Below the Belt

by Sidney Halston

  “You know,” he said, taking a gulp of orange juice as he leaned back in the chair, “I have an interest in a commercial gym in Miami. We could always train there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tony pushed his chair back and took their plates to the sink. “What, you thought I was just a pretty face and a hot body?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve invested. Diversified. I have an interest in a big chain of gyms. It’s not ideal to train there because it’s usually full of people working out and there’s no ring or cage, but the equipment is top of the line and it has an actual roof instead of a gaping hole.”

  She pouted at the mention of the devastated gym.

  “C’mere.” He reached for her hands and pulled her up. He ran his finger along her bottom lip. “Last night was unbelievably great.” He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. “And trust me when I say you were not bad. But I think…” He paused and looked in a drawer. Her brow furrowed. When he found scissors, he lifted the hem of her long T-shirt and cut the sides of her panties until they fell to the floor. She was so shocked she didn’t speak. “So, as I was saying. I think we should do it again. You know…for practice.” He smiled before getting down on his knees, which hurt. Everything hurt in the mornings these days. But he didn’t care; what he was about to do would be worth the pain he’d suffer for the rest of the day.

  “Uh…”

  “Shh. Time for another lesson.” He threw her leg over his shoulder and pressed his lips to her knee, running his face up her leg, until he reached the perfect wet spot. Her head fell back in pleasure, and she reached behind her to grasp the counter. He parted her intimate lips and kissed her clit before he began to suck. She almost buckled, but his grip on her thigh tightened. He looked up and saw her eyes fixed on him. He tongued her clit until she was writhing against him. “I want you to come on my mouth,” he said as he slid a finger into her and continued to suck. She grabbed his hair and pulled him against her as her thighs began to quake. He knew she was coming when his scalp pricked from her grip on his hair. She became even wetter against his mouth as she yelled his name over and over again.

  Tony wiped his face against her thigh before kissing it. He unhitched her leg from his shoulder, straightened her shirt, and stood. The look on her face couldn’t have been clearer. It wasn’t clouded in fear or nervousness; it was confident and translucent. She wanted him. There was no doubt about it. A surge of male pride hit him; he’d gotten her to relax and enjoy sex. He’d done that. And he couldn’t wait to do it again.

  “That pussy of yours is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

  “Not better than the pancakes, I’m sure.”

  “Have you lost your mind, woman? Pussy trumps pancakes every single time. Fuck, pussy trumps almost everything every time.”

  She laughed.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I know that look.”

  She shrugged and pulled him to her bedroom. Once inside, she pushed him on the bed. “Do you mind if I explore?”

  He scooted back and put his arms behind his head. “Explore away.” He loved how she was slowly becoming more comfortable with her sexuality.

  She climbed onto the bed and sat next to him on her haunches, running her fingers across his chest. “I didn’t think I’d like this.” She pulled some of his hair.

  “What? Chest hair?” he asked, and she nodded. “I’m hardly hairy.”

  “I know. It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen before. It’s…manly. I like it.” She continued to let her hands roam across his body. “Actually, I think you have more hair on your face than on your chest.” She leaned down and kissed him before moving lower on his body. When she got to his nipples, she squeezed and played for a few seconds. “Does this do anything for you? Is it just a woman thing?”

  Fuck, the woman was going to kill him. She could use his body to explore, but it was going to take a lot of self-control for him not to come before she finished her exploration.

  The words came out a little hoarse. “Yes. It does things for me. In fact, don’t stop.” She leaned down and kissed his nipple. Then she looked up, her hazel eyes on him, while she bit none too gently on his nipple. He almost jumped off the bed, and she laughed. She kissed, tweaked, and nipped both nipples before moving down. He got up on his elbows a little to see where this was going, although he was pretty sure he knew exactly where it was going. She stood at the edge of the bed and pulled his pants down, together with his boxers. His dick twitched.

