Her heart was pounding. The man was sweet and said the most perfect things when he wanted to.
They sat in comfortable silence on the uncomfortable stadium bleachers as they ate hot dogs and chips, drank beers, and watched the first few fights. Tony was actually quite charming and funny when he relaxed. They cheered and roared, laughed, and drank. Every so often, when he wasn’t hollering into the ring as if the fighters could actually hear him, Tony would casually place his hand on her thigh.
Then it was Tommy’s turn. Tony stood and whistled when the fight began. Tommy’s coach looked slightly annoyed since Tony was yelling louder than he was, and the fighter followed Tony’s advice rather than his coach’s. Francesca had to admit, the kid was good. He was fast on his feet and didn’t hesitate on his throws. He was young and needed a lot of training, but if he kept it up, one day he’d be great.
“He’s good, right?” Tony said proudly.
“Amazing!” Francesca said as the referee lifted Tommy’s hand, declaring him the winner.
They made their way down and congratulated Tommy. Tony promised to go by the community center and help Tommy work on some moves, and Tommy promised to keep practicing.
It had been the perfect date, and she didn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. She didn’t really want it to end. “You want to grab a drink at the Pier?” she asked.
“Sure,” he replied. As he drove she checked her phone and was surprised to see a missed call from an unknown phone number and a text. The text was from Rodrigo asking her to call him. She deleted the text and put her phone away. She didn’t have anything to say to him. If it was business-related, his agent would contact Tony’s agent and he’d fill her in.
As soon as they entered the Pier they saw everyone. Jack and Chrissy, Jessica and Slade, Travis, JL, Cain, Violet—even Enzo was there.
Everyone said hello, and even though she could tell they all wanted to know why she was with Tony, everyone discreetly avoided the subject.
Slade slapped the back of Tony’s shoulder. “Hey, man, come play pool with us.”
The women were all seated at a table drinking, and Tony looked at Francesca, unsure. “I’m fine. Go,” she urged.
“Oh…he doesn’t want to leave her alone. They are so cute!” Chrissy squealed.
Francesca’s face crimsoned. “Shut up,” she said playfully.
Tony kissed her cheek and whispered, “You sure?”
“Yeah. Go, have fun.”
“Fine. But this is your chance to have fun too.” She nodded in understanding before sliding into the booth. She’d already admitted to him how she didn’t get to have much fun. He was trying to help her loosen up.
“Whatcha want to drink?” JL asked. Francesca looked at the pitcher of beer. Jessica was having what looked like whiskey, but the rest of the women were having beer. She pointed to the plastic cups and the beer, and JL quickly poured.
“Soooo…,” Violet began with a knowing look.
“What?” Francesca asked.
“You on a date with the Latin stallion?” Chrissy asked.
Francesca snorted. “Oh, stop that.” She gulped more beer and glanced at Tony. He was holding the cue in his hand, but his eyes were on her.
“That man is sexy. Look how he’s staring at you,” Jessica said.
All the women turned their heads. Francesca laughed and shook her head. Tony winked at the women, who all swooned.
They’d been drinking for quite some time before she’d arrived, and they were already tipsy. Chrissy leaned in as if she were saying something crucial to national security. “Can I ask you something?” All the other women leaned in as well and Francesca nodded. “Is he…” Chrissy put her hands apart as if measuring some distance. “An actual stallion?” She waggled her eyebrows, and all the women roared.
“Oh my God. You guys are terrible.” Francesca blushed.
“You’re really not going to tell us?” Jessica pouted. “Or wait!” She put her hands over her mouth. “You don’t know. You haven’t seen it yet!”
Actually, Jessica was right—Francesca hadn’t seen it yet. When they’d done it at the beach, she hadn’t seen a thing.
Jessica slid her whiskey over to Francesca. “Here. Drink this. Loosen up. You always seem wound up, and by the look in Tony’s eyes, you’re going to be seeing all of him tonight!” The women giggled, and in order to avoid more conversation, Francesca took the drink, gulped it down, and signaled for the bartender, Penny, to bring her another one.
