Fight for You

by Charisse Spiers

  This one in particular is yummy. His torso is chiseled to perfection and covered in tattoos dispersed perfectly on his skin. He's definitely worth a second look. I want to nibble on that lip ring in the corner of his mouth. As I study each line of muscle, I find myself wondering if Haddox's body looks like this.

  What the hell, Piper?

  Hot bartender notices me ogling him and walks over with a smirk, leaning forward on his forearms against the top of the bar in front of me. "What can I get you, beautiful?" His eyes rake down my body as if he's already undressing me with his eyes.

  I smile. This one's in the bag. "Hello, gorgeous, how about Pineapple and Vodka, light on the pineapple," I say in my most flirtatious voice. I sit on the stool next to me that just became free and I hand him my card. "Will you start me a tab," I ask, biting my lip.

  He takes it, does what he needs to, and hands it back. "Anything for you, beautiful." He reaches down for a glass, preparing to mix my concoction. Moments later, he sets it before me, smiling. "What you doing later?"

  "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" I lay it on thick, seductively blinking my eyes as I wrap my lips around the drink straw and suck. Girls always have the advantage when using their mouths.

  "She'll be with me." A sultry voice interrupts in a close range behind me.

  The bartender looks over my head and starts to back away from the bar. "Sorry, man, I didn't know she was taken. No disrespect."

  Pussy. I don't need you anyway if you can't even ask my relationship status to the one person that knows. Me!

  I feel like banging my head against the bar. I'm going to need to be intoxicated for this. Holding the small straw against the back of the glass with my index finger, I press my lips to the rim and drain the contents. Goose bumps start to form as I feel the light but warm air from his breathing on the side of my neck. I don't need to look to know who it is. "I thought I had until midnight," he barks out in a low tone outside my ear.

  I can barely breathe with him this close to me. How am I supposed to speak? I don't think I want to at the risk of sounding like a crushing schoolgirl.

  Put on your game face, Piper.

  I need more alcohol and fast. I choose to ignore the sexy man-candy control freak next to me. Where is Alyvia when I need her? She was only supposed to have been going to the restroom, but knowing her she's already in the middle of the dance floor covered in sweat. The girl doesn't even need alcohol. She usually sips beer, but comes for the music.

  The Rumple Minz from earlier is calling out to me. "Rumple Minz; two shots." I call out to the female bartender as she passes.

  The girl is badass. Not even a minute and the shots are patiently waiting for me to consume them. "What can I get for you, sweetie," she asks, but her line of vision is directly beside me. It doesn't even seem to faze her that she is staring at the sexiest man alive. Hardcore is what that means, because even girls in the coffee shop had their eyes glued to him.

  "Same as usual, Brit." She smiles at the sound of her name.

  Wait a minute. Hold up...they know each other? I come to this bar frequently and I've never seen him until the fashion show.

  She grabs a bottle from the tub of ice, twists off the cap, and sits the bottle of Bud Light down in front of him. "My mistake, babe. How have you been? Same ole broody Haddox, I'm guessing?"

  "Something like that," he replies, saying nothing more.

  "And as vague as usual too. Maybe we can catch up once the bar slows down. Enjoy your night." She winks and glances over at me with a look that says she knows what kind of internal mechanical malfunction is going on with my nerves.

  I consume one shot, followed by the other. My nerves are going haywire. The alcohol is finally coursing through my veins, leaving me in a more relaxed state of mind, though not much.

  I feel a hand wrap around my thigh, not far from my girly area. Oh my...

  He spins me around on the stool until I'm facing him. He's so close to my face that I reflexively lean against the edge of the bar. "Are you going to answer my question," he asks, placing his free hand on my other thigh, now holding me in place. The way I feel inside with him touching me has me confused. I don't understand the sporadic jolts going off under the surface.

  He starts to rub my inner thighs with his thumbs and my muscles are flexing down below. How can I concentrate on anything he's saying if he's going to do that? He roughly pulls me to the edge so that he can align his body between my legs. It's really a good thing that I'm not modest, because my dress is hiked up, no longer hiding what’s beneath it. If his body wasn’t pressed to mine I would be flashing everyone.

