Night Shift: A Gay Lovers Romance (The Neon Glass Club Book 2)

by Alex Roberts

  Euphoria wafted over me as hot breath blew down on my neck. Jamie buried his face into my shoulder, and his thrusts came harder. Teeth bit down, and he growled and groaned. A pulse flared inside of me, and his huge cock twitched.

  Jamie cried out, and then the big man relaxed. His weight pressed down on top of me, and I once again took in his sweet smell of leather and Old Spice and sweat. Jamie’s body was hard and tough against mine, and yet his skin was soft, and his touch was gentle. He left his cock inside as he brushed my temple.

  I smoothed a palm over his sweat slicked shoulder, reveling in the muscle and the brawn. The clock on the night stand read a couple minutes after eight. We didn’t have much time, and now I really needed a shower, after all. Jamie’s weight lay comfortably on top of me, his cheek against my chest. It was a feeling I was not ready to give up. Jamie was a feeling I wasn’t ready to give up.

  Jamie’s words came out muffled against my skin. “You don’t have to come this morning. You can sleep.”

  I craned my neck to try and get a view of Jamie’s face. He looked up at me, his chin propped on my shoulder. I ran a circle around the tattoo running around to his back. A smile stole over my lips. “I want to come. You have to introduce your boyfriend to your coach.”

  A light shone in Jamie’s eyes, and that lopsided grin came back. “You have eggs and bacon in the fridge.”

  “No I don’t.”

  “You do now.”

  He shot up to his knees and slapped at the side of my butt. “Get in the shower. I’ll make breakfast. We’ll have to eat quick.”

  ***

  The gym was in one of the older strip malls on the edge of town. Low rent. But, that also meant they had more square footage than the usual place further downtown. Travel mug in hand, Jamie held the front door open for me, and I entered his world.

  I expected it to look like the boxing gyms I’d seen in the movies with hanging bags of various sizes lining the walls and a big ring in the center with a couple guys slugging it out – mouth guards and groin guards and all. Instead, there was a class of maybe a dozen people in the corner decked out in spandex attire, moving around a circuit.

  A guy in jogging pants and a crew cut was at the center, stopwatch in hand. “Switch. Sixty seconds, people. Finish strong.”

  The group shifted stations. A five-foot-four woman picked up a sludge hammer and pounded away with overhand swings on a massive tractor tire. A big dude jumped up to an overhead bar and pumped out chin-ups.

  “Cross fit?” I asked.

  “Yeah. This is the morning class.”

  “Daddy!”

  Jamie lit up like a Christmas tree and hit his knees. “Baby girl!”

  This little, miniature person – maybe five years old – bolted into Jamie’s arms. She was fucking adorable. Pig tails and bare feet and one of those white martial arts uniforms with a yellow belt wrapped around her center. I could see Jamie in her eyes and in that smile.

  “You’re early, baby girl. Where’s grandma?”

  “Shopping. Uncle Donnie said he’d watch me.”

  “I can see he’s doing a fantastic job of that.”

  The man with the crew cut kept his attention on the group of frantically working, spandex clad gym goers, but he pointed directly at us. “Eyes in the back of my head, Jamie. And, time. Hydrate.”

  Jamie stood with his daughter on his hip, and she planted kiss after kiss on his cheek. Jamie wrinkled his nose at her. “Ewww. Don’t you know I don’t like girls?”

  Allyson wrapped her arms around his neck. “You like me.”

  “Well, you’re not a girl. You’re a mini-me.”

  The crew cut – Don, I was guessing – called out, “Great job. I want a good ten minutes of stretching. Get your gee’s on if you’re staying for grappling.”

  I leaned in and whispered, “Grappling?”

  “Kinda like wrestling for martial artists,” Jamie answered. His voice switched tones for his little girl. “And I’m taking it easy today, so that means I’m going to put mini-me in an arm bar.”

  She slapped his chest. “No.”

