The Fighter's Girl (4 page)

****

Brock feinted left, then brought his right fist up and slammed it into the red punching bag. Over and over he did this, beating the hell out of it until his muscles ached and sweat poured off him. The training facility was the standard set-up, with a few rings in the center, punching bags hanging from the ceiling, and weights, treadmills, and mats scattered around. He felt like an ass, an idiot, and the biggest fuck-wad in the world. He had kissed Izzy, and then pretty much made her feel like shit. She hadn’t said the words, but those emotions had been clear as day on her face. When he broke the kiss he had felt like he rushed her. The two shots he had taken before she came home hadn’t gotten him drunk, but it had relaxed him enough that he actually made a move on her. He didn’t even drink like that, not with his training schedule, but it seemed he was saying “fuck it” to a lot of things. Before he could tell her that he was sorry for breaking the kiss, and that he wanted so much more with her, she had cut him off, thinking the worst. He hadn’t even bothered to correct her, because he had sensed the hurt and tension coming from her. It was an asshole thing to do, just to walk away, but he had felt like a monumental dick and honestly, hadn’t known what to say to make things right at that moment.

“Brock,
wanna
play in the ring?” London lifted his tapped up fists in the air and started bouncing on the balls of his feet. His grin was wide, and he was just as sweaty as Brock. Both of London’s arms were covered in multi-colored tattoos, and his blond hair was cut close to his head. Brock had been training for the past four hours, but he didn’t want a break, didn’t want to call it a day until his limbs felt like pudding and all of this extra energy and his arousal left him, well, as much as he could get rid of. Although that seemed like a lost cause, because even whipped right now he still felt that warmth of desire for Izzy moving through his veins.

“Dude, I will as long as you want your ass handed to you.”

London scoffed and tilted his head to an open ring. “Bring it on.”

He followed his friend to suit up with some head gear, and then they both climbed in the ring. A few of the other fighters stopped what they were doing to watch, and even Harlond, their trainer, stopped talking to Sunny, his daughter who also worked at the center, and watched them. Brock focused all of his attention on London. His friend was a killer in the cage. He joked and let loose at times, but he also found in the underground circuit, and was a beast once he got going. He was like a damn machine. Nothing held back, and he was undefeated. London also had a mean side shot that tended to ruin kidneys, but Brock wasn’t too bad himself, and was itching to lay someone on their ass. What better person than London?

“You’re a cocky bastard.” Brock grinned at him, and the other man flipped him off. He needed to watch out for those kidney shots, because if London got those in it would bring Brock to his knees and have him pissing blood for a week.

“Yeah, but that is what makes me an animal.” London bared his teeth in a snarl and started bouncing on the balls of his feet again. They circled each other, but Brock wasn’t in the mood for cat and mouse games. He moved quickly but efficiently, and connected his right fist with London’s belly. The fighter grunted, but grinned again and swung out. Brock blocked it and brought his left fist out for a side shot of his own, but London anticipated it and moved to the side. They did this over and over again, each one getting a hit before the other could. More sweat coated Brock’s body, but the adrenalin and endorphins that pumped through his veins made him almost high.

He could see London’s eyes dart to the side, and he knew who was there, knew that his friend had a thing for the forbidden fruit. “Man, if you’re thinking about trying to get with that you might as well cut your own balls off, because you know Harlond will have them as a necklace before you can even speak to Sunny.”

“Fuck you.” London’s anger was starting to come through, and Brock knew he’d struck a nerve. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“No?” They continued to circle each other. “What I see is you checking out Sunny McGrieve, and you know that’s bad news. If Harlond doesn’t get you Mack will kick your ass.” Talk of the Russian fighter who was like
Sunny’s
big brother had London scowling even more. That was when Brock moved in for the kill. Swinging a right hook, and then immediately a left, he delivered four consecutive hits to London before his friend even got one in. His anger made him sloppy, but it was the type of anger that fueled a guy in a fight. It was the frustrated kind of anger that had a guy not thinking before he swung out. London moved fast and clocked Brock in the side of the head. Immediately his right ear started to ring. The headgear protected the fighters training for the most part, but they could still get knocked out with a perfectly placed hit. Brock stumbled back and shook his head.

All right, end this shit now.

“Come on, pussy.” London rolled his shoulders back and gestured for him to come forward. They trained together, and he knew his friend’s moves as well as he did his own. He was Brock’s best friend, but could still be an asshole. He charged forward, brought London down with the momentum and force of his actions, and wailed on him. After several minutes of London trying to block the moves and failing, he tapped out, and Brock rolled over and onto his back. They were silent for several long moments, their breathing drowning out the sounds of the fighters working out.

“Shit, dude.” Brock’s chest rose and fell with such force he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. “You got sloppy out there, man. If you had focused you could have taken me.” He wasn’t cocky enough to know that the twenty-seven year old couldn’t have brought him down. He was a bit bigger and faster than Brock, but his mind had been elsewhere. Brock had thought about Izzy and the fact he wanted her so badly. Coupled with London’s clear lack of concentration, it had been enough for him to take down his opponent. After a moment London chuckled, all of his anger instantly fading.

“You need to get laid, man.”

Brock pushed himself up and took off his headgear. He looked over at London who was still on his back and breathing just as heavily. His lip was split, but it was clear his friend didn’t give a shit.

“Sorry about kicking your ass.”

London flipped him off but smiled. “Seriously, Brock, we need to get you some pussy, like ASAP.”

“Nah, man.”
He could only think about Izzy lately, and about how good she would feel. Just thinking about another female anymore had his damn dick shriveling up in his jeans.