  In my hesitation he speaks again. "I don't like to be toyed with, Piper, nor do I like to be kept waiting."

  He's starting that controlling bullshit again, pulling me out of my hormonal haze. I press my palms against his chest and push, but he doesn't budge. The alcohol is bringing out my bitchiness. "Maybe I don't like to give myself to a man that hesitates when given the opportunity. I basically put my pussy on a platter and extended it to you, only for you to have to consider it? That's not good enough for me. I may not be the girl to take home to Mom, but I'm better than that."

  A growl sounds within his throat and he clamps down on my thighs, hard, jerking me closer to him than I previously was. His cock is bulging through his jeans, aligned between my legs. Fuck, does it feel marvelous. He grinds me against him, his body flush with mine, and his lips just outside my ear. "Does this answer your question?" His voice sounds angry. "Do you want to know how hard you make me? Huh? Do you want to know how much you push the limits of my control? Well, get ready baby, because tonight you're all mine."

  I can't think of anything but how much I want this. I don't think I've wanted anything this much in a really long time, possibly ever. Something about him takes me out of my head, allowing me to escape into someplace else. I can't explain it, because I don't understand it myself. I feel like such a whore right now, but I don't care. I stopped caring a long time ago. Guys can do it…so can girls. I don’t believe in double standards. In my defense, I'm never like this given the fact that what happened last night did, but that's also more reason why I want to. I want to rid my body of the toxins it holds. I don't want anything left behind of Cole tainting me.

  "Okay." I state in a breathy voice. "Where?"

  "My place. Meet me outside and don't tell Alyvia where you're going. I'm not dealing with her shit tonight."

  He reaches down and adjusts himself, separating us. The distance makes me feel naked. I instantly hop off the stool, attempting to fix my dress. I look around, but no one is paying us any attention. They are too worried about getting laid themselves. That’s the beauty of a bar. "Give me ten minutes?"

  He nods and takes a step back before halting. "Oh and Piper?" I look at him, waiting on what he has to say. "I'll give you what you want, but just remember darkness and light can't coincide. You have to pick a side. Don't say I didn't warn you..."

  He turns and walks in the direction of the exit. I'm not exactly sure what he meant by that, but I don't care. Sometimes I feel like I don't fit in trying to be this girl that I am from day to day. Maybe I'm living a lie. When choosing either sinner or saint, I'm definitely not a saint, but I strive to be a decent person. Perhaps the darkness is where I belong.

  I may not know many things about Haddox Hayes, but I know one thing: you can't force someone in a place they aren't already willing to go. Something is pulling me to him, making me want to explore whatever he has to offer. It's just a hunch, but I get a feeling I'd choose darkness with him every time.

  I search out Alyvia through the crowd. I finally find her dancing with Reese. She looks lost in the music. I grab her arm to get her attention. "Hey, I'm not feeling well. I think I'm going to get out of here."

  "Are you okay? Do you want me to come with you?" As soon as she says it Reese starts looking at her as if that's the worst thing she could offer.

  "No, of course not. I may go to N
ick's for a little while. He's been bugging me to come over lately." I lie.

  "Okay then. Call me if you need me. Okay..."

  She's staring at me, silently hinting that she's really referring to the Cole situation. For once, I'm not thinking about Cole. Excitement rushes through me, now ready to find out what's in store. "Sure thing, Alyvia. You guys have fun."

  I turn and lock my eyes on the target: the doors that lead outside. A sense of urgency hits me and I walk as fast as my six-inch pumps will allow. I reach the doors and take a deep breath. I'm so nervous I'm shaking, and I haven't even made it to the final destination.

  Pushing the door open I strut outside, attempting to be as sexy as possible. He's standing on the sidewalk waiting for me with his hands in his jean pockets. He is impeccably lickable; enough so it's worthy enough that I made up a word. It's the first time I've really noticed all of the ink running down his arms. He's wearing a solid V-neck shirt in navy and light-wash denim jeans. His arms are defined, making his tattoos more enticing to the eyes.

