by L. Grubb
As the lift ascends to the highest part of the building, I wipe my mind of thoughts that don’t pertain the fight that’s happening tonight. I need to start getting into the mind-set, then I need to go through my pre-fight routine of a protein shake and a chicken salad dinner. After a shower, of course.
Staring at Beast’s back as he leaves the restaurant, everything else in the room become mute; no sounds of clinking cutlery, no sounds of voices of conversation.
“Earth to Carlotta.” Gemma’s voice breaks through my mind after Beast’s presences has completely left the building.
“What?” I blink my eyes a few times and feel myself come down to earth. I feel the wetness between my legs and squeeze my thighs together to try and relieve some of the ache that’s taken residence in my vagina. I have no idea why I’m feeling this. Sure, Beast is freakin’ off the charts hot, but I was only thinking about his blatant ignorance of me. What the hell have I done to him? Except at the bar last night, I’ve never had contact with him before. Of course, I’ve watched him during his fights, but I’d never spoken to him before yesterday. I had no desire to. I mean, the guy is built like the hulk and his aura screams anti-social.
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying? Or are you still hung up on the dude that got you so pissed off last night?” Gemma is tapping her long, red painted finger nail on the table as she waits for my reply. The frown on her face tells me she’s confused, but I really don’t want to enlighten her on my deep inner feelings about a gruff man that seems to carry the world on his shoulders.
“No, I haven’t heard a word you said. I zoned out,” I say, smiling at her to soften the blow. Gem hates to be ignored, and I do it often without meaning to.
“Figures,” she mumbles, taking a swig of her white wine.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” My hackles are up and a light simmering of anger just below the surface threatens to break free. It’s one thing being a straight up talker but to try and mumble something so the other person can’t hear is another and it irritates the shit out of me.
“Beast?” One eyebrow rose as she stares at me, a small smirk playing on the corner of her lips give her a sly look like she’s up to something. “You hardly kept your eyes off him since we’ve been in here.”
“He’s intriguing, confusing and a whole lot of weird. He’s a challenge that I want to take on. Happy?” I blow out of puff of air and try to swallow against the dryness in my mouth.
“Why? He’s the moodiest bastard I’ve ever seen. He’s not a challenge, sweety. He’s more of a mission impossible. But hey, if that’s what you’re into, I wish you luck, my friend.” Her sarcastic attitude has me thinking twice about my previous statement. Do I really want to challenge someone who I have no business interacting with? You can tell he isn’t interested, the contempt in his eyes every time he casts his eyes on me was a big indication for me to step back and forget him. But how can you forget about a man who has muscles over muscles, eyes so blue that they glimmer in the light and a mop of blonde hair that gives him the permanent look of ‘just fucked’?
“So what that he’s moody? It gives him that badass sexiness that I’m sure all women drool over. He must have shit that goes on behind closed doors that no-one knows about. No, I’m not going to pursue him, because I don’t want to get burned or humiliated. So take a chill pill, woman.” I laugh at the end of my sentence to take the seriousness out of the conversation. Starting to get a little uncomfortable with her shoving the spotlight on me, I say, “So, the dude at the pub last night? Who was he?”
“Oh him? His name was Nate or something similar. Didn’t really get much passed the introduction before he practically sucked my face off. And even when he wasn’t trying to annihilate my face…he was so self-obsessed that it made me want to vomit. So there’s nout there and it’s the reason why I didn’t take him home to my bed like you expected me to do.” Taking another swig of her wine, she takes a moment to compose herself before saying, “Look, I’m sorry. I had a shit night’s sleep and then you ignoring me to check out some bloke’s assets…and then there’s the thing with Roofie…Sorry.”
I cover her hand with mine and gave her a sympathetic smile before we were interrupted by the waiter asking for our order. Once he’s left, I face Gemma and tell her, “We all have shit days, but you know you can always talk to me. Don’t keep shit bottled up because that doesn’t work for anyone. You know that better than most.”