  “An ankle lock?”

  “Maybe. Put me down.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jamie placed her feet on the ground, and Allyson skipped away to a sweaty woman attempting the splits. I leaned in again. “She’s adorable, Jamie. Does she come here with you a lot?”

  “At least three times a week. I get my own place and she comes to live me, she’ll be here every day. She loves this place.”

  The woman Allyson tottered over to waved us near and then held her hands out to Jamie’s little girl. “Pull.”

  Allyson grabbed hold of her hands and pulled, extending the woman’s stretch. The woman had short cropped hair and tight fitting work out clothing. She smiled up at us as we approached. “Is this your boyfriend?”

  Jamie’s response was immediate. “Yeah. This is Brandon.”

  “Daddy has a boyfriend. Daddy has a boyfriend.”

  Jamie tugged at a pig tail, and Allyson pouted at him. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just the extra strong, caffeinated beverage Jamie had made me which had my nerves jumping all over the place. I smiled and gave a small wave. “That’s me.”

  “Good,” The woman responded. “I was pretty sure it wasn’t just the upcoming match that had Jamie in a good mood. You look good on him.”

  I wasn’t sure what the hell that was supposed to mean, but I didn’t have time to ask. Jamie’s coach approached. “This is Brandon.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Jamie replied.

  “Any felonies?”

  Huh? Jamie looked to me and raised an eyebrow. I realized that was a serious question. “Umm. No.”

  “Great. I don’t care about the patron’s criminal records, but you need a clean bill if I’m going to hire you.” And, he just left.

  I turned to Jamie and pointed after his coach. “What the hell was that?”

  “I told you the gym was growing. Don’s falling seriously behind. Taxes are coming up. Some of the other guys have fights scheduled.” He shrugged. “I told him you were interested in business classes and were good with numbers. The rest is all him.”

  “What’s all him?”

  “Don wants to coach, not actually run this place. He’s looking for someone he can trust to just hand the books over to. He doesn’t want anything to do with that end of things.”

  “I… What?”

  “You trust me, I trust you, thus – Don trusts you. Simple.”

  “Back up. Am I being offered a job?”

  “Yeah. Keep up.”

  “Jamie, I don’t know anything about MMA, and this is the first time in my life I’ve been inside a gym.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  Jamie waved me off. “You don’t need to know much to start out with. The basics of actual business shit is all you need to start out. Don needs someone to do the taxes. I don’t think he’s even opened his mail in a month. His office is a shit show. He needs help now. The rest will follow.”

  Don was back with a clipboard. “Here. Fill those out. Jamie. Let’s move. Class is starting. Just because you’re taking it easy doesn’t mean you get to hold everyone else up.”

  Jamie leaned in and grazed his palm over my cheek. He pulled me into a quick, intimate kiss. “Class is about forty-five minutes long. You can come roll with us when you’re done with that.”

  “Roll with you?”

  “Grapple.”

  “Right. I’ll take a look at this and finish my coffee.”

  “Don’t take too long. I want to teach you how to get me in full mount.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll learn.”

  Jamie trotted to the back of the gym and disappeared behind a door. Allyson was still helping the woman stretch – her calves, now. It took a seat at the row of chairs lining the big front window and looked down at the job application. What was I getting myself into?

  If
I filled out this application, would it bind me to Jamie? Did I want that? I mean, it was nice. The coffee and the sex and his adorable little girl with the yellow belt. What was a five-year-old a yellow belt in? Judo?

  I was still in the phase where ‘getting used’ to things was nice. A job was much more permanent. Don emerged from his office, decked out in a white martial arts get-up with a blackbelt now, and I could see past him for just a moment. Wow. It really was a shit show in there. Stacks of papers all over the place and equipment leaning against filing cabinets.

  “Don?”

  “What’s up, Brandon?”

  “What exactly does this job entail?”

