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Brawl Page 17

by Kylie Hillman


  “I’m in your corner. Tonight and for as long as you’ll have me.”

  Relief of gigantic proportions floods me and the weight that’s been hanging over me since she ran out of the gym lifts. The room appears brighter, the miserable gloom that’s been clouding my vision for so long dissipating.

  “Kiss her. Kiss her,” the chant echoes around the basement again.

  I’d forgotten about the people surrounding us while we’ve been lost in our own world. The gamble I’d taken by getting Nate, Jep and Amy involved tonight was fucking huge and could’ve easily backfired. Keeping a hostile group of fight fans waiting was an even bigger risk.

  The ruby lips that have haunted every moment of my day since I first laid eyes on her are angled toward me as Gabbi peers up at me with an expression that’s screaming for me to kiss her. Leaning closer, I pause with our mouths an inch apart. Despite my declarations to the contrary, I’m in two minds about this. As I’m waiting for the guilt I’ve lived with for three years to attack, my doubts begin to creep back in.

  She’s too young and inexperienced.

  I’m too old and jaded.

  Can I really move on from Mari?

  Is it possible to love another woman as much as I loved her?

  How are we going to make this work?

  I have my gym. Gabbi has art school and Cooper.

  Fuck, am I ready to step up and help her raise her brother...the little boy who’ll remind me every single day of what I’ve lost.

  What if she falls in love with me and I lose her as well?

  “Stop overthinking,” Gabbi’s sexy voice breaks through my impending panic. “Just go with it. One day at a time. That’s the best anyone can do.”

  Putting her hands on the back of my head, she pulls me the rest of the way and kisses me. It’s an emotion-filled melding of two broken people. My black heart meeting her broken heart and promising each other that we will help the other heal. The crowd roars their appreciation, adding a dreamlike element to the moment.

  “Ahem,” the MC startles me when he appears next to me without warning. “Hooligan, we really need to get this fight started. The cops are going to be here to shut down the club soon if we take much longer.”

  Turning to Gabbi, I smile. “You ready to do this.”

  Waving a hand down the front of herself, she gestures to her skin tight jeans, flowing top and knee-high boots and giggles. “I’m not exactly dressed to corner you but I’ll do my best.”

  My desire to spend time with her tonight is stronger than my need to toy with my opponent and put on a show for the fans.

  “This isn’t going to take long,” I promise. Pointing at the MC, I continue. “Tell him to get his ass out here. We have a score to settle.”

  Grabbing Gabbi’s shoulders as well as I can with my gloves on, I turn her toward the gate, slapping her on the ass as I say, “Outside. Nate will show you where to go.”

  She does as she’s told, and I watch Nate leading her over to the spot where my corner is supposed to sit. It’s been empty during every fight I’ve had since the day my life changed. Stretching so she can whisper in his ear, I see him point at one of the seats in response. Mari’s seat.

  Gabbi looks in my direction, before taking a step to the side and sitting in the chair next to Mari’s. The care she’s shown in honoring my wife puts all of my doubts to rest. A sense of rightness fills me, driving the cold out of my heart—the heart that Gabbi has started to defrost—and filling me with a warmth I haven’t felt in forever. A tiny bubble of guilt tries to dampen my enthusiasm but Gabbi’s voice drives it away.

  One day at a time. That’s the best anyone can do.

  Bouncing on my toes, I warm up. Feinting, practicing combo’s, and just generally fucking around while I wait for my opponent. I don’t need to put much effort into this fight. Raw emotion and my taste for retribution will be more than enough.

  “And, here to redeem himself after being KO’d in the first round the last time these two met is Gregory “Kryptonite” Krakan.”

  The basement fills with boos and hissing. The crowd might have been on his side at our previous fight, however, the knowledge that he organized for his crew to attack Nate and his friends if he lost has filtered around fight circles. The hardcore fans want to see me punish him, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

  What he said about Mari is between us, adding a more personal edge to my revenge.

  Entering the cage with none of the theatrics of the last time, Kryptonite steps into the middle. We listen to the ref laying down the law.