For the next hour the girls laughed, gossiped, drank, and said things that made Francesca blush—but she was having so much fun she didn’t care. She excused herself to go the restroom but was stopped halfway by a hand on her shoulder.
“Frankie? Frankie Silva? Is that you?”
She cringed every time she heard someone call her by that name. She turned around to see yet another familiar face. “Adam?” He’d trained with her, Rodrigo, and the rest of the guys when they’d been young. Most of the men had gone off and become professional fighters—her father had followed all the guys’ careers throughout the years and would frequently update Francesca—but this one in particular had won some of the biggest featherweight fights in the world.
“Oh, shit! It is you. You used to be this little tomboy, but now…” He gave her a once-over that sent chills down her spine. “Wow. Looks like Frankie’s all grown up.”
“Frances,” she hissed. “My name is Frances.” She hadn’t seen anyone from her past for nearly a decade, and now she’d been surprised twice in twenty-four hours.
“Yeah, well, Frankie…” He looked her up and down again. This time it was borderline indecent the way his eyes roamed her body and his tongue flicked out. If she were a lesser woman, she’d have shivered. Good-looking or not, the guy was making her uncomfortable.
She looked over his shoulder and was thankful to see Tony busy with the guys. Otherwise she was sure he’d take issue with the man talking to her.
The slime stepped closer. “I heard you’ve been running Pai’s Academy. Now that I’ve seen you, I could be persuaded to start training there again.” He reached up and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “How much one-on-one training are you willing to give me, sweetheart?”
Tony was suddenly next to her and was about to step toward the guy, but she put her arm out to stop him. The last thing she needed was to have Tony get involved in another scandal.
“You’re disgusting. Fuck you,” she said to Adam. Then she turned to leave, giving Tony a look that said, You better follow me or else.
Unfortunately, Adam was an idiot. Instead of walking away or just letting her go, he grabbed her ass and said, “That’s exactly the proposition I was hoping for.”
Before Tony could react, Francesca grabbed the man’s arm and in one quick move pivoted back and around, so that Adam’s arm was now bent in an unnatural position behind him. Tony was too stunned to move, and apparently so were the rest of the guys and most of the other Pier patrons, who were all now watching. No one came to help Adam, who was now silent, probably because he realized he was about to tap out to a woman. Francesca took a step between his legs and maneuvered his bent arm in a way that caused his legs to buckle and the man to fall to his knees. Once there, she quickly changed position until she was bent over his body, his arm hyperextended and on the verge of breaking.
Tony finally unswallowed his tongue and crouched down. “I think she’d like you to apologize.”
The stubborn man only moaned, so she tightened her hold.
“How ’bout now?” Tony said with a smirk.
“S-sorry,” he whimpered. She let go and went to stand next to Tony, who right there in front of all their friends took her in his arms and planted a long sensual kiss on her, one that made her forget her name. There were catcalls and whistles, none of which she heard.
“What was that?” Jessica asked.
“That right there was fucking awesome. That’s what that w
as,” Travis said. “Shit, I didn’t know you could fight.”
Slade had an arm slung around Jessica. “Yep. She used to be bad-ass. I haven’t seen her do anything like that since she was a kid at her dad’s Academy.”
“You knew?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, man. I trained with her father for years; she used to run around in pigtails kicking everyone’s ass.” He smiled at Francesca. “Then she grew up and fought for real. She’s good. Could’ve gone professional if she wanted to.”
“But I didn’t. So let’s not talk about it anymore,” Francesca said, waving her hand dismissively. “Come on, let’s go,” she said to Tony, and pulled him out the door.
