by Izzy Sweet
But there is still that damn two percent, two percent that she doesn’t share. That she won’t talk to me about. I know it’s got something to do with that night I took her into my life, but I can’t get her to tell me what it is.
That shower that night was probably some type of healing thing for her, washing away her hurt and anger. But from what? Was it sexual? I don’t think so. Not only because of the whole still a virgin thing, but also because she doesn’t seem to be like that.
Not that I would really know what a sexually abused person is like…
No, it’s not that, not directly at least. It’s got something to do with family though, if I had to bet. Whenever I steer the conversation towards family, I get shut down quickly and for the rest of the day she walks around looking sad.
Fuck, I hate feeling vulnerable like this. I’m getting involved with someone who could rip my insides out with a single word.
Shit, I can’t lie. I’m a thirty-year-old man whose last major relationship was when Suzie Beamon said yes to marrying me during fourth grade lunch. The marriage lasted exactly one day—she was cheating on me with a fifth grader.
So yeah, me and relationships? This fucking sucks so good.
I want this girl with all my being, but she seriously needs to fucking spill the beans about her past. We need to move the fuck on and get on with our lives. Holding back secrets is not the way to do that.
I want this to go further. I see the guys in the gym who have wives and kids. I want that eventually, and I think she does too.
Fuck! I can’t believe I admitted that to myself. But I want a wife and kids somewhere down the road.
Christy
I don’t like lying to Alex. Really, I don’t. After everything that he’s done for me I feel like at the very least I owe him the truth. But how do I tell him why I left home? Especially now?
I never counted on becoming intimately involved with him. I never counted on developing feelings for him. And now that I’m falling for him, I’m afraid of the damage the truth could do.
I know I should have figured out a way to handle this shit by now, but I thought just disappearing was the easier way out. I figured eventually Travis would move on, maybe find a girl. But after running into him at Burger Bells, I know he’ll never stop looking for me.
I have this feeling deep in my gut that it’s only a matter of time before he finds where I’ve been hiding out… and then what will I do? Run away from everything?
If only I could turn off this fear. If only I could master all these terrible feelings.
Travis is like one great big open wound. The longer I ignore him, the more it festers and smells.
There’s something about him that makes me feel weak and afraid. I suppose that’s why I’ve taken up fighting. I’ve tried to become stronger to protect myself. And physically I’ve succeeded, but mentally I’m still unable to defeat him.
Whenever I’m in his presence, I panic, feeling like a scared little girl. There’s just so much shit he’s done to me mentally. Two long years of bad experiences weighing me down.
Will Alex think less of me if he knows the truth? I think that’s my biggest worry. To the rest of the world I put on this great big show of being strong, of proving myself capable. In the cage I’ll go toe to toe with guys twice my size, but nobody knows I can’t even take my creepy stepbrother down.
I’m a fucking fraud. Most of the time I walk around feeling like a fucking joke. I’m a total fake and Alex has put so much damn faith in me…
“Where the fuck is your head at?!” Dale screams in my face and thumps me on the head with the focus mitts.
I shake the thump off and glare at him. I don’t even know what to say because he’s right, I wasn’t here mentally. I should be training not daydreaming.
There’s less than two weeks left until my fight and I’m not fucking ready. If I don’t get my shit together, I’m going to be destroyed.
“Do you want this, String Bean?”
“Of course I want it,” I say automatically.
“Then why does it feel like you’ve checked out? Ever since your boy toy won his match you’ve been fucking slacking!”
Again, I’m at a loss of what to say because he’s right. Ever since Alex won his match a couple of weeks ago, all the pressure and focus has been put on me and I’ve buckled under the weight.
I think watching Alex’s match has mentally fucked with me. It was so brutal, so fucking insane, I feel like all this training I’ve been doing is nothing but playing pretend. Nothing we do here in the gym even comes close to the real thing.
“Is that how it is?” Dale asks with a look of disgust. “You’re giving up before you even step in the cage?”
“No.” I frown at him.
“I didn’t take you for a fucking quitter, Christy.”
“I’m not a quitter,” I growl, too damn aggravated to be surprised that he called me by my real name.
“Could have fucking fooled me!”
“Fuck you,” I snap and rip the Velcro off the gloves I’m wearing. “You don’t know me.”
“I know you,” Dale says with a snarl and uses the focus mitts to shove me in the chest. “Fighters like you are a dime a dozen around this place.”
I stumble backwards and seriously consider taking a swing at his ugly face.
“You come in here and put on a big show.”
He gives me another shove.
“You get everyone’s hopes up.”
He tries to shove me again but I step back.
“But when it comes down to it, you don’t have the fucking heart!”
I shake my head at him and rip my left glove off my hand.
“You’re just another chick trying to make a buck off her pretty face.”
I throw the glove at his head.
He easily dodges the glove and his eyes glare at me. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”
“How’s what going to be?” I ask through gritted teeth as I rip the other glove off my hand.
“You’re going to mooch off of Beast for the rest of your life?”
