Army

by Wilder, Chiah

  “Not even your trainer?” Ronica said.

  “Rick? He’s not really my type.” Mia picked up her creamy drink.

  “What’s your type?” Peyton asked.

  Mia tilted her head back. “I like ruggedly handsome guys who have a bad boy vibe.” Like Taylor’s asshole brother.

  “Give me a guy in a fine-tailored suit any day,” Danielle said.

  “Who’re you thinking of?” Ronica asked Mia.

  She frowned slightly. “No one.”

  “You didn’t blush for no one. I know you too well.” Ronica pushed her plate away and leaned back in the chair, staring at Mia. “Give it up.”

  “It’s nothing, really. I just met Taylor’s brother today, and he’s my type except that he’s in love with himself. You know the kind.”

  “Oh … one of those. It’s best to stay far away from him,” Peyton said.

  “I love difficult men,” Danielle added. “They’re a challenge, and so damn masculine.” She licked her lips.

  “I’ve got enough difficult shit to deal with in my life. I don’t need a conceited idiot making it worse,” Mia replied.

  Ronica clapped her hands. “He’s gotten under your skin. I love it!”

  Mia’s jaw tightened and she smoothed out her napkin over and over as if her hand were an iron. “He’s done no such thing. I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to go out with someone like him. He’s a total sexist … probably one of those who think women MMA fighters are akin to mud wrestlers or wet T-shirt contestants. He’s disgusting.” Anger flushed over her neck and face. Why am I getting so mad?

  “He does seem to have gotten to you,” Peyton said, handing her a clean napkin.

  Mia dabbed it over her damp face determined to change the subject.

  “Who had the Tequila Chicken Salad?” the waiter asked as he took it off a large tray he carried.

  Relieved for the distraction, Mia yelled, “Me!” then looked sheepishly down at the silverware as diners at tables around hers stared over.

  After distributing all the dinners, the server dashed away with promises of refilling their water glasses.

  “Hey, Mia,” a jovial voice said behind her.

  She looked up and into Taylor’s face. “Hi. What’re you doing here?”

  “Harry’s Hall was too crowded so we came over here. He gestured to a group of men making their way to the back of the restaurant. Several of the ring girls hung onto some of the men’s arms, including Army’s. All of a sudden, the creamy tequila-lime vinaigrette made her stomach sour. Tearing her gaze away from Dessie, who was molded to Army’s side, she put her fork down. “Are the fights finished so soon?”

  “The guys wanted to cut out early.” He scanned the table.

  With her senses returning to her, she waved her hand around. “These are my friends … Peyton, Danielle, and Ronica.” She pointed at him. “And this is Taylor. He’s got a real good chance of going pro, and he’s a super nice guy.”

  He laughed. “I need to hire you for all my PR.”

  “What’s going on here, buddy?” The smooth-as-whiskey voice slid over her.

  She kept her head down, counting the packets of sugar in the dispenser.

  “Is that you, Stiletto?” The warmth of his breath made the back of her neck tingle.

  She cocked her head back and almost hit his chin—he was that close. “Hey.” She put on the best fake smile she could muster. His gaze shifted downward then his eyes gleamed and she realized that the fucker had a great view down the top of her dress.

  “Seriously?” she gritted, folding her arms against her chest. His mouth curved into a smug smile as he snagged her gaze.

  “Who’s your friend?” Peyton asked as she leaned forward.

  “He’s not my friend.”

  Army glanced at the women. “I’m Army,” he pointed behind him, “Taylor’s brother.”

  “I thought you were a fighter.” Peyton’s gaze blatantly ran over his body. “You certainly look like one.”

  “Thanks for the compliment,” he said smoothly.

  He’s so fucking charming. What a damn act. I can’t believe Peyton’s feeding into his already inflated ego.

  Then his fingers grazed lightly on the back of her neck and her body shivered. Fucking traitor.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling what I am,” he whispered into her ear.

  “Don’t you have to get back to Dessie?” The minute the words tumbled out of her mouth, she regretted them.

