A Fighter's Love

by Lily Harlem

  The ref, McKillen, stepped to the center of the ring wearing black trousers, white shirt and a bow tie. He spoke to both fighters, wagging his finger as he did so. They must have heard him, but while he spoke they stared at each other with steely jaws and narrowed eyes. Belligerence coming off them in waves.

  The ref stepped away, sliding his hands over each other and spreading his arms wide. They were ready to go.

  The music stopped. A bell rang.

  “And they’re off,” Melanie called. “And Grinder is wasting no time. He’s right there, in Jackson’s face. Oh, and that’s an uppercut, followed by another.”

  Jenny folded her arms, locking her hands into her armpits. Every muscle in her body was tense and she feared she might vomit.

  Jackson was light on his feet, skipping around Grinder, dodging blows. He ducked to the right and got a strike on Grinder’s left cheek.

  “And that was a good land,” Melanie shouted.

  The crowd was buzzing. Several called out. Excitement filled the air. This was what they’d paid to see.

  The fighters continued their dance around the ring, throwing punches in equal quantities. The referee followed them, his expression one of utmost concentration.

  Jackson landed a solid upper cut. Grinder staggered to the ropes, bounced off, rapidly recovered. He sent several fast, powerful punches Jackson’s way.

  Jenny wished it would be a quick match. Grinder getting knocked out in the first round would suit her very well.

  But that didn’t happen and soon the men were sparring their way through round two, three and four. On the fifth round Grinder caught Jackson hard on the side of the head, near his eyebrow. Instantly a gash opened up and blood poured down his cheek.

  The ref stepped between them. Grinder turned, his lips pulled back, showing his black mouth-guard and looking triumphant.

  Dale and Michael were at the ready. And as Jackson sank onto a stool in his corner, they were there, patching him up, squirting water into his mouth. Michael clasped his shoulders and said something.

  Jackson nodded, replaced his mouth-guard and stood, slamming his gloves together and jogging on the spot.

  Jenny hoped the cut wouldn’t bleed into his eye and stop him seeing.

  Grinder was there again, in Jackson’s space. It was as if he were taking advantage of Jackson’s injury and kept aiming for that side of face. Did he hope to open it again?

  Jackson got trapped in the corner. Grinder got a low blow in. Jackson skipped around him but Grinder then rushed forward. He used his elbow to jab Jackson’s ribs.

  Jackson flinched.

  The referee shoved at Grinder and held up his hand.

  “And that’s a foul,” Melanie shouted.

  “Dirty bastard,” Jenny muttered.

  McKillen spoke to Grinder, again wagging his finger.

  Jackson walked in a circle, shaking out his arms.

  The bell rang and they were off. Raining punches on each other. Jackson got a good amount of clean throws in, but Jenny had no idea if it would be enough points to win.

  She glanced at the judges on the podium next to Melanie. There was no way of telling. Their faces were stern and focused.

  “And that’s it. That’s got to hurt,” Melanie shouted.

  Jenny rushed her attention back to the ring. Once again Jackson was in the corner. Grinder was ploughing into him. Blow after blow.

  “No!” she gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth. “No! Dale.” She rushed forward, pushing through the crowd. She could stand it no more. She needed to be there, to get Dale to stop it.

  As she shoved her way through the rows of people Jackson slumped double.

  But when she reached the corner, he’d risen again. Seeming to pull in a deep breath, he rescued himself and dodged to the right.

  Grinder followed. But Jackson was ready. He threw forward a punch that appeared to have all of his body weight behind it. It struck Grinder hard on the side of his face, covering his cheek, nose and temple.

  Grinder’s arms dropped to his sides. His head fell backward, then, as if in slow motion, his body crumpled to the floor and he landed on his back. He bounced with the impact, his feet crossed and his arms went wide, in a crucifix. His eyes were closed.

  The audience went crazy. Shouting and clapping and stomping their feet.

  The referee rushed to Grinder. Started counting. He reached ten and stood, signaling to the judges.

