“Having fun?” I heard a voice say next to me, startling me into complete sobriety. I turned quickly in the direction the voice came from and saw a man standing there. His arms were crossed on his chest. He was wearing dark jeans, a tight fitting white t-shirt and a pair of boots. He was just under six feet, stocky with big arms and a wide chest. His chest from where I was standing looked hard, imposing even. Tommy had worked out religiously, but he didn’t look like this man. Far from it. As the stranger stepped from the shadows, I marveled at how thick his neck was, how his thighs were probably twice the size of my own and I studied his muscular forearms that sported a web of tattoos. He looked dangerous, but yet I wanted to touch him. I wanted to get close enough to trace the outline of his biceps that were clearly pressed against his shirt, biceps that were the size of my thighs. I wondered how those arms would feel wrapped around me and I wanted to know how my breasts would feel pressed against his chest.
I shook my head, not knowing where those thoughts were coming from. Apparently, I’d had way too much to drink and my hormones were running away with me. Too many years in a passionless marriage, I thought sourly to myself.
I looked him up and down, blatantly checking him out and said succinctly, “I thought I was alone.”
“Not quite.”
I continued to study him and he studied me. I saw his eyes linger on my exposed skin and when he looked away and back up at me, I saw a hint of lust there. So I was still sexy after all? I smiled a little to myself. Feeling emboldened I said, “Plan to head back inside soon? If so, can I get you a drink?”
He looked surprised. “I thought as the guy, I should be asking you instead.”
“It’s 2015. We women have to go after what we want.”
He seemed amused as he considered my words, “And I have something you want?”
“Maybe. We’ll see.” I wondered briefly what Tommy would think hearing me come on to a complete stranger.
For a moment the stranger didn’t say a word and his lips tilted up in the corners as he appraised me. I guess he had been expecting a different conversation. I knew I looked innocent and sweet. I had the stereotypical angelic look with a heart shaped face, big green eyes, small nose and my hair was a flurry of inky black ringlets that grew past my shoulders. But tonight, upon seeing this man, I was suddenly feeling anything but angelic. I was interested in taking Jacinda’s advice. I was ready to do something reckless. And frankly, between the alcohol that made me feel brave and the feeling that everyone else in the world was having fun but me, I was interested in burying some of my frustration and stress the good old-fashioned way, in bad behavior and a few more drinks, accompanied by a very sexy man.
“So what do you say?” I asked breaking the silence that was now stretching uncomfortably long.
“I’ll take a beer.”
“And after?” I left the question open-ended.
“We’ll figure out the rest.” I was more than very interested in “the rest.”
Chapter Two
“You’re on. I’m Bree.” I said not offering my hand, but smiling at him in what I hoped was a seductive way.
“Bree,” he said my name slowly as if tasting it on his tongue. “I’m Phoenix.”
He followed me back inside the loud nightclub and I headed to the bar and ordered us a couple of beers. I added a little extra sway to my hips as I walked, hoping he would notice. I glanced subtly behind me as he followed me to an unoccupied corner. He was looking at my behind and I smiled a little to myself as I turned back around quickly not wanting him to know I had caught him checking me out. He joined me in the corner of the nightclub and we settled on a bench, overlooking the dance floor. Jacinda caught sight of me and winked. She was spinning around the dance floor with Ashley and a few other random guys, apparently the center of attention.
“Friends of yours?” he asked bringing up one of his legs and placing his arm across his knee as he turned completely towards me.
“Best friend in fact. The one wearing the crown is getting married tomorrow so we came out to celebrate.”
“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before.”
“I’m not exactly the clubbing type...”
“What type are you then?”
I shrugged thinking about it before I replied, “Hmm...the reading type.”
He smiled brightly then and I realized that his smile was just as beautiful as the rest of him.
“So what were you doing outside all on your lonesome?” I asked him, making idle conversation as I slid closer to him.
“Honestly? Avoiding a girl I used to date. She’s a nutjob.”
I giggled, actually giggled. The alcohol was going straight to my brain. “Is she actually crazy or is that something guys say about exes when the relationship ends badly?”
“She’s nuts. Out of her mind, but I heard she was getting remarried. I figured she showed up here to show me her ring.”
“And you responded by hiding?”
He shrugged sheepishly, “You women are insane.”
“Hard to believe a strong man like you is afraid of some woman.”
“I fight for a living, but when my ex is involved I run the other way like a coward. I’m not ashamed to admit that.”
I felt myself relaxing at his self-deprecating humor. “Tell me more about this fighting thing.”
“Have you ever heard of MMA?”
“Those people on the pay-per-view channel who beat each other into a bloody pulp? Not my idea of viewing pleasure. It’s worse than boxing,” I shuddered and took a drink from my beer.
“Well, it’s how I earn a living.”
I grimaced, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to criticize.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m not offended.”
“So you’re a fighter? Is that what all your tattoos are about?” I said leaning over to study them as best as I could in the light.
“Not really. I just wanted to look cool.”
I looked at him sharply, knowing from his tone he was joking, “You’re not funny.”