Gemma smiles at me weakly before glancing out the window at the people passing by. I know she has thing for Roofie and the crap he spewed at her the one and only night they were together really hit her. Whether it was drunken bollocks that he threw at her, he should have apologised sooner, knowing she was red hot mad at him would have been a massive indicator that she was pissed with him.
I let her sit there in her own thoughts for a moment as I checked my phone for messages. One thing I know about Gemma is that you can’t push her into talking about her feelings. I vow to give her time and once she’s ready, she’ll talk to me again.
After replying to a few emails to the PR team and coach, scheduling in a few more fights and organising training sessions in the week, I place my phone back in my bag and take a furtive glance at Gemma who is still gazing out the window.
Food arrives and we tuck in, the silence is deafening but I will not be the first to talk. Call me stubborn, but I don’t want to piss her off by saying the wrong thing. And knowing me, I would say the wrong thing.
The whole meal was quiet, only the clink of metal cutlery on china plates and our jaws moving to chew the delicious food can be heard between us. I can’t say it’s unpleasant because it’s not, I just hate silence.
“Okay, so what’s our plan today?” Gemma asks after our plates have been cleared away and our glasses have been topped up. “We haven’t got any fights tonight…”
“No, we don’t so we don’t need to hit the gym. We can head to watch the guys fight though, then the pub or whatever?” I lick my lips after sipping my wine, the tangy taste lighting up my taste buds. Nothing beats a good glass of wine, except Vodka. Vodka makes everything in our lives better. Unlike the guys, we don’t get paid an extortionate amount of money to fight. We make most of our money through the tattoo shop. We tattoo all the MMA fighters as well many other clients from around London. I’m not being big headed, but Gemma’s designs are well sort after and my tattooing has been branded in Tattoo Fling Magazine as the number one tattooist of the year. I know I’m good, I mean, I’ve never had a complaint and the amount of numbers left for me from guys is unreal. I don’t date clients and I certainly don’t ring them. Remain professional at all times is our motto, except Gemma breaks it regularly and it’s a pain in the arse for the business.
“Any clients today?” Gemma asks as she peruses the dessert menu, her eyes bright with the selection. Gemma is as skinny and toned as they come but she eats like a horse but that also means that it’s a double workout at the gym for her to keep her figure.
“You make that sound like we’re in the sex industry.” A bubble of laughter escapes my mouth and Gemma snorts in the most unladylike fashion ever. “But no, no tattooing today, though we really should go in and do a stock take.”
Gemma rolls her eyes and groans. “I guess we could do that then head to Camden market? Haven’t been there for a while and a stall there has little trinkets that I’ve been collecting.”
“Fine. Fine.” I sigh, shopping is not my thing, but Gemma drags me everywhere with her anyway, she finds it amusing how much I hate it when I’m a female. I love shoes though, and I know I spend way too much on shoes instead of important things.
I signal for the waiter to bring the bills and Gemma glares at me with her lips tight in a thin line. I frown and ask, “What’s with that look?”
“I haven’t had dessert.” My lips twitch in amusement as her eyes narrow and she folds her arms across her chest.
“You can have something in Camden. I’
ll even buy it for you.”
After paying the bill and waving goodbye to Gina, we leave and she beams a smile back, waving her hand wildly. I love that woman, she’s as sweet as they come though you can tell by the way her shoulders are always tensed that she’s had a hard time of it. I saw the way her and Beast were talking too. Related? Maybe.
Clambering into Gemma’s cherry coloured Ford Focus, we head in the direction of the tattoo shop, ready to get this out the way before we can have a little fun for the day.
“Oh, look at these shoes!” I exclaim and I admire a pair of pink stilettos that have diamonds wrapped around the heel. Fake diamonds of course, this is Camden Market or course. “They’re gorgeous!”
Gemma peeks over my shoulder and grimaces. “They’re so ugly. Stilettos in general are ugly. Car, seriously, you don’t need cheap knock offs like that. The pointy toe thing? Makes my toes hurt just thinking about them.”