  “Touch gloves.”

  This time he holds his arms out to touch. I reach forward, pretending I’m going to meet him half way, only to pull back at the last moment. “Not gonna happen, cunt. This is personal. We have a score to settle.”

  Kryptonite blanches; his face turning white, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. Good. It appears that he remembers what my fists felt like last time.

  “And. Fight!”

  The ref jumps out of the way as I stride toward the asshole in front of me, who backs away with fear in his face. When his back meets the chain-link fence of the cage, I pull my fist back and hit him full-force in the chin. His head snaps back, his eyes rolling like ping-pong balls in his head, and his knees give out.

  Landing heavily, Kryptonite falls as if to face plant. I grab his head and hold him upright. Punching him again, I ignore the roaring appreciation of the crowd when his eyebrow splits and blood splatters everywhere.

  “That one’s for having your goons attack my nephew.”

  Pushing him back against the fence, I hit him dead center in the solar plexus and then in his smart mouth.

  “That’s for mentioning my wife.”

  Chest heaving from exertion and my growing rage, I pull the memory of watching Gabbi being attacked by the red-headed fucker Kryptonite sent after her because she was with Nate from the recesses of my mind. I remember how she fought like a trooper, only to end up dropped to the floor and trapped underneath the crowd. Recalling the terror on her face when I’d picked her up after pulling the fire alarm to activate the sprinklers, I let Kryptonite fall to his face on the mat, and, knowing full well that it’s going to get me disqualified, I pull my leg back and kick him first in the liver and then in the back of the head.

  “And that’s so you know how my girl felt when she got caught in your melee.”

  I don’t wait for the ref to call an end to the fight or for the gate to be opened. Taking a running leap in Gabbi’s direction, I swing myself over the fence and land at her feet. Holding a hand out to her, I’m rewarded with her immediate acceptance. Nodding at Nate, who’s smirking with pride that his plan worked, as I walk past him, I hear the MC calling for me to come back to the cage. Without breaking stride, I pull my girl from behind me, swinging her into my arms and then lifting her from the ground. Cradling her against my chest, I walk through the crowd as it parts for us, accepting pats on the back and well-wishes. Anyone involved in our underground fight ring knows my history—knows about Mari and Gabe—and they seem to be embracing my decision to move on without comment or censure.

  Contentment and happiness fill me when I run my gaze over the light body I’m carrying, a smile curling my mouth when she looks up at me and winks. Her cheeky affection is the final blow to the burning need to inflict hurt that’s consumed me for so long; it flickers and dies, leaving me bursting with nothing but hope.

  ***

  “How do you know where I live?” Turning my truck off, I ignore her question. “I’m not kidding, Hooligan. I fall asleep thinking we’re heading to your house, and wake up at mine. It’s kinda creepy.”

  Closing my door behind me, I jog around the front of my vehicle to open hers. I don’t regret what I did—she needed it and I had the means. Gabbi opens her door before I make it to her, rolling her eyes at me when I huff at her impatience.

  “Seriously, tell me how?”

  I figure she t
hinks I’ve been watching her or I asked Amy, both of which are slightly sketchy and borderline stalkerish. The truth is probably worse.

  “I own the apartment complex.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Gabbi leans back against my truck.

  “So that’s why I was able to rent this without references.” Nodding, she mutters something under her breath. Then, she startles me by walking forward and throwing her arms around me. “Thank you so much! I was ready to give in and go back home when the real estate phoned to say that they had a new fully furnished listing that was perfect for me.”

  My hands have gravitated toward her ass, and I can feel her pubic bone against my cock. Now’s not the time to turn this sexual, but the sex-starved organ in my pants has other ideas. My dick lengthens and thickens in my shorts, and I know that Gabbi has felt him twitching against her when she giggles and lowers her hand to cup me.

  “I could show you how thankful I am, right now. We don’t need to wait until Saturday night.”

  Her natural allure is hard to resist at the best of times; coming straight after the adrenaline of a fight and hot on the heels of laying my heart bare it’s fucking impossible.

