The Fighter's Girl (6 page)

“Let’s go.”

His grin was all straight, white teeth, and she couldn’t help but associate him with a wolf ready to pounce.
“A woman after my own heart.”
He kissed her once more and led them through the club and out the front doors. He held onto her hand and led them down the sidewalk and to one of the many parking lots that were downtown. The night was a nice combination of cool air and warm weather.

“Hey, pretty girl. I thought you were going to save me a dance.” They halted when a deep voice came from one of the small alleyways between the massive buildings. It was dark like spilled ink, and automatically Brock had her behind him, shielding her with his big body. She looked around his shoulder, the flight or fight instinct screaming at her to get the hell out of there.

The man who had tried to get her to dance with him earlier stepped out of the shadows. He had a joint between his lips and took one long drag before flicking it to the side. The scent of pot came from him like a punch to the face, and she wrinkled her nose. He was greasy and mean as hell, and she knew he was looking for trouble. Two more guys stepped out from the darkness and flanked him. They weren’t as big and muscular as the drunken guy, or even as big as Brock, but there were three of them, and it was clear they weren’t going to just walk away, not when they made a half circle around them. The lot that Brock had parked in was more off the beaten path, and there wasn’t any foot traffic coming their way. Fear filled Izzy at the knowledge there was most likely going to be a fight happening in just a few short moments.

“
This your
boyfriend, sweet cheeks?” Izzy didn’t bother responding or making eye contact with them. Instead she rested her head on the center of Brock’s muscular back and closed her eyes.

“Brock, let’s just go.” Her words were low so only he heard. He tensed, and then he reached around to smooth his hand up and down her outer thigh, as if he was trying to reassure her.

“If I were you I’d just walk away.” Brock’s words were low, almost deadly in their intensity, and if these guys
were
smart they’d leave. But she didn’t need to hear what they were going to say next to know they weren’t. Izzy just didn’t want this confrontation, didn’t want any bloodshed, and just wanted to get the hell out of here and back to what her plans had been with Brock. There was no doubt she felt safe with him, no doubt he could hold his own, but could one man be victorious over three?

As if he read her mind Brock said, “Don’t worry, baby. I take on guys bigger and meaner than this every day.”

She couldn’t see his face, but she did hear the excitement and smile in his voice. Was he looking forward to this? Fighting was what he did for his profession, so she supposed it wouldn’t have been that strange for him to anticipate this, but where she was nervous and antsy, he was calm and collected. That went a long way in reassuring her that things weren’t as bad as they seemed.

The big guy started chuckling, which in turn had his two goonies behind him doing the same. “Man, you are asking for a shitload of trouble that you don’t want.” Brock didn’t respond. He let go of her thigh, and the sound of him cracking his knuckles pierced the still of the night.

“Nah, man.
I think you just bought yourself a whole lot of trouble.” Brock started backing up. “Baby, go to the truck, and I’ll be there in a bit.” She wasn’t going to be one of those girls that tried to get the guy to leave, because she wasn’t dumb enough to think that Brock would actually listen, and she also knew she would be more of a burden than a help if she stayed. Without taking his eyes from the men, he fished out his keys and handed them to her. “Go on, sweetheart. This will be over with pretty quick.”

“We can avoid all of this if you just let us have a little bit of fun with the girl.” Bile rose in her throat, and she forced it down. What kind of man, or men in this instance, bartered for a little time with a female? Especially when it would be forced and not consensual?

Insane, manic, and fucked up men,
Izzy
.
Brock stayed calm and reached behind him again to curl his fingers around her waist.

“Go on, baby. The truck is in the first parking lot right in the first row.” He gave her a gentle push, and Izzy walked backward so she could keep her eyes on them. No way in hell was she going to turn her back when it was clear they wanted her as their entertainment for the evening. . The drunken one that had hit on her earlier gave her a slow, perverted smirk. When she was several feet away the flurry of movement started. The three men all charged toward Brock, but he stayed still until they were too close for her comfort. There was a moment when she thought about going to help, helping him in some way, but once again, she wasn’t a fool to think she wouldn’t end up getting in the way and hurt. She turned and ran harder and faster than she ever had, and when she got to the truck she had it unlocked and was inside in a matter of seconds.
 