“Really? I’ve already made you laugh twice.”
“It’s the beer. I’m normally not so easily amused.”
“Then drink up. I’m about to become hilarious.”
I couldn’t help but smile and as I took another sip and I trailed my hand up his arm, boldly tracing the length of one of his tattoos. I shifted to get a better view, but actually I wanted to get closer to him and I figured he knew it.
“Do you have any tattoos anywhere else?” I asked, leaning in taking a cue from Ashley earlier, letting my breasts graze his arm.
“Maybe. Do you want to find out?” Before I could respond, he brought his hand up and buried it into my hair and pulled my face to his, bringing his mouth down hard on mine. I eagerly responded, groaning as he roughly picked me up and settled me onto his lap. His mouth was warm across my lips and I didn’t realize until that moment how much my marriage had lacked in sexual chemistry. How much it had lacked that energy, that fire that the past few minutes with Phoenix had ignited.
I wanted a little privacy before things became a bit too hot and heavy and I said so to him. He agreed and took my hand, pulling me towards the door. We didn’t make it that far, as he started kissing me against the wall of the alley where we had only just met minutes ago.
He pushed me up against the wall, grabbed my behind in his big hands and brought my legs up so that they wrapped around his waist. My back was against the wall as he easily unbuttoned my pants and shoved his hand inside them, giving a dry chuckle when he realized that I wasn’t wearing any panties.
“I hate underwear,” I said by way of explanation and he kissed me hard saying, “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
All talking ceased though as he pushed his fingers inside of me. I was already wet and I moaned as he fingered me, roughly handling me, thrusting his fingers into my wetness recklessly, clearly not really caring if it hurt or not. I liked that about
our encounter. It was wild, free and untamed. There weren’t any rules and I wanted to keep it that way. I clawed at his back, already on the brink of orgasm, gasping as he started to play with my clit.
“Have you ever been fucked in an alley before?” He said against my ear as he continued to penetrate me.
“No,” I gasped and then he abruptly stopped, pulled his fingers out of my sex and dropped me to my feet.
I looked at him confused.
“Turn around.” I hesitantly did as he said and he pushed my pants down my hips, letting them fall around my ankles. I placed my hands against the brick wall of the alley and felt his hands between my legs, “Spread your legs wider. I’m going to fuck you.”
My whole body shook at the crudeness of his language. It made me feel dirty and naughty as if I were doing something illicit and forbidden. I looked around not wanting to get caught, but the idea of getting caught actually was half the turn on.
“Bend over,” he said hoarsely and I did.
He grabbed me by my hips then and I could feel his sex, wet at the tip, poking at my own wetness. He slid just the tip of his penis in and I reacted instantly, pushing my hips back towards him, wanting more.
“You want my dick inside you, Bree?”
“Yessss” I moaned, exaggerating the word as my sex clenched in anticipation of his own.
“How much?” He said pushing himself in just a little more. I half groaned and half moaned in frustration and then pleasure.
“All of it. Please, Phoenix. All of it.”
“I like it when you beg. Say it again. Say please.”
Readily I complied, wanting him to continue his exquisite torture, “Please, Phoenix.”
“That’s a good girl.”
And then he pushed his cock in and fucked me hard and rough in the alley. I grabbed at the stone wall, burying my nails in the ridges of the wall, trying to control the volume of my groans as he pushed into me. His dick was large and thick and he didn’t wait for my sex to conform to his size, he just forced it in to the point where pleasure and pain mixed.
He let go of my hips and grabbed my ass, pulling my cheeks apart and caressing them, as his thrusts became even wilder. I came then as he trailed his fingers across my behind and started to stroke my clit.
I felt my sex clench around his dick and he groaned as well, thrust a few more times and then came inside me, gasping as he too grabbed the wall to steady himself. Slowly when my breathing returned to normal, so did reality and I was painfully aware that I was bent over in an alley with my pants around my ankles having just been fucked by a stranger.
That stranger was now helping me pull my pants back up and suddenly after our encounter, I was painfully embarrassed. I hadn’t had casual sex before in my life. Tommy had been the only man I’d been with. What was I thinking?
I righted my clothes and said, “I have to go.” He looked confused and seemed about to speak, but I didn’t give him the opportunity. I walked away quickly, not looking back. He didn’t try to stop me. And as I disappeared through the doors, I was determined to forget that night and that man no matter how conflicted I felt that he had, without protest, just let me go.
Chapter Three
It had been two months since my little incident in the alley and just thinking about it, which admittedly I did often, still caused me to feel embarrassed and if I were honest with myself, aroused beyond reason.
Jacinda was still on an extended honeymoon so I had no one to talk to about why I had spent the past week pretty much hiding in my apartment. I’d heard of the walk of shame before but clearly it hadn’t ever happened to me given that up to the moment I’d had sex with Phoenix, Tommy had been the only man I’d been intimate with. And there lied the problem. I’d discovered a week ago that Phoenix was officially my new neighbor, so just the fear of walking out of my own door and running into him filled me with shame. I’d been brazen the night we met, but in the light of day I was still a recent divorcee with a chip on her shoulder.
