by Unknown
It was nice and all that he wanted to make sure she was safe, but Izzy couldn’t remember the last time she had stepped foot in a gym. The very idea of working out was akin to getting stabbed in the eyes with dull pencils, but she had smiled and said “Okay”. A little exercise wouldn’t kill her, at least she hoped not, and she wouldn’t mind learning some of his kickass moves.
Brock took her hand and led her toward the blue mats. Two huge guys were in the middle of a sparring match, and Brock stopped at the edge of the mats to watch. They fought each other for five more minutes before the blond with colorful tattoos covering both of his arms from wrist to shoulders made his opponent tap out.
“Man, you’re getting slow.” The blond guy came up, and he and Brock did that man-hug thing that Izzy never fully understood. The guy who had lost the match came up to stand beside the blond. He had short brown hair and deep green eyes, and although he was just as big as the other men in here, she could sense a gentler nature. “Izzy, I want you to meet Phillip.” The brown haired guy smiled at her. “And that asshole’s London.” The blond held his sweaty hand out, and although it was a bit nasty, she took it and gave it a shake.
“Nice to meet you.” London grinned and glanced at Brock. “So, uh—”
“This is my girl, Izzy, and we’ll leave it at that, yeah?” London let go of her hand and held both of his up in surrender.
“Touchy, touchy.”
His girl. She liked the sound of that, and even got a little giddy because of it. “So what are we going to do first?”
Brock looked down at her, and a grin covered his face.
“First we’ll start with some self-defense moves. After you have those down we can work on some more aggressive things.” Now it was her turn to grin. She wanted to learn how to take down a guy his size. “I want to see how strong you are, and want to see if someone comes up behind you you’d be able to take them down.”
It sounded easy enough, but she wasn’t a fool. These were trained fighters, and she was going to have her hands full just trying to keep up. She also didn’t miss how London and Phillip grinned at each other.
“Izzy, I would love it if you put Brock on his ass.” London seemed like a troublemaker, but his teasing was all in good fun and his banter did lighten the atmosphere.
They both slipped off their shoes, and he led them onto the mats. Brock had made her put on some workout clothes, which for her consisted of a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. He wore a pair of track shorts, and of course he had to take off his shirt, because what good fight didn’t have a built man rolling around half naked? They stood in the center, and Izzy let her gaze wander over his defined chest. It should be illegal for a guy to look that good. Hell, it should be outlawed for this many gorgeous men to be in the same building with each other. He smirked, seeming to know exactly what she was thinking, like always. Izzy was thankful the other fighters weren’t paying them any attention. No way did she want them to see her land on her ass, which would most likely be the outcome. He rolled his head back and forth on his shoulders, and his grin widened.
Rein it in, Izzy. Pressing her thighs together, she reminded herself now was not the time or place for her to get worked up, especially since they weren’t alone, and Phillip and London were watching.
“Okay, so you turn around, and I want to see what you’ll do when I come up behind you.” He put her into position, and a soft moan only meant for him to hear slipped out of her mouth. He was just so close, smelled so good, and the image of them in the shower just this morning played through her head. His voice was low when he said, “You better behave, baby, because I’m not afraid to take you right here with everyone watching.”
The growl of his voice had her whole body tingling. Come to think of it, he made her being bad sound very tempting.
“On second thought, I’m not gonna take you where all these assholes can see, but I’ll make sure you regret being a bad girl in the gym when we get back home. Maybe I’ll spank your ass until it’s nice and red.” He smoothed his hands down her arms, but stepped away from her before she could say or do anything. “Just pretend I’m a bad guy.”
Izzy took a deep breath and nodded. She sensed him come close to her, and right when she thought he was behind her, she spun around and brought her fist toward his stomach. He caught it easily, used her momentum to spin her around so her back was to his chest, and placed his hand in the center of her chest.
“If I was the bad guy I could have done anything to you right now. You’re moving too fast, not thinking about your actions, and hoping to just hit the target on chance.” He let go and took a step back. “Now this time I’m going to put my hands on you and show you what to do, okay?”
“Yeah.” She felt him move behind her again, but this time she stood still when he wrapped his forearm around her upper chest.
“Grab my forearm.” She did what he said. “You’re going to use my strength against me. When I reach for you with my other hand, I want you to pull my arm on your chest down, spin out of my grasp, grab my shoulders, and knee me in the balls.” Izzy raised her eyebrow even though she knew he couldn’t see her. The first attempt was useless, and the second had her on her ass at his feet.
“Baby, you have to concentrate and really use my strength against me, yeah?” She stood, wiped her butt off, and turned around again.
All right, she could do this. How hard was it to kick some guy in the nuts? He reached around her, and she grabbed his arm. All of her focus was on the way he moved behind her, and she concentrated on that. When he went to grab her with his other hand she spun around, grabbed his shoulders, and brought her knee up. Right when she knew she would have connected with his junk, he blocked her move and pulled her toward him.
“Good job, baby.” His eyes were on her lips, and the outline of his cock was pressed to her belly. He wasn’t hard, but he was still very impressive. “I knew you had it in you.”
“But I didn’t get you.”