“Come on. If you don’t want a little strange, then at least head over to that new club with us tonight and let lose. Get drunk and maybe that will calm you the fuck down.”

Brock gave London a suspicious look. He held up his hands.

“I
ain’t
gonna
force you to fuck. I don’t even care if your dick falls off form lack of use. I want some pussy tonight, and I figure you’d want to head over there with me.”

He wouldn’t get drunk, because the couple of shots he had and then kissing Izzy had been enough for the whole fucking month. “Yeah, all right, but I’m not going to drink. I had my limit already.”

London shrugged and pushed himself up. Brock noticed him looking over to where Sunny had been, but she had since left. “I’ll meet you there.” London clapped him on the back and stood.

Brock wanted Izzy, and was about to make things right. He might have said he’d wait for her to come to him, but fuck that. He was going to claim the shit out of Izzy, and he’d do it tonight.

Chapter Three

Caleb pulled his truck into an empty parking spot several blocks away from The Rhino Room. It was going on ten, and people made their way down the sidewalk toward the club. It was Saturday night, so that was also a factor in the numerous scantily clad individuals ready to lower their inhibitions and expectations. The three of them climbed out of the truck, and Izzy adjusted her skirt and pulled her tank down so it at least covered her belly.

When Maria had come over, seen her in a pair of jeans and semi tight t-shirt, she had shaken her head, grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. She had then proceeded to rummage through her closet until she found an outfit that she approved of. Izzy wasn’t a small girl by any means, and at a size sixteen she tended to cover up the majority of her skin out of self-consciousness. These were her clothes, but ones she had not worn in a very long time. She felt naked in them, and despite Caleb and Maria praising her on how nice she looked, Izzy still felt exposed in a very uncomfortable way. But this was what she wanted. She was actually surprised they even fit her still. But she wanted to enjoy herself, so she sucked it up, kicked her uneasiness over how she looked in the ass, and lifted her chin. She hadn’t told them about her run-in with Brock, at least not yet. She knew eventually she would tell them, but in all honesty she was embarrassed, especially when he had acted like touching her had been akin to being doused in fire. He hadn’t been able to look at her let alone touch her again after all of that. And here she was, trying to drown her sorrows and pity in booze and good company.

They made their way down the sidewalk with the rest of the clubbers, and when the big neon sign with the outline of a rhino came into view, a little thrill of excitement passed through her, but that died down when she saw the ridiculously long line of people waiting to get in.

“It’ll be hours before we get in,” Maria muttered as she eyed the line, too.

“Oh ye of little faith.”
They both looked at Caleb. He tilted his head to the bouncer, and when Izzy got a good look at him recognition settled in.

“Is that Matt?” She looked at Caleb, and he nodded. Matt, a frequent Slippery When Wet customer, was over six feet tall, ripped like a damn tank, and had the deepest, most intense voice imaginable. He was also gay, and came in with his boyfriend to buy an assortment of sex toys and videos. But tonight he wasn’t wearing his trademarked cargos and polo shirt, or his ball cap. He looked like a badass standing there in all black, his expression like a freaking pissed-off hit-man. Izzy considered him a friend, and hoped that fact helped them bypass the hours of wait that was ahead of them.

“Hey, Matt.”
The bouncer turned with a scowl toward them, but when he saw who they were a smile broke out across his face.

“Well, shit.” Matt and Caleb clapped each other on the back in the way macho men did, and then Matt turned and enveloped Izzy and then Maria in a big bear hug.

“I didn’t know you were the guard dog for this place.” He pulled back and actually looked sheepish as Izzy continued. “I thought you worked at some kind of accounting firm or something.”

“Yeah, well Brody decided he wanted to work here, and I couldn’t let him get thrown to the wolves. I decided to try my hand at being a bouncer. That way I can keep the assholes away from him if they give him shit.” Brody was Matt’s long-term boyfriend, and a little thing. At only five-foot-seven, with the build of a swimmer, Brody looked the complete opposite of the Hulk standing right in front of her.

“Aren’t you
sweet.
” She nudged him with her shoulder, because for a big, bruising man, he had a soft spot for his lover, and the strength to protect him above all else.

“
Shh
, don’t let that shit get out.” He winked and unhooked the rope for them to enter. “Have fun, kids.” They waved and entered the dimly lit, slightly smoky club. The Rhino Room wasn’t set up like most dance clubs. On one side there was more of a sports bar feel with pool tables, leather couches, and big screen televisions. The neon-lit bar took up one whole wall, with bottles and bottles of liquor lined in front of the mirrored shelves. One the other side of the club had more of a retro feel to it with the hanging go-go dancer cages, a few tables spread out, and a polished dance floor right below a spinning mirrored ball. Bodies writhed to the fast paced beat, but before Izzy could stare at their sexually suggestive moves for much longer Maria had a hold of her hand and was leading them through the thick throng of bodies to one of the empty tables.

“What do you want to drink?” Caleb yelled over the music, and Izzy shrugged. “I’ll just get you something strong.” She nodded and watched him move to the bar. Maria sat beside her and leaned in close to her ear.

“This place is insane.”

All Izzy could do was nod in response as she people watched. The women wore clothes that were the size of
Izzy’s
underwear, and some of the guys even had their shirts off. The scent of sweat, spilled beer, and sex filled the air, but for some reason it wasn’t a disgusting combination, and was even electrically charged.

They sat there for nearly ten minutes, and still Caleb was at the bar. But judging by the number of people packed in here, and the fact all of them were thirsty, she expected the wait to be that long.

“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.