“I’ll bet on the other chick. The one on the floor with her legs spread wide. Fuck, what a waste.” Cueball took out a twenty-dollar bill. “Who you betting on?” he asked Army.
Without taking his eyes off the fight for one second, Army crossed his powerful arms. “Stiletto, all the way. She knows her shit and can she move.”
Before any of the other guys placed their bets, Stiletto had her legs closed together, one of them on Athena’s neck, the other right below her armpit. As Stiletto straightened, she held her opponent’s wrist tightly, bending it in a way a wrist wasn’t supposed to be bent. Tears streamed down Athena’s face.
“Stiletto has her in an arm bar. Pay up.” Army held out his hand, his gaze still fixed on the fighters. Then he saw Athena tap the ground, signaling the referee to stop the match, and he closed his hand around the crisp twenty-dollar bill.
“I wanted Athena to win,” Cueball said, shaking his head. “I’m a sucker for blondes.”
“That was the hottest thing I’ve seen in a while,” Eagle said.
“Hailey should’ve been here to watch that fight. She’s getting into mixed martial arts.” Goldie plopped down on the metal chair.
“Really? I didn’t think there were any MMA training gyms in Alina,” Army said as he watched a large muscular guy escort Stiletto down the stairs, his bulging arm wrapped around her.
“She goes to Alina Martial Arts.”
“I bet the training is weak as shit over there. I still say there isn’t a decent training gym in the whole damn county.”
“Breanna goes to their self-defense classes. She’s trying to get Chelsea to join her,” Steel said as he glanced down at the schedule.
“Hailey doesn’t want to compete. She just wants to learn some tactics and self-defense. I tried teaching her but we always ended up fucking at some point, so she decided to go to the gym.” Goldie laughed.
“I’ve been there with Breanna, bro. We never finished a full lesson.” Steel tipped his chair backward.
“Are there any more chicks fighting tonight?” Chains asked.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Goldie replied, laying the schedule on his denim-clad thigh.
“I’m gonna see how Taylor is. I’ll be back in a few,” Army said.
“Bullshit. You wanna see that Stiletto chick up close. You’ve got a boner for her,” Eagle said as Army slipped past him.
Ignoring his comment, Army made his way toward the ring. Two burly men stood sentry at the door leading to the back area.
“Where’s your badge?” one of them asked.
“Taylor ‘Mayhem’ Conway is my brother, dude.”
Stone-faced, he stared at Army. “That means shit. You got a badge?”
Anger pricked his nerves and he took two steps until he was almost nose to nose with the man. “I just fuckin’ told you, Taylor’s my brother.”
“Anyone can say that. Step back. Now.”
Army’s hands clenched into fists and blood rushed to his throbbing temples.
“He’s cool, Rocky. I know him,” a sultry voice said behind him.
Army whirled around and the air sucked out of his lungs as his eyes locked with Stiletto’s.
“If you say so,” Rocky said dully.
Army tore his gaze from her face and ran it slowly over her body, tensing when it landed on the swell of her tits, which spilled over the top of her tight-fitting sports bra. Desire raced through him as he drew in a raspy breath.
“I’m up here,” she said, a frown creasing her forehead. He snapped his gaze back to her face. She shook her head then brushed past him and went through the door Rocky held open. “Get in, or your chance is lost.”
Army watched her hips sway and her ass bounce as he followed her. “You did a great job in the ring.”
Stiletto looked over her shoulder as she kept walking, her high heels clacking on the concrete floor. “Thanks. Taylor’s in there.” She pointed to a door on the right.
“Wait up. How about a drink or something after the fights?”
She stopped so abruptly that he ran into her, her fine ass bumping against his hardness. Turning around, her face wore a mask of contempt. “I was just helping you out because Taylor’s been talking about you coming to the fight for the past week.”
“You sure that’s the only reason?” Army leaned back on his heels.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not into cocky jerks.”
“Army,” Taylor’s voice said behind him. “Way to go, Stiletto. You kicked Athena’s ass good.”
