Hooked (The Submission Fighter Book 1) (6 page)

“I’m not lying to you, you know. I don’t do this… thing. Dating. I don’t see women. I don’t take them out for a dinner. I don’t pursue them.”

“Yeah, so then what do you do?”

“I fuck them, and then I leave them.” He was blunt, and she could appreciate it, but Alice was still taken aback by just how casually he said it.

“Is that what you plan on doing with me?” She looked and felt like a deer caught in headlights.

He moved towards Alice, taking her hand gently. Then, he steered her towards the exit, as they walked outside through the side locker room doors. After a long minute, he stopped and turned back towards her. He searched her eyes, hoping to convey some of the truth he was feeling. “No. I’m not going to do that.”

She nodded, understanding.

The two walked away from the stadium and out to the streets and sidewalks. The night air enveloped them, as Alice continued to hold the victor’s hand.

“For someone who doesn’t date, you sure seem to know what you are doing.” Alice felt completely out of place at a restaurant like
Evangeline’s.
The soft, dim music, the white table cloths, and the unimposing waiters were a total departure from her regular weekly trip to a burger bar down her block. Even for a date, Micah had pulled out all the stops ordering mussels and champagne.

“Just because I do not date doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to treat a woman right.” He smiled, as he opened his first mussel briskly. Using the tiny fork, he attempted to dig in, completely spilling the content out onto the table top. He groaned, almost embarrassed, as Alice giggled at his struggles. Seeing him attempt to hold a miniscule fork in his large, manly hands had put her to tears.

“Are you seriously laughing at the man who is buying you dinner?”

She tried to stop, only finding herself laughing even further at his plight. “I’m sorry… It’s just that… It’s just that… Here was this man, a practical killer in the ring, and he is being defeated by a dead sea clam and a little fork.” She again started laughing, as she hid her face behind a napkin.

He slid back into his chair and studied her. Her laugh was as infectious as her voice. While normally he’d be insulted and turned off by her blatant ridicule, he couldn’t help but join in. The two were in near tears as the waiter came around with the bottle of champagne.

“Let’s see you do better.” He slid the pot of mussels closer to her. She grabbed two from the pot and used the empty shell of one to pry open the other. She then used the shell again to grab hold of the mussel’s meat and feed it to herself. Micah watched in awe as she did it so confidently, as if she ate mussels every day.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” This woman was full of surprises.

“Paris. I studied art there years ago. I haven’t had mussels since then though.” She slowed down her movements, showing him how to use the shell as miniature tongs.

“I would never have guessed you were an artist.”

“I wouldn’t guess that I am either. I’m a waitress. I haven’t painted in months.” Alice couldn’t even remember the last time she talked about painting.

“Why did you quit?” His question wasn’t out of line nor unpredictable, but it caught her off guard.

“Um, well, I was in an accident, I guess.” An accident sounded innocent enough. “I just couldn’t get back into it after that. Didn’t have the right inspiration.”

Micah could tell that he was stepping into new territory with her, perhaps even crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed. “An accident?”

She slumped her head downwards, unsure of how to proceed. Micah could spot her reluctance and placed his hand on to hers. His hand was warm to the touch. She could feel the calluses, as he rubbed the inside of her palm.

She gave in. “I was walking home from work one night when a man jumped at me from behind an alleyway. He held me around the waist until I let go of my purse and jacket. He wanted the ring on my finger, but I couldn’t let it go.”

Her voice broke at the thought of her father’s ring in the hands of someone else. “So, he punched me and threw me to the ground and began kicking me until he was able to pry my hands open and take it from me. I was in the hospital for a while with a broken hand and a couple of fractured ribs. After that, I didn’t feel like painting much.”

Micah was completely taken aback by Alice and her story. She told it like it was nothing, but it clearly had affected her greatly. His silence tore a hole in the conversation, opening wounds Alice wasn’t ready to really reveal.

She quickly stammered on, “You probably think I’m silly… this upset over a mugging.”

“I don’t think you’re silly. I think you’re brave. I think you are stronger than you think.” He meant every word.

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Micah found himself aware that Alice’s story was more than just that. He actually felt for her. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to go hunt down the man who did it. He needed to do something. His knuckles grew white as they gripped the chair. An idea quickly came to mind. “I can teach you to fight.” 

“What? Me? I don’t fight. I don’t even argue, really.” Alice was telling the truth. The last thing she wanted to do was walk away with more scars and an injured ego. She was perfectly fine with being the meek and mild girl, afraid of darkened alleys.

Micah’s mind was still racing at the possibilities. “Do you want to get out of here?” Before Alice could answer, he was flagging the waiter down and requesting the bill.

“Where are we going?” Alice asked. The two hadn’t even had dinner or really touched the champagne.

“To the gym. You need to get in the ring.” As he quickly tossed money into the waiter’s billfold, he once again grabbed her hand, and the two were off. The valet flagged down a cab as Micah barked directions to his arena.

“Micah, it’s late… won’t the gym be closed?” She had a good point, but he quickly pulled out his key ring and brandished a key.

“I like to train after hours on my own.” Micah had spent many nights training alone in the still and empty gym. He paid a premium for the solitude, but it was worth every single penny.

Tonight was no exception. The expansive gym space was deserted for the evening. A few lights remained on, including one spotlighting the boxing ring in the center of the room. Micah headed straight for it, grabbing a pair of gloves from a box and a blue, body sized mat from a closet.

He jumped in, waiting for her. “Come on now. I don’t have all night.”

“Are you serious? I’m not exactly dressed for it.” She gestured towards her heels and Caroline’s ridiculously tight dress.

