by Tiana Laveen
You gotta study how a man moves, his mannerisms. You have to look him in his eyes and see if he’s a natural born killer or an imposter. I’ve had both. When you fight your own kind, it is far more challenging. You understand that motherfucker.
He didn’t like the way the man looked at him now, as if gearing up to do something outlandish – something geared to make an example out of him no doubt. Hunter could detect confidence versus fake bravado. This guy definitely believed in himself. That would make the kill all the sweeter.
I’m going to give these people a show. I’m going to let him hit me.
He smiled on the inside as he purposefully slowed down and allowed several upper body cuts to riddle his body, stinging so damn good… Everybody got on their feet, hollering. Some encouraged him, while others called for his demise. Wesley was going crazy, screaming and shrieking for him to put his fucking hands up and show some defense. Inside, he counted down the seconds. The first round was almost over. Decisions had to be made. His mind began to play tricks on him as the man clocked him in the jaw, rattling his whole damn skull. The rich taste of blood coated his tongue.
Blood splatter on the walls… ‘You killed my mommy!’… ‘I’m still your father!’… ’Hunter, that’s in the past. I didn’t know what I was doing!’… ‘Hunter… Hunter!!! HUNTER!’… ‘You little fuckin’ bastard! You look just like ‘er…’… ‘I need to talk to you! YOU OWE ME! MY BLOOD RUNS THROUGH YOUR VEINS!’
BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM! BAM!
Hunter woke up, throwing a right jab, another right jab, then left! A rhythm of pain and destruction! The redheaded joker stumbled back, blood spraying out of his fucking mouth like a geyser. Hunter kept on pummeling the motherfucker until it looked as if he were convulsing and bleeding from every pore. Everything happened so fast, and he couldn’t stop. The referee jumped in, pulling him away. The first-round bell rang, awakening him from his daydream. Hunter shook his head, trying to recall the last twelve or so seconds. His mind was practically blank.
He looked around in a daze. Wesley was smiling, the crowd was screaming at the tops of their lungs, and now, two people dressed like paramedics entered the ring. The guy couldn’t stand on his own, though he tried several times. The medics grabbed him, then loosened their grip at one point, causing him to stumble. He fell over, face first. He didn’t move a muscle and his eyes were closed. The crowd burst out screaming once again and Hunter’s arm was yanked up high.
“The heavyweight champion is, Tyyyyrant, the big, bad Wolfe, by first round KO!” ‘Werewolves of London’, by Warren Zevon began to blast throughout the arena. He swiped at a trickle of blood going down his chin. His Chief Second came running over, patting his face with a towel, slapping his back and chest with congratulations as a crowd began to pile into the ring. He had a splitting headache, but felt damn good regardless, riding a euphoric high.
Suddenly, he spotted Justin helping Nita and her father into the ring, and joy filled him. She wrapped her arm around his sweaty body and he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, then gave Nita’s father a head nod, and Justin a fist bump. A local news reporter shoved a microphone in his face. He looked down at the microphone as if he’d never seen one before. This wasn’t what he expected. Johnny, Wesley, no one said anything about any news broadcasts. As far as Hunter was concerned, he was just a rough and tumble no-name boxer who liked lighting guys the fuck up. Things were going in an entirely new direction.
“Hunter Wolfe! Congratulations!” the young guy began, stars in his eyes.
“Thank you…”
“Many avid boxing fans have been waiting for this match. You’ve gotten quite a reputation in a short amount of time and tonight, we all see why! How do you feel right now?”
“I feel good… yeah.” He squeezed Nita, drawing her closer.
“Did you expect this fight to end so soon?”
“Yeah.”
This caused a ruckus of laughter.
“So, you believe James the Joker to not be a good rival, I take it?”
“Nah, it’s not that.” He shook his head. “The man can fight. He might be called the Joker but there’s nothin’ funny when he catches you slipping. His punches hurt like hell. I can’t take that away from him. I just hit harder.” He shrugged. Pockets of applause broke out.
“You hit harder, huh? Yes! Tonight, I believe we’d all agree. So, how long did you train for this fight?”