  Squeezing her gently, he chuckled. “Good to know it bothers you.” Straightening up, he nodded at her friends. “Another time?” He strode away with Taylor following behind him.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Peyton looked over her shoulder, only turning back around when Army sat down. “You need to hook me up with him. Now.” Her expression was on the edge of desperate as she stared at Mia.

  Mia shook her head. “I don’t know him. I just sorta met him at the fights. Anyway, he’s a total asshole. Can’t you see that? He’d eat you alive.”

  “That’s the guy who’s got you all twisted.” Ronica craned her neck and looked at Army’s table. “He’s perfect for you. You need a strong man. Jorge was a weakling.”

  “Jorge was a gentleman. He was sweet, understanding, compliant, and—”

  “Boring. Isn’t that what you told me all the time?” Ronica smiled.

  At that moment, Mia regretted telling Ronica so much about her last relationship. The truth was that Jorge was the type of man parents wanted for their daughters, and she should’ve been thrilled to have finally found a decent man, but … she wasn’t. He was boring. He agreed with me on everything. I made all the decisions on where we’d go for dates, what we’d do, and how often we’d see each other, and he was too damn tame in the bedroom. Mia’s sexual appetite preferred rough sex that teetered on the edge of darkness.

  “Your silence tells me I’m right.” Ronica picked up her white Russian and took a sip.

  “You’re not right. He sent me flowers and romantic texts. He was a good guy. Any woman would be lucky to have him in her life.”

  “If he’s so great, then why aren’t you two together?” Danielle asked.

  Ronica and Peyton sniggered and a current of anger sizzled up Mia’s spine. “Because Jorge wanted to get married, and I wasn’t ready. If I was, I’d be Mrs. Salvador right now.”

  “Yeah … right.” Ronica shook her head. “You keep telling me you can’t find the right guy, and that’s because you keep going out with guys you think you should like instead of guys that you know you’d like. It’s like trying to fit a square peg into a circle. It doesn’t work, girl.”

  “And you’re saying that he’s”—Mia waved her hand in Army’s direction—“the one for me?” She laughed dryly. “I’m not that desperate. If I ever am, then shoot me.”

  Peyton looked over her shoulder again. “I’m that desperate. Please … please see if he’s available. You seemed to be friendly with his brother. Just ask. He’s so gorgeous. I’ve never gone out with a guy who oozed so much testosterone.”

  “Damn, girl, calm down,” Danielle said, gently touching Peyton’s arm. “Mia’s right—he’s a real heartbreaker. You can tell just by the way he walks and by the smug expression he wore the whole time he was at the table. I bet he’d be awesome in bed, but he’d be gone the moment you’d fall asleep. Definitely not a good bet.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying,” Mia said.

  “What you need is a mix of Jorge and this Army dude. I still like a confident man in a well-tailored suit. I should’ve been a legal secretary instead of a hair stylist. My mom always told me that if I wanted to meet classy men then I needed to get a job where I’d have those kind of connections. I blew that advice,” Danielle added.

  “Who listens to our moms’ advice? If I had, I wouldn’t be engaged to Stuart. He’s just about the most perfect man in the world.” Ronica beamed.

  “How are the wedding plans coming?” Danie
lle asked.

  “My mom’s driving me crazy. The other day we were looking at invitations and she …”

  Mia tuned out her friend and sneaked peeks at Army. Dessie had that goofy look women get when they’re crushing on a guy and think he’s the best thing in life. The way Army leaned down low and whispered into the ring girl’s ear made Mia clench her teeth. He’s probably trying to get a good look at her boobs. That seems to be his thing. Although, Dessie isn’t really covering them up. I know they’re fake. She’s too damn skinny to have such big breasts, but if she’s ever in a flood, she’s gold—her boobs will keep her afloat for sure. Her eyes narrowed as Dessie planted a kiss on Army’s cheek.

  “I’ll be right back.” Mia scooted her chair back and jumped up. She needed to get a breath of fresh air. She hated that she’d stooped so low as to be jealous of Dessie’s boob job, and she was pissed as hell at why it even mattered that the ring girl was hitting on Army or how he seemed to be enjoying it too much.