  “I’m just looking to play it by ear to begin with. You can take the office. I don’t want it. There’s a computer in there. Paperwork, mail, memberships, the website, you name it. Do you know how to use TurboTax?”

  “Sure. That’s how I do my own taxes. Do I have to clean the bathroom?”

  “What? No. I have a cleaning company do that. You could probably help whip down the equipment between classes, but that’s all.”

  “Do I get one of those?” I pointed my pen at his white uniform.

  Don tucked his thumbs into his blackbelt. “A blackbelt – you’ll have to earn that, but I can order you a gee, sure. You interested in taking some classes? I can throw those into the job for free.”

  “Maybe. You really have enough office work to keep me busy full time?”

  “Since I switched over to cross fit and MMA training, the business has been growing pretty quick. If Jamie wins this match and gets a pro contract, even more business will be coming our way. Serious guys who want to make a living doing this. I need some serious organization to pull off the kind of gym I want to organize, and I just don’t have the time for it. How are you with web site development?”

  “I don’t know anything about it, but there’s a class at the community college for it this Spring.”

  “Consider it paid for. Do you know how much a web developer costs? Freaking fortune.”

  “What does this job pay?”

  “What do you make now?”

  I considered whether to inflate the number. It wasn’t much, but my rent was cheap, and I obviously didn’t spend much on groceries. “A bit over twenty-five K.”

  “I can match that. Free classes here, and I can pay for your classes at college. I can write that off, right?”

  Why was he asking me? “I think so.”

  “Great. If things continue to work out, we can talk about raises pretty quickly. I need to start class.”

  Jamie exited from that door in the back newly dressed in his own white martial arts ensemble. Allyson skipped up to him, and he collapsed to the mat. His daughter jumped on his stomach, knees first, and Jamie huffed out a big breath of air, but he smiled wide. I printed my name at the top of the application.

  Chapter Six

  It was a small room. Just enough space for make-shift table, about four guys, and an assembly of duffle bags. It smelt stale sweat. I wanted to Febreeze the place. But, at least we had a space of our own. The coliseum was the biggest community stadium in the county.

  We’d gotten there before the crowds filed in, and the place looked rather expansive with the octagon cage at the center of the surrounding stadium seating. The place filled up quick, and it felt much smaller with the seats jam packed with thousands of bodies. Jamie’s fight was in the preliminary bouts, but it was the first which was actually billed as pro. This was it. His chance.

  I hadn’t decided whether to take the job at the gym yet. I was still on the fence as to whether I actually wanted to get involved in this scene. I couldn’t get the blood and violence out of the forefront of my mind. Did I really want to see Jamie in that role? Liking that animal passion was one thing. Actually watching a gladiatorial match of two guys trying to beat the shit out of one another was something else.

  Then there was this little room. I was expecting testosterone and heavy metal and dudes with mohawks punching lockers. And yet, there Jamie sat, bare chested, hands wrapped, eyes closed, breathing deep and slow. Classical music played through the speakers Don connected to his phone. I was expecting half crazed men working themselves into a lather, and here we were – practically ready to do Tai Chi.

  Jamie was calm and collected, meditating as he sat on the flimsy table. I watched him, amazed at how content the man could be right before entering a cage. I leaned into Amy, the woman Allyson had helped stretch out a couple days ago. “Is it always like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “I was expecting more…” I really didn’t know what I was expecting now that the locker punching mohawk myth had been dispelled.

  She seemed to understand without my having to describe it. “Mostly. Some guys get all worked up, but those kind usually don’t get too far doing this. MMA is like any other sport. You need adrenaline, sure, but you need focus and concentration much more. Jamie is strong as an ox, but if he wants to get anywhere, it’s strategy and technique that will carry him.”

  A guy with a Staff t-shirt popped his head into our little room. “We’re ready for you.”

  Jamie took one more big breath through his nose and slowly let it out from between parted lips. His eyes opened and moved first to me then to Don. Amy was right. He was focused. His muscles were relaxed, but his face was serious, and his eyes were intense.