Her chuckle was slow and warm like honey. Army stared at her lips. I wonder if she tastes as sweet as she sounds.
“I’m glad I broke my losing streak. Later.” Stiletto glanced at Army. “You can stop fantasizing now.” She spun around and walked away. Army watched the tattoos on her back move until a firm clasp on his shoulder diverted his attention.
“Did you catch my fight? I looked for you earlier but didn’t see you,” Taylor said.
Army pulled his brother into a bear hug. “I wouldn’t miss your match. You fuckin’ nailed the bastard. A knockout in less than five minutes? The recruiters will be banging down your door.”
Taylor patted Army’s back then stepped back. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I still have losses in matches I should’ve easily won.”
“That was a while ago. Your last several fights were great. No way the UMMAC doesn’t want you.” He glanced around the small room and spotted a mini-fridge in the corner. “You got some beer in there? We gotta celebrate.” He went over and bent down.
“Get one for you,” Taylor answered.
“I’m not drinking alone. You can have one fuckin’ beer. Your fight’s over, bro.” Army took out two cans and handed one to Taylor. “Don’t argue about it. Just drink the damn thing.” He sat on the small couch, cracked open the top, and took a deep gulp, then he motioned his brother to drink up.
Taylor plopped down in an armchair. “Did any of the Night Rebels come?” He slowly brought the can to his lips and stared at it as though it were poison.
“Yeah. My prez and VP are here.”
“Steel and Paco came?” Army nodded. “That’s cool,” Taylor said before he took a small sip.
“Cueball’s here too and some of the others. They wanna go to Harry’s Hall after the fights. They’ll expect you to join them.” Army shook his head. “Don’t give me that look, dude. You can come out to play for an hour. Damn, you can’t train all the time. You gotta have some fun too.”
“Now you sound like Dad.” Taylor put his beer down on the table. “It’s hard for you guys to understand, but I’m trying to go pro. It’s all I think about. Once that happens, I’ll slow down a bit.”
“I get it, but you need to relax. When’s the last time you got laid?” Army crushed his can, tossed it in the trash, then went over to the fridge and took out another beer.
Taylor snorted. “How the hell is that your business?”
Army rubbed his hand on Taylor’s smooth head then sat down again. “It’s not, but as your big brother, I’m just making sure that you’re keeping all of your parts toned.”
“I’m doing just fine.” The corners of his mouth curled up.
“What’s the story with the chick in the high heels?” Army stared at the metallic writing on the can.
“Stiletto? I don’t know. She’s an MMA fighter.”
“I fuckin’ know that. I mean, how long has she been training at the gym with you? I don’t remember seeing her before.”
“She’s been there for a while. You probably didn’t pay any attention. You like your women blonde, stacked, and with a ton of curves.”
“She’s been there for years? No way.” I definitely would’ve remembered her, and she’s stacked just fine.
“Not that long. She moved to Durango from Arizona. She’s been with us for a year or so. You’ve only been to the gym a few times in the past year, so I’m not surprised you didn’t run into her. She usually trains a
t night. Anyway, she’s really good. When she came to Champion, she was in the middle of a losing streak.”
“She kicked ass tonight.” Army wanted to ask if the dude he saw escorting her from the ring was her man, but he didn’t want Taylor to give him that look. He was also pretty sure Taylor would do everything in his power to make sure he kept Stiletto away from his big brother. Army had the reputation of being a heartbreaker, and neither of his two brothers would ever hook him up with any women. Not that he wanted to hook up with Stiletto, he was just curious, that was all.
“She fought real well. Mia’s worked hard for tonight’s win. I’m happy for her.” Taylor looked down at his phone. “Dad’s saying he’s sorry he missed the fight.”
“He’ll make it to the next one. So Stiletto’s name is Mia?”
“What?” Taylor looked up.
“The chick who fights.” Army hated himself for asking.
“Oh … yeah. Her name’s Mia. Why all the questions?”
The hair on the back of his neck bristled. “Are you going to Harry’s or not?”
“Yeah, I’ll go. Why’re you pissed all of a sudden?”