  She chuckled. “I think it wants to play.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  She went back to sit next to him and grabbed his dick in her fist. At first the movements were inexperienced, but she quickly got the hang of it. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t help wondering if she’d done this with Rodrigo. She leaned down and kissed the head of his cock, then looked up at him, and all thoughts of her past vanished. What’s with the look? Is she asking for permission? He was rolling out the red carpet; she didn’t need a formal invitation. When he didn’t protest—and, really, what man would protest a blow job?—she took him in her mouth. It was slow and gentle, but it didn’t feel inexperienced. It felt fucking fantastic. She continued to move up and down, sometimes with her tongue, other times sucking, as her hands pumped him up and down. When she began humming against his dick, his hand reached down and he almost pushed her head down, but didn’t. This was her show, so he fisted the sheets instead. “Fuck, Francesca, I’m coming. If you don’t want to swallow, you better take my cock out of your mouth right the fuck now!”

  She looked at him, then sucked harder and pumped faster as she lapped up every single drop of him. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I think I prefer pancakes.” He reached for a pillow and threw it at her, making her laugh.

  —

  Francesca walked into the Grid Iron later that day to check how the guys were doing in their temporary facility.

  Slade saw her come in. “Hey, Frances.”

  “Hi. How are things going? You think the place will work? It’s so small.”

  “It’ll work for a few weeks. We’ll make do. Fred’s worked it out so his guys and our guys aren’t here at the same time.”

  “That’s good.” Francesca looked over at Tony. “How’s he doing?”

  “Better than a few months ago, but he still needs to focus, and he needs to start working on his wrestling skills, since Rodrigo’s a jiu jitsu guy.”

  Francesca walked over to where Tony and Cain were sparing. Tony was looking good—fit and toned, light on his feet—as he deflected Cain’s jab.

  “She’s wearing her armor,” Cain said.

  Tony turned around and smiled when he saw her. His eyes scanned her body encased in a pantsuit and pumps. “Good time for a break.”

  “No. No break. Pretend I’m not here,” she said.

  “I can’t.” He tried to reach for her. “You smell good and look even better.” But she sidestepped him before he could pull her close. She didn’t really want everyone knowing about their…sex…relationship…dating? Whatever it was they were doing, she didn’t want everyone to know just yet.

  His immediate reaction to her rejection showed on his face. Maybe she should’ve kept her distance, or at the very least made sure it was casual—no hurt feelings, no harsh words exchanged. After all, he needed to know that she was still his boss.

  “I wanted to see how the training’s coming along.”

  “Going great,” Tony said.

  Cain just grunted.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Francesca asked Cain.

  “Piss-poor floor skills.”

  “I’ve been working on my floor skills,” Tony protested.

  “Not enough.”

  “Rodrigo is a black belt at Brazilian jiu jitsu,” Francesca retorted. “He’ll crush you if he takes you down. You already lost once because of it. We don’t want it to happen again. You need to work on that.”

  “I don
’t need you to tell me what I need to do, cariño,” he said, irritated. “And you certainly don’t need to compare me to your ex-husband.”

  What the fuck? That wasn’t something everyone needed to know. She was a very private person, and even though it wasn’t really a secret, she didn’t want it discussed at work. “Guys, can we have a minute alone, please?” Francesca asked Cain and Slade.

  “Shit just got real,” Slade snorted. “Hate to be you, brother.” He playfully slapped Tony’s shoulder.

  When they had walked away, she crossed her arms over her chest and got closer to Tony. “In here, I’m not cariño. I’m Francesca or Frances. We will not talk about my ex-husband or anything personal. You’ll respect me and you’ll listen to me. I have too much riding on this.”

  “Well, Francesca, if that’s the way we’re going to play it, then fine. Here I’m Scarface, the kickboxer who’s won five heavyweight titles and the guy who doesn’t need some chick telling him how to train.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “Some chick?”

  His arms were crossed, matching her posture. “Yeah, some chick.”

  She placed her hands on his chest and pushed. “Dick.”

