by HJ Bellus
I glance over to Layla with mysterious tears in my eyes as I shout the words. Her expression mirrors mine. Then I spot him. A bobbing black hood trimmed in vibrant teal. Boss and Cruz flank each of his sides. Other Diablo fighters follow right behind. The symbolic image of a family breaks the tears free from my eyes. The amount of pride surging through me is off the charts.
Jag keeps his head down as he strides to the ring. Halfway there, he picks up his pace into a jog. I giggle, knowing it’s pure Jag. The man has one gear, and that’s overdrive. His crew doesn’t pick up the pace with him, letting Jag take the lead. He leaps into the ring, tearing off his black robe and thrusting his fists into the air.
He beats his chest with his face tilted to the heavens. His mouth is wide open, and by the way his throat bobs, I know he’s screaming at the top of his lungs. Jag has always been a force to be reckoned with, but in this environment, he’s a king. He owns the entire arena. I don’t recognize the man he is right now, but holy hell he owns my heart even though this Jag is a stranger.
He glances down to me, winks, and then takes his corner. I have no doubt he knew I’d be right by Layla. Everything is the same as Trick’s fight. Boss is large and in charge, slapping Jag around and screaming in his face. My chest tightens at the sight. Boss is Jag’s father, and the love expressed between the two is enough to bring the cruelest person to their knees. Boss doesn’t have to love Jag because of a blood bond. No, he chooses to love Jag without judgment. And that’s something you don’t find every day.
“Layla,” I scream over the buzz of the crowd. “I’m scared.”
She smiles brightly back at me. “You should be.”
I crane my head in question.
“As hard as he fights in this ring tonight is as hard as he’ll fight for you. You should be scared for your heart, Sunni, because once Jag owns it you’re screwed, and I know he loves you.”
It takes me a few seconds to absorb her message. Once it sinks in, the crowd roars to a deafening state. My head whips back to the octagon. Jag and the other man are already dancing around each other. The long hair on the top of Jag’s head bounces back. It’s then I see his opponent connect a punch to his nose.
The blood dribbles down his face. The other guy gets three more punches in, whipping back Jag’s head. All of my former excitement evaporates. My heart plummets to the cold cement ground, watching the man I love get the shit kicked out of him. Not once does Jag’s jackass grin fade as he takes his punishment. It does nothing to the turmoil brewing inside of me.
“I can’t,” I scream, turning to Layla and burying my face in her shoulder.
Her hand comes up to the side of my head, bracing me in comfort. The sounds of the gym echo around me. Layla’s steady grip keeps me grounded even though the bone-crunching sounds continue. I can’t. I just can’t watch the man who brought me back to life get the shit beat out of him. I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering his knee-weakening grin before his gorgeous face dipped between my legs. I focus on all the good memories that warm my belly.
Layla jumps, causing my head to bounce off her shoulder. Her screams reverberate through my skull. She’s long gone as a post to lean on. Her body bounces up and down, which gives me the courage to look up.
I glance up. It’s all flashes of black, teal, and red until my vision narrows on Jag. His flexing calves come into view first. Then it’s his taut ass in spandex. It pains me to look at my safe place, his chest. When I do, all I see are his bulging and flexing muscles. A long arm comes out with a brutal force. Jag’s fist connects with the other guy’s jaw. He stutters back. Jag doesn’t stop throwing both arms, one after the other, some connecting and some not.
The man’s spine collides with the metal of the cage. Jag doesn’t stop until his opponent’s body collapses to the mat. Jag advances on the slumped figure, wrapping him in a chokehold. Unlike Trick’s opponent, who passed out, this guy slams his palm on the mat.
The official breaks in. He doesn’t have to break the two fighters apart because Jag leaps up in the air, coming down steady on his feet. He beats his chest then does a victory lap around the ring. He climbs the ring like a freak of nature. It takes me a moment to realize Trick has climbed the outer side of the ring. They meet in the middle, both straddling the top as they exchange some beastly shit. Jag and Trick pound their chests and fist their hands in the air.
