Stone Cold Knockout

by Lavender Parker

  “I don't want the culture shock to kill you,” she announced as she made a sharp illegal left onto Fort Washington. “It's very different from the rest of Manhattan.”

  “You worry too much,” he said. “Nothing shocks me.” She pointed down a hilly street as they passed.

  “When Big J first came up here after he got back from Iraq in '91, it was all drugs and crime,” she said, looking down the clean, tree-lined 181st toward the George Washington Bridge. “Hard to believe it now.” The neighborhood had been gentrified, but the old-timers still hung in there. And Hector and Tate still lived in Washington Heights, along with Donny. Gennifer left to be closer to work, but Riverdale was only a short ride away and she was there so often she might as well still lived around the corner. She continued up Fort Washington, pointing out her high school before making a right to head east. The eastern part of the neighborhood was still a little rough around the edges, but it would only be a matter of time before the spreading gentrification completely took over.

  She found parking around the corner from Big J's and Mikhail followed her out of the car. Mikhail slid his arm around her hips immediately, possessively, as if he wanted the whole neighborhood to know that they were fucking. She shot him a disapproving look, but he didn't give a shit, she could tell. It was cute that he felt the need to protect her on her own turf and she didn't move away from his touch. It felt strange to have someone at her side, but she was getting hip to it remarkably quickly. Her annoyance faded as she let herself relax, but she couldn't deny that she felt the eyes of the neighborhood on her, especially as they neared Big Jimmy's stoop. Aaron and Brandon, two of her younger foster brothers, were out front and Mikhail's presence had not escaped their notice.

  Brandon was one of the newer fosters, a Puerto Rican kid barely in his teens. Before Big Jimmy and Maria took him in, he'd been in and out of juvie a few times for his unfortunate habit of stealing. Now, Maria and Tate watched after him and made sure he took his meds. Aaron, already aged out of the foster system, was in college at NYU. As they neared, he smiled up at Gennifer knowingly, tapping the wheels of his chair.

  “Time for a trim,” Gennifer said as she and Mikhail reached the stoop. She raised her hand and mussed his hair and he lost his grin. He was very particular about his long hair, despite all of Maria's attempts to get him tidied up. “Just a little off the top.”

  “Fuck off,” he said, scowling and swatting at her. With a laugh, Gennifer made quick introductions, then pulled Mikhail up the wheelchair ramp that Big J had built over the stoop for Aaron. She pushed open the front door and immediately the scent and comfort of home washed over her. The house was full and bustling, as always. Yasmine and her boyfriend were hugged up on the couch, their eyes glued to the TV. Maria's best friend, Mrs. Gonzales from church, and her husband sat at the table, playing a lively game of cards with some other old folks.

  “Mamacita!” Gennifer called out as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, knowing she would find Maria there. Sure enough, the little Mexican lady was on her footstool next to the stove, wrapping tamales. Beside her, her shadow Tiny watched her, her bright eyes studying Maria's every move. Tiny was deaf and Maria was the only one who knew sign language, so the two were very close. Gennifer caught Tiny's eye and gave her a wave. Shy as always, Tiny ducked her head at the sight of Mikhail, letting her long micro-braids hide her dark face. Maria glanced up and widened her eyes at the sight of Mikhail.

  “Genny,” the little woman announced in broken English. “You no tell me when you bring a friend.”

  “I'm bringing a friend,” Gennifer announced, smart as ever. “His name is Mikhail.”

  “Mikhail,” Maria repeated, her eyes sweeping him from head to toe.

  “Very good to meet you,” he replied, laying the charm on thick. Gennifer suppressed a snort of laughter. Maria, however, lit up and smiled, easily charmed.

  “When is dinner ready?” Gennifer leaned over the stove, lifting pot lids and peering inside at the delicious contents.

  “You bother me,” Maria said, swatting her away good-naturedly. “Go outside. Jim loves to see you.” Gennifer could hear the boys out in the backyard and she groaned inwardly. She had been dreading this moment for weeks. The thought of admitting that she, Gennifer Rainbow Rodriguez, liked a man was almost enough to give her hives.