She had never seen an actual fight, and certainly never been the cause of one. Adrenalin pumped through her veins, and she expected one of the men to follow her, but none of them did.

The way the truck was positioned had her staring straight ahead and right at the fight. She was still a good distance away, but not so far that she couldn’t see everything that was happening. A gasp left her when one of the guys hit Brock right in the side of the head. Should she call the cops? Doing so would put a stop to the violence, but it would also have Brock going to jail as well, whether it was self-defense or not. But before she could decide on what she should do Brock turned into a violent, almost animalistic machine, and all Izzy could do was
stare
at the madman he became with wide eyes and parted lips.

Chapter Five

The hit that came from his right had cracked his head to the side. Ears ringing and head fuzzy, Brock let the pain further fuel his rage. These assholes actually thought they were going to have Izzy, and that he would just give her to them to stop this? Not fucking likely. There might be three of them, but he was a trained MMA fighter, loved the thrill the violence caused in him, and always wanted more. Besides he wasn’t in a cage right now, and that meant he was about to do a little dirty bare-knuckle fighting. He was looking forward to this, not just because these assholes had started this shit, but because they had threatened his girl.
 
Fierce possessiveness claimed him at the very thought of these motherfuckers wanting to touch what was his, and she was his. There was no question about it. He let them have the first hit, but that was all they were getting.

The leader, or at least who Brock assumed was the leader since he was the only douche-bag that had the balls to say anything to him since this started, charged him. He was drunk and high, and so he moved slowly, his punches were sloppy, and he was off the mark. Brock slammed his fist into his nose, grew even more excited when he heard the sound of his nose crunching from the hit, and immediately went after the next guy. He tossed him against the side of one of the buildings like a rag doll, and immediately turned on the third asshole. At least this guy seemed the smartest of the three, because he took a look at the other two
pricks,
and then back at Brock before turning and running like the little asshole he was. The guy he had thrown against the building must have hit his head on the brick because he was out cold.

“You motherfucker.
You broke my nose.” The only one standing and the one that seemed to try to place some kind of claim on his girl stood a few feet from him. Blood poured from his nose, moved over his lips and chin, and covered his white shirt like a grotesque painting. “I’m going to kick your ass, and then fuck your girl. I might make you watch, but haven’t decided yet.”

He charged forward, but Brock was ready. A fighter never lost control, never took his eyes off his opponent, and always let the other guy make the first move. He came swinging like a damn freight train, but his anger was a cloud of amateur movements that Brock had seen a hundred times before. He swung out, and Brock caught his fist midair and used his opponent’s momentum against him. Slamming his fist into first his right side and then his left, he kept his composure when the guy doubled over and grunted in pain. Brock stood there and waited for him to come back for more or turn the other way and run. He could have easily taken him down with one skillful shot to his temple, and should have for the fucked up shit he said about Izzy, but he also realized she was in his truck watching this all play out. He could feel her stare, and although he wouldn’t go easy on these dicks, he also wouldn’t do what he really wanted to do to them, and that was break their neck and rip off their balls.

“You’re not going to win. You can either get your fucking ass out of here or you can come back for more and get your dick ripped off.” The man lifted his glossed over eyes and snarled. “I can make you really hurt.” He said it slowly and calmly, just to make sure this bitch knew exactly what he was saying. It wasn’t a threat, but a promise. Brock knew moves that could paralyze the prick, and could make sure he couldn’t walk comfortably for a very long time. The guy that had been slouched against the wall came to, but he was smart enough not to come back for more. He limped away, muttering something about drinking too much and getting into trouble.