  Using her ass for leverage, I lift her onto my hips and carry her up the stairs to her apartment, lips to lips, her fingers pulling my hair as we devour each other. After separating long enough to open her door, I kick it shut after us and march straight into her bedroom.

  I toss her on her unmade bed, leaving her on her back staring up at me while I rip my T-shirt over my head. Crawling onto the bed and straddling her hips, I pin Gabbi’s hands above her head when she tries to remove her own top.

  “Stay still,” I growl. “I’m not breaking my promise, but I need a taste to get me through the week.”

  Nuzzling her neck, I run my hands up her sides, bringing her top with them. Pulling it over her head, I reach behind her back and unclasp her bra. Her full, heavy tits fall free. I sit back and drink in the sight of them.

  They’re better than I imagined—and believe me I’ve tried to picture them more times than I’d like to admit. Perfectly shaped tear-drops with pink nipples that are standing tall and tightly furled. Fucking wet dream material.

  My mind tries to remind me that the nipples are a darker shade of pink than I’m used to and her breasts are much bigger than the handful sized pair I worshipped in my previous life. I wait for the usual guilt to set in and ruin the moment. Gabbi senses my hesitation, reaching up to stroke my cheek.

  “It’s okay,” her voice is breathy with desire, regret tainting her words. “We can wait. I understand how hard this must be for you.”

  It’s wrong, so very fucking wrong, considering the position I’m sitting in, but I feel as if Mari is inside my head, prodding me to make love to the girl beneath me. Her unmistakable lilt rings in my ears, coaxing me to let her go and take what I need to make myself happy without her. Blowing out a deep breath that empties my lungs, I drag in some clean air in an effort to settle myself. Gabbi’s scent comes with it, vanilla just like Mari used to wear. It seizes control of my lust, whipping it into a frenzy. She’s nothing like Mari, yet so familiar at the same time, that I feel like I’m coming home.

  I’m a sick man, needing my dead wife’s permission to touch the beauty lying beneath me. When thoughts of her age push into my head, I make a decision. Let go of the past and embrace the future. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m not betraying Mari and I’m not taking advantage of Gabbi.

  “Don’t rush an old man.” I try to lighten the mood. “I’m allowed to take my time and enjoy the view.”

  A swath of red grows over Gabbi’s chest, travelling up her neck to finally settle on her cheeks. She pushes against my hands. I let her go, only to catch her wrists when she tries to cover herself. My girl is embarrassed. That’s not something I expected after hearing rumors of her past activities from her mother. I should be the one who’s embarrassed, having been with a sum total of one woman in my life.

  “Don’t hide yourself. You’re fucking perfect.”

  Dipping my head, my mind made up that I’m not running this time. I lavish my tongue around her right nipple, massaging her left breast with my right hand. She’s so responsive, arching her back and chasing me for more when I move away from her.

  Moving down her body, I part her thighs with my hands so I can fit between them. Making quick work of removing her boots and unbuttoning her pants, I pull the skin-tight material down her legs, bringing her G-string with them. My breath catches in my throat when I feast on the vision in front of me.

  Tight, toned, and fucking terrific. Describing her body sounds like an ad for a weight loss product. However, I have no other words that fit. She’s athletic and strong with defined muscles and textbook abs, yet still full of feminine curves. Her peaks and valleys tell the story of a woman, not a girl; her tattoos highlighting every limb in a way that showcases her ample assets. I feel like someone delved inside my head, pulling free my idea of the perfect female body, and then designed Gabbi to match.

  I can’t stop myself. I need to know if she’s as ready for me as I am for her. With one finger, I rub her clit before sliding my finger between her lower lips. She’s wet, coating my finger with her juices; a moan leaving her throat when I dip my finger a little further. Gabbi lifts her hips to offer me entrance all the way inside her.

  I can’t. Not tonight. I made a promise to myself that I would honor my own morals and not take her all the way until she’s officially an adult.

  Dragging a fingertip up her belly, between the two mounds of her breasts, and then to her full lips, I run her wetness over the bottom lip first, circling my way to her top lip, and then thrusting it into her mouth.