  She was a private person and rarely introduced her boyfriends to the family. But at some point, Mikhail had become a secret she didn't want to keep anymore. As much as it pained her, there was no time like the present. She threw a 'get ready' look back to Mikhail and pushed open the screen door to the small backyard. Hector, Tate, Big J and all the other men were outside, and as soon as Mikhail stepped out into the light, she could have heard a pin drop. All eyes were on them immediately.

  “You all know Mikhail,” Gennifer said, deciding that nonchalance was her best defense. She strolled to the cooler, pulling out two ice-cold Presidentes, watching as Mikhail shook Big Jimmy's hand like they'd never met before. Big J's smile faded a bit but he was polite, at least. Gennifer rolled her eyes, wondering why the whole thing had to be so awkward. She knew Big J still didn't approve of Mikhail training her, so he probably didn't approve of Mikhail dating her either. She caught Big J's eye and she could see all of the disapproval behind his gaze. But he was not a rude man by nature, and gradually, the conversation flowed again and Big J offered Mikhail a seat.

  “So it's like that?” Hector said in her ear and she jumped. She turned to look at him, rolling her eyes.

  “What's like what?”

  “He's your man?” Hector said, nodding toward Mikhail. Mikhail glanced up at her, his eyes dancing. He was enjoying this, she realized. What a weirdo.

  “Where's Erica?” Gennifer dodged, looked around the yard, not seeing the tall redhead and not expecting to. “You haven't brought her over to meet the fam yet?” Hector sucked his tongue and smiled, dimples flashing.

  “Tan molesto, G,” he said, taking her one of the beers out of her hand and taking a swig as he strolled off. She glanced down at Mikhail, who was seemingly intent on Big J, and before she realized what was happening, he yanked her hand and pulled her down onto his lap. She yelped and grabbed ahold of his shoulders before she lost her balance. She glanced, horrified, at Big J, but her father was talking to Mr. Bert, not paying her any mind.

  “Jerk,” she mumbled to Mikhail as he took the beer out of her hand, his eyes flicking to Hector's back. He took a gulp of the beer then handed it back to her.

  “Next time, we bring vodka,” he murmured, a smile back on his face before she'd barely even registered the jealousy behind his gaze.

  “Next time?” Gennifer said, melting into him the second he slid his arm around her hips, pulling her back against his chest. He nodded, burying his nose in her hair for a moment, then turned his attention to Big J, who was telling one of his old boxing stories that Gennifer had heard a million times. Gennifer let out a slow breath and took a sip of the beer, letting the butterflies flutter through her.

  The Russian didn't seem to get fazed by anything, she was realizing. Not her big, loud family. Not all the testosterone in the air. Not the fact that everybody was different from him and he barely spoke their language. He could have been any one of them. He would fit right in, she realized. The only question was if she was ready for all of that. It was a question with no immediate answer. However, the longer she sat there on his lap, sharing a beer with him while he laughed at Big J's jokes, the less it seemed like a question. If she was going to fall in love with Mikhail Ivanhof, it was going to be completely without her permission and completely out of her control.

  ***

  Mikhail stood by the side of Big J's house as the sun went down, watching Gennifer spinning in her bare feet and shaking her hips to a song that he didn't understand the words to. A younger girl danced beside her in short shorts and a halter top, their movements in sync. A cheer went up amongst the family as Big J's wife jumped into the mix, drag
ging her husband in as well. They raised their hands and clapped along to the beat indiscriminately. He had no idea what dance they were doing, but he was enjoying watching. Big J was surprisingly nimble on his feet for a man so large, Mikhail noticed. Gennifer tossed a look Mikhail's way, brown eyes flashing in the light of the dozens of strings of multicolored bulbs that decorated the patio. He knew she shook her ass just for him, and he could hear her calling out to him, just as clearly as if she'd spoken aloud.

  Come and get it.

  He had every intention of getting it and keeping it, that was for damn sure.