  “Ready?” Don asked. “Can you see it?”

  Jamie nodded. “I see what I want. I’m ready.”

  The bodies in the little room shifted, and Jamie made his way to the door. I got ready to follow, but Jamie stopped and fixed on me over his shoulder. With one strong, fast movement, he had me by the back of the neck and pulled me for a tender, passionate kiss. I breathed in, surprised by his tenacity and responded to his urgent lips. My fingers rose to his muscled sides, and everything inside of me leapt with excitement.

  Jamie pulled away, still holding to the nape of my neck. He looked me hard in the eye, his jaw set, his nostrils flaring. His lips pulled back into a half snarl, and he pulled away. He started an in-place fighters jog, pounding his fists into alternating palms, and headed into the hall.

  Don led the progression, Amy and I following. She nudged me in the side. “Guess I know what gets Jamie worked up.”

  God, I hoped I wouldn’t get a woody in front of the entire stadium.

  The hall quickly opened up into a central flooring area which looked as if it usually a host a basketball court. An announcer at the center of the octagon was introducing Brandon and waved with a sweeping motion in our direction. The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and hisses. The lights went low, strobes flashed, and lights from the cell phones pointed in our direction. The loud, hard rock music I was expecting all along finally blasted from the loudspeakers

  The place looked much larger once again now that the full stadium towered over top of us. Jamie continued his calm boxers jog to the entrance of the octagon were a man in a referee’s uniform waited for him and held out his hands. Jamie outstretched his taped and gloved fists, and the ref turned them this way and that, thoroughly inspecting everything was up to code. The referee next looked up and it gave Jamie a big, over exaggerated grin, and Jamie responded in kind — showing off his mouth guard. The nut check was next, and Jamie taped a knuckle to his cup.

  He launched up the steps and into the raised octagon, jogging around it as his opponent was introduced. The same dimming of lights and outburst of music followed. Having been unofficially excepted into Jamie’s ringside crew, I took my place behind Don in Jamie’s corner.

  I took the crowd in with one sweeping glance. A whole lot of men with a smattering of women. Beer in clear, plastic cups. MMA apparel everywhere.

  “He’s front row right over there.” Amy pointed at a surprisingly small and thin man. “With the tablet.”

  “Who?”

  “The Bellator recruiter. They’re a feeder league for the UFC. Prove yourself in Bellator, and you can
get a big league contract. Six figures.”

  “No shit. He doesn’t look like he belongs, no offense to the guy.”

  “Don’t let the size fool you,” she warned. “He was in the flyweight division before he blew his knee out twice. Those little guys are fast little fucks. They can have you in a crucifix before you have time to blink.”

  “A crucifix?”

  “It’s a… Never mind. I’ll show you at the gym. Here comes Stanley.”

  I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of Jamie’s competitor. Damn. He was a big dude, too. He wasn’t quite as bulky as Jamie, but he was taller. Amy was explaining something to me about reach advantage. Jamie would have to keep his distance.

  I leaned toward Amy and it had to yell a little over the rising excitement of the crowd. “Who exactly is this guy?”

  “Ben Stanley. He has it three pro fights under his belt already, and he’s won them all. Two by choke, one by knockout, and the other by decision. Jamie’s got his work cut out for him. This guy’s good.”

  Jamie still looked calm. He stood near our corner with his legs outstretched and planted in a confident pose, bouncing from the ball of one foot to the other. He stared across the cage at the other fighter, complete concentration outlined on every feature. The referee waved the two men in.

  The high-pitched bell dinged, and the two men walked to the center of the octagon and tap gloves before backing off and lifting their fists in defensive positions.

  Amy pressed against my arm, coming in close for a whisper. “This is the get-to-know-you dance.”

  “The what?”

  “They’re feeling one another out. Sizing up the competition. Figuring out reach, speed, weaknesses, strengths.”