The crowd goes berserk. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Boss walking back to the locker rooms. His back is strong and steady, his head raised in pride. The crowd near him goes wild. He slings out his hand, giving the on-goers their due. Cruz comes into view, growling into Layla’s ear. I hear him say “locker room” and Layla squeal back, “You didn’t fight.”
“You survived!” she shouts to me as Cruz wraps her up. “I only cuss like a sailor at fights, FYI.”
I smile at the enthusiasm coating each word and manage to nod.
Cruz ends up winning in the end when he scoops her up and grumbles he doesn’t give a fuck about not having a fight or something like that.
I’m left standing alone, watching Jag leap down from the top of the cage and somersault into a standing position. He races to my side of the cage and points at me.
“Door. Five minutes.”
I give him a quizzical stare.
“Door, five fucking minutes,” he shouts louder.
The pride and enthusiasm streaming through my veins forces me to nod. I’d give this guy anything right now. Hell, he’s already brought the best out in me with only the rotten side left. He forced me to love when I didn’t have the ability to. I’d rope the damn moon for him, and that’s no joke.
The crowd thins out quickly. I walk over to the door, feeling out of place. Everyone else is with a group of people laughing and talking. I fiddle with my fingers. They still shake from watching the fight. It’s hard to comprehend that Jag voluntarily enters that ring to get the shit beat out of him.
Tonight was amazing watching him even when he was getting punched. To watch the man who is full of life dominate in the ring has to be the best thing I’ve ever seen. I know he had been on a dry spell from all the talk in the diner and bar. The floodgates have opened, and like Layla said, nothing will stop the man.
I sense him before I ever spot Jag. It’s the inevitable tug and pull between us. The crowd who is left behind slap him on the back and offer up words of encouragement. He acknowledges every single person, making them feel special. The smiles he leaves behind make me grin.
“Good girl. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Jag dips his face low to my ear with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m hard as a damn rock.”
“Your face,” I gasp and brush at the cuts and bruises on his face.
“You can put a bag on my head if you need to.” He thrusts his hips into me. “We need to go.”
I burst out laughing.
“Not nice to laugh about a man who has a raging hard-on, baby.”
“Let’s go.” I grab his hand, and we race to his apartment like we did so many nights ago.
Chapter 12
Jag
Winning fights will never get old. The high after is like nothing else. My body is strung taut with adrenaline still racing through it. Fucking had to get my head on straight after seeing Sunni in those short as hell jean shorts.
I grab my keys out of my gym pockets, press Sunni’s back to my door, and glide my body into hers as I struggle to unlock the door. My hips roll in her center. Sunni melts at the touch, bucking against me.
I attack the crook of her neck, licking, sucking, and biting, not giving two fucks if I leave a mark behind. In fact, I want to mark her. Bruise her body with my passion while getting lost in her. I’d planned on our first time being slow and all night long. That went right out the window.
My balls are going to burst if I don’t slam inside of her right now. The lock on the door clicks. I clutch her lower back while twisting open the knob. Walking Sunni backward into the house, I drop m
y gym bag, kick the door shut, and toss my keys on the entryway table.
“Gonna apologize now, Sunni. I promise I’ll make love to you, but right now I need to fuck you hard.” I manage to get out each word between kissing her lips.
“Shut up.” She clutches the sides of my face. “And do it. I want you so damn bad, Jag.”
She crashes her lips to mine. She’s as knotted up as me. Our hands are a frenzy ripping off each other’s clothes. Sunni wraps her palm around my throbbing cock, causing me to drop my head back against the wall.
She sinks down, rolling my balls in her palm as she traces the tip of my dick with her sweet tongue. With hooded eyes, I peer down in time to watch her perfect lips swallow my cock. Sunni stares up at me, not breaking our eye contact. When the back of her throat massages the tip of my cock, I growl and grab her by the arms.