When they got to the parking lot, Tony said, “That was so sexy. I think I’m in love.” He put his hand over his heart, then looked down. “At least I know my dick is.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I have to tell you something, though,” he went on, his demeanor a bit more serious than before. “No matter how hot it was, that will never, ever, happen again. I know you can take care of yourself. I have no doubt about that. You believe me when I tell you that?”
She nodded.
“Good, but I’m still a man, cariño. I will never stand by and watch that happen again. I defend what’s mine, and next time you stand in my way, I’ll lock you in the car if I have to and then come back and break his face.”
Francesca put her hands up. “I’m not yours.”
He pulled her close and kissed her. “Tonight you are mine. You didn’t let me beat the shit out of him. Instead you did, and that seriously turned me on.”
“You’re a pig. A moment ago you were threatening to break his face.”
“And now I’m ready to spread you over this car and fuck the shit out of you.”
“You’re seriously a vulgar pig.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “You amaze me, Francesca. You’re the most feminine woman I’ve ever met, yet you just had a hundred-and-fifty-pound professional fighter on his knees. Hell, you have me on my knees right now.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful, you take my breath away.”
She looked down, her face bright red.
“And then I tell you you’re beautiful and you blush. You are complicated as fuck. But so damn sexy.” He cupped her face. “Beautiful Francesca, can I please kiss you now?”
“Why do you always ask?” she said, and gulped. “You know you can.”
“Because that face of yours, it sometimes gives away how scared you are. Not of me, but of us. I just want to make sure that I don’t get too aggressive again. That you want this too.”
“Aggressive?” She snorted. “You? Not at all. That whole thing about fucking me on the hood of your car? Yeah, that was in no way aggressive.”
He laughed before leaning forward and gently brushing his mouth against her plump lips. He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes for permission. Seeing it there, he coaxed her lips with his tongue and nipped her delicately until finally she opened for him, and he penetrated her mouth. Her tongue was hesitant, as were her arms. She seemed unsure.
He pulled away and asked, “You okay?”
She was beet red. “Yeah. Just…”
“Talk to me, cariño.”
“Can you…can we…can we try that again?”
He smiled and without hesitation pressed his lips to hers. This time her arms went around his neck. The kiss was tender and sweet, and he wouldn’t have changed it for anything. His lips on her mouth were open, but this time his tongue didn’t enter. He was waiting on her. For her to make a move. To see how far she wanted to take it this time. Because really, he wanted to take this further. Much further. As in all the way to his house. On his bed. Naked. But he’d been a complete asshole the first time they’d made love, and he felt a lot of regret about that.
After a few hesitant moments, her tongue finally explored his mouth and her body pressed further into his. She nipped his bottom lip and he pulled her closer to him. When she moaned into his mouth, it took all he had not to lift her up and rip her clothes off right there in the parking lot. When she finally released him, she was panting. Her eyes were glazed over.
“Wow?” It was a question.
“Yes. Wow.”
She smiled and got in his car. He went around to the driver’s side and noticed her brushing her fingers against her lips as if memorizing what had just happened. It still shocked him how inexperienced she was. She really was new to this, and she was actually quite delicate.
“Tell me more about yourself,” Francesca said as he began to drive.
“You already know I was raised in a house full of women, and not just women, but Cuban women. That’s five feisty, loud females.” Tony had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her thigh as he recounted some funny stories from his childhood.
“How about your dad?”
“He was a violent drunk. Died a few years ago.”
“I’m sure there’s a story there. You want to share?”
“Not really.” He squeezed her knee as they arrived at her house. To his surprise, she invited him in for a nightcap. Maybe she didn’t want the date to end either.
Once they were inside, he turned the tables on her. “You want to share about Rodrigo?”
She opened a bottle of wine, poured them each a glass, and took a long pull of the red liquid. After a moment she began. “We were young and stupid. We thought we were in love, but it didn’t work out.”
“Expand, please.”