“’Bout six months.”
“How long have you been professionally boxing?”
“Professionally? Not long. I’ve boxed most of my life though, just as an amateur. I never had a manager, coach, or trainer until now.”
“So, this is your first professional fight? Wow! I think you have a promising career, sir! Again, congratulations! You’re a rising star. I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of you.”
Hunter shook the guy’s hand and gave Nita a hard kiss. She smelled so damn good, like love and lust rolled in the dust of crushed rainbows and rising sunflowers.
“I’m… in shock,” she finally said. “So proud of you, baby!”
He kissed her cheek. After talking to a few more people from the local press and taking a couple of photos, he headed to his personal suite in the hotel to get cleaned up before the after-party. He wanted to be alone, but he had company. Johnny and Wesley stood on either side of him on the elevator. The two men had been full of enthusiasm and encouragement in front of the crowd, but now, both appeared somber.
“Hunter,” Johnny said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah.”
“Congratulations. You did exactly what I thought you would, only better.”
“Thanks.” Hunter licked his lower lip, the dryness driving him crazy. The dull ache on the side of his face needed ice. He’d tend to it up in the room.
“We’ve changed your room. I have the key. I gave you one of the hotel’s best suites because I knew you’d be celebrating tonight,” Johnny explained.
“Thanks.”
“The party we’re throwing for you has an obscene price tag, but it’s an investment, so you’re worth it.”
“Investment?” Hunter sucked his teeth and crossed his arms. “I told you I didn’t know for sure if I want to make this a career.”
“I know what you told us but you didn’t choose boxing. It looks like boxing chose you.” Hunter sniffed, feeling a bit of snot threatening to escape his nose. His throat was scratchy and his skin crawled with sweat. His adrenaline high was dying down, and he hadn’t had a cigarette in days. He couldn’t wait to smoke. Just like all that time in prison – he’d stopped cold turkey, then lusted for it as soon as he got the chance no matter how long it had been. Nita had remarked how peculiar it was that he could stop for years, then start back up, liking it a bit less each time, but still going about it anyway.
“Johnny, I told you I want to work Ricky’s fight. I know that’s what you really want to talk about.” The elevator doors opened to the 15th floor of the casino. All three men exited, and the others escorted him down the hall. ‘Mr. Roboto’ by Styx played through the hotel hall speakers at a low volume.
“I can pay you more for fights, Hunter, especially if you’re going to keep fightin’ like you did tonight.”
“It’s not just the money.” He took the keycard from Johnny as he drew closer to the door. “It’s deeper than that.”
“What’s it about then?” Johnny questioned. It was obvious the man wanted to go off, but he was treading carefully.
“It’s personal, but I need to do this. It’ll be a one and done. I promise.”
“I don’t like you putting me in this position.”
“Say it’s for charity. I’m donating half of my earnings. I’ll turn it over to you. That’ll get you off the hook.” Johnny’s eyes turned dark. He could tell the man was stunned that he’d thought all of this out and found a formidable loophole.
He slid the card key against the sensor and the door clicked, unlocking itself.
He smiled. The room was absolutely gorgeous. White curtains, white sheets, pillars around the bed, gold accents, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It was like walking into heaven.
“Isn’t this nice?” Wesley piped up, walking ahead. “We made sure your bar was fully stocked. Whatever you want, take it. Your tab will be paid. You’ve got ice, free room service, a robe for you and your girlfriend. She’s staying with you tonight, right?”
“Yeah…” Hunter noticed the glass bathroom with a large shower and towel cubby.
“All right, Tyrant,” Johnny said. “I’m going to let this Ricky thing go. It’s a breach of contract, but I’m going to overlook it. I need you to seriously reconsider taking this to the next level though. I want to take you over to Germany for a couple of weeks to train, but only if you’re serious. You could be big in this sport, Hunter. You’ve got a raw hunger! It’s not about just the money for you. We can see that in the way you fight. You’re vicious, and yet, you follow the boxing rules. Wesley said you never did any head butts and the few times you hit below the belt were purely accidental. Your timing is good and you’re powerful. You’re like the next Óscar Rivas.”