I hoist her up to my chest. Her legs wrap around my waist with her feet locked right above my ass. Her wet pussy glides the length of my cock. The sensation is overwhelming, causing me to bite down on my bottom lip. Sunni’s body trembles in my arms.
“You okay, baby girl?” I ask, my lips gliding along her collarbone.
“Yes. I need you now, Jag.” She tugs the hair on the top of my head. “Now.”
Sunni raises her hips until we are lined up perfect. She slams down on me. I toss my head back, racking it off the wall. I roar in pleasure, feeling her tight warm heat wrapped around me. I could blow right now without even moving. I want my cum coating her creamy skin.
“Fuck, baby,” I grit out. “Condom.”
“No, I want to feel you.”
She’s going to be the fucking death of me. I can beat the shit out of any man, but this sinfully sweet vixen will be my undoing. I want more than anything to fuck her bare but know we aren’t there.
“We have to get a condom.” I dig my fingertips into her ass.
“I have a birth control implant and haven’t had sex in years.” She tugs on my hair once again. “Now fuck me, Jag.”
It’s not lost on me she doesn’t ask if I’m clean. She’s all in, placing her trust in my hands. The action cracks my chest wide open. Emotion clogs my throat, and my eyes burn as my dick throbs inside of her.
I turn us around, so her back is pressed against the wall. Her nails pierce the skin on top of my shoulders as I slam inside of her. It’s relentless and brutal. The rougher I get, the louder Sunni’s cries grow.
“Jag.” I feel the blood creep down my back from her nails. “Oh God, Jag. I’m going to…”
Her song of pleasure dies off in her throat. Her tight pussy clamps around my cock. I watch as she falls over the edge, melting in my arms. I walk to the bedroom, continuing to raise Sunni’s ass up and down, never stopping the tempo of our fucking.
“I want your cum on me.” Sunni buries her face in my neck.
“What, baby?” I grit out.
“Cum on me, Jag.”
The tingle ignites at the base of my spine. I’m there, so fucking close to blowing my load. I want to and don’t want to at the same time. I ain’t about to deny this woman anything. I lay her on the bed then straddle her naked middle. My heavy cock falls between her tits. She smashes them together, cocooning me.
My hips don’t miss a beat, thrusting back and forth. I’m so damn close I close my eyes and place my hands on top of hers.
“You are so sexy, Jag.” She places her hands on top of mine, so I’m squeezing her tits. “I’ve never been loved like this. You brought me back to life. I just wish I could have you forever.”
I heard her words. They sink in. I don’t process them as my cock glides through her luscious plump tits. A guttural growl creeps out from deep in my chest and echoes around the room as the first spurt of my release sprays on Sunni’s silky, smooth chest. It continues as I buck out the rest of my pleasure, leaving Sunni coated in my cum just like she wanted.
“Fuck, baby girl.” I bring a hand to my head and run it through my hair, feeling fulfilled and loved. Loved by a woman who isn’t with me because of who I am or my bank account. She’s here because of me. It’s that simple.
I creep down her body and collapse on top of her, putting most of my weight on my elbows, framing her face. She blushes, realizing what’s sticking between us. I don’t care. It’s raw and real just like us.
“That was the best sex of my life.” I kiss the tip of her nose.
She brushes my hair back, keeping it in place. “That’s a huge compliment considering your track record, Jag.”
“It sure in the hell is,” I add, thrusting my already hardening cock back toward her core.
Sunni’s eyes light up. “Again?”
I nod, slipping back my ass just enough to back inside of her. “All fucking night, baby girl.”
This time I have the willpower to go slow, feeling each push of the seductive pull as I work myself in and out of her. Sunni pulls my face down to hers, leading us in a provocative kiss that matches the rhythm of our hips. We stay like this for long beats of time, feeling every single sensation. I’ll never get enough of this woman. I plan on doing this the rest of the night and well into the morning. I’m gonna fuck her raw out of greed and desire to have her sweet pussy wrapped around my cock.
