“Don't be ridiculous. I parked right around the corner,” she said, tearing her eyes from Mikhail's glistening, sweaty chest. “Besides, it's closing time.” She pointed at the clock on the wall. “You have to lock up.”
“I walk her out,” Mikhail said, zipping up his own bag and tossing it on his shoulder.
“Oh, really?” Hector said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don't think that's a good idea.” Rolling her eyes and not interested in waiting for a chaperone, Gennifer headed for the door and pushed it open.
“Hasta luego,” she called back, the light breeze of the summer night welcome on her face. Patrons spilled out of the bar across the street. She hummed along to the song playing, some indie jam from her college days. The streets were not empty and she didn't feel scared. SoHo wasn't always a bustling neighborhood at night, but it wasn't dead either. Hector was so overprotective sometimes it bordered on pathological. She was halfway around the block when she felt someone behind her. She stopped and turned, ready to give Hector a piece of her mind. Instead, Mikhail smiled back at her, his face illuminated by the street light.
“I am not following you. I park on Greene,” he explained, pointing down the street. She narrowed her eyes, turning and continuing on her way. She had a twenty minute drive up the West-Side highway to get home to Riverdale. She had to be in bed before ten, or she would be dead in the morning, she reminded herself. He picked up his pace until he was beside her. She accepted his presence, a companionable silence between them. After a moment, her curiosity got the better of her.
“Where do you live?” she asked suddenly, trying to make conversation. Not many people in the city had cars unless they lived in the outer boroughs. She figured him as a southern Brooklyn kind of guy and fresh off the boat, to boot.
“Flatiron,” he said, surprising her. “You want to come home with me?
“No!” Gennifer snapped, but her imagination was already running wild. She wondered how long it would take to get to his apartment and into his bed? They could be naked and fucking in under an hour, she wagered. After a long, hot shower of course.
Down, girl.
She sighed to herself, knowing full and well that she had a strict policy against dating a member of House of Pain. In the past, breaking her rule had always bitten her in the ass. In fact, casual sex rarely worked out for her in general, but that didn't stop her from trying.
The Russian walked another block beside her before she tried again with the small talk. “If you live so close, why do you drive?” she asked, not able to help herself.
“I do not like trains,” he said, simply. “And you? Where do you live?”
“The Bronx,” she said, after a moment's hesitation.
“The Bronx? I never met anyone from the Bronx.”
“You must not get out much,” she said, used to hearing the sentiment from new transplants to the city.
“That is right. I do not get out much,” he said with a smile.
“Well, there's a first time for everything.” She came to a stop at the intersection of Greene and Grand. “I'm going this way,” she said, pointing left.
“Me, too,” he said with a smile. Gennifer shook her head.
“Uh huh,” she murmured, suppressing a smile of her own. She let him follow her to her car, parked on Broome. They made small talk about the weather, the gym, and about how he liked the city until she spotted her white Mini Cooper.
“This is me,” she said, unlocking the passenger door and tossing her bag inside. She slammed the door behind her and turned to face him. He stepped closer to her and, for a moment, she thought he might kiss her. A pang of arousal shot through her and she forced herself to meet his eyes. But instead of a kiss, he held out his hand.
“Good to meet you, Gennifer,” he said. She took his hand and shook with vigor, like Big Jimmy taught her to. No man likes a limp fish in his hand, he'd said. Mikhail chuckled and returned the favor. His hand was warm and strong and held hers for a moment too long. When they parted, she shifted her weight, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She wondered if his dick was still hard. She knew her panties were still wet.
“Okay. Bye,” she said, taking a deep breath.
“You are not getting off easy.” He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and sweat seeped through his white tank-top, molding it to his chest. “I am not going to forget.”
“Forget what?” she asked, knowing exactly what he meant.
“The shower you owe me.” He smiled and leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear. “I do not forget.” She felt her mouth go dry and her pussy clench one last time, for good measure.
Damn.
“In your dreams,” she finally managed to get out.