I’d found out about Phoenix by accident after coming home late one night from class. I had been trying to juggle fries and a drink in one hand while balancing my books in another when I literally bumped into him. I had stared at him, my mouth wide open not knowing what to say to him.
“What are you doing here?” I had demanded when I finally got my thoughts together and could speak.
He had smiled sexily at me and just said, “Hi to you too.” He was wearing all black this time: black sweat pants, with an undershirt that was partially covered by a black hoodie. I could see his chest clearly as the undershirt did little to hide it from view. Apparently his muscular chest was too big to be contained under the thin cotton fabric.
With effort, I tore my eyes off his chest and marched away from him, determined to pretend he wasn’t there. He had simply crossed his arms and rested his back against the wall next to me, staring at me in amusement.
“I guess if I ever need to borrow sugar or something, I shouldn’t ask you.” I continued to ignore him, inserted the key in the lock, opened my door and entered, quickly closing it behind me.
“Is that anyway to treat your neighbor?” he called through the door.
I hadn’t answered him obviously and he had eventually gone away. Needless to say, whenever I had to leave my apartment, I looked through the peep-hole and then scuttled like a mouse to the parking lot.
I’d kept that up for a week, but as fate would have it, I was again coming home from a late night of classes when I could hear arguing in the hall near my door. The closer I got the more ominous the voices sounded. I was a little apprehensive when I turned the corner and saw Phoenix’s door open. He was standing there seemingly unfazed by all the commotion the other two men were causing. Their presence alone was threatening, in my opinion, let alone their words. They were covered with tattoos as well, similar to the tattoos Phoenix sported. One guy was at least 6’6, seeming giant when standing next to Phoenix who was barely six feet. He took a threatening step towards Phoenix and before I could say a word, I watched Phoenix punch the man in his gut in a lightning fast move. The tall man grabbed his stomach, stumbling backwards and the other man, with long dreadlocks, leaped forward tackling Phoenix to the ground.
I screamed as Phoenix hit the ground. This caught the attention of the man Phoenix had punched in the stomach earlier. He looked at me nervously and yelled, “Come on, man. Let’s get out of here.”
But by then Phoenix was in an all-out brawl with the dreadlocks guy and it didn’t seem to be ending soon. Phoenix surprised me as he tossed the dreadlocks dude off of him, as if he weighed nothing at all and then placed his knee in the man’s chest and began to punch him viciously in the face. He was merciless as the other man scrambled to get from underneath Phoenix while gripping his hands against his face trying to protect it.
The tall guy launched himself at Phoenix and dragged him off the other dude, trapping Phoenix in a chokehold. Phoenix leaned forward and as if the guy didn’t weigh a pound he flipped him over and he landed on top of the other guy with thud.
“Get out of here before I kill you both. There aren’t rules here to stop me,” Phoenix said quietly, breathing heavily. The men stared him down, but slowly got up and limped away.
“Send my regards to Marquez,” Phoenix said softly. He then turned to me where I stood frozen, unable to speak or contemplate what I had just seen. The vision of Phoenix’s lower lip bleeding woke me up from my state of shock and I instinctively walked towards him and reached out to touch his face.
“You’re bleeding” I said, my hands trembling.
He brought his hand up to his mouth. “Yeah, that sucks.” He then turned away from me and winced. “I think Rocco might have gotten in a lucky punch,” he said rubbing his side.
I studied him, taking his chin in my hand and turning it in different directions. “I think you should clean up that cut. It’s split your bottom lip in half.”
“Thanks for your concern.” He t
urned away and walked the few feet to his apartment door. I called out, “Hey, you’re just going to walk away without explaining what all that was about?”
“Yeah.”
I followed him to his apartment door and he didn’t seem to have a problem with it, so I walked in and gave his sparsely decorated apartment a cursory glance.
“Nice.”
He shrugged at my sarcastic tone, “You invited yourself in so keep your judgment to yourself.”
“Who were those guys?” I asked ignoring the fact that I was invading his space uninvited.
“Care to close the door? You know? Just in case they come back?”
Sheepishly, I did. He took a dry dish towel and wrapped ice in it and pressed it against his lip.
“Are you going to answer my question now? Are you a criminal or something?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Well only ex-cons or criminals get beat up in hallways.”
“Is that right? Are you an expert on the subject or something?”
I placed my hand on my hip. “Yeah, I like to think so at least.” I then rolled my eyes at him and said, “Stop being cute and answer my questions.”
“Remember how I told you that I’m an MMA fighter?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I wasn’t always one. I actually got most of my skills from street fighting. No rules. Illegal spur of the moment fights. The pay was good and it was the outlet I needed at the time. I worked for one particular guy, Marquez Jackson, for a while. That worked out. I kind of saw him as a mentor. And then one day I was fighting some dude named Vic who decided he wasn’t going to lose so he pulled a knife on me and proceeded to carve me up.”
I grimaced at the image and felt sick when Phoenix raised his shirt. The scars that covered his lower abdomen made me sick just looking at them.
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