  “Nice. Is that how you treat your fighters? Real professional, cariño.”

  “You’re being a real jerk. Just because we went on a date and had sex doesn’t mean I have to act differently with you in here.”

  “It wasn’t just a date. I’ve seen you naked. You came on my face less than five hours ago. Yes, I think I’m entitled to have a different relationship with you.”

  “You’re disgusting. Stop talking about what happened last night—”

  “And this morning,” he interrupted.

  She tapped her foot on the floor, looking ready to strangle him. “You need to focus on the shit you have to do now. Like getting your ass on the floor and working on technique.”

  He reached forward and ran a finger down her neck and across her collarbone. “You worry about running the gym, I’ll worry about training.”

  She huffed before turning and walking away. If that was how he wanted to play it, fine by her. She stormed out of the gym, went back to her house, changed into her workout clothes, and drove back.

  Within twenty minutes she was standing eye-to-eye with Tony again.

  “So what? Now you’re my girlfriend? Are you like Wonder Woman? Different clothes, different people?” He snorted out a laugh. Cain and Slade looked amused and surprised by the word girlfriend.

  She was pissed. “Girlfriend?” she huffed. “Right now I don’t even like you. And I told you, in here I’m not someone you’re sleeping with.” So much for everyone not knowing her business, she thought. “I came in here to show you how much of a hardheaded asshole you could be and also to show you exactly how much you suck on the ground. Hope you’re ready, Scarface.” She said his name mockingly.

  Slade grabbed a chair and sat down with a smile. “This is gonna be good.”

  “How are you going to show me?”

  “We’re going to grapple.”

  “You”—he pointed at her, then to himself—“and me?”

  “Yeah.” She repeated his gesture, pointing to him and then to herself. “You and me.”

  “So, what, I punch you and then you wrestle me? I don’t think I like that idea.”

  “Unlike you, I know my strengths and weaknesses. I won’t stand here and pretend I can go toe-to-toe with you in boxing or kickboxing. So no, you’re not going to punch me, but I am going to take you down.” And just as he was about to guffaw, she swept her long leg behind his and bent her body so that he was down, flat on his back, in less than three seconds. Another half second later she was sitting on his chest, pinching his cheeks. “Can we admit that we need to work on our skills?”

  He tried to turn her over and get the upper hand, but she possessed techniques he didn’t have. “Here’s where I’d blind you by punching you in the nose and flipping you over. But I can’t punch you, so it’s not really a fair fight.”

  She peered down at him. “Bet you think the problem is that I’m on top. Think that’s what gives me the advantage?” In one swift motion, she flipped them around so that she was now on the floor. From below, she pinched his cheeks again while wrapping her legs around his in an unnatural way. “If I flex my right leg, I’ll pop your knee.”

  He was about to say something sarcastic, but she put a little pressure on that right leg and he grunted in pain. “Okay, fine! Fine!”

  She released his leg and pushed him off. Cain and Slade were all smiles. “Cain is trained in jiu jitsu, so you’re in good hands.”

  Cain stood and prepared to take over. She smoothed her hair and waved at Tony, who was red in the face, with his nostrils flaring. “See you later, honey.”

  She straightened her shirt, winked, and took off.

  —

  What the fuck was the woman doing? Was she having a party? A very somber party? It was later that evening, and Tony had gone straight to her house after leaving the Grid Iron. Tony pounded on the door as hard as he could, but she didn’t answer. He was pissed and embarrassed from the earlier episode where she’d kicked his ass, but he was also impressed.

  A melancholy ballad was blasting through the front door, and he could hear her singing loudly. There was no way she would ever hear him. He went around to the backyard and saw Francesca through the glass sliding door. His mouth fell open. The woman who was usually in a perfect business suit, never one hair out of place, never without makeup, was wearing the rattiest pair of gray sweatpants he’d ever seen, cut off right below her knees. She was barefooted and wearing a loose-fitting WtF T-shirt, her red hair was a matted mess atop her head, and the dorkiest black-rimmed glasses he’d ever seen sat low on her nose as she belted out the ballad.

