Below the Belt

by Sidney Halston

  “Thank you!” She laughed. “You do too. Miami suits you.”

  He leaned closer. “No, darling, Chris suits me!” He held his hands out to show a measurement and winked.

  —

  Tony paid for their drinks and turned around. A tall slender man with long hair tied back had his hands on Francesca’s shoulders. She laughed as the man leaned in and whispered something in her ear before winking. He grabbed Francesca’s phone and typed something into it, then kissed her cheek and walked away. Tony felt a surge of anger the likes of which he’d never experienced before. Yes, she hated his temper, but damn it, he was in love with her. He’d told her that, and she’d run away. He respected that and was giving her time, but there was no way he could accept her openly flirting with another man right in front of his face.

  Tony came back and handed her the wine. The music was pounding and there were a lot of people moving to the beat. He seemed so distant, and she wasn’t sure exactly what the correct thing to say was, but she had to say something. Maybe she had to be the bigger person and apologize.

  “Tony…” She reached for his hand in order to get his attention and brought her lips close to his ear so he could hear her. “In the restaurant, was the Rodrigo comment what pissed you off?”

  He didn’t answer. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in. The music was loud and she wanted to make sure he heard her apology. “I’m sorry for mentioning Rodrigo. I didn’t say it to upset you. And I’m sorry for talking work while we were having a nice evening out. I’m always telling you we shouldn’t mix business and pleasure, and there I was talking about work. Not that we’re, you know, together,” she stammered. She wasn’t sure if he was over her, and maybe she’d overstepped.

  She thought he was going to say something sweet in response and then everything would be back to normal. Instead, he said into her ear, “You want to keep business and pleasure separate? Then don’t fucking get in my business again.” He tipped his head up and swallowed the rest of his drink. She was so surprised, she actually took a step back. He had a terrible temper, and they’d argued—a lot. But she’d never been on the receiving end of a raging mad Tony. At that moment a woman came by and blatantly flirted with Tony. He smiled at her before glancing over at Francesca.

  “Hey, you’re Scarface!” the woman squealed.

  “I am.”

  “Aren’t you Jimmy’s cousin? He talks about you all the time. He’s right back there. I’m here with him,” the brunette said, pointing behind her.

  “Oh, damn. I haven’t seen him in years. Give me a second. Meet you there.” He turned to the bar and ordered himself another drink, completely ignoring Francesca. He took the drink and then, without a glance at Francesca, headed off to see his cousin. Or was it to see the brunette? Who the hell knew, but she wasn’t going to sit there and wait to find out.

  She put a hand on his arm to stop him. “I’m tired, Tony. I want to go home. And you really need to stop drinking. You have to be at the gym by eight in the morning.”

  “I’m not leaving yet.” He gulped down his drink.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Cain’ll be pissed if you’re too hungover to train.”

  “Stop telling me what to do.”

  “Fine. I’m leaving.” She turned around, but before she could move, he grabbed her forearm, spun her around, and crashed his lips to hers. It was rough, too rough. His hand skimmed the side of her body before ending on her ass. When he released her, he took her palm and slapped a fifty-dollar bill in it. Her eyes were questioning. “For the cab.” He turned and left her standing there, completely shocked. She looked around and saw people staring. Tony, a well-known fighter from the area, had just mauled her in front of a bunch of people and then handed her money. He’d made her look like some kind of paid whore. She was fuming when she walked out and hailed a cab.

  —

  Cain was in the kitchen when she came in. He gave her his usual chin lift.

  “Hi,” she responded as she poured herself a glass of water.

  “You okay?”

  “Tony’s a dick. But yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Where is he?”

  She lifted her shoulders and then dropped them.

  “How’d you get home?” he asked.

  “Cab.”

  Cain looked at his watch. “At three in the morning? Alone?”

  “I can take care of myself.” She put her glass in the sink. “Goodnight.”

  —

  A commotion woke her up. It was almost nine in the morning, but she’d had a restless night and it was early morning when she’d finally found sleep. Quickly she wrapped a cotton robe around herself and walked downstairs.