His chuckle was deep and short. “Izzy, I train to fight for a living. I also told you what moves to do, so I knew it was coming. Any other schmuck would be on his knees right now.”
She felt good from his praise, and didn’t feel like such a failure now, but the way he was looking at her had everything inside of her heating quickly, and to a boiling point. His flaccid cock started to stiffen, and she gave him a knowing smirk.
He cleared his throat and shook his head, but she didn’t miss how the corner of his lips tilted up in amusement. “Maybe we should practice on the punching bags, get some of that extra energy out?” He sounded out of breath, and she knew he didn’t want her doing anything but going home with him, but they had fucked last night, and again in the shower this morning, and a third time would have her pussy screaming in frustration. Besides, this was a good idea, and she felt better knowing she could protect herself if need be.
“Yeah, I think that sounds like a good idea.”
He led her over to one of the red punching bags, and stood behind it.
“I want you to think of this bag as your worst enemy. Use your anger and frustration on it, and show me how strong you are. Put your body into it, okay?”
The thing didn’t look that bad. She could do this with her eyes closed. Taking on a fighter’s stance, she smiled when she saw Brock grinning as well. Izzy also spotted London and Phillip off to the corner, smirks on their faces as they watched her. Tightening her hand into a fist, she swung it back and threw it forward, connecting with the bag. Pain radiated from her fist and straight up her arm.
“Izzy, I said use your body weight.” He was by her in the next second, looking at her hand and moving his fingers over it. “It’s not broken, but definitely starting to swell.” He met her eyes. “Sorry, I should have actually taken the time to show you how to hit it correctly. I’m sorry, baby.” A throbbing started in her hand, but she gave him a smile regardless.
“It isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have been such a badass.”
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He chuckled, but it was a bit forced. “Come on. Let’s get some ice on it.”
“You okay, Izzy?” Phillip and London came to stand beside her and looked down at her hand.
“That one might bruise.” London winced when he looked at Brock and saw a scowl on his face. “Sorry.” His mumble had her chuckling, and all three guys looked at her.
“I’m fine, really.”
“Regardless, I feel like a major dick-hole. You’re here less than an hour, and I already got you hurt.” He started leading her through the gym and to a small infirmary type room. A metal table sat in the center of the room, and several stainless steel cabinets were lined against the wall. He led her toward a small foldout chair, gently pushed her down so she was forced to sit, and walked over to a refrigerator. He came back with an icepack and placed it gently on her hand. An involuntary gasp left her when the coldness hit the intense heat of her hand, but soon that pain faded and a sort of comfort settled inside of her.
“So, when are we going to do this again?”
He gave her a narrow-eyed look before his features softened, and he sighed.
“I think I might just keep you in a bubble.”
She nudged him in the arm, and that had him smiling. “But seriously, I do like the idea of becoming this kickass ninja.”
“How about I just make sure I’m always there with you, and if you feel the need to go all ninja on someone, I’ll let you beat my ass.”
It was funny, but the thing was he sounded totally serious.
“That’s not going happen, Brock. I have always taken care of myself, and will continue to do so. I want to know self-defense, and I want you to teach me.” He exhaled and ran a hand over his hair.
“I know, and I don’t mean to be a pushy asshole. I just get sick when I think about you getting hurt.” He moved closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe you can let me be all macho and overprotective when we go out places, and I’ll let you take the reins on other times.”
She started laughing, and although she would still continue to do whatever the hell she wanted, she couldn’t help but feel very special and cared for. There was even a girly part of her that liked the fact Brock wanted to keep her safe. He had said he wanted her for more than one night, but it never hurt to hear it again. That had her smiling.
“So, uh, you want to take me out and pamper me?” She was teasing and was glad when he started chuckling.
“Oh, I’d like to do a hell of a lot more than that.” He kissed her temple. “But I guess I can buy you food and shit.” Their relationship may have started off fast and strong, but she didn’t doubt some of the best things in life were done fast and ended up stronger than hell.
Epilogue
One year later
The crowd of people was so thick and loud that Izzy felt like she was suffocating in a sea of bodies. She was close enough to the cage that she could see the residual splatters of blood from the previous fights. Brock was next to fight, and even though she knew he was a machine in the cage, there was also a sliver of fear for him.
“Ladies and fiends, are you ready for a little action?” The crowd went wild. “First let’s bring out the terror of the east, Paulie ‘The Stallion’ Santini.”
A big-ass man climbed into the cage and the boos from the fight watchers echoed through the old, abandoned warehouse that had been turned into the fight house for the night. His dark hair and olive skin spoke of his Mediterranean heritage, but it was also the Italian flag that was tattooed on his back that cemented the fact of where he was from.
“And who you’ve all been waiting to see, the one, the only, Brock ‘The Knock-out’ Larson.”
Everyone started cheering, and she covered her ears. Maria was beside her, the smile and excitement on her face so wide and bright it was blinding.
