go of her arm, but he didn’t make her wait long for his touch. Sliding one of his hands up her back and to her neck, he gripped her nape, and her damn clit pulsed to life. Oh yeah he was all male, and reeking of hot sweaty nights of raw sex. Her eyes fluttered closed when he leaned in and his warm, sweet breath teased the shell of her ear.

  “I’m surprised to see you here tonight.” He took his other hand and gripped her hip, curling his long fingers into her flesh until sparks of pleasure/pain coursed through her. She didn’t answer, but then again he didn’t give her much time to respond. “You here with a date, Izzy?”

  The way he phrased it seemed possessive and territorial, but that couldn’t be right, could it? Their mouths were only an inch apart, and they breathed the same air.

  “No, I’m not here with anyone.” He didn’t speak, didn’t smirk, didn’t do anything but keep his eyes locked with hers. The beat of the music switched to a new, slower one, and he pulled her closer.

  “That’s real good, Izzy.” Brock started swaying to the music again, and it was like they became one as they moved in sync. Tunneling both of his hands in her hair, he tilted her head back and ran the tip of his nose up the length of her neck. A shiver skated over her flesh at the blatant sexual act. When he was by her ear once more, he said, “Even if you were here with someone else, I would have fought for the right to claim you.”

  Holy. Shit. His words inflamed her. He smelled so damn good, like soap and clean sweat, and the more concentrated inhalations she got, the more she became intoxicated by him. Izzy didn’t delve too deeply into the fact she was doing a little Dirty Dancing with her roommate whom she had been lusting after for the last six months. She also didn’t try to understand why he was touching her so intimately, why he was growling deeply into her ear like he was a predator and she was his prey, when he had all but run after kissing her. Everything was heightened inside of her, and all it had taken was a simple touch, a soft whisper, or the scent of everything that was Brock.

  Suddenly his hands were on her hips and he was turning her around. With her back to his chest, Izzy felt his defined pecs and his abdomen that felt like he had paint rollers under his shirt. His hard, huge cock dug into her lower back, but Izzy wanted more. She stole a glance over her shoulder and saw Maria was back at the table with Caleb. They both watched her. Caleb’s eyes were trained right on her, his brotherly affection written clearly on his face, but also a smirk covered his mouth. Maria’s eyes were wide with feminine appreciation.

  They continued to move together. His hands were big, his fingers long, and she felt as though he encompassed her entire waist when he tightened his hold on her. She felt wholly feminine since she wasn’t small by any means. Her shirt rose up so a strip of flesh showed, but before she could reach down and cover her rounded tummy, Brock was stilling her hands.

  “No, Izzy, I like being able to touch your skin, and to feel your curves. It drives me fucking crazy, and makes my cock harder tha
n hell.” Everything stilled inside of her: her movements, her heart, even her breathing. “Let’s not play coy and pretend that there isn’t this fucking insane attraction between us, baby. It was there when we kissed, and I was too much of a scared jackass to realize it.”

  He kissed the side of her neck, so, so softly. Had she heard him right over the loud thumping beat of the music? He didn’t need to repeat himself, because a second later he was sliding his fingers along the small area of skin exposed. Chills wracked her body, and Izzy closed her eyes and absorbed that this was really going on.

  “I just … I don’t know what’s going on.” The song switched to something a bit slower, more seductive, and that just made what they were doing even more sexually charged.

  “What’s there to understand, Izzy? I want you, and you want me.” When he turned her around this last time it was to cup the back of her neck and bring his mouth down on hers. That first touch of his lips to hers had her heart pounding so fast and hard that it drowned out the sound of the music. He slid his tongue along her bottom lip, stroked her into opening for him, and then plunged in and out of her mouth like he was fucking her. The kiss they shared in the kitchen didn’t even compare to what they shared right now. Her clit throbbed, and she felt wanton as she pressed closer. A low growl left him, and she felt the vibrations all the way to her toes. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and what I know you want to say.” Although he spoke he didn’t move his lips from hers.

  Could she actually do this, give herself to her roommate and quite possibly ruin what they had? Could she finally allow herself the release of feeling him inside of her body, of letting go and going after what she really wanted when she knew of his violent career? He was dangerous in every way, but the pull of wanting him made no logical sense, and that was why she nodded.

  “Yes. I want you Brock. I want you now.” He slid his hands up her sides and framed her face with his big hands and kissed her deeply, passionately, and like a man who couldn’t get enough. Everything was going so fast, but there was no denying it felt like everything fell right into place. Their tongues dueled together, sliding off each other and mimicking exactly what she wanted him to do between her legs. Her knees were weak, her head was foggy, and beads of sweat lined the dip of her spine.