  “And that’s it. It’s a knockout,” Melanie shouted. “Jackson O’Brian is tonight’s champion. And so well deserved.”

  Jenny reached the corner and gripped hold of the padding. Dale was staring into the ring, his attention on Grinder.

  Panic whizzed through Jenny. She didn’t like the bloke, but still…

  Grinder opened his eyes. They were glazed. He placed his gloved hand over his forehead and groaned.

  “Is he okay?” Jenny asked.

  “Yeah, babe, he’ll be fine,” Dale said, clasping her hand in his. “He’ll have a headache, but it’s what he signed up for.”

  “Yes. Yes.” Michael whacked Dale on the back. “He did it. He only went and bloody did it. The guy’s a machine.”

  “Yeah, he did, gov.” Dale grinned at Jackson who was pacing in the center of the ring.

  Grinder’s team rushed to help him. He was unsteady but upright. McKillen stood between the two fighters. He clasped their wrists.

  “And the winner is…” Melanie was shouting but her voice was completely drowned by cheering as Jackson’s arm was raised. “Jackson O’Brian!”

  Jackson grinned, showing his mouth-guard.

  Jenny thought her heart would burst with pride. He really had done it. The months of training had all been worth it. This was his dream. This was what he did.

  Grinder slunk to his corner and sat.

  Jackson raised his other arm in the air and did a circuit of the ring. The crowd was clearly very happy with their evening’s entertainment and the outcome.

  He spat out his mouth-guard then looked toward Melanie. “Chuck me that, will you?”

  Melanie smiled, fluttered her eyelashes, then passed the microphone down to the crowd. Within seconds Jackson was holding it, if a little awkwardly in his gloves.

  “I’d like to start by thanking my opponent.” He gestured to Grinder. “It was never going to be easy, getting in a ring with him. And knowing that, knowing his impressive record, had me training harder, going that extra mile. And for that I’ll always be thankful.” He paused. “What can I say, mate, your reputation precedes you.”

  Grinder held up a hand and kind of shrugged.

  Jackson turned to the referee. “My gratitude to you, sir, along with the judges and the gym’s management.” He clapped, sort of, and the audience followed suit.

  When the noise died down, he turned to his corner. “This guy, come on, Michael, get your arse in here.”

  Michael chuckled and climbed into the ring.

  “What’s a boxer without a trainer?” Jackson said. “A street fighter, that’s what. Something I never wanted to be, and this man, who loves this beautiful sport, is the reason I am where I am.” He wrapped his arm around Michael’s shoulder and gave him a rough hug.

  Again the crowd cheered.

  “Along with a trainer…” Jackson said, holding his hand up to quieten the noise. “Every fighter needs a sparring partner. And not any old sparring partner. One who makes him work, night after night. Keeps the pressure on, takes advantages of weaknesses until they’re not weaknesses anymore. Dale, get your butt in here.”

  Dale climbed into the ring.

  “This is Dale, a damn good fighter in his own right.” Jackson rested his arm around Dale’s shoulders. “And thank God I’ve got him in my life because fuck knows where I’d be without him.” He pulled Dale into a short, sharp hug, then released him

  Jenny blinked back a tear. She alone knew how much the two men meant to each other. Jackson wasn’t just talking about his life as
a boxer, but in every aspect of his world. He loved Dale so much.

  “And you.” Jackson stepped up to the corner, his attention on Jenny. “Come on.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Don’t make me drag you up here, woman.” He raised his eyebrows, creasing the steri-strip holding his cut together.

  Jenny took a deep breath, then climbed up between the ropes. The sea of faces all directed her way weakened her knees. She’d never had so many people looking at her before. She spotted Billy, right at the front. His cheeks were red, but he was grinning.

  Jackson was suddenly beside her, his arm around her waist and his hot hard body pressing into the side of hers. Instantly she felt better.

  “This is Jenny,” Jackson said. “Say hi.”

  “Hi Jenny,” the audience called out, their voices low and gruff.