  His eyes are glued to mine, never straying. "You sure about this? There's still time to back out..."

  The fact that he's asking me confirms that this is irrevocably what I want. "Absolutely," I say in my most final tone.

  He raises his arm to hail a cab. When it pulls up to the curbside he opens the door, allowing me to enter first. For such a mysterious, self-proclaimed man-whore he sure is a gentleman. I know tons of guys that wouldn't know to open a door for a female if you shouted it at them.

  The cab ride is deathly silent as we drive through the streets of New York. I know where we are, but I have no idea where we're going. He said his place, but I have no clue where that is. My nerves are running wild as I anticipate what is to come. The fact that he has yet to kiss me or even try only makes it worse. This is completely backwards for me. It seems so planned. Usually, it's meet a hot guy, flirt a lot, make out, and go back to his place with a round of hot, steamy, uninhibited sex, before doing the dreadful but unavoidable walk of shame the following morning.

  If he wasn't a good friend of Alyvia's I'd be slightly concerned at the lack of hormonal emotion driving the actions at hand. He's completely blocked off with a barrier about as strong as the Great Wall of China. I'm at a disadvantage here. I'm not sure whether to make small talk or just remain quiet.

  Lost in my thoughts and confusion, I don't even realize that the cab has stopped. I look out the window at the sky rise above us. "Is this where you live?"

  He nods and steps out of the cab, not saying anything. "Well okay then," I mumble to myself. He stands next to the door, waiting for me to exit. I step out and wait as he pays the driver. He lives in another really nice part of town. I wonder what he does for a living. I would've guessed Brooklyn, but not here.

  He places his hand at the small of my back, waiting for me to move forward. I thought my nerves had calmed down, but I was wrong. I'm trying really hard to concentrate on where I step so I don't fall on my ass and embarrass myself. I'm tipsy, not drunk, but you can never assume anything with alcohol.

  "Are you okay? You look a little nervous," he finally says in a husky voice as we arrive at his door. He speaks. Now that I'm a basket case he decides to speak.

  "I'm fine." I respond in a clipped tone. He's not the only one that can be short and to the point.

  I stand with my arms crossed in front of my chest, waiting for him to open the door. He pushes it open, allowing me to enter first. I walk inside the foyer and stop abruptly. Holy shit! It's massive. A place like this in New York costs a small fortune.

  I turn when I hear his keys hit the wall-side table. "What did you say you do again?"

  "I didn't."

  I roll my eyes and allow them to scan my surroundings. My heels tap across the marble floor as I walk further inside. The colors are red, brown, and cream, giving a masculine feel. I was spot on with the red thing. "Why is it that you get to ask questions about me, but I can't about you?"

  My eyes land on the furthest point of the room. I continue to look straight ahead. I can hear his footsteps behind me, getting closer. "I don't mix business and pleasure. Things like my career and personal life stay separate from each other. I like it that way. I allow you to know what I want you to know about me, and when I choose to reveal it. Don't go fishing for information to Alyvia either. She knows not to give out any information about me to anyone, ever."

  He steps up behind me and brushes my hair to the side, letting it drape over my shoulder. The light brushing of his fingertips against my skin gives me the chills. He kisses the side of my neck and I close my eyes at the contact. Running his fingertips down my arms, he grabs the bottom hem of my dress in each hand, slowly pulling it up my body, baring me inch by inch. My body is expanding and constricting at a quickened pace with each breath.

  Once off, he drops it on the floor beside my heels. He places his hands on the front side of my hips. "This body..." He slams my backside against his front, his erection pressing into the crack of my ass. "Belongs to me until I'm through with it. It’s become something I want. I do not share my things, ever, especially not with another man. For as long as I'm fucking you, it's mine. There will be no one else. Do we have an understanding?"

  He's such an asshole, but for some fucked up reason it's turning me on beyond measurable degree. The feel of his hands on my body has me speechless. "Do you remember that conversation we had about my filter being absent? Nod that you hear me."