If looks could kill, I’d murder him with my eyes.
“Oh, did I finally hit a nerve? Or is it that time of the month?”
“Fuck you!” I scream and launch myself at him, trying to take him down to the mat with me.
But Dale has years of experience on me and must have been expecting my reaction. He easily dodges my hands and even laughs as I scream in frustration when I can’t get a grab on him.
“That’s it! Get fucking angry!” he yells as I stalk him around the cage. “Don’t just take the shit they throw at you.”
Launching forward, he suddenly shoves me backwards with the mitts, nearly knocking me on my ass.
“Channel that fucking rage, don’t run away.”
With a furious snarl, I drop my chin and charge him, finally bringing him down to the floor.
He bursts out laughing as I land on top of him and then we roll together with him shoving the mitts in my face as I try to throw punches at his head. I end up taking more hits to the face than I dish out.
“Am I interrupting something?” Chase asks.
“Nah, we’re done here,” Dale says, rolling off of me.
On my back, I pant, staring up at the ceiling. Was Dale serious? Or did he just say all that shit to get a rise out of me?
Dale rips the focus mitts off his hands and then offers me a hand up. I stare at the hand like it’s going to bite me.
“Come on, String Bean, we’re done for the day.”
I knock his hand away and get to my feet on my own.
Chase chuckles and shakes his head as we walk over to him. “Hey Beast, get your ass over here!” he calls out.
When Alex joins us, Chase gets serious. Looking at me, he says, “I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?”
I could use some good news so I say, “Give me the good news first.”
Chase nods and fl
“Yeah?” I frown.
“Yeah,” he confirms. “Now you’ll only have to fight one fight.”
“What about the purse?” Alex asks.
“It’s the same.”
Alex shoots me a look, obviously pleased, but it feels too easy.
“What’s the bad news?” I ask.
“The bad news is you’ll be fighting Brianna Fark.”
“Who?” I blink at him and Chase laughs. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket, he scrolls through his screen before shoving the phone in my face.
“Her,” he says, showing me a picture of a brunette making an ugly face at the camera while holding her taped fists up.
I still have no freakin’ clue who she is so I just nod my head slowly. “Okay…”
Yanking his phone back, Chase explains, “She’s an up-and-comer just like you, except she’s already had a couple of exhibition bouts.”
Great, so she already has a couple of fights under her belt where I have none.
Chase scrolls through his phone some more. “She’s already made quite a name for herself among the amateurs. Two fights, both knockouts within the first minute of the fight.”
“What the fuck? Why is she in this tournament if she’s already making a name?” I ask, getting a little angry.
I entered this competition thinking I’d be going up against other newbies just like me.
Chase shrugs his shoulders, glancing up from his phone. “I’m thinking this is how her and her team are trying to build up hype. Make her a big name before she even steps into a professional fight.”
“Fuck,” I mutter and shoot a look towards Alex.
He’s frowning with his brows pulled down and his arms crossed over his chest. I guess he’s just as unhappy as I am by this news.
“So fucking what?” Dale asks from behind me. “This doesn’t change shit.”
“He’s right,” Alex agrees and looks pointedly at me. “This changes nothing.”
I bite my tongue, not in the mood to argue with them. It may change nothing to them but it changes everything for me. There’s no way I can do this now…
Chase smirks and holds up his phone for us to see. On the screen, Brianna Fark is looking smug as she talks with a reporter.
“So, Brianna, what’s next for you? When can we expect to see you on Night of Fights?” the reporter asks with a smile curving along his lips.
“Well, Todd,” she says, “I have one more exhibition match coming up before—“
Todd cuts her off. “The match against Christy Heiland?”
Brianna nods and her smug smile sharpens. “Yes.”
“Rumor is that she’s dating the current middleweight champion, Alexander ‘the Beast’ Marsh, and he’s helping with her training. Are you worried that—
Brianna cuts off the reporter and says firmly, “I’m not worried. I saw her at boyfriend’s fight last month and let’s just say I’m not impressed.”
“No?” The reporter asks, and it’s obvious that he’s purposely goading her into talking shit. “They also say that she’s training with former heavyweight champion, Chase Winters, and—“
Brianna starts laughing now. “I don’t care who she’s training with. That blonde little Barbie doll is going to regret stepping in the cage with me. She’ll be lucky if she lasts more than ten seconds.”
“Barbie doll?” Dale chuckles behind me. “That’s a good one.”
Brianna keeps talking to the reporter but I don’t hear much else over the blood rushing through my ears. Barbie doll? Barbie doll?! And lucky that I’ll last more than ten seconds? Oh, fuck that.
“Christy. Christy!” Chase snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I realize he’s been trying to get my attention.
“What?” I ask angrily.
“Do you want to send a response?”
I narrow my eyes and flex my hands. “Depends? Can I send her my fist?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alex
It’s mornings like this that make me feel thankful. I have my health, my wealth and I got the girl.