  His eyes traveled the length of her long legs, adorned in tight blue jeans, and back up, to the slinky red top that barely contained her tits. Her hair was free and curly, crashing over her shoulders and down her back like a wave. She stood up on her tiptoes, doing a little shimmy that had his jaw clenching with restraint. He watched her, as passively as possible, not wanting to embarrass her in front of her family by throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her back to the car. He was content knowing that later on, when they were alone, she would be on her knees just for him.

  The party fluctuated in size as the night went on, people coming and going at their leisure. More people arrived than left, Mikhail noticed after awhile. Guests spilled outside into the cool night, balancing plates of food and bottles of beer in their hands. Tate, the hulking man Mikhail had seen before at House of Pain, stood beside him in companionable silence, nursing a beer. The kid in the wheelchair that Gennifer had introduced as Aaron sat to their left, smoking a joint and bobbing his head to the beat of the music.

  Hector stepped onto the makeshift dance floor, throwing his arm around the younger girl's waist and spinning her around. She squealed out a laugh and let loose a stream of Spanish in response. Gennifer laughed along as more people followed Hector into the dance.

  “Maria keeps trying to teach me how to dance,” Tate said, his voice a low grumble. “No rhythm.”

  “You're too white, Tate,” Aaron piped up and took another drag. He drummed his hand on the wheel of his chair to the rhythm. Mikhail dropped his eyes to the space where Aaron's lower legs should have been. Hardship was nothing new to a Russian, but losing two legs at such a young age was shitty in any language.

  “You realize that shit's still illegal, right?” Tate asked, raising an eyebrow as Aaron puffed away.

  “So arrest me,” Aaron said, a stream of smoke escaping from his lips.

  “One of these days, pendejo,” Tate responded, smiling. Mikhail dragged his eyes back to Gennifer and something squeezed in his chest at the sight of her leaning close to Hector and saying something in his ear. Hector smiled back, draping his arm over Gennifer's shoulders. The need to smash his fist into Hector's face reared up, but Mikhail simply flexed his hand to remove the urge. His upbringing demanded that he kick the motherfucker's ass for touching his woman, but he was not stupid, nor was he as recklessly violent as he had been in the past. He was in Gennifer's world and she was good friends with Hector, whether he liked it or not. But he didn't like the way Hector looked at his woman. Not at all.

  “Ay fiesta, Donte esta aqui,” a voice shouted above the music, and beside Mikhail, Tate let out a sigh.

  “Shithead,” he muttered, as the zhopa Mikhail recognized from the gym strolled around the side of the house, a girl in a skin-tight hot pink minidress at his side. Donny pushed through the crowd, dragging the girl behind him. He planted a kiss on Maria's upturned cheek and she smiled up at him. Maria seemed to be the only one who looked happy to see him. Donny took her hand and twirled her around, and she laughed, her voice carrying across the yard. When she pushed him away, he pulled his girl into the dance. Mikhail flicked his eyes to Gennifer. She scowled and turned her back on Donny immediately, already making her way off the dance floor.

  Mikhail wondered briefly why his solnyshka hated the zhopa so much, but the thought barely had a moment to form before Donny reached out and grabbed Gennifer around the waist, pulling her back against him. Gennifer threw her elbow back to try and get out of his grasp, but Donny held fast, pressing his lips to her ear and whispering something that caused her eyes to widen in anger. Mikhail didn't think, he just moved silently through the crowd, reaching them in less than a minute. The urge for violence flared up his spine again, hot and quick. This time, he didn't bother tamping it down.

  Gennifer was about five seconds from beating the zhopa's brains in when Mikhail slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. Donny tightened his arm, trying to hold onto her, but Mikhail was faster. He brought his face close to Donny's, wanting to make sure the zhopa got his point, loud and clear.

  “Do not touch her,” he said simply. Rage rippled over Donny's face and he opened his mouth to reply. Mikhail didn't give him a chance. He stepped closer and shoulder-checked him, pushing him away from Gennifer. Then Mikhail took a step back, Gennifer at his side. The party went on around them, barely anyone noticing their little scuffle. Donny glanced to his right and his girl was staring at him wide-eyed. On his left, Hector was watching both of them, his stance stiff like he was ready to jump in and stop whatever was going to go down.