“Ahh, I’m so excited.” She yelled at Izzy to be heard over the rush of screams. Brock walked out, and if she thought it was loud before the noise was simply earsplitting now. He climbed into the cage and rolled his head on his shoulders. His knuckles were wrapped up with black tape, giving him an almost sinister appearance. Brock’s expression was blank as he kept his focus on his opponent. Over the past year she had been to his training facility enough times to watch him practice, had even been to a few of his fights. Anytime he climbed into the ring always sent a chill of worry through her. Caleb appeared beside Maria and handed them both a beer. The illegal fight matches that Brock participated in were dangerous and sometimes deadly, so her worry was expected. It didn’t matter how well trained he was, there was always the chance that the other fighter would get in the perfect hit and have Brock never waking up again.
Izzy looked down at her engagement ring. They hadn’t set a date for the wedding, but it didn’t really matter. She was in no rush. With Brock’s mother gone, and him not having any other family, Izzy promised him that she would never make him feel lonely ever again. She brought her head back up and twisted her fingers together as she watched the fight start. Paulie bounced on the balls of his feet and brought his fists up right in front of his face. Then the bell rang, and they met in the center of the cage. They were a flurry of coordinated movements, throwing punches, bringing each other down to the mat, and trying to claim dominance. Over and over they did this, and every time Paulie got in a shot at Brock, Izzy covered her eyes and cringed. Of course she always peeked out of the spaces between her fingers, because if she didn’t she’d miss a killer hit from Brock. Her fighter threw a right hook, and then a left. Paulie stumbled back, and blood sprayed from his mouth. Brock turned into a machine, swinging his fist left and right, right and left, pushing Paulie further against the cage until the other guy was forced to hold his arms up to block the blows.
Everyone cheered louder, chanted for Brock to do his signature move and knock-him out with an uppercut. As if he felt her stare and knew right where she was, Brock glanced over at her. Their eyes met for a millisecond, and she wanted to scream at him not to take his eyes off Paulie, but that cocky little smirk came into play and he moved out of the way right as Paulie swung at him. Brock bent his knees slightly, reared his arm back, and the crowed seemed to grow quiet and still as they waited to see the outcome. As if the next moment went in slow motion, Brock swung his arm forward, connected with the underside of Paulie’s jaw, and sent the other guy falling backward. He slid down the cage to a still heap on the floor. He was out cold, and it took several seconds for the crowd to erupt into a chorus of cheers. People stood and slapped each other on the back, money was exchanged, and the surge of energy was a high all in itself.
The sudden rush of people trying to get a closer look at the fighters had Izzy being pushed further back. She stumbled back, the image of Brock standing in the cage searching for her getting smaller and smaller. Her foot caught something, and just as she started falling backward someone wrapped their arms around her waist and brought her up against a hard chest. The stench of sweat and stale beer filled her nose, and when she was turned around and saw the blood-shot eyes, greasy blond hair, and yellowing teeth, her stomach roiled. These underground fight clubs tended to bring in a lot of shady people, and the guy currently starring at her chest was an example of one. He reeked, and his touch felt like acid on her skin. Maria and Caleb were nowhere to be seen, but with so many people going to the front of the cage to congratulate the fighters, it was impossible to find them. She also saw Brock and the Italian fighter were no longer in the cage. Most likely their trainers snatched them up and carted them up before the crowd swallowed them whole. It seemed Izzy was on her own, although ever since that first time Brock had taken her to the gym to help her with some self-defense moves, she never stopped going.
“Let me go.” She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and pain raced up her arm.
“Mmm, you’re one hot little momma.” He leaned in, and she reared her head back. His breath smelled foul, and his oily face had pockmarks on one side. “Wanna come home with me to
night?” He looked down at her chest again, and she made her move. Placing her hands on his shoulders to get the stability she would need, she brought her knee up. Power surged through her when she connected with his balls. He grunted, let go of her, and bent at the waist. His groan of pain was loud enough that the noise all around them couldn’t cover it up.
“I told you to let go of me.” She went to turn at walk away, but clearly he wanted more. He grabbed her thigh and snarled.
“You fucking bitch. I’m going to make you regret that.” Before he could pull her down she turned and brought her knee up again, slamming it in his nose and jumping out of the way when he stood up and promptly fell backward. A great arc of blood sprayed from his nose, and a few drops landed on her white tee. A few of the bystanders close to her stopped and turned around to stare at the now unconscious douche-bag on the ground. Izzy turned on her heel and pushed her way through the throng of people. She was feeling fierce at the moment, and let anyone start shit with her. Izzy was feeling like a badass. A smile formed on her face, and she pushed through the last crush of bodies and saw the door that led to where the fighters waited. Two massive body guards stood in front, their arms crossed over their wide chests, and their signature sunglasses in place. Izzy always thought it a bit ridiculous that they wore those damn things inside, when it was night, but of course no one said otherwise to them. She also didn’t get why they hired guys to guard cage fighters. That had been an ongoing joke she had with Brock, and every time she saw the Hulks she couldn’t help but chuckle inside. They eyed her approach but didn’t crack smiles or offer greetings. They stepped aside, and one of them pushed the door open for her. Izzy stepped inside, saw the lone chair sitting in the center of the barren room, and closed the door behind her. There were a few industrial lights that hung in a line from the rafters. Brock sat in one with his back to her, his flesh glossy with sweat, and a few red splotches marring the wide expanse.