“You could take it off… Or you could leave it on. Your call. Just take those damn silly shoes off.” He was never a fan of heels. They seemed so unnecessary.

She slid her shoes off and walked towards the mat; he reached out his hand and helped her into the blue and red ring. Wrapping her hands in gauze, he then placed two beat up boxing gloves on her hands.

“Okay,” he instructed, “hit me.” He held up his body mat at her eye level and ducked downwards. She laughed knowing that whatever she threw wasn’t worth such preparation. “I’m serious! Hit me, girl!”

She took a swipe. The force, or lack thereof, barely registered a
puff
as she made contact with the mat. He shouted at her louder, instructing her to put more energy behind it. She hit again, this time making a bigger imprint.

As he continued to shout, the angrier she found herself getting. Her eyes focused on the mat, as she felt new sensations build up inside her. The mat Micah held wasn’t just some piece of gym equipment. It became the men that Caroline brought home who lingered way too long. It was Pete assigning her crappy hours because she refused to sleep with him. It was the man who got away with her father’s ring.

“GET MAD, ALICE!” He watched her punch wildly, uncontrollably. He recognized that intensity as something inside of himself. It was primitive and untrained, but it was ferocious. And it was exhilarating to watch someone like Alice find herself on his side of the ring. His heart pounded with each of her hits. As she began to breathe heavier, his own air became harder and harder to find. Her green eyes flashed and flared, her face perspired with the action. Her collarbone jutted out from her dress and her tiny arms turned splotchy red from the effort. Yet neither she, nor Micah, could care less.

In between her slower jabs, he quickly dropped the mat by his side. He caught her hands mid-punch, as Alice failed to see him change the scene. He took off her gloves and tossed them out of the ring. In her haze of memories, anger, and wild abandonment, she only had a second to notice Micah, as he grabbed her body from around the waist and pulled her into his own. His arms pinned her in place, giving her no option but to reach around his chest and neck.

She stroked the curvature of his body as she waited, breathless and tired. He too was panting, but his eyes glowed like sparks in the night, catching the light from above the ring. She lifted her face, as he lowered his. Their lips met as both of their bodies collapsed to the ground. On their knees in the center of the ring, the two kissed wildly, deeply. Each could feel the other’s racing heart up against their own chest, as the intensity increased with each movement. Alice mimicked his movements, quick and twisting, as he rocked into her and then pulled her back. Their bodies still entwined in Micah’s deadly grip and Alice’s warm embrace.

Softly, he moved her body down to the ring’s floor, moving the discarded mat out from under her. His lips lowered from hers, down to her chin and traced the peaks and valleys of her neck. His left arm moved from his lock to run his fingers through her long hair, twisting the pieces in his grasping fingers. His other hand locked onto her, pushing sensually into her. The rest of his body was on top of hers, but angled to the side.

The sensation of his kisses and the way he tugged gently at her hair was enough to send trembles down her spine. Her head instinctively arched back, pushing her chest and breasts into his. His fingers moved from her hair to the straps of her red dress, as he pushed the material down the side of her arm. She wiggled her way out of it, exposing her skin to more of Micah’s kisses. His right arm tugged down the dress as he made his way down the center of her chest, never lingering in one place too long.

She was exposed. Her breasts heaved up and down against the fabric of her nude-colored strapless bra. Her white panties came next, their contents pulsating within, as he stopped for a moment to take in the smell of her.

A deep sigh and the turn of his head brushed up against her inner thigh, urging her to call out,
Micah,
in a hushed whisper. He finished slipping the rest of her dress off, and then quickly made his way back to her top. She said his name once more as she caught his eyes. They stared longingly into each other’s faces, not certain they should proceed any further.

Alice took the initiative. She jumped back into his arms, startling him backwards down to the ground. As he lay there, stunned and confused, she straddled him, gripping madly at the hem of his black t-shirt as she removed it. The expanse of his chest and shoulders presented themselves to her, as she admired her handiwork.

She began at the very top of his clean shaven head. Her bosom gently pressed into his face, as she made her way down the edges of his beaten face and then lowering to his chin, his neck, his shoulders. Following a line of black tattoos, she skimmed the rest of his body with a mixture of alternating tongue and lips until she made it to his waist.

He watched her with wide, fascinated eyes, as she undid his jeans and slid them off of his legs. Her lips and tongue continued onwards into his mound of dark hair till it found the soft, sweet skin of his cock. She gently kissed the bottom of the shaft and worked her way up towards the top until she hit the sweet spot. He leaned onto the back of his arms to watch her begin to take more and more of him in her warm, wet mouth. She moved up and down without abandon, as if she was still taking punches.

Before she could go further, he grabbed her shoulders and lifted her to him. Flipping her back down, he removed her panties and unhooked her bra without hesitation. Without a word, his long length was inside her, as she used her legs to hook around his back, pushing him in deeper. He began pumping slowly, as he explored the sensations of her body. However, the way that she gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, begged him for more. He sped up as he rocked in and out, in and out.

Alice wanted more, to be closer, to feel him. Without releasing him, she pulled herself into his arms, as he straddled her on his knees. His hands slid on the curve of her back, gripping for more, as he could feel her pussy tightening and softening around his shaft. The warmth of her internal grip beat against the sensitive tip of his cock.

She quickly bounced to match his pushes and pulls, as his hands guided her, leading her to ecstasy. She could feel every centimeter of him drive in deeper than the time before. With each new exploration, her body swelled and swayed, and she could feel the need burn from her core.  Instead of leaning back and away, she moved forward so that his hard, thumping curve matched her own. It was all she could do to stop herself from ripping his skin to be closer to the man inside her.