  “What are you doing?” Jenny asked, squirming. She didn’t want to be in the ring with everyone looking at her.

  “Jenny is very special,” Jackson said, keeping her close. “Not only did she organize this match from the beer you’re drinking, your tickets, ensuring rules and regulations are followed, she’s also here supporting me.” With his gloved hand, the one with the microphone propped into it, he caught her chin and forced her to look up at him. “And every fighter needs the love of a good woman.”

  He kissed her. A strong, deep, passionate kiss that told her how special she was to him.

  She melted against his body with the sounds of the whooping crowd ringing in her ears. He was hot and salty and surrounded her with his strength. Who cared if Michael or Billy or anyone else was confused about which guy she was with.

  Certainly not her.

  She was in love with two fighters and their love for her made her strong enough to move forward with her life. She was ready to take on the world and find the happiness she’d been denied for so long.

  Epilogue

  Jackson

  One year later

  Jackson looked around the table. Stella had created a wonderful meal and now with dessert finished and coffee served, he admired his partners as they chatted to friends.

  Dale got on well with Andre. The pair had a similar sense of humor and had even enjoyed a few rounds of golf together. Tristan was a bit harder to crack, though. As time went on Jackson was finding himself admiring the businessman more and more.

  Jenny adored both Stella and Sian. They were her closest friends. She’d confessed she hadn’t had many friends growing up, but these two women more than made up for that.

  Jackson was grateful. Theirs was an unconventional bond compared to most people, but here, in this room, everyone was in a committed ménage relationship.

  “Can you pass the milk?” Edward asked.

  “Sure.” Jackson passed it over. “Have to say I’m stuffed. That meal was amazing.” He took a sip of his red wine.

  “Yeah.” Edward added milk. “Gotta appreciate good food when it comes along.”

  “Not gonna argue with that.”

  Edward went quiet as he added milk and sugar to his coffee. Jackson hadn’t met him as often as the others around the table. Several times when they’d all been together he’d been absent. Away on business, his partner Coben had said.

  Jackson hadn’t pushed. Edward was military, he knew that much. Whatever business it was, he didn’t think he’d be told even if he asked. Edward wasn’t as big built as him, certainly not a heavyweight, but something about the way he moved, held himself, told Jackson he wasn’t a guy to be messed with. He could hold his own in a ring, with rules, sure, but he had a feeling Edward wouldn’t play by the rules if he found himself in a fight.

  “I’ve just booked to take Sian and Coben to Spain for a weekend,” Edward said.

  “Nice. Whereabouts?”

  “Barcelona. Sian keeps on about the architecture and the parks. Thought we’d make a trip of it.”

  “You’ll have a good time. We went about six months ago.”

  “I know. I think it’s Jenny raving about the place that put Sian onto the idea.”

  Jackson chuckled. “Sorry, mate.”

  “Don’t be. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Did I hear you say Barcelona?” Dale said, catching Jackson’s attention.

  “Yeah. We’re going.” Edward sipped his coffee.

  “We had a blast, didn’t we?” Dale winked at Jackson. “Do you remember?”

  Jackson felt his cock harden. Damn the man. He remembered all right. Dale and Jenny had decided it would be fun to tie his wrists to the headboard while he’d been asleep. When he’d woken he’d found them both sucking his cock. But they hadn’t let him come, not for an hour at least, and had teased him and used his mouth to find their own release. When he’d finally orgasmed, it had been incredibly intense and he’d broken the post of the bed from pulling his arms so frantically.

  The next day they’d all been sheepish as they’d checkout of their hotel and left some cash for the damage.

  “Yeah, I remember,” Jackson said, glancing at Jenny.

  She picked up her coffee, went to take a sip but didn’t. She put it back down.

  Jackson frowned. She wasn’t quite herself. He wondered if his suspicions were right.

  “We should get going,” Sian said, tugging up Coben’s cuff to see his watch face.

  “Bugger, yes we should.” Coben tutted. “The babysitter didn’t want to stay after midnight.”

  “Sorry,” Sian said, standing. “We should stay and clear up.”