  Outside, Mia welcomed the autumn breeze which tousled her hair and pinked her cheeks. The warmth that had been in the wind earlier that day had evaporated into the sky, and a chill had crept into the air. Not the bite of wintry gusts, but there was enough of a nip to make Mia shiver and wish she would’ve brought her jacket. Leaves skittered down the pavement, and the aroma of cinnamon and warm spices rode on the breeze, curling around her and whispering of warm winter fires yet to come.

  Mia leaned against the restaurant’s brick wall and inhaled and exhaled several deep breaths. She couldn’t let this stranger get to her. It was ridiculous and totally out of character for her. It was probably the release of all the adrenaline she’d had coursing through her since she’d begun to prepare for the fight a few weeks ago.

  “Aren’t you cold?”

  Mia jumped at the sound of the deep voice—she didn’t hear anyone come out. She pushed away from the wall and let her gaze fall on Army. The yellow glow of the streetlights made his features soft against the darkness of the night. She ran her hands up and down her pebbled skin. “I am. I was just going to head back inside.”

  He stood in front of her, blocking her. “Stay for a few minutes.” He shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders before she could protest. The heat from his body felt absurdly intimate, and she was extremely aware of his fingers brushing the back of her neck. He smelled of leather and caramelized dark coffee beans with a tang of salty herbs to it, and it was the most sensual aroma she’d ever come across. It wrapped around her, and much to her chagrin, desire rippled through her.

  “Thanks,” she croaked, her throat dry with tension.

  “We never really met each other. I’m Army.”

  “Mia,” she said softly. He still stood close behind her.

  “That’s a pretty name,” his breath whispered over the curve of her neck, threatening to ensnare her.

  Without thinking, she leaned back into him, and he ran a thumb along her jaw as his calloused skin scratched her lightly. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you during the fight. You were amazing.” His breath was warm on her cheek and her inner thighs clenched in reaction.

  Army cupped Mia’s chin and tilted her head back so she gazed into his desire-filled eyes. Her lips parted when he dipped his head down as his grip tightened on her chin.

  Her brain screamed at her to stop, but her traitorous body relaxed in his powerful arms. Danger radiated from him, but it only heightened her excitement.

  “Mia,” he said, his low voice a mixture of sensual and gruff masculinity.

  Her stomach fluttered as she closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss.

  “Army! You promised you’d be right back,” Dessie whined.

  The mood snapped all at once. Mia stepped away from Army and ignored the daggers shooting from Dessie’s eyes. She threw off the leather jacket and handed it to Army.

  He grabbed her hand. “Don’t go.” He waved his hand back and forth between him and Dessie. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

  Dessie gasped and put her hands on her hips. “What the fuck?”

  Mia yanked her hand away. “I’m sure none of your hookups do.”

  Army reached out for her again but she glared at him. “Don’t touch me. Go back to wherever you came from, and leave me the hell alone.”

  “Mia, there’s nothing going on with Dessie.”

  “You’re a real jerk!” Dessie yelled.

  “For once we agree on something,” Mia said to her as she opened the front door. “Are you coming in or staying out here?”

  Dessie tossed her bleached blonde hair and stormed past Mia, who looked at Army before she went back inside. “You’re the worst kind of asshole. You pretend to be decent just to further your game.”

  Army glowered. “I didn’t see you objecting, sweetheart. If Dessie hadn’t come out, you’d be rubbing against me like a cat in heat while I had my tongue halfway down your throat. You’re just fuckin’ pissed because you know I’m right. You want me and I want you. Grow the fuck up, lady, and get over here.”

  “Are you for real? You talk like you’re in a low-budget porn film. Unbelievable.”

  “Good luck with your next fight, Stiletto. That name suits you way better.” Army stalked toward her, and she quickly stepped inside as he marched by. She watched as he walked back to his table, said something to Taylor, then headed to the back exit of the eatery.

  Mia sat down and her friends stared at her. She didn’t want to tell them how she almost made a complete fool of herself outside. She was madder than hell at Army, mostly because what he said was true—she was pissed because she wanted him. Your body did. It’s natural to be aroused by an attractive man. Mia would just have to make sure she kept her body in check. It wouldn’t be that hard, especially since she doubted she’d ever see him again. A macho guy like Army had too much pride to seek her out, and in the off chance he did, she’d have to be strong. She was an athlete and used to discipline and sacrifice. Ignoring the fuckface shouldn’t be too hard. If she could withstand Goliath’s grueling workouts, she could handle anything, especially Army.