  Donny relaxed and smiled disarmingly, white teeth flashing, like nothing had happened. Gennifer abruptly turned and wove her way through the guests toward the house. Mikhail let her go, his eyes never leaving Donny's face.

  “Fuck you, motherfucker,” Donny said, his face still friendly. Mikhail didn't say anything because he didn't have to. His whole body was tight, waiting for a fight. Praying for it. But Mikhail simply stared at the zhopa until he looked away. Rolling his shoulders to release his tension, he pivoted on his heel and followed Gennifer without another word. When he stepped in the house, the little dark-skinned girl he'd seen in the kitchen earlier was sitting cross-legged on the counter. She dropped her eyes to the floor and pointed him toward the living room. He followed her instruction, heading through the dark house. The music from the backyard echoing through the rooms as he looked for Gennifer. He caught a glimpse of her legs, jogging up the stairs and he leaned on the banister, cocking his head to watch her. She stopped at the top step, turning her head and catching his eye.

  Then she crooked her finger, beckoning him to follow her.

  He felt a smile cross his lips and he did what she wanted, ascending the dark staircase after her. He blinked at the top, his eyes adjusting to the darkness just as he felt her fingers encircle his wrist.

  “Come here,” he heard her whisper roughly in his ear. He let her pull him into a room and she closed the door behind them. She threw her arms around his neck and he crushed his mouth over hers, kissing her hard. His craving for violence was diluted as lust rushed through his veins. Gennifer moaned into him, like she could feel exactly what he was feeling.

  “I will fucking kill him if he touches you again,” he whispered against her lips.

  “I'll kill him myself,” she murmured, darting her tongue out to tease him. She slid one of her knees between his, pushing his back against the door. “But thanks for the offer.” He hissed out a laugh at her tough words, clenching his hand in her hair and thrusting his tongue in her mouth. She flattened herself against him and for a few long moments, Mikhail couldn't think about anything but stripping her naked and getting inside of her, as fast as possible. Her body was his weakness and he tweaked her nipple beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. She pulled away, gasping for air. She dropped her hands to his belt and he banged the back of his head against the door, trying to clear the fog from his brain.

  Not wasting any time, she buried her face in his neck, trailing tiny bites across his skin. He yanked her bra strap down her arm, dragging his tongue across the curve of her shoulder as she hugged him tighter against her. When she sucked his earlobe into her mouth, he closed his eyes as his chest constricted, making breathing difficult.

  He was not going to fuck her in her parents' house, but she was making it hard for him to resist.

  She licke
d her palm and took his erection in her hand before he could tell her to stop. She stroked him lightly, her thumb rubbing all over the sensitive head of his cock.

  “Misha,” she whispered, her voice soft in his ear. A shudder went through him at the sound of his nickname on her tongue. “I think I like it when you're possessive.”

  “Good,” he said, because he couldn't stop being possessive over her even if wanted to. He wanted her too much. He couldn't imagine losing her, especially to another man. The thought made him crazy. She jerked his cock hard and he growled into her.

  “I'm going to take you home and do dirty things to you.” She ran her tongue down his cheek as her hand worked his cock hard and then slow, teasing him like she always did.

  “How far away?” he said, clenching his jaw in restraint.

  “Twenty minutes,” she said, pressing a trail of kisses down his neck. “If we leave now.”

  “Then we go,” he said, bucking his hips into her grasp. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the pleasure. She stroked him once more, but then he took her wrist and forced her hand away from his cock. She whimpered, a lovely little sound that had his cock jerking in response. Ignoring his lust, he slid his throbbing erection gingerly back into his pants. She dragged her fingers down his chest, gnawing on her lower lip, like she didn't want to wait. He smiled, loving that he had the same effect on her that she had on him. Scrubbing his hands down his face, he glanced around the room, lit only with a solitary lamp in the corner.

  “Your room?” he asked, noticing the bunk beds along the walls covered in pink ruffled comforters and the dolls and stuffed animals shoved here and there.

  “It was,” she replied with a smile. “It's Tiny and Yasmine's, now.”

  “I am not the first boy you bring to your room?” He raised an eyebrow and she shook her head mysteriously.