  Tony was stumbling off the couch to the kitchen. He filled a large glass of water and took out some aspirin.

  Once he’d swallowed it all, he glanced around and found Francesca’s eyes. He looked down in shame.

  Cain walked in before anything was said. “You’re late.” He took a good look at the fighter. “And you’re hungover.”

  Tony snorted. “No. Probably still drunk.”

  “Nice,” Cain said with a scowl. His face didn’t show any signs of amusement. “She took a taxi.” He pointed to Francesca.

  Francesca took a step toward him. “Cain, don’t—”

  He put his hand in front of Francesca and cut her off. “Not talking to you.” He turned to Tony. “You have twenty minutes and then we leave for the gym.” He took another step toward the other man. “Three in the morning. She took a taxi.”

  Tony’s shoulders slumped, but Cain continued. “I don’t care what happened. I don’t care whether she’s your woman or not. You always take a woman home. That’s fucked up.” He jabbed his finger into Tony’s shoulder, then left.

  “Francesca,” Tony whispered, and moved toward her.

  “It’s fine, Tony.” She sidestepped him. “Just go. Cain’s waiting.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Francesca turned and went back up the stairs. She slept most of the day and didn’t see either Cain or Tony that evening.

  The next morning when she woke up, she was still mad about what had happened with Tony, but more than anger, she felt sadness. She dressed quickly and went downstairs, expecting to see him. But the house was quiet, so instead of sitting around she decided to go for a jog.

  By the time she’d finished her jog, she expected Tony to be home, but the house was still empty. She took a moment to look at the place in the daylight. It was the biggest, ugliest house she’d ever seen. It looked like a giant microwave. By the look of the houses around the neighborhood, this was an expensive area, but while all the other homes looked as if they belonged in an old beautiful Spanish village, Tony’s looked out of place. It was modern and white, a straight-lined box. She hated it.

  She went inside and up to her room to continue her workout. An hour later she was startled by a voice behind her.

  “What are you doing?” Tony was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, his head tilted downward, and his brow furrowed.

  Francesca was doing a handstand. As soon as she heard him, she pushed her legs down and came upright again. Her cheeks were pink from the flow of blood down to her head, and her ponytail was askew.

  “A handstand,” she said matter-of-factly. She was breathing erratically, her chest rising and falling as she fussed with her ponytail. He pushed off the wall and strode toward her. She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. You don’t owe me anything, least of all an explanation.”

  He took a step forward, but she sidestepped him.

  “I don’t like seeing you with men,” he blurted out.

  “Okay.” She looked at him quizzically.

  “I can’t help the jealousy. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The guy at the club. You were all giggly and touchy with
some guy, and I got jealous, and I’m sorry. We may not be together, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

  “Justin?”

  “Stupid name.”

  “Real mature.” She snorted. “Justin’s gay. He’s dating the owner of the club. He’s an old friend I haven’t seen in years.”

  Tony’s demeanor seemed to shift slightly. “Gay?”

  “Yeah, gay. As in not interested in me. Not that I’d be interested in him even if he weren’t gay. You shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

  “It doesn’t change anything.”

  “Uh, yeah, it kind of does. It shows that you had nothing to worry about.”

  “He has a dick and balls. I don’t want him talking to you.”

  She looked at him as if he was crazy—and maybe he was. “You don’t want me to talk to him? Are you insane?”

  “I hate you talking to the guys at the Academy, the waiters in restaurants, the guys who change your oil at the garage. Everyone with a cock. I hate them talking to you. That’s what you do to me! I don’t want you alone with any man. Ever. No one. Not a single fucking man. I don’t care if he’s gay or not. They all want to fuck you. There, I said it.”

  She had to laugh. “You know that’s crazy, right?”

  “I know!” he yelled in frustration, his hands flailing over his head.

  “I would never cheat on you. If you and I were together, I wouldn’t cheat on you. You’ve got to trust me.”