I’m in the prime of my life. I don’t have to worry about whether or not my next check will cover the rent. And pulling my personal, sexy Valkyrie to me only proves that I’m living the good life.
Her ass molds so well to the front of my body. Her cheeks rubbing up against my cock. Fuck, there isn’t a thing she does that isn’t sexy as hell.
Glancing towards the nightstand, I frown as the numbers on the clock flip over to six-thirty. My phone alarm blares out the loud Klaxon horn.
Fuck, I hate alarm clocks. That’s why I use my phone to get up in the morning and not an actual alarm clock. Clocks can be replaced easily and tend to smash into little pieces when you toss them at your walls.
Christy groans into the arm I have wrapped around her. “Make that bad man stop, Beast.”
Burying my nose into her hair, I say, “Can’t do that, Legs. I’ve got a day full of contract negotiations.”
“I’ll let you touch my breasts,” she says as she pulls my hand down to her bare breast.
“Not a chance, we’ll miss our run and shower.”
“How about sex and a shower?”
Her hips roll into my cock, her ass pushing hard against me. “Fuck.”
“See… Sexy time, a small nap, and a shower,” she says as she clamps my hand down hard on her breast.
“There won’t be enough time for a nap, Legs.”
My hand slips from her breast and I bury it between her legs, lightly tracing the lines of her lips.
Gasping, she reaches behind herself, and firmly grasps my cock. Sliding her fingers up and down my hard shaft, she’s not wasting time. She pulls her ass away from me before spreading her legs wide enough for my cock to slip through her thighs.
Making slow circles around her clit, I graze it a few times before slipping my finger down into her pussy.
Her tight little pussy already feels hot and wet for me.
Grabbing her hip tightly, I pull my finger out, ready to thrust inside of her.
“Fuck!” I shout out as I roll away from her, my hard cock waving in the air.
She may be on the pill now but it’s not worth risking it. Getting pregnant now would really hurt her career.
Grabbing a condom off the nightstand, I groan when she moans, “Hurry, Alex, I need you.”
Ripping the foil and rolling the little fucker on takes more time than I would like.
Rolling back to her, I nestle the head of my cock right against her pussy lips. Not waiting a moment longer, I push my cock into her tight pussy.
Shit, even with a condom on it’s like slipping my cock into molten fire every inch of the way.
I wrap an arm around her and pull her hip back hard against my hips. My thick cock slams the last few inches inside of her.
Her breath comes out in a raspy gasp and she reaches back, gripping my hip with her hand, trying to keep me right where I am.
“Oh, god!” she cries out.
“Yeah, you can call me that.”
“Shut up, Old Man…”
Growling, I pull back and thrust hard into her. “What was that?”
“Mmm, nothing, just keep going.”
I slow myself, and instead of roughly slamming my cock hard inside her, I set a steady pace. Each thrust I push as deep as I can until I bottom out. My hand roams up to grab her breast, pinching her nipple, then slides down, slipping across her slick clit.
Every time my finger slides across her clit, Christy pushes back into me.
We go on for longer than I intended to, but in the end we reach our peaks at the same time. She slides over and I come right along with her, feeling her walls clench down on me. Each pulse I shoot out feels like a little death.
When our bodies finally relax, we rest for a long moment, catching our breath.
<br /> “Race you to the shower!” she cries out suddenly.
“Are you fucking serious?” I ask as she hops out of the bed.
“Yeah, last one to the shower has to wash the other one first!”
I make like I’m going to charge out of bed after her, but smile when she darts to the bathroom.
I like being last if I get to soap her up.
* * *
Setting down her plate of eggs with tons of sausage, I watch as she goes about eating it with an air of someone who is going to work.
“Christy! Enjoy it, there’s no rush!” I laugh as she lifts her glass of orange juice, not even bothering to swallow what’s in her mouth first.
Looking down at my own food, I start cutting it all up then dump hot sauce all over it. “It’s like you have somewhere important to be or something!”
She finally finishes her mouthful with a grin. “I get the Bitch all to myself today!”
Rolling my eyes, I groan and put a hand to my heart. “You have to be careful with my car, Christy, she’s more valuable to me than you are.”
“Yeah, right, grandpa. Your car can’t do what I did for you in the shower.”
“Fuck, if a car could do that I wouldn’t need women.”
“That’s just sick.”
Taking a bite of my food, I nod my head. “So what are you and Muffin going to do today?”
“Well… I saw this store in the mall a couple months ago I want to go to with her. They make the coolest dog clothes!”
My eyes widen as I look over to the hound of hell with pink painted toenails. “No, absolutely not. You can’t make her all girly!”
Christy’s arms cross in front of her chest as she sits back. “She needs girl time too, Old Man. She told me so.”
“Is that right?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Well, do you see her complaining about her pretty nails?”
“Fuck.” She’s right about that. Muffin was practically prancing around the house when I came home to see that Christy had been having fun with her.
Shaking my head, I say, “Promise me she won’t be wearing a tutu.”
Smirking, she says, “If she does, I’ll make sure it has skulls and crossbones.”
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