Fighting Dirty

by Sidney Halston

  JL refused to ruin her makeup with tears, so she slammed the screen door and waited for Andy outside. Twenty minutes late, a brand-new blue pickup truck turned into her driveway, sending dust and pebbles flying everywhere. He honked the horn and she climbed inside.

  “You look pretty, Jamie Lynn,” Andy said.

  “Thanks. Like your truck,” she replied shyly.

  He had told her they were going to the movies, and she was surprised when he took her not to the local movieplex downtown but to an old movie theater a town over. But she was so excited to be on the date she didn’t care.

  He paid for their movie tickets, bought popcorn and soda, and led her to the back of the theater. As soon as the lights dimmed, he was all over her. It started off with a kiss, which she enjoyed. It hadn’t been her first kiss; hell, she wasn’t even a virgin. But it was a good kiss. Andy definitely had experience, she had thought. The kiss quickly escalated to touching, and by the time the movie was over he was noticeably hard and flushed. He led her to his car, where he continued to kiss her.

  “Andy, wait.” She pushed him back. “Andy, stop.” But he didn’t. His hand snaked under her skirt and up her leg. She pushed against him harder and told him to stop, but this time more firmly. “I said, stop.”

  He pulled back and unfastened the button of his jeans. “I paid for the movie and dinner. What the fuck, Jamie Lynn?”

  “Dinner? You mean the popcorn?”

  “Oh, so that wasn’t enough? I thought a girl from a trailer park would settle for a movie. Fuckin’ have to buy you dinner too?” He adjusted himself and turned on the ignition.

  She sat back and fixed her dress as tears welled in her eyes. Andy drove off and a few minutes later they were in front of a local fast-food spot. “What are you doing?” she asked, surprised. She’d figured he would take her home since she wasn’t going to put out.

  “You’ll only let me fuck you if I get you some food, right?”

  “What? No, I’m not going to have sex with you. It’s got nothing to do with food.”

  Andy’s nostrils flared, and instead of parking in front of the restaurant he pulled his truck to a dark corner of the parking lot, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned to face her. “What did you think this was? You were never going to be my girlfriend, and I know you’re no virgin.”

  “Is that why we went to this theater?”

  “Of course. I don’t want anyone to see me with you. I asked you out, and now we’re going to have sex.” This time he unzipped his jeans after he unbuttoned the waistband. “I wonder if you’re as good as your mama. I’ve heard rumors about her.”

  “No!” That was the last coherent word she spoke. He roughly grabbed her thighs and pushed her down on the seat as she screamed and flailed. “Keep fighting me, darlin’, I like it rough.” Without any warning he got on top of her and pushed inside her. She screamed in pain. Within the small confines of the car, she didn’t have anyplace to go, and his body on her tiny frame held her captive. Tears dripped down her face, and when he was done, he got out of the car, righted his pants, tucked in his shirt, and got back in, as if he hadn’t just raped her. Her body trembled and nausea consumed her, but she was a fighter. She wouldn’t be weak. She opened the door and jumped out, tumbling to the ground and scraping her knees. She wiped her face with the back of her hands and smoothed her rumpled dress. Andy followed alongside her with his car, yelling through the window, “You better keep that mouth of yours shut, Jamie Lynn. Who do you think they’ll believe, white-trash JL Calhoun with a manipulative junkie mother, or me, the captain of the football team, the valedictorian of the class, the son of the owner of McGuire Oil? You hear me, girl?” She did. She heard every word as she walked, her arms wrapped around herself. He took off, his back tires sending pebbles flying into the air.

  She ran back home, all three miles. At some point she stopped on the side of the road and threw up, holding onto a tree for support. When she finally made it back home, her mother was outside with another beer and another cigarette. “You look like shit.”

  And that caused the dam to break inside JL. She needed love. She needed comfort. Instead her mother looked at her and then at her dress, which was stained with blood. JL lifted the hem a little and saw that she had a huge gash on her thigh. It could’ve been from when she’d fallen while running or from fighting Andy off. Her mother’s only words were, “Told you, long pretty hair won’t change a thing. That right there, what happened to you it’s ’cause you’re a tease. Remember who you are and where you come from.” She tipped her head toward the trailer. “Get used to it, Jamie Lynn. Without expectations you won’t get hurt.”