“Hmm.” He cocked his head. “I think I will dream about you tonight. Will you dream about me?”
“Get lost,” she said, pushing him away, but this time, she wasn't able to keep a smile from crossing her lips.
“A smile? Just for me?” He took a step back, clapping his hands on his chest, above his heart. She rolled her eyes, her small smile growing wide. “I will look forward to seeing it again.” She walked around to the driver's side, shaking her head but still grinning like a dope. He watched her go, bending at the waist to watch her slide into the driver's seat. As she put the key in the ignition, he tapped on her window. She couldn't resist. She pressed down the button, cracking the window.
“What?” Gennifer said.
“Will you be here tomorrow?” he asked. “If you are here tomorrow, I will be here too.”
Gennifer felt herself softening. He wasn't handsome, exactly—he was too hard-edged for that. Something dangerous and wild simmered under his seemingly calm surface. Gennifer had been around enough dangerous men to know the signs. But he was charming, she'd give him that. And sexy as hell. Against her better judgment, she nodded.
“I'll be here.” She put the car in drive then, and pulled out into traffic. She willed herself to not look in the rearview mirror. She didn't want to know whether or not he was watching her go.
Chapter 2
Mikhail checked the clock on the wall of the gym. 7:25 p.m. The angry brown girl with the beautiful smile still had not arrived at the gym. Gennifer. Her name unfurled in his mind. She'd told him she would be here. He shrugged it off, working out his arms on the bag. The night was not yet over. When she showed up, he had every intention of holding her to her end of the bargain. His taped fists pounded the bag, his pace quickening when he thought about her hard body under his on the mat. He'd pleasured himself in his empty bed the night before, thinking of her. But he was still unsatisfied. He knew he wouldn't be satisfied until he'd had her. He had an obsessive personality—he wanted what he wanted when he wanted and he would pursue it to the fullest.
“Hey, Russian,” a voice sounded to his left. He ignored it, continuing his workout. He felt a tap on his shoulder. “You want to spar?” Mikhail dropped his hands, the bag still vibrating with the force of his exertion. He turned to find a tall brown man with a pinched face and nervous energy radiating like electricity off of his skin. He shrugged. Of course he wanted to spar. He followed the man into the ring and gripped the ropes. Gennifer chose that moment to enter the gym, her bag flung over her shoulder and her black hair pulled back in a wild curly ponytail. Smiling, Mikhail pulled himself into the ring. His heart beat faster in his chest when she caught his eyes and smiled back. Interesting, he thought. It had been a long time since he'd gotten excited over a lingering look from a woman.
“Yo, Genny from the block,” Mikhail's sparring partner said in a rough voice, spitting over the side of the ring. “Mamí, you need me to spot you later?” Gennifer lifted her hand, middle finger outstretched. She didn't glance back, disappearing into the locker room that was designated for the few women who came to the gym. “Stuck up bitch,” he mumbled under his breath, and Mikhail cocked his head. He was going to enjoy beating the young zhopa even more now, he decided. Their bout began with a touch of the gloves and M
ikhail got an undercut in immediately. He pushed back, then returned with a fast straight to his opponent's face.
The bout got interesting then. His young partner was no match for Mikhail's footwork, but he was quick. He got in a few jab and grabs, clinching Mikhail and not allowing him to move for a moment. Dipping, Mikhail broke the hold and danced around the edge of the ring, laughing to himself. The adrenaline fired up his spine.
Now things were going to get fun.
***
Gennifer emerged from the locker room to the jeers and cheers of the men in the gym. Mikhail and Donny circled each other in the ring, the tension thick. Donny's nose dripped blood. They weren't sparring; they were full-on brawling. Gennifer stayed near the edge of the crowd watching the Russian's graceful movements. He was a force to be reckoned with, that was for sure. He was quick on his feet and his movements were sharp and forceful. She had to admit, she didn't mind seeing Donny take a beat down. He was the best at the gym, and he knew it. Gennifer hated the cocky bastard.