“I’m not pissed.” Army rose to his feet. “I gotta get back to my seat. I rode my bike, so we can just meet at Harry’s after the fights.”
“Okay. Are you sure you’re not mad?”
“Yep.” The truth was—flames of anger licked through him. He wasn’t the type to ask questions about a chick. If he saw a woman who piqued his interest, he’d lock eyes with her then give her his boyish grin, and by the end of the night, they’d be fucking up a storm at her place. Asking about Stiletto or Mia or whatever the hell her name was reeked of weakness, and it pissed the hell out of him. Big time.
“Come in,” Taylor said.
Army jerked his head back; he hadn’t even heard anyone knock. Taylor opened the door and she stood there. Long, glossy caramel-brown hair with toffee streaks running through it tumbled loosely over her shoulders. Stiletto had changed into a short-as-hell black dress that hugged her hips and thighs and showed off the tempting swell of her breasts. Army ran his gaze down the length of her, his pants growing snug as he took in her shapely legs, the chain tattoo around one of her ankles, and the high heels. For a split second, all he could see was himself pounding inside her with those fuck-me heels digging into his ass.
“What’s up?” Taylor asked.
Taylor’s voice took Army out of the moment, and he lifted his gaze to Stiletto’s face. She glared at him with high color in her cheeks. If you didn’t want me to stare at you, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have worn that sexy-as-hell dress. You came over here to see me. You’re not fooling me one fuckin’ bit.
“Goliath wants to see you,” she said, diverting her attention away from Army.
Army walked over, and the scent of lemongrass and basil swirled around him. “You smell good,” he said in a low voice.
Ignoring him, Stiletto leaned against the doorframe.
“If you don’t want me to rub against you then get out of the way. But … maybe that’s exactly what you want.” He quirked his lips.
“Army!” Taylor’s voice boomed behind him as Stiletto moved away.
“See you at Harry’s. Oh … and bring the ring girls. Me and the guys wanna have some fun.”
From his peripheral vision, he saw Stiletto’s eyes widen and a bolt of satisfaction raced through him. Feeling her gaze on him, he swaggered down the hall with a big smile plastered across his face.
We’ll be fucking by the end of next week.
He went back inside the arena.
Chapter Two
Mia stared after Army until he disappeared through the door. He was so much of an arrogant sonofabitch, it didn’t matter that he was such a hunk. Not at all. Who cared that he had blue eyes that pulled her in or that his strong jaw and high cheekbones made him ruggedly handsome. And the last thing she cared about was his sculpted, inked arms and his narrow waist. Nope … she didn’t care at all that he was just her type. The guy’s a fucking jerk.
“Sorry about my brother. He can be … uh … kind of—”
“An asshole?” She smiled at Taylor. “No worries. I’ve dealt with worse. I just can’t believe he’s your brother. You’re so nice and polite.”
Taylor threw his head back. “I’m just better at filtering than Army is. He comes off too strong until you get to know him, and then he’s a pretty cool guy.”
“I guess I’ll never know that since I don’t plan to get to know him.” Mia rubbed the sides of her arms. “I wish they’d turn down the damn AC. It’s freezing around here. By the way, you did awesome out there against Destroyer. If the UMMAC doesn’t pick you up, it’ll be their loss. I saw a couple of recruits out there. Maybe that’s what Goliath wants to talk to you about.”
Taylor’s face flushed. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. He probably wants to chew me out on my weak back kicks. They totally sucked. Are you sticking around?”
“No. I’m meeting up with a few friends I’ve ignored for the last three weeks. I’ll see you at the gym on Monday.”
She stood aside until Taylor walked toward the office, then she went to the door leading out to the arena and slowly cracked it open.
“Coming out?” Rocky asked, his gaze raking over her body.
Folding her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “Just checking out how Perry’s doing.”
“He’s getting his ass kicked by Babyface.”