  —

  “And that was it,” Jamie Lynn finished. “My life was forever changed. I think that’s why I try to keep expectations low. Don’t date much, don’t get too attached. That night I chopped off my hair with a pair of kitchen shears. I never told anyone else. I don’t even know if my mother remembers that night. I don’t know what was worse, her reaction or what Andy did to me. Anyway, for weeks I would look at the gash on my leg. It morphed into a scar, a constant reminder of what had happened. I was so angry at everyone, especially myself for being so stupid. One day, a few weeks after, I walked into Jimbo’s Tattoo with my fake ID and got my first tattoo. I got it to cover my scar. The woman who tattooed me was kind and didn’t ask questions. We hit it off, and soon afterward I started working there as the receptionist. I loved it at Jimbo’s. They’d let me sketch a lot of the customers’ requests, and I learned a lot those two years. Not just about drawing but about myself. I was my own person and refused to let my mother or Andy define me. If I wanted to have short purple hair and tattoo every inch of my body, I would. I didn’t need anyone’s permission. I didn’t care what others thought. I just wanted to be me, and I was…I am.”

  Chapter 11

  “I don’t know what to say,” Enzo said sincerely.

  “Nothing to say.”

  “I want to kill Andy McGuire. If I ever see him…”

  “Ironically enough, I heard he was in a motorcycle accident about a month ago and died.”

  “Good. Got off easy.” Enzo’s jaw twitched. He was so angry with…everything. He’d lived this charmed life—maybe his family had been cold and perhaps he hadn’t been able to do the things in life he’d wanted to do, but it was a good life. Compared to Jamie Lynn’s it had been a fucking fantastic life. He felt like scum for ever having complained about anything. This woman in front of him was a fighter. A real fighter—not the kind that he wanted to be. Not to win a belt, show off some skill, collect another trophy, but a fighter in the truest sense of the word. And he was in awe of her.

  “I wanted you to know, but I don’t particularly want to talk about it¸ okay?” she said as she lay back on the bed, their faces close together, almost nose to nose.

  If Enzo hadn’t already been in love with JL when she’d made her declaration earlier that night, he was head over heels by the time his eyes began to droop at four in the morning. They’d spent the rest of the night talking, something he’d never done before. Pillow talk, she’d called it. When she noticed how uncharacteristically angry he’d become, she quickly changed the subject. He had so many follow-up questions, but she wouldn’t let him in. It was as if she’d needed to get it off her chest but didn’t want to have a conversation about it.

  The exchange morphed into nonsensical chatter about everything and nothing. She’d asked him what his favorite color was, about his first kiss, about Brazil, and he answered candidly about everything while drawing lazy circles around her belly and the valley between her breasts. He probed deeper into her art and the Walls, and she excitedly told him how much she enjoyed painting on such a large scale.

  At one point he’d turned his body and rested his head on his pillow, his arms tucked under, his head facing hers. She mirrored him as he told her all the reasons he’d always envisioned himself being a professional fighter, even though it seemed so unimportant now. He
never felt judged as he spoke about his passion—things he’d never discussed with anyone before. He’d never felt so supported as when he told her how passionate he was about the sport. She almost jumped off the bed in enthusiasm for him. And her earnestness was refreshing. Marianna had always tried to manipulate him into getting what she wanted.

  A pang of guilt hit him as he lay there with Jamie Lynn with thoughts of Marianna running through his head, but he couldn’t help it. Marianna had been in his life for so long, and even though it had never been his choice, he’d accepted his fate, believing that eventually he’d love her. But with Jamie Lynn, there was no hidden meaning to anything she said. She was excited because he was excited, and that was it. There was no doubt in his mind that if he decided to quit his job and live off his winnings from fighting on the amateur circuit, she would stand next to him cheering him on.