She groaned. “Fine. I met Rodrigo when I was maybe five years old. He was six and had just moved to Tarpon Springs. His parents signed him up at WtF, and like all parents, they thought he was very good. He trained with my dad, never missing a day, and it turned out that his parents were right. He was a jiu jitsu prodigy, according to my pai. We lived across the street in an apartment and I spent all my time at the gym with my dad. I swear, looking back, I was a lovesick idiot. I think I fell in love with Rodrigo the first time I saw him. I really didn’t have any friends, since I was such a tomboy and the kids in school made fun of me all the time, but Rodrigo always defended me through the years.
“Then I turned seventeen. My boobs came in, the braces came off, and even though I still didn’t fit in with the girls, he took notice. He started looking at me as more than a friend. He was the only one. Boys never took me seriously. He asked my father for permission to take me out on a date. My dad is a very strict Catholic, mind you. Plus Rodrigo had always seen him as a father figure, since they spent so many years together training. After some time my father finally agreed. Rodrigo was always very respectful and careful not to cross the line, so we dated for months. By that time he was already agented and about to sign up to do a string of fights overseas. He wanted me to go. My father refused. We hadn’t even slept together yet because of my upbringing. So he proposed, and I said yes. I had just turned eighteen. Had a big falling-out with my dad that lasted all of twenty minutes until he finally consented. Within a week we were married and I went with him to Japan, where the first fight was to take place.
“The honeymoon period lasted less than a month, because as soon as he won the first fight and all those ring bunnies began to hang around him, he started disappearing on me. I suspected he was cheating, but I wasn’t sure. Or at least I didn’t want to see it. I was left alone a lot in a country where I didn’t know the language and I didn’t know anyone, so I shut down and stayed mostly in the hotel wherever we went. When he was around we fought a lot, and the last fight was brutal. We both said some hurtful things, and he made me feel as if I was lucky to be with him because he was this hotshot fighter and I was just this frumpy tomboy. I wasn’t sexy enough, wasn’t pretty like those women who threw themselves at him. Then one day I threatened to leave, and he didn’t fight back. We’d been married a little over two years. So I packed up my shit, took the first flight out, and came back to Tarpon Springs. I found an attorney, who se
nt him the papers; it was all done quickly, and until I bumped into him here we hadn’t said one word to each other since. The end.”
“Damn.” He leaned back and ran his hand down his face. “I’m kind of speechless here. But I guess now I can see why you’re so skittish.”
She sipped her wine slowly.
“I was right when I said that a boy fucked you up. He was a boy who didn’t know a good thing when it was right in front of his face.” He extended his hand to her. “Come here, cariño.” Surprisingly, she put her wineglass down and walked over to him. He crooked his finger into a belt loop of her shorts and pulled her into his lap. “I can’t imagine that he thought you weren’t sexy enough. Everything you do is sexy. The way you walk, talk, argue, laugh. All of it. It’s sexy.”
“Well, I don’t know about all that.” She laughed nervously and tried to stand, but he gripped her tighter.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t try to run away.”
“I’m not. I’m just going to go clean up.”
“That’s not true. You’re trying to run away.”
How could he read her so well?
“So you’re twenty-eight years old and you told me you hadn’t had sex for eight years. Does that mean that you haven’t had sex since Rodrigo?”
“You’re a mathematical genius.”
“Stop being cute.” He pulled on her ponytail. “Was Rodrigo your only one, then?”
“And you.”
“Now I really feel terrible about how I took you last time. You shoulda told me it had been a long time. Did I hurt you, mi amor?”
She didn’t look at him. “No.”
“Do you feel safe with me? Do you think I’d ever hurt you?”
“I know you’d never hurt me, and I’m not scared of you. I’m just kind of nervous,” she admitted, finally looking up at him. “It’s not a safety thing. Rodrigo never physically hurt me. It’s an emotional thing. I’m scared that I’ll start feeling things. That I’ll start depending on you. And then you’ll leave. Every time you say those intense things you say, you freak me the fuck out.”
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