  I nod.

  "That includes all things, including punishment. Speak when spoken to. I do not like to repeat myself."

  Punishment? What punishment? This is the second time that word has been brought into conversation. Why does the one word that I should fear now have my sex soaking wet?

  "Yes," I say, but have no idea why I'm going along with any of this.

  "Good. Welcome to the land of the fucked up, where darkness reigns. You have entered into my domain. When I'm through with you, you'll either run away screaming or never go back. Everything you knew before was left at my door." Oh my hell. His words make me want to orgasm at the sound of his voice. It holds so much hardness in it. I clench the muscles between my legs, trying to make the raging hormones cool down a degree. I've never been so ready to fuck in my life.

  As if he can sense what I'm doing, he reaches underneath my panties and presses his middle finger against my clit, exerting pressure. It causes me to gasp at the slight pain. He makes no effort to be soft. It’s a power ploy. "One more thing. You may be stubborn, but when you're with me I'm in control. We will do this one way and that's my way." He presses harder when I don't immediately respond. "Whether you like it or not, you will listen and you will obey. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Crystal."

  He grabs my hand and slowly brings it up, latching it behind his neck. With the same hand, he wraps his arm around the front of my waist and the other now cupping my mound. "Hold on tight," he says in a husky voice, lifting me up his body. I try to hook my legs around his, feeling completely vulnerable.

  He begins walking through the penthouse, though I have no idea where. I'm assuming in the direction of the bedroom. The only skin-to-skin contact I can feel is his hands and arms against my front. I want more. As hot as this is, I don't know if I like feeling this bare while he's clothed.

  He reaches an open door and steps inside. I was right. It's a bedroom. It's open with minimal furniture. A king size bed sits in the center of the back wall. A large window sits on the right wall, revealing the lights that make up New York City. I imagine the view is what sold this place. The bedding is black and dark gray. Touches of red are speckled throughout the room.

  He wastes no time making his way across the room to the bed, stopping at the foot, but never letting me go. "You ready to take a wild ride? Everything about sex that you're used to, forget it. I don't do sweet or romantic love making shit. I hit it hard, hot, and heavy. The rowdier you get, the more turned on I become. If you think it hurts,
I'll fuck you harder. With me, the opposite applies. You say stop, I don't let up. That one word is a trigger for me to fuck you rougher, deeper, and faster. I'm telling you now that one time will not suffice. When we're done here, your pussy will be throbbing but craving more. You have about five seconds. Choose your safe word."

  Shit, I'm slightly overwhelmed...but so turned on. What was it he wanted me to do again? Safe word... right. I can't see him, but damn can he still make himself known. The first word that comes to my head is a word that reminds me of both of us. "Red."

  I can hear a sultry laugh next to my ear. "Fucking perfect," he says in a low tone. He begins rubbing his middle and ring finger over my opening, spreading my wetness throughout and up my folds, moistening my clit. "You ready for me already, baby?"

  I tense as he begins rubbing in a circular motion, unable to stay relaxed. I don't know whether it's the buildup or if it just feels that good, but I don't want him to stop. He torments me in the exact spot I need to orgasm. I can already feel it building down below. "Don't you dare fucking come. I want your energy level at full charge."

  He stops, making it vanish. What the hell? Isn't that the point… to come? Now he will have to start the process all over again, most likely taking longer than before to get to the finale. "Let go," he commands.

  I do as he instructs, releasing his neck and legs from my grasp. He bends forward, placing me on the bed. "Turn over." I do as he says, lying in nothing but my lace underwear and heels. He grabs the back section of his shirt, behind his neck, pulling it over his head until he's standing shirtless in a pair of jeans.

  Damn, his body is better than I imagined. His torso is sculpted to perfection and free from ink aside from two places. The first is a dagger over the heart, piercing the skin to the point of only the handle and the top portion of the blade being visible, as if someone stabbed him through the heart. The wound is gaping and dripping blood. The angle is crazy, and so three-dimensional. The artist must be extremely talented to make it look like that. It looks so real.