  He stood on the other side of the glass door to watch. His arms were crossed over his chest and he had the biggest smile on his face when she turned around and saw him. She did a double take, causing her to drop the vase she was holding, and screeched loudly. He moved quickly, relieved to find the door unlocked.

  “Jesus Christ!” She had both hands on her chest, twisting her shirt. “Burro do caralho! Son of a bitch! I almost had a heart attack.”

  “Yeah, I see that.” He closed the door behind him. “Now you’re cursing in Portuguese. Nice. Don’t move.”

  “Why didn’t you knock?”

  “I did.” He stepped carefully, the glass shards crunching under his shoes. Before she had a chance to protest, he lifted her up into his arms and set her on the couch.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You don’t have shoes and there’s glass everywhere.”

  “Can you bring me my slippers, please? They’re by the front door.” She looked miserable. He nodded and laughed when he saw a fuzzy purple pair. He approached her with the slippers dangling from his fingers. She reached up to get them, but he held them higher. He needed a moment to take her in. He was certain he’d never again see her looking this…casual. Jovial. Breathtakingly beautiful.

  She got to her knees, trying to reach up, but he just held them higher with a grin.

  “Tony. Come on, please. Give ’em to me.”

  “Just a minute.” He smirked.

  She let out a breath, as if deflating, and slumped down. Then she tilted her head up slightly, and with one eye looked at him.

  “Can you please tell me, what’s with this?” He waved his arm around.

  She groaned and let her face fall against the couch cushions.

  “Can you breathe?” he said with a laugh. “You know you can’t actually crawl into the couch, right?” He smiled, and she groaned again.

  He sat down beside her, and she scooted over. “I’m waiting.”

  “I think I’ll risk cutting my feet.” She went to move, but he held her arm, preventing her from getting up. Then he grabbed her feet and swung them around to his lap. “I have to tell you, cariño, I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”
r />   She snorted, then tugged at her shirt and tried unsuccessfully to fix her hair. “Uh…yeah. Sure.”

  “I’m dead serious.” He put the slippers on her feet but didn’t let her go. “But what’s with the music? It’s super-depressing.”

  She began to chuckle, which turned into a full-out laugh. She reached into her pocket, took out a small remote, and pointed it behind her, turning the music off. “It’s called ‘Say Something.’ I love this song.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. You didn’t hear me through that godawful singing.”

  She hit him on the chest and he grabbed her hand, holding it against him. Her hazel eyes held his stare for a moment before she averted her gaze and tried to pull her hand away. “Well, I guess it’s good I turned it off, ’cause the next six songs are by Adele, and if you think this is depressing, you don’t want to hear Adele, or my butchering of her awesome voice.”

  “Then you turned it off just in time.” He let her hand go when he noticed she was fidgety. He was making her nervous again. She stood and went to get the broom and dustpan. “And what’s with the clothes?”

  She looked down and then began to sweep. “I wasn’t expecting you. You didn’t call, and I thought you were mad at me for what happened in the gym today.” She concentrated on picking up glass.

  He stood up next to her. “You thought I was mad, so you didn’t call or anything?”

  She shrugged. “If you don’t want me, what am I supposed to do, beg? Men don’t like the whole girl-does-jiu-jitsu thing, and I am who I am. So if you don’t like it, I’ll understand if you don’t want to go out with me again.”

  “I think it’s time we talked.” She shrugged. “Where’d you get the impression I didn’t like you in any way, shape, or form?” She shrugged again. “Haven’t I made it obvious that the feistier you are, the more it turns me on? Today, with you tapping me out, I was pissed because, shit, a girl tapped me out…but it was sexy. Your strength and confidence are sexy, Francesca. And I have to admit, your skill is very impressive.”

  “It is?”

  He nodded. “So I want to know what’s going on with the clothes situation.”