I have to agree, they’re not the most comfortable of shoes to wear so I place them back on top of its box and carry on in my search for shoes. A pair of brown suede cowboy boots peak my interest and I walk around the side of the stall and lift them into my hands. The brown tassels and silver buckles along the ankle has me interested and I turn them in my hands. They’re cute and would go well with my many pairs of skinny jeans I wear.
Paying for the boots, I look around for Gemma. This is the thing with her, we’ll be shopping and she’ll be so engrossed that she’d wonder off and expect me to search for her. This time though she’s at the stall across from the one I’m at, searching for her next trinket.
An hour later we’re back in the car on the way home. Once again, we’ve spent more money than we can really afford and our feet are so tired they’re ready to fall off. If that isn’t bad enough, we’re going out to the pub and my stomach is twisting at knowing Beast will be there. Though last night was the one and only night I’ve really noticed him there, you can tell he was comfortable in the place so it wasn’t really his first time.
“What are you thinking about?” Gem asks as she turns down our street. “Actually, don’t tell me because I think I can guess. Beast?”
I groan and put my head in my hands feeling the first niggling of a headache forming. “Maybe,” is all I say in return. I don’t want to get onto the subject of him again. Even knowing Gemma disapproves, I can’t help it. He’s hot, tattooed and muscles in all the right places. Though his ego and arrogance are a turn off, I can’t help but wonder how a big man like him is in the bedroom. And that scares me because he’s a complete arsehole. I’m not willing to risk my heart for a twat that only cares about himself and his next hole to fill.
Parking in the carpark adjoining our apartment building, I heave myself from the car and grab my bags while digging in my handbag for the door keys. Distracting myself isn’t making the slightest bit of difference. I wish it would though because I want to rid my thoughts of Beast.
“I’ve got my keys in my hand, Car.” Gemma’s concern laced voice stops me in my tracks and I sigh. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Gem,” I reply curtly. Hurrying to the door with Gemma hot on my heels I find anything in my mind that I can think of other than imagining Beast fucking me senseless. It will never happen, ever.
Once we reach the apartment, I head to my room to put my new items away. “Gem? I’m getting in the shower,” I call out. That’s what I need, a shower. Revitalize me somewhat.
Stripping my clothes off in my room, I wrap a towel around me and continue down the hall to our bathroom. I lock the door and turn the dial to the temperature I prefer before hanging my towel on the hook just beyond the shower door.
Steam soon builds around the room, the mist coats me and making my skin sparkle. Looking in the vanity mirror, my eyes look haunted. Fighting is taking its toll on me and it’s starting to show on my face. Why would Beast ever be interested in me when I look like a hot mess?
Climbing in the shower, I moan as the hot water pelts down onto my shoulder blades. Standing there and enjoying the heat the water brings, my thoughts of Beast intensify as I stand naked. Dangerous territory, Car, do not think of him when you’re naked, my mind tells me. I can’t help it though. His face his etched into my mind and no matter how much I shake my head; the thoughts still stay.
My mind conjures up images of his naked torso, the abs constricting under my heated gaze. I feel my hands smoothing over my breasts without me consciously doing so and I know I have no control over what my body wants to do.
Beasts muscles glint under the spotlight and his biceps flex making me groan and my hand tickles down my stomach to the apex of my thighs where my core is clenching. My vagina is practically leaking with wetness and I know I have to do this.
With Beast’s image in my mind, my finger presses my clit and it flutters with pleasure and I moan in delight. My finger trails down and enters me and I have to place a hand on the white tiled wall to keep my legs from completely giving out on me. God, I can’t remember the last time I had an orgasm, the last time I allowed myself to play with my own body. But it feels so fucking good right now.
Another finger enters and my legs turn to jelly as the pleasure travels up my spine. My head is buzzing, my body shaking as pleasure takes over. I grind myself on my hands and curl my fingers to reach the spot that gives me the most pleasure. My eyes roll back in my head and pleasure intensifies, giving me a sense of euphoria. The thrusting of my fingers gets harder, racing to find the release I desperately need. I’m on the brink, I can feel the walls of my vagina clench around my fingers as the orgasm starts. I lift one of my legs up to rest on the edge of the bath tub and shove fingers in harder, faster. I’ve never felt so much pleasure, Beast is still in the forefront of my mind and I can imagine him pumping his cock in his hands as he watches what he does to me. That’s the thought that takes me over the edge and bite my arm in an attempt to not scream out for Gemma to here.