“I don’t know about all of that. I’m just me.” He swallowed, growing thirsty for a beer. He’d been eating clean for the fight, that included no alcohol. It was time to celebrate.
Hunter looked around then spotted what he wanted. He grabbed the bucket of ice, shoved his hand inside of it, and placed a few of the cubes against his jaw.
Wesley picked up the hotel room phone and called for an ice sack to be brought to the room.
“It’s going to swell. I put ice on it for a little while after your fight, but you have to keep working on it. Got you a bag coming. Keep that ice on there until it arrives.”
“I know. It’s fine.” Hunter pulled the curtains open with his free hand to reveal a spectacular view of the city.
“I was worried for a second though.” Johnny chuckled. He stood in the middle of the room, admiring the place. “You started off slow, but Wesley warned me you did that sometimes. Still, to see it in person looked convincing.”
“He had me fooled this time, too.”
The two men laughed.
“There was no reason to be worried.” Hunter became fixated on the flashing lights of the metropolis. “That’s what people came to see. They like the suspense. I was going to drag it out for three rounds but then… I don’t know, I just wanted to get rid of him.” He could see Wesley and Johnny give each other a meaningful glance through their reflection in the window.
“Think about Germany, okay? Think about getting serious, Hunter.” He nodded hesitantly, still unconvinced. “You have what so many wish they had. A presence, skill, talent, aptitude, charisma, and now, a fast growing fan base. Google yourself tomorrow. This fight shocked everybody. I think you’ll be surprised, too. We’ll see you in an hour at the party tonight. If you need anything, holler.”
“I do need something… someone. Find my girl. Have someone escort her up here, please.”
“You got it.”
Wesley snapped his fingers and Johnny followed behind him. They left, closing the door on their way out. Hunter kept staring outside, thinking about his life, about all the shit that had happened from the start of it all until that very moment. He walked over to the nightstand and placed his cellphone down by the alarm clock. That was when he noticed his overnight bag had already been brought to the room. He’d left it with the front desk staff when he’d arrived since they’d stated he would be staying in a new room which wasn’t available at the time. He unzipped it and found his phone charger, as well as a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. After putting his phone on charge, he headed to the shower to scrub the toughest twelve seconds of the fight away. He rubbed hard on his skin removing all the grime, the day, the near-unconsciousness, the hate…
He rinsed all of his troubles down the drain. But they were like heartburn. Bound to repeat. He stepped out and dried off, then walked back to the room.
Nita was sitting on the bed, pretty as a picture.
“Damn, you look so good tonight, baby!” He smiled at her as he ran the towel along his ear, drying himself off. She grinned. Wearing a form-fitting one-shouldered black gown, a silver choker around her neck, and her hair pulled taut in a sleek bun. She looked so damn classy and sexy at the same time.
“Thank you. I got all dressed up for you.” She batted her lashes, being coy, making him laugh. “Hey, Johnny gave me this cigar to give you.” She held it up. He took the white cigar from her hand and set it down on the nightstand then went to bury his head against her chest, needing her something fierce. She stroked him like a pet lion and he groaned. She lifted his gaze to hers, catching him gently by the chin, and winced.
“Oh my God, Hunter. Have you seen the side of your face, baby? It’s inflamed.”
“I know. It’ll be back to normal in a day or two.” Just then, a knock sounded at the door. “That’s the ice pack.”
He went to the door and looked out the peephole. He thanked the guy that brought it and pressed it against his face while he asked if she had any issues parking or finding her seat. He then set the bag of ice down, let his towel fall to the floor, and rubbed gingerly on his bruised arm. Nita’s gaze roamed over his entire body, as if trying to make certain he was okay, still in one piece.
“Do you know how hard it was to watch that fight?” she asked, her voice chock full of emotion. “Do you know what it feels like to see someone you love getting hit over and over again?”