  He groaned and pulled at his hair as he paced around the room. “Well, you’ve got to let me love you. That’s all I want. Just let me fucking love you, Francesca!”

  She threw her own arms up, just as frustrated as he. “I do want you to love me! And I want to love you!” she yelled back.

  They both fell silent and stared at each other, breathing heavily.

  She finally spoke first. “I can’t be with someone who flies off the handle when any man approaches me. Jesus, Tony, I work with men all day.”

  “I swear to you that I will try to control my temper and my jealousy. I promise you. Be patient with me, mi amor.”

  She was quiet for a few moments. “Be patient with me too,” she finally said softly. It was all she said, but she knew he understood what she meant. She needed to come to terms with the fact that she was in love with him, and he needed to be patient and let her figure it out. “I missed you so much,” she admitted.

  “Can I kiss you?” he asked. When she nodded, he put his hands on the sides of her neck and his lips connected with hers. It had been too long. When she tasted him, when his tongue darted out and she melted into him, she knew they’d find a way to work things out.

  He pulled away first. “I missed you too.”

  “I want to try. Let’s try.”

  “Thank fuck!” he yelled at the ceiling, making her laugh. “So, a handstand, huh?”

  “Yep. You want to work out with me?” she asked.

  “Here in the room?”

  “Sure. I like to keep up my skills.”

  “Handstand skills?”

  “Jiu jitsu skills. I like to keep up my strength training and flexibility. Plus I had a lot of energy to burn off today.”

  “You are very flexible. You know, I can help with that burning-off-energy stuff. It’s been too long since I touched you.”

  Nothing registered with her except his glistening lips and his heated expression.

  Except she still needed to explain a few important things. He needed to know that there was a line between the bedroom and the gym. A very real, very visible line that had to stay in place no matter what happened between them.

  “One more thing, Tony.”

  “What is it?”

  “If we’re going to try to be together again, and if this thing is going to work, then you need to respect me. Professionally, you need to listen to what I tell you and trust that I’m telling you for the good of the gym and for you.”

  “I thought about that these past few weeks. In the gym, when we’re training, you’re the boss. You can be in charge. Outside of the gym, I’m in charge. That’s what you need. It’s what I need.”

  “What? That’s what I need?” She rolled her eyes.

  “To everyone else you are a confident, take-charge kind of woman, but I know you like it when I take charge.”

  “No, I—”

  He could tell she was starting to get upset. “Yes, you do. You want it and you’ll love it. It’s what you need. Trust me. Trust that I’m not going to hurt you. But you need me to kiss you. That’s what you need.”

  Before she realized what he meant, he stepped to her side, wrapped one arm around her waist, and gently dropped her flat on her back. “Took me two seconds to get you on your back. You need to really practice those skills of yours, mi amor. You see, I don’t need that much help. If I can take the great Francesca Silva down, I don’t need to worry about anything.” He was still standing, his feet on either side of her knees. She looked up at the cocky bastard. Maybe he needed an actual hands-on lesson.

  Quickly she grabbed his right ankle with her left hand and elevated her hips enough so that when she moved her left leg in between his parted legs, her thighs squeezed in a quick scissor movement, causing his right leg to be swept down to the floor. Unlike his takedown, her method was not gentle and his body landed on the marble floor with a big thump. As soon as he realized what had happened, Tony turned his gaze toward a very satisfied Francesca, who was lying on her side, holding her head up with her palm, a big smirk on her face.

  “Ha ha,” Tony said. “I’m going to wipe that smirk right off your face.”

  “Like to see you tr—” Before she could finish the statement, he rolled over and tried to straddle her. But as soon as his butt touched her midsection, she swiftly grabbed his left ankle with both of her hands. Again she tilted her hips up and flipped him over onto his back in one swift movement. Tony was so surprised, he didn’t have a chance to react until he felt a sharp pain on his left thigh from her right elbow pushing into it. Before he could move she was straddling him.

  “Whoa!” He reached for her waist. “Okay, fine. You know a thing or two.”