  Brazilian jiujitsu had begun as his secret need to rebel, but it had eventually turned into a passion. It was something he just loved doing: the camaraderie between the fighters, the feel of his fist against the bag, the total concentration it took to get out from under a really good jiujitsu fighter who was pinning him down. As he spoke about things he was sure she didn’t have any real knowledge about, she pulled his foot closer to hers, using her own foot. It was as if she wanted—no, needed—the connection. Her eyes began to close first, and he couldn’t help but caress her face as her breathing evened out and she finally fell into a peaceful sleep. He smiled as he looked at his fiery pixie. She had so much fight in her; he couldn’t imagine such a little thing surviving and thriving such a hard life. She deserved so much more. But her story put all the pieces in place. It explained why she’d been so standoffish at the beginning, why she demanded honesty, why she didn’t give a shit what people thought of her. Why she never let him be on top of her when they had sex. She was the truest person he knew. If she wanted to wear a purple wig and clown shoes, she would. If she wanted to make love by the beach, she would. She lived her life to the fullest, which made him see that he wasn’t living his life at all. He was shackled to his family, whom he would probably never be able to please anyway.

  Enzo had done everything by the rules up until a year ago, and look what that had gotten him: a divorce and a transcontinental move. He decided right then and there that if he learned any lessons from his time with Jamie Lynn, it was that he needed to start really living, his family be damned. He would do everything in his power to stop the cogs that he’d set in place to destroy the Walls and her art. Four days ago, when Jamie Lynn had asked him out, his life had been irrevocably changed. As he drifted off to sleep, the thought of her not being in his bed after tonight caused an unfathomable ache in his chest.

  —

  “Okay, seriously, I really have to go.” He stood up from the bed, but she got on her knees, grabbed his neck, and pulled him close. He was dead on his feet, having gotten barely three hours of sleep after spending most of the night in bed making love. She, on the other hand, seemed rested. He’d learned she had terrible insomnia and rarely slept a full night. Clearly she was accustomed to little sleep, whereas he was a mess.

  Completely ignoring his plea, she said in a husky morning voice that made his dick twitch, “I love the beard.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to shave since Thursday, and now I won’t have a chance before I have to get to the office. My staff’s going to fall over in surprise when they see me.” He kissed her deeply. “I already missed work on Thursday and Friday, I missed a teleconference on Saturday, and I completely disappeared on Sunday. I have to go in today, sweetheart. Mondays are always busy.”

  She pouted.

  “And won’t someone miss you somewhere if you keep missing work?” he added in between kisses to her jaw and neck.

  “Yeah, I really do have to go in.” She sighed. “I have no one to cover me today.”

  “Okay, I’m cutting you off.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek one last time, then stood to leave, but she grabbed his neck to pull his scruffy face against her cheek. “I’m glad you like the facial hair.”

  “Oh yeah.” She took his hand and placed it on the apex of her upper thigh. “Especially here. Where it rubs against my skin while you’re licking me.” And she slid it up higher. “Here too.” He groaned when she pushed his hand against her mound.

  “You like my beard there, baby?” he asked, his voice husky, and ran a finger through her wet and needy folds. She closed her eyes and arched her back in response, his fingers drenched in her juices.

  “Screw it.” He threw his phone on the bed and dropped the Armani suit he’d been holding. “You’re insatiable. I feel like your sex slave,” he said as he kissed her neck and shoulders.

  “Now you’re talking.” She groaned when he kissed her neck. “I think I’m at your command too. My knees still hurt from sucking your dick in the shower last night.”

  He flipped her over and pulled her roughly to the edge of the bed, making her yelp in surprise. “Don’t have much time,” he whispered in her ear as he slid his finger over her pussy. “But it doesn’t look like you need much priming.” He reached into his boxers and pulled out his dick and rubbed it up and down her slit. “You ready, sweetheart?”