She let her eyes linger on the line of Mikhail's shoulders, well-sculpted and gleaming with sweat. When he jabbed, she could see the muscles working, clenching and straining under his skin. His control was beautiful. She realized she was holding her breath and exhaled. The Russian had been on her mind all day at work as she scraped teeth and drilled fillings. His laughing gray eyes would flash in her brain at random moments. Now that she saw him in his element, she knew. He was absolutely and incontrovertibly dangerous.
“Donny deserves to get his ass kicked every now and then. It deflates his head a little bit,” Hector said, in her ear.
“Not enough,” Gennifer replied. “Is Big J upstairs?”
“Yup.” Hector's eyes drifted back to the ring. “Move your feet, Donny!” he called out, over the fray. Then his attention was back on her. “He's not going to change his mind,” Hector said, knowing exactly what Gennifer wanted to talk to Big Jimmy about.
“We'll see,” she said.
“You're so damn stubborn.” Hector shook his head and smiled. In the ring, Mikhail got in a hell of a fast straight and Donny went down on one knee. Time seemed to slow as Mikhail bent and swung. Gennifer felt herself leaning forward, her heart speeding up in her chest. Mikhail's glove met Donny's jaw with a boom that echoed through the big room. The spectators went crazy as the big Russian sent him to the mat with a swift uppercut. Donny landed flat on his back and stayed there. Gennifer let go of the breath she'd been holding in a whoosh. Mikhail scratched his nose with his glove, his face unemotional, revealing nothing, despite the win. Then he turned and his eyes met hers. She felt a thrill of arousal run through her. His eyes were anything but unemotional. They were raging, wild, and trained right on her with a singular intensity. So dangerous, Gennifer thought. The man was too damn sexy for his own good.
“I don't like that guy,” Hector said.
“Who is he? Where'd he come from?” Gennifer said, watching Mikhail as he hopped down out of the ring.
“I thought you two knew each other.” Hector's voice was light, but prodding. Was he jealous? Gennifer rolled her eyes. Hector'd had twenty years to make a move on her, and he hadn't bothered. Therefore, he had no claim on her.
“Nope,” she said, her gaze still on Mikhail. The Russian sauntered to his bag and pulled out a white towel. He wiped the sweat from his face and she finally forced herself to look away before she started drooling. “I'd never seen him before last night.”
“He showed up a couple weeks ago.” Hector shrugged. “But you'd know that if you hadn't run off and pouted for three weeks.” Gennifer sighed, knowing he was right. That's why she'd finally swallowed her pride and returned. But that didn't mean she was happy about it. And she wasn't going to take Big J's decision lying down, either.
“Well, I'm back now,” she said, rolling her shoulders and raising her arms above her head in a stretch. “And if the Russian wants to spar, I'll get back in the ring with him in a second.” Mikhail was looking at her now, she realized, a smile forming on his lips.
“I see you sporting a fat lip today,” Hector said. “Bet that went over well at work.”
“They know I like to get beat up for fun,” she said, flexing her wrists and cracking her rusty joints.
“Uh huh.” Hector crossed his arms, his eyes on Mikhail. “If I catch him sparring with you again, he's outta here.”
“We'll see,” she taunted, throwing a light jab to his left flank.
“I mean it, Gen,” he said, not flinching, trying to look stern. But his dimples threatened to appear, along with a smile. She could play him all day, every day. He never could tell her no. He still felt guilty about that nose-breaking uppercut he'd given her, years ago. Sucker. She gave him a wink then strolled toward the metal stairs leading to Big J's office.
Big Jimmy Domino glanced up from his paperwork when she knocked on the door. When he saw her, his dark face broke into the wide, welcoming smile that she knew so well. “Look what the cat dragged in,” he boomed, his voice as big as his body. “You done being mad at me?”
“No.” Gennifer shook her head, not quite letting him off the hook. It was hard to stay angry at the gregarious man she considered to be her father, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to take him to task for his bad call. “I was hoping I could appeal to your infinite sense of reason,” she said with a wry smile.
He laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the small room. “You a trip, Genny, you know that?”
“I want to fight,” she said. “And I've earned my shot as much as any of those assholes out there on the floor.”
“Well today's your lucky day.” He leaned back in his ancient office chair. The chair squealed in protest, but as always, held under his considerable weight. “I got good news for you.” Gennifer held her breath, excited. He cocked an eyebrow as he seemed to notice something amiss. “What happened to your lip?”
Her hand shot up involuntarily to her mouth. It didn't matter how old she got, she still felt like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar when Big J would raise that eyebrow. “Nothing,” she said. “It doesn't even hurt.”
“Let me guess. You convinced poor Hector to demonstrate punches again? You got balls, I'll give you that.” He shook his head. Gennifer shrugged.
“It's your fault, you know,” she said. “I never would have picked up a pair of gloves if it hadn't been for you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Big J grumbled, used to hearing it. “I should've banned girls when I had the chance.” She rolled her eyes at his words and he chuckled. They'd had this conversation many times before.
“It's too late now, Daddy-o,” she said. “So what's this good news?”
“I called Staten Island Tommy.” Big J looked pleased with himself. “He's got a girl that will come fight at Bout It. So you're back in.” Gennifer considered this and decided it wasn't good enough.
“And if I beat her, I get a match with the next fighter in my weight class?” she pressed. Big J stared at her as if he wanted to reach across the desk and strangle her.
“No!” he roared. Gennifer waited it out, knowing that his bark was worse than his bite. He slammed his palm on the desk. “You're pushing it, girl!”
“You're holding me back,” she prodded. “I just want to be treated the same as everybody else. Bout It is just supposed to be fun anyway. It's not big time.”
“But you ain't the same as everybody else.” Big J crossed his arms over his massive chest stubbornly.
“Besides, who's to say I'll beat this Staten Island chick?” she continued. “It would just be more motivational than anything else.”
“Why are you giving me all this grief?” he asked.
“It's important,” she replied.
“Why?”
“Because,” Gennifer said simply, not knowing why it was so important to her. She only knew that she wanted what she wanted, and there was no real reason why she shouldn't get it. “I'm never going to stop until I get what I want, you k
now.” Gennifer shrugged. “And if I have to start going to a new gym, I will.” She kept her eyes on Big J's, not backing down. She knew he would find any bit of weakness in her and exploit it. So she stayed strong.
“You'd never leave House of Pain,” he said, narrowing his eyes, as if he could look right through her.
“Try me.”
“You leave, Maria will stop inviting you to Sunday dinner,” he said.
“She will not.” Gennifer laughed, knowing full well Big J's wife Maria would never stop inviting her to dinner. Maria lived for Sundays, when all the kids came together under one roof and she got to feed them. A small Mexican woman from a big family, Maria loved to be surrounded by people.
Big J sighed. He stood and went to the window that overlooked the gym below. “If I say yes to you, then I'll have everyone in here thinking I'm a big pushover.”
“They already know you're a big pushover,” Gennifer said, stepping beside him. Below, the floor had cleared out a bit, the after-work rush almost over.
“What if the guys don't want to fight a girl?” he asked.
“That's on them. I just want the opportunity.”
“Little Sid is in your weight class. He'd knock your ass up and down that ring.”
“Maybe,” Gennifer said. There was no way she'd end up in the ring with Little Sid. He was too good, so she wasn't really worried about it. Her more likely opponent would be skinny Javier Domingues, and she wasn't scared of him. Not much, anyway. Big J tapped on the glass of the window, looking down at Donny, training in the ring.
“Donny is finally going pro. After Bout It, he's headed to Golden Gloves in Vegas.”
“Good riddance.” She'd cry zero tears if she never saw Donny again.
“Hey! His money is green just like everybody else's,” Big J said with a chuckle. Then he sighed. “Alright, Gen. I'm an old man, and I'm tired. You beat that girl, you can move up.”
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