  She looked down and scowled at him, swatting his chest. “You’re getting better. You have two months before the fight. Can you admit you need help?”

  “Right now I’ll admit to just about anything.”

  He flipped them over and she was on her back again, her hands pinned down. “I’ve missed you so much,” he confessed. “I need to touch you.”

  She just closed her eyes.

  “I don’t want to lose control ever again,” she admitted.

  He looked down at her. “Did you lose control when we were apart?”

  “I was sad, but I survived. I didn’t think I would, but I did.”

  “See? You’re strong. You will always survive.” He lifted her shirt and pointed to her tattoo. “You can be sad and still be okay. I won’t hurt you. I promise you that.”

  “Why do you want me, Tony? You can have any woman out there, and you pick the one who’s so messed up that she’s scared to fall in love because it could break her if you left. So fucked up that she can’t physically say the l-word. Why me? You have your shit together. You don’t need me to come in and cause all this drama.”

  “I have my shit together?” He laughed humorlessly. “I’m scared of failing and of my career coming to an end in a knockout. Of being humiliated. I’m scared to tell you that I want to retire after the next fight because you’ll probably never want to see me again. I’m scared to talk to you about the future and you running away. I’m a mess too. But don’t you see we’re better together than apart?”

  “I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to fight if your heart isn’t in it anymore. If you want to retire, I’m fine with that. Hell, I’ll throw you a party if that’s what makes you happy. I don’t understand why you’d be scared to talk to me about the future.”

  “Because the future is you. It’s you by my s
ide, as my wife. My future is you and kids and four ridiculously named cats, but you have to love me first. And that scares the shit out of me. You can’t even admit you like me.”

  She laughed. “I am completely and utterly in like with you, Tony.”

  “Well, shit. That’s something.” He smiled and gave her a kiss. “We’re finally getting somewhere.”

  “Tony?”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to love you.”

  “I know, mi amor. You’ll get there.”

  Francesca flipped them over again and straddled Tony’s thick thighs. He cupped her ass and pulled her closer to him. Her fingers pushed through his hair, but Tony reached up and untangled them as he brought her down against his body and kissed her. His tongue was frenzied in her mouth and the low rumble of his groan was making her crazy. He placed her hand behind his neck, but she wanted her hands everywhere. She couldn’t get enough of this man. He was hot…and quite frankly it had been a long time. Unsure what possessed her to act so brazenly, she began to pull at his shirt, but he held both her hands with one of his. It was a power struggle. He just continued to kiss her, his free hand roaming her ass. He nipped and sucked her bottom lip.

  “Tony…”

  He didn’t say anything. Didn’t speed it up. She needed more and she needed it now. She tried to pull her hands out of his grip, but he wasn’t letting go. She pulled harder, and he gripped tighter as his tongue made love to hers. It was a fight for control, and he was showing her up.

  He said against her lips, “You going to keep fighting?”

  He sat up, never separating his mouth from hers, his grip firmly around her. She snaked her arms between his and used her elbows to force his arms apart. And then she took the lead. She heard a low growl, but she didn’t care. Her tongue penetrated his mouth viciously. It was as if she were thirsty and only savoring from his mouth would quench that thirst. Once again she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled. Her gyrations became harder and more forceful against his strained cock. Tony wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to piss her off. She wanted to pretend she was in control, and he would give her a taste. After a few minutes of her assaulting his mouth he turned the tables on her. Quickly, before she could even process what was happening, he stood, leaving her no other choice but to wrap her legs around his waist or fall flat on her ass. Their lips never parted. She grabbed his hair, nipped his lip, and sucked his tongue. His temptress wanted it rough, it seemed. Her hand roamed his neck, his back, his face. She was everywhere, as if she couldn’t get enough. She might think she wanted to take charge, but really, she was in such a lust-filled haze that she was actually out of control. Her movements were rough and erratic, and he needed to take the lead and show her how good he could make it for her. All he needed was for her to surrender control.