After a long moment the asshole bared his teeth. “You can have the bitch.” Although the anger still waged inside of him that this dickhead thought to insult Izzy, he had to remain calm. Letting go was the worst possible outcome, and if he was anything it was calm and controlled. That was the first lesson of an Absinthe cage fighter. The man hobbled off, and only when he was out of Brock’s sight did he make his way to the truck. He saw Izzy through the front windshield, and if her wide, frightened eyes didn’t let him know she had seen everything, the scent of her apprehension when he opened the driver’s side door and climbed in would have cemented the fact. The body let off scents when happy, distressed, scared and excited. It was a subtle change in the pheromones that were emitted in sweat, and if someone knew how to catch those subtle changes, they could gauge what a person was feeling without ever having to ask them. It was basic biology and chemical reactions, and something fighters in his field were trained in. It wasn’t just about beating the shit out of people, but also about watching body language and facial expressions. His training went deeper than just throwing punches.

“Are you okay?” Her voice shook a bit when she asked. Brock started the engine and turned to look at her after a suspended moment.

“I’m good, baby.” Reaching over and brushing a lock of her hair away he asked, “Are you okay? Did I scare the shit out of you?” She looked away, and he let his hand drop. She started playing with a loose string on her shirt. It was a nervous reaction, but completely understandable.

“No, you don’t scare me. The situation did, though.” That was understandable, too.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, but there was no other way around it. They wouldn’t have backed down, and there was no way in hell I was either.” He lifted his hand again and let his finger trail down her cheek. He loved that she sighed and closed her eyes at his touch. “I wasn’t going to let them have you.
It’s
scum like them that think they can take something from a woman without her permission.” When she looked up at him there was no judgment, and only understanding in her eyes.

“I know, and I am thankful you were there. I hate to think about what would have happened if you weren’t.”

Rage burned hotly inside of him when she spoke the words. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t help the image of exactly what would have happened if she was alone. He faced forward again, his rage over the situation slamming into him. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white and gritted his teeth. Brock still needed to stay under control.

“Let’s go home, baby.” Now more than ever he needed to be with her, to touch her, kiss her, and have her warm wetness gripping him so he knew she was right there with him and safe. The possessiveness that he felt toward him was instantaneous, and should have freaked him the fuck out, but all he felt was a calm wave that moved through him. They headed home in silence. Tonight he would show Izzy that he wasn’t just a fighter, but
her
fighter.

****

As soon as they stepped through the door and it was closed behind them Brock took her in his arms and kissed her roughly. It wasn’t the sweet, gentle kind of kiss that had her slowly melting, but one that had her lighting up like a damn firework. What they were about to do wasn’t going to be sweet and thorough. He was going to fuck her, to prove that he wanted her, and that was fine with her. In fact, that was how she wanted it.

“Take a shower with me, baby,” he said between kisses.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, and every erogenous zone in her body was alive and pulsing with the need to feel this very masculine man over her. Even now as he trailed kisses over her jaw, and down her throat, Izzy could practically feel him thrusting in and out of her. There was no way she was going to say no to him, not when the very thought of their slick, wet bodies pressing together had her so damn horny she couldn’t think straight. Murmuring her approval of his idea, she broke the kiss and followed him down the hall and into the bathroom.

Once the water was on and steam started to billow around them, neither moved. The side of his head where the guy had sucker-punched
him
was starting to turn an ugly shade of purple, and she took a step forward and reached out. He captured her hand before she made contact with him, and brought her fingers to his mouth, kissing each individual one.

“I’m good, baby. It doesn’t hurt, so wipe that worry from your face.” He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. He lowered his face until he pressed his mouth to hers. After several long, drugging moments of them making out like they were hot and bothered teenagers, Brock started taking her clothes off in unhurried movements. Izzy wanted the material gone, wanted him to rip it from her body and toss it away, but the slowness of his actions was also heightening her arousal. He removed her bra and panties in the same slow, seductive manner, and when she stood before him naked with all of her imperfections on display, she didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment. He took a step back and let his eyes travel up and down her nude form, but there was no urgency for Izzy to cover herself. She knew it was the heated look in his eyes, the way he touched her like he was starving for her, and the overall confidence he gave to her without words, that had her feeling pretty and proud of the way she looked.