  “You’re so ready for me.”

  I slide my finger in and out of her mouth so she can taste the truth of my words in a crude mockery of what I’d love to be doing with my cock to her dripping pussy. She sucks it clean, rolling her tongue around the digit and then scraping her teeth down it when I pull it free. It makes me shiver; knowing full well that when I let her take my cock in her mouth it’ll be a moment I never forget.

  Trailing the wet finger down her body, I push her legs all the way apart when I reach her pussy and lay between them. Using my shoulders to wedge them open when Gabbi tries to press them closed, I distract her from her objections by firmly running my tongue from her entrance to her clit and back again.

  “Oh, Hooligan. Don’t. I haven’t...I’m not sure how to...”

  Refusing to heed her protests, I continue on my merry way licking her until her inner thighs are shaking and she’s pulling my hair with frantic need. My dick is straining against my shorts, screaming to be pulled free and pushed inside Gabbi. I want to know how she feels from the inside, clamping down on my cock, pulsating around me as I drive her over the edge.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Gabbi screams, her fingers in my hair no longer borderline painful but downright painful as she pulls with renewed intensity. “I think I’m coming.”

  I keep going; maintaining the pace of my tongue and adding a finger to stimulate her from the inside. It’s been so long since I’ve done this that her vocal enjoyment is making my ego strut around with its chest out, asking “who da man”.

  With a final shriek and a series of painful yanks on my hair, Gabbi falls over the edge. The walls of her pussy clamp down on my finger, her sweet juices flooding my mouth. I lap up every drop, showering her shiny nub with attention until she squirms away from me.

  “Stop.” Gabbi’s panting as she pushes herself upright, crossing her legs and pulling her knees to her chest so she can hug them to herself. “I’m too sensitive for anymore.”

  The brittle edge to her tone alerts me to her change in mood. Grabbing her, I shuffle us around until my back is against the wall at the head of her bed and she’s sideways across my lap with her warm, naked body pressed against my chest. I run my fingers through her long hair, ignoring my cock when he makes his displeas
ure at not getting his turn known. Gabbi hasn’t said another word since she told me to stop and it’s scaring the shit out of me.

  “What’s wrong?” She mutters something unintelligible in response, moving to get off my lap. I hold her in place and she sighs. “Did I do something to upset you?”

  The second the question’s left my mouth; I’m flooded with worry. What if she wasn’t ready for me to take her like that? What if her screams weren’t from pleasure, but from pain? I’m so fucking rusty at this, and I only know how Mari liked it anyway.

  What if I’ve fucked this up before it’s begun?

  “I thought I’d come before,” Gabbi confesses in a quiet voice. “But I hadn’t.”

  My ego rises from his position slumped in the dark recesses of my mind and executes a happy dance. “How do you figure that?”

  “Nobody’s ever gone down—” She pauses and waves a hand toward her pussy. “You know, there. Not with their tongue.”

  Thinking of her with other men isn’t pleasant. In fact, it makes my eyes narrow and the vein in my neck throb. I want to track down every one of them and kill them with my bare hands. Visions of ripping heads off and stomping on them distract me from her next words.

  “I feel like shit now. I tricked myself into thinking that I was getting what I wanted from them but I wasn’t. I was giving and getting nothing in return.”

  My eyebrows pull together as I try to understand what she’s saying. It dawns on me that she’s having a crisis of confidence.

  “Gabbi, for purely selfish reasons, I’m happy as a pig in shit that you’ve never come for anyone else. Doesn’t mean that you gave yourself away for nothing, though. If you enjoyed it at the time, then that’s all you need to concentrate on.”

  Ducking her head into my neck, I give her a minute to process what I’m saying. This isn’t a conversation I want to be having right now—who wants the woman who’s pussy you’ve just eaten thinking about her previous partners—although it gives me an insight into Gabbi that’s fascinating. Her sex-kitten persona is an act; a woman who’s truly as open about sex as she pretends to be wouldn’t even give this a second thought. It’s a sobering thought, knowing that I might have a higher level of innocence to deal with than I’d initially assumed.

 

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