  She answered by pushing back. Had she not told him the story about Andy, he’d have slammed into her, but now he just couldn’t. He rubbed his cock up and down and then slowly pushed it inside with his hands at the base. “Enzo, please,” she said urgently, pushing back against him again, but he continued to move agonizingly slowly in and out. “Damn it, Enzo, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right this very instant—”

  He chuckled and began to move faster, though still with careful strokes. After a moment she stopped moving and pulled away. “Are…are you being careful because of what I told you? Is that why you were so gentle yesterday?” He didn’t respond right away, which was apparently all the answer she needed. “Lorenzo!” She turned her back to him and wiggled her ass in the air. “You’d better put your dick in me right now and fuck me correctly. You said I could trust you, but if you start holding back and start treating me with kid gloves, this won’t work between us,” she said. “Do you want me to remember that night every time I look at you and see that sad face?”

  That made him snap out of it. He did not want her to remember. He wanted to erase that man—no, boy—from her mind and from every crevice of her body. He grabbed the base of his cock roughly, spread her cheeks, pushed into her pussy, and began to move in and out, hard and fast. Her hand gripped the sheets as his fingers dug into her skin. “Oh God…”

  “You won’t think of anyone but me from now on,” he grunted. “I’m the only one who’s ever been inside your pussy, understand?” His tone was strangled. “I want me all over you. Inside and out. Only.” He pushed harshly inside, his fingers digging into the skin by her waist. “Me.”

  “Oh yes. Just you, Enzo.”

  “You’re mine, Jamie Lynn. Mine.”

  “I’m coming!” she screamed as he continued to pound into her relentlessly. Her pussy clenched around his cock like an iron fist, and when he felt she’d taken all she needed from him, he bought his knees to the bed, spread her legs further apart, and pushed her back lower and ass higher as he rammed harder into her. His body covered hers, his strangled breaths coming harshly against her ear. He continued to chant “mine” as he felt himself about to come. He pulled his dick out at the last second, continuing to stroke himself, his cum spilling out all over her ass and back. Seeing her marked was something he’d not known he wanted, but it was a beautiful thing, and a moment later he crumpled down beside her, exhausted.

  “What the ever-loving hell was that?” she asked breathlessly.

  He didn’t answer because, truthfully, he didn’t know what that had been. The thought of another man taking advantage of her made him want to claim her. It had resulted in a surge of possessiveness he hadn’t known he had in him. “Damn, sugar, that was good,” she said, bringing her a
rm to the side and squeezing his ass. He laughed as he stood and helped her up.

  “Come. We need to shower.” He led her to the bathroom. “Sorry about that. I don’t know why I did it.”

  “ ’S okay. It was unexpected, but it was hot. I told you, I like to see this side of you. The out-of-control side.”

  “It’s all you, sweetheart. You make me crazy and reckless.”

  “And you love it.”

  “I do.”

  —

  Sex had never felt so good. So intense. He hadn’t known that sex could be this way, full of reckless abandon. It physically hurt to leave her snuggled in his bed an hour later, after their shower. They hadn’t talked about the future—hell, they hadn’t even talked about what would happen that afternoon—but the thought of Jamie Lynn not being there when he returned from work…it caused his chest to ache.

  “Good morning, Mr. Silva.” Lisa, a temp he’d hired when he’d set up his Florida office, greeted him upon his arrival. He hadn’t intended to be in Florida for longer than a few months. Now, nothing seemed temporary. Those few months had turned into a year, and the thought of returning to Brazil made him sick to his stomach. “Good morning, Lisa. Any messages?”

  She grabbed a handful of notes and handed it to him. “Mostly from your father.”

  He nodded before stepping into his office. Reality began to seep in, and he felt the air beginning to escape that happy bubble he’d been living in since Thursday. He needed to figure out what he was going to do with the Walls. Now that he’d seen how much they meant to Jamie Lynn, and now that Jamie Lynn meant so much to him, he couldn’t knock down those abandoned buildings. It would destroy her and their blooming relationship. But the area surrounding the Walls was the reason he’d come down to Tarpon Springs in the first place. It was what he’d worked himself to the bone for over the last year. He put a hand against his chest, feeling the heartburn that always came when he was stressed.