“I do.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Shit! I’m sorry, Hunter.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know… you don’t have to apologize. I’m not that fucking fragile, baby. I was just answering your question.” They went quiet for a spell. “We have a little time before the party…” His eyes hooded. “I wanna make love. Strip.” With a lopsided smile, she stood and began to disrobe, never taking her eyes off him. He lit the cigar as he enjoyed the show. Then, resting it on an ashtray, grabbed the desk chair and rolled it close to the bed. He placed the towel he had on the floor over the seat, then sat down, legs akimbo and sexual thirst taking over. Grabbing his dick, he began to stroke it as he eyed her. He fondled himself harder and harder, letting it swell. He groaned, working himself up with the image of her, focusing on her tits and pussy. He hadn’t been allowed to fuck her for several days, and that restraint had drained his energy. Now, he could finally relieve himself. He could have her all to himself.
She sauntered over without need for a command. When she stood before him, he caught her by the waist, pulled her to him, and curled his tongue along her bud. She shuddered in his grip, raking her hands along his head as she sighed with pleasure. He sucked slow and gentle, building up the tempo until she couldn’t take it a second longer… He lapped at her juices as she exploded along his tongue, shivering in his grip, cursing and calling out his name. When she settled, he kissed her inner thighs, then smacked her on the ass.
“Get up, reach into my bag, and grab the chain leash.” A curious expression on her face, she did as he asked. “Now bring your ass back over here with it.”
She made her way back to him and he draped the chain around her waist first, then his, linking their bodies. “Now straddle me.” Nita followed his instructions. He held onto her hip as they locked eyes, neither willing to break the trance. The chain rattled when he stroked the tip of his cock against her slick slit. Her pussy lips felt soft and gushy…
“Uhh…” She pressed her eyes closed when he drove his dick inside her warm paradise. The chair creaked and groaned as he forced her to ride his languid thrusts. Nice and easy he went, until he was all the way within her, making her feel each push. She exhaled loud; he was taking her breath away. Leaning forward, he clasped her wrists behind his neck and delivered a scrumptious kiss. Tongues gliding back and forth, he fucked her right, his dick moving in a furious rhythm as though he hadn’t had pussy in a thousand yea
rs.
“Just like that…” he slurred, the feeling getting so good, he wasn’t certain how long he’d last. The cold metal of the chain pressed against his flesh, into hers, and rattled each time he plunged inside her. He took the free end that hung to the floor and draped it loosely around his neck, handing her the end of it. “Pull.”
Her eyes got bigger.
“What?”
“Pull the fuckin’ chain around my neck.”
She swallowed, then gently tugged on it. When she did, he lunged deep, sending her screaming and cumming hard. He hugged her tight, making her rest her forehead on his shoulder. The warmth from her mouth turned him on as she begged and came undone against him.
“Pull it. Pull the chain again!” She did it again, and again. Each time, on cue, he fucked her, soaring like an eagle inside her pulsing pussy, moving hard and fast, sticking it to her. “Every time you pull it, I’m going to go so far up in you, baby, people will think your stomach is a fuckin’ teepee. Pull it.” The woman seemed to be in a daze. “Pull the fucking chain!”
She pulled it again, then again, until she was streaming down his shaft and he was cumming hard within her, both of them loud and falling over the edge. They held onto one another, shaking, both now losing control.
“Fuck!” He rocked inside her, firing like a piston inside her warm, sweet walls. “Baby, your pussy is so good! I gotta have it morning, noon and night…” With a moan, he leaned back in the chair, sweat dripping down the side of his face. He closed his eyes, then smiled as she layered his body with tender kisses. While he gently stroked her back, they nestled close, like star-crossed lovers stealing a precious moment. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to slide out of the warmth of her oasis.
“We gotta get ready to go soon. People are waiting for you, baby,” she said, as if reading his mind. He was searching for a way to prolong their time together. “Come on.” She giggled. “We can come back to this later.”
She pulled away from him, causing the chain to rattle. He unwrapped it from his neck and their waists, then tossed it on the floor with a loud clang. The woman shook her head and burst out laughing as she got to her feet.