“That’s too bad.” Stiletto glanced at the ring and saw Perry wrestling with Babyface on the floor, then she scanned the crowd and spotted Army standing up and pumping his fists in the air, which made the muscles in his arms ripple. There was no doubt that he was deliciously buffed, and the way he wore his dark brown hair short on the sides but just full enough on top surely invited women’s fingers to test its softness. Army’s features were chiseled; his straight nose, sensuously full mouth, and the right amount of stubble covering his angular jaw would make most women drool. Then there were his eyes—those incredible blue eyes that resembled the color of stormy skies. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
And that was all above his neck. She groaned. Why the fuck is he so good looking? Her gaze traveled downward; broad shoulders, a tapered, narrow waist, and sculpted arms probably had women sighing with pure desire. I bet he has taut pecs and killer six-pack abs under his shirt. Fuck. She groaned again. “Why do you have to be such a misogynist jackass?” she muttered under her breath.
The bell rang and before she could turn her attention to the ring, steely eyes captured hers. She held her breath.
A couple of seconds passed.
He smirked.
Fuckface. Anger rushed down her spine, and she flipped him off. Right there, in front of everyone, including her trainer, Rick.
Then the rugged bastard had the nerve to laugh and nudge the guy next to him while pointing at her. Mia spun around and slammed the door, but all the cheering for Babyface’s win dulled the dramatic effect she’d wanted. “Grrr …!” She stalked down the hall, went into her room, grabbed her purse and gym bag, and left the building.
On the way over to Cricket on the Hill, Mia cranked the radio at full volume as if that would exorcize him from her mind. She swung into the parking lot and nabbed a space close to the front door. A last minute glance in the mirror told her that she did a killer job concealing the marks Athena had given her during their match. Mia finger-combed her hair then got out of the car.
“Mia! Over here,” Ronica cried out as she entered the popular bar and eatery. Ronica and Mia had clicked when they first met at Salon on the Boulevard a little over a year ago. Ronica rented the booth catty-corner to hers. She had been beyond nervous about going into business for herself and forgoing a guaranteed paycheck each week, but Ronica had been her motivational coach during those few months when the clients were low but the bills were high.
“How’d it go?” Ronica’s dark eyes swept over Mia’s face
then body. “No broken bones. Just a bit of swelling on the cheeks. That’s a good sign, right?”
“I ruled tonight,” Mia answered as she pulled the chair out and sat down.
“I still don’t know how you guys can go into a ring and punch the shit out of each other. I could never do it … I’d be scared stiff,” Danielle said. She was another hair stylist at the salon, and Mia had become friendly with her over the past few months.
“You’d be freaked about breaking a nail,” Peyton added, and the other women laughed.
Danielle held up her hands in front of her. “I bet you can’t even have long nails.”
“You’re right, you can’t.” Mia picked up the drink specials menu.
With her hands still up in front of her, Danielle shook her head. “See that just wouldn’t work for me. I’d die without my nail art.”
“Having to keep my nails ultra short has been the hardest part since I began training.” Mia looked up at the waiter and ordered a Mudslide. When the waiter left, guilt pangs stabbed at her. “Maybe I should change my order to a glass of chardonnay.”
Ronica tossed her dark hair over her shoulders. “Don’t you dare. You can afford to have a decadent drink, especially since you won your fight.”
“And you don’t have an ounce of fat on you, so it won’t kill you,” Peyton added.
“Guilt attack over. I’m pigging out tonight. Let’s order appetizers.” Mia giggled.
As they sipped their drinks, the women’s eyes lit up when the waiter put a large platter in front of them. Carrots, celery, and pita chips surrounded a crock of hot artichoke-and-spinach dip.
“That looks fucking awesome,” Ronica said as she picked up a chip.
“Good choice,” Danielle injected, swiping the carrot stick through the gooey dip.
Mia crunched down on a celery stalk, and her mouth danced from the sweet, nutty flavor of the dip and the tang from the feta cheese. “This is so good,” she said.
“How can you concentrate at the gym with all those buffed guys working out?” Danielle asked.
Mia laughed. “I’m so focused on what I’m doing and trying not to get my face smashed in that I don’t even notice.”
Army Page 2