  “So, are you going to tell us what happened with Mr. Super Stud?” Danielle asked.

  Mia shrugged and quirked her lips. “Nothing to tell.”

  “You looked pretty pissed when you came back and Mr. Super Stud stormed by the table. That doesn’t sound like nothing.” Danielle plopped a bite of cheesecake in her mouth.

  “He’s a jerk, and I put him in his place. Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s all there is to it.” Mia waved the waiter over and ordered a Manhattan—her go-to comfort drink when life got jumbled. Ronica’s penetrating stare told her that her best friend wasn’t buying her nonchalant act for one minute. In time, she’d tell Ronica what happened, but at that moment, Army, and how he made her feel, were the last things she wanted to talk about.

  Not paying attention to Ronica, Mia leaned back in her chair and brought up a subject they all loved—hair color.

  As the women chatted and she sipped her drink, thoughts of Army invaded her mind. The sound of his voice, his touch, his manly scent, and his sexy, but annoying walk all played havoc with her emotions. Mia knew the score with a guy like him, and she could guarantee that she wasn’t on his mind. Nope, Mia just couldn’t get involved with someone like Army no matter how much her body wanted him.

  I have to focus on my business and my training. That’s the key. In a few days, I won’t even remember his name.

  All would be good if only she believed it.

  Chapter Three

  Army stacked bottles of vodka, whiskey, and gin on the glass shelves behind the bar, glancing every once in a while at Tawny as she gyrated around the pole in the middle of the stage. From the way the audience whistled, he knew he’d made the right decision in hiring her for the gentlemen’s club. Army was the manager of Lust—one of the many businesses the Night Rebels owned in Alina.

  “Do you have any kahlúa in those boxes? A coupl
e of customers are asking.” Aspen bent down low and rearranged her tits in the barely-there glitter top she wore.

  “Lemme check.” Army took out his knife and sliced open the top of a box. “There are a few bottles in here. What do they want? Black Russians or straight up?”

  Aspen looked down at the notepad. “One Black Russian and a double shot with one ice cube in it.” She hopped up on the stool and placed her leg over her thigh, then took off her high heels and massaged her foot. “That feels so damn good. These heels are killing me tonight.”

  Army glanced at her five-inch heels, and Stiletto popped into his mind. It’d been two weeks since he’d been in Durango, and every fucking day he thought about her. He shoved open the ice bin and filled both glasses.

  “Whoa. One of the dudes just wants one ice cube,” Aspen said.

  Army grabbed another glass. “What kind of a pussy order is that? One fuckin’ ice cube.” He placed a cube inside the glass then poured the shots in it.

  Aspen giggled. “Are you having one of those days too?”

  He grunted and placed the two drinks at the station. “There you go.”

  “If you need to unwind, Charlie just came in and he can take over. You want me to get him?” She put on her shoe and grimaced when she stepped down from the barstool.

  “I don’t need you to tell me how the fuck to run the place.” Army bent over again and pulled out liquor bottles.

  “I was just trying to help,” Aspen said, her voice quivering.

  He looked up and saw her crestfallen face. “Don’t pay any attention to me, Aspen. I’m just in a pissed-off mood. Nothing personal.”

  “You’ve been in that mood for a couple of weeks. Anything I can help you with?” She smiled warmly at him.

  “I’ll get over it. If you see Charlie, tell him to get the last two boxes of inventory in the back room and bring them to the bar.”

  “Will do.” Aspen’s eyes shone and she blew him a small kiss then walked away, balancing the drinks on a tray.

  Aspen had been crushing on him since she’d first come to Lust as an exotic dancer. Army had hoped that her infatuation with him would lessen over time, but it’d been over a year and it seemed like her feelings for him were even stronger. He’d explained to her that club members were not allowed to date or hook up with any of the employees at any of their businesses, but that didn’t seem to dampen her ardor for him.