Chapter 13
Sunni
“Wake up, baby girl.”
Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.
“You’re going to be late for work.” Lips press into my forehead. “You have to open at the diner this morning.”
I moan and roll over on my belly, burying my face in the cloud soft pillow. Jag rolls onto my back, pressing his broad chest into me and kissing along the side of my neck.
“Quit your jobs,” he says between kisses.
I groan in protest.
“You came to my fight and moved in two weeks ago. I got my way, and now I’m telling you to quit your jobs.”
“Jag.” His name comes out in some foreign alien language with my mouth pushed into the pillow.
“I’ll get my way. You just watch.” He nips at my neck and then flips me over on my back.
I throw my arm over my eyes and wiggle underneath his overpowering body as he sneaks down, trailing kisses along my bared skin. His job is easy since the man demands I sleep naked every night. Jag’s tongue swirls around my belly button, forcing a small giggle from my grumpy lips.
He goes lower and lower until he’s seated between my legs. His tongue darts out teasing my core. My hips have a mind of their own, bucking up to meet his mouth. It only takes a matter of seconds before Jag loses all control. He devours me as if I’m the last piece of food on earth. The man can wind me up in a matter of seconds before I’m falling into deep, dark pools of ecstasy.
Jag plays his cat and mouse game, bringing me right to the edge and backing off. I know what he’s doing—making a point. He’ll drive me crazy until I give in and commit to quitting my job. It won’t be happening. Jag isn’t him. The guy who took every part of my life away and then strung me along like his puppet. I refuse to give in like that to someone again.
Jag grows frustrated when I don’t give in. It’s not over that fact, but more of the throbbing issue between his legs. He crawls right back up my body and eases himself into me.
“Mmmmmmm.” I clutch the back of his head. “God, I want to wake up like this every morning of my life.”
Jag stares down at me with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes. “I can make that happen, baby girl.”
“Jag, I’m not quitting my job.” My core clenches as he picks up his pace. “It’s a part of me I don’t want to be taken away.”
“I get it.” He winks. “But I had to give it a try. Having you here naked and barefoot all day and night in my house is a wet fucking dream.”
I laugh. The vibration echoes between our pressed chests. “Naked and barefoot? Isn’t that a given?”
He grunts. His cock throbs inside of me. He’s close, which shoves me with ferocity in the same direction.
“You make me
dumb,” he grits out. “When I’m fucking, you make me dumb.”
He slams his mouth to mine as we both race to the same ending point. It’s magic every single time it happens. Jag and I erupt simultaneously then melt into a pool of limp bodies. Jag recovers first, plucking my body from the bed and carrying me to the shower. These tender moments where he takes care of me, I’ll cherish forever when I’m forced to run again.
***
“Um, Jag, what is this?” I holler in the bathroom.
The steam from the shower smacks me in the face. He washed every single one of my body parts, made love to me under the hot stream of water, cleaned me again, and then smacked my ass, ushering me out. Now he’s singing some damn song while finishing his shower.
“What, baby girl?” He pokes his head out.
I hold up the wrapped package and wave it at him. “This?”
“Looks like a present to me.” He quirks up an eyebrow.
“From Master Cock Ninja to The Pussy Goddess.” I tilt my head to the side.
“I’m not understanding why you’re confused.”
I toss a towel at his face, but he’s faster than me, ducking back in the shower. I shake my head and then rattle the box around. It doesn’t make any sound. I crack up at his chicken scratches on the package and the ludicrous names he’s given us. Only Jag.
I tear back the corners of the paper and then decide to wait until he’s out of the shower. I walk back out in the bedroom and place the package on the bed. I tuck in the horrendous polo shirt and slip on my shoes. The one downside to working at the diner is the uniform. I feel like a preppy school smurf in a royal blue polo and gag-worthy khakis.