  “Nonsense, that’s why dishwashers were invented.” Andre waved his arm in the air.

  “And we didn’t clear up at yours last month.” Stella grinned then pulled Sian into a hug. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “We’ve had a lovely time.”

  Edward stood, as did Coben.

  “We should get going, too,” Jackson said, his attention still on Jenny. “If that’s okay.”

  “Yes.” She nodded then stifled a yawn. “I’m tired.” She looked up at Stella. “But it’s our turn next month. It won’t be Dale cooking, because he’d try and disguise a takeout as something he’d created.”

  “Hey.” Dale rose from his chair and rested his hand on her shoulder. “I resent that.”

  She laughed, the lovely tinkling sound Jackson adored. Laughter had been absent from her life for too many years. He liked to think he and Dale were helping to make up for that.

  God I love her.

  And him.

  He looked between the two people in the world who meant the most to him. With a decision coming up whether or not to go professional with his boxing, he needed them more than ever—their strength, their wisdom, their absolute commitment to helping him make the best choice.

  He stood, ready to get home to bed. Being naked with Dale and Jenny was exactly what he wanted to happen next. He was glad there’d been no offer to assist in clearing up.

  He reached Jenny’s coat from the rail by the door and helped her into it. After many goodbyes, hugs and thank you’s they headed outside.

  The air was cool, and without a cloud in the sky, the stars twinkled down at them. He wrapped his arm around Jenny and hugged her as Dale stepped out in search of a cab.

  “You feeling all right?” he asked.

  “Yes, why?” She snuggled against him.

  “You didn’t want your coffee.”

  “No, it smelled strange. Stella must have switched brands.”

  “Over here, you two,” Dale called.

  “Come on. Let’s get you home, I’ve got plans for you,” Jackson said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Yeah, you will, babe.”

  They arrived at Jackson’s apartment. As Dale helped Jenny with her coat, Jackson flicked the lock. He was content when they were all together, here, the door shut and the rest of the world at a distance. They didn’t go to great lengths to hide their threesome relationship, but equally they didn
’t shout about it from the rooftops. But here, now, there was no need to worry about any of that. They were just three people, in lust and love. Nothing else mattered.

  Jenny wandered into the room she used for her clothes and what she called knickknacks. Her flat had been rented out, so she lived here with Jackson now. It made sense, since she wasn’t spending any time in her little place anyway.

  Dale still had his apartment, though he, too, spent most of his time at Jackson’s. He’d kept his flat because Jenny liked the views and he wanted her to be able to enjoy them whenever the desire came over her.

  “Did you have a nice time?” Jackson wound his arms around Dale and pressed his forehead to his.

  “Yeah, they’re nice folk. Interesting.”

  “We’re an eclectic group, that’s for sure.”

  “It’s nice to just be us, as a threesome, and for it to be accepted.”

  “I agree.” He caught Dale’s mouth in a kiss. He tasted of coffee and mint and their stubble scratched together.

  After a few moments, Jackson pulled back. “Come on, let’s take this to the bedroom. I want you both.”

  “I know the feeling.” Dale dragged his shirt from his trousers. As he walked to the bedroom he began to undo the buttons.

  Jackson followed. Though he didn’t bother with buttons. He simply fisted his shirt between his shoulder blades and dragged it over his head. Clothes were a nuisance when he was alone with his lovers.

  He closed the bedroom curtains and flicked on a bedside lamp. As he shoved at his trousers, pushing his underwear down with them, Dale did the same.

  Both naked, they came together. The need for flesh on flesh was acute and desperate.

  Tumbling onto the bed, Jackson roamed his hands over Dale’s chest, his belly, down his legs.

  Dale groaned.

  Jackson smiled against his lips. “Am I not touching where you need it most?”

  “Quit teasing.”

  “What? Like you didn’t tease me by bringing up what a blast we had in Barcelona at dinner? The memories of that night are pretty intense.”

  ‘You love being reminded of that.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Jackson smiled and grasped Dale’s cock.