As I come down from my high, I try to catch the breath I lost when my orgasm exploded. My vagina is still contracting, feeling the effects of the intense pleasure I gave myself. I don’t even register the coldness of the wall as I lean against it, fighting for breath and silently hoping that my legs can hold me up.
Having got my breathing under control, I quickly wash up and do my hair before making a swift exit. Damn, that was hot but why did it have to be Beast in my head? I can feel the regret clawing at my throat, but it’s not like he’ll ever know. Why couldn’t I picture Lukas Rossi or Jacoby Shaddix? Hell, why not Ian Somerhalder? My life is screwed up if I can’t picture the hot men that I have plastered on my bedroom walls but instead, a man that I don’t particularly like but is so sexy it should be made illegal.
Groaning deep in my throat, I dry myself and grab my robe that’s hanging on the hook attached to the outside of the shower/bath. Tying a knot with the belt, I leave the warmth of the bathroom to go get ready for this evening when I hear muffled voices from the front room.
Curious, I head to the living room at the front of the large apartment and come face to face with Beast. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask. I feel the scorching heat on my cheeks and he smirks at me. Did he hear me? Fuck!
“You left your phone at my Ma’s restaurant. She called me to come get it.” The huskiness in his voice has my core clenching again and goosebumps dance across my skin.
“How did you know where we lived?” That’s what I’m confused about. I don’t really know this guy and yet he found out where my home is. And if that’s not bad enough, I’m stood here in a fucking robe with nothing on. I notice Gemma making a swift exit to her bedroom and I glare at her receding back. Bitch.
“Your file. All MMA fighters have one, you should know that.” His smirk is stupidly sexy and it grates on my nerves that he can make my body come alive just with a single look. Hell, his voice could make me cum alone.
“Oh. Um…thanks?” I don’t know why I pose this like a question but I’m starting to
feel more uncomfortable as time goes on. “Is there anything else you want or are you going to continue to look at my legs?”
His head shoots up and his gaze burn into my face. I feel like a thousand lightning bolts are hitting me, the fire inside has heat spread across my chest.
“You blushing is hot.” That short little statement has me flustered and I look everywhere but at him. “You don’t realise how hot you are and that’s endearing, I must say.”
“Thanks, I guess. Like I said, Mr. Ego, is there anything else you need?” My tongue needs to be shot. Why the hell did I say that to him?
His laugh is quiet, but I can see his mammoth of a chest vibrating with it. “Mr. Ego, Carlotta? Seriously?”
The way his tongue rolls over my name makes my legs wobble and I gulp down the lump in my throat. I’m not even sure why there’s a lump there or why fear is prickling my skin. “You have an ego as big as Mt. Everest and the arrogance of a president.” Shut up, Car!
One of his perfect eyebrows raise to his hairline and his eyes twinkle with amusement. “You do have a way with words. But I guess you’re right. Though I have a right to have those traits. I’m world champion.”
“And? Doesn’t give you the right to speak to people like they’re rubbish, right? Or do you enjoy overpowering women? Yup, I know about your reputation, Mr. Badass.” Seriously, it’s like I have no control over the word vomit that spews from my mouth. Embarrassed, I turn my head and stare out the living room window at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds that are scattered, some making various patterns. I can feel his eyes on my face and my cheeks heat. Inside, I’m praying that my face isn’t bright red like it feels it is.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear his footsteps as he approaches me, I don’t hear the breathing coming from over my shoulder, not until his lips are close to my ear and his breath fans across my cheek and stirring my hair. “You’re something else, Carlotta, do you know that?”
On impulse, I jump and step back until my back is to the wall. My eyes wide, I ask him, “What are you doing?” The quiver in my voice has me wanting to slap myself, I couldn’t sound any more pathetic and weak.