“You are so beautiful, Izzy.” Heat traveled up her neck at his compliment. Her whole life she had felt so unattractive. The only two guys she had slept with hadn’t made any comments about her weight, but then again facial expressions when the clothes finally came off spoke more than any words they could have said. But here was this physically perfect man, powerful and gorgeous, and he looked at her as if there was no one else for him. When he moved closer to her, took her hand in his and led her into the shower, she knew that he would ruin her for all others.

 
The water was hot, just the way she liked it, but the tile was cold beneath her back when he pressed her against it. His erection was hard and big and dug into her belly. Her pussy clenched as thought it had a mind of its own. She wanted him thrusting all of that length and girth inside of her, stretching her to the point of pain, and making her feel so very full. Instead he teased her with his mouth and hands.

Taking hold of one of her breasts, he massaged the mounds, and then pulled the nipple taut with his forefinger and thumb.

“I was never a man that thought more than a handful was a waste.” She let her head fall back against the tile and closed her eyes as a pulsing that matched the rhythmic pull of his fingers on her nipples started between her thighs.

Over and over he tormented her. She begged him for more, whispered for release, but he would not give in, and that fact had her feeling frustrated but wanting more. Slowly taking one of his hands and trailing it over her ribs, down her belly, and stopping right before he reached her pussy, had Izzy holding her breath. The wait to see if he would touch her between her legs seemed to go on forever, and when she opened her eyes and looked into his face, she realized he enjoyed tormenting her.

“It is so fucking hot that you want it this badly.” He started kissing her neck, nipping at her wet, sensitive flesh until the blood rushed to the surface at his little points of erotic abuse.

“Please don’t stop, Brock. God, please don’t stop.”

He groaned against her neck. “I have no intention of stopping anything, Izzy.” In the next move he was down on his haunches, and had one of her legs over his shoulder. With what she knew was wide eyes, Izzy couldn’t help but watch in awe as he looked up at her at the same time he slowly moved toward her pussy. But of course he stopped right before he made contact with her swollen flesh. “I’m afraid I will go too far.”

Didn’t he know he could never go too far? She wanted to tell him she liked it rough, that she wanted his cock deep inside of her, and wanted to feel him pulling on her hair until tears of pain and pleasure crested within her.

“You can never go too far, Brock.” Her voice was soft, and the pelting water drowned it out, but the way his mouth parted slightly and his eyelids lowered to half-mast, told her he heard her nonetheless. One of his hands was on her ass, holding her in place, while his other hand moved toward her inner thigh. He continued to move his fingers over her flesh until the very pads brushed along her tingling pussy lips. Taking his thumb and pulling one of her labia apart, Izzy watched the erotic display of dominance and control take over him. Something shifted in his expression as he lowered his gaze to the part of her he just exposed.

“Fuck, Izzy, I am going to eat your fucking pussy out so thoroughly you won’t be able to stop from coming all over my face.” Lifting his eyes to hers again, he stuck his tongue out slowly, leaned forward another inch, and dragged the muscle along her slit. Over and over he did this, licking up and down her cleft, teasing her clit on the upstroke, and plunging inside of her on the down stroke. “You taste so fucking good, Izzy. I could eat you out all damn night.”

He was a machine, one that knew exactly where to touch her, exactly how much pressure to apply, and the right kind of dirty words to say that would have her orgasm rushing to the surface. The vibrations from his voice were right on her clit, and just when she thought she would climax he shoved two thick fingers into her.

“Come all over my fucking face, baby.” She exploded at his words, at the feel of his mouth, and of the tightening of his hand on her ass. There was no shame when she started grinding her pussy on his face, drawing out her pleasure until it crested again inside of her, smaller this time, but just as intense. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out of her, and sucked on her clit like he couldn’t get enough.