Fighting Dirty

by Lori Foster

  Remembered her stripping off her jeans.

  His gaze shot down, and relief rolled through him when he saw he still wore his boxers. That told him a lot because no way would he have worked around them if they’d gotten busy.

  So clearly they hadn’t.

  Dropping back against the sink, he racked his brain and finally remembered his lame plan. He’d figured on pretending to be asleep to both discourage her from asking sexual questions and encourage him to keep his hands to himself.

  Unfortunately, he must have actually passed out on her.

  Embarrassing, but also a lifesaver.

  Had he held her all night? Turning, he strode back down the hall to his bedroom and stalled at the sight of his bed.

  He’d been there with Merissa. Memories of touching her, kissing her, teasing and talking with her all drifted in and out of his thoughts.

  He recalled those long, killer legs of hers tangling up with his. Her dark, thick hair trailing through his fingers. Her nipples pushing against the T-shirt. Her warmth and curiosity and openness with him.

  No one comes to my bed wanting just me.

  I would. I do.

  When the cell phone rang, he jumped a foot, then rushed to answer. Glancing at the screen first, he saw it was Cannon, and braced himself. “’Lo.”

  “How do you feel?”

  Armie held the phone out, stared at it, then put it back to his ear. “I’m fine. Why?”

  Cannon laughed. “You were in the middle of a bank robbery yesterday. You got clubbed on the head and across the back.”

  And I slept with your sister. “It’s all good.” He faked a yawn. “Just woke up.”

  “Yeah. Rissy texted me a half hour ago. After everything that had happened I wanted to talk to her, too. She sounded fine, like her old self. Said she was running home to shower and change before work, but that you were still snoring.”

  Armie’s heart dropped to his feet. His sexcapades were vast and varied, but had never involved a discussion with anyone’s brother.

  With humor in his tone, Cannon said, “We have a special guest today, so do you think you can hustle it up?”

  In a rasp, he asked, “Special guest?”

  “Jude Jamison.”

  Holy hell. Jude owned mega stock in the SBC organization. He’d once been a champion fighter before he left and became an even more famous actor. Then he got accused of murder, survived a grueling trial where most believed he was guilty but couldn’t prove it, fell in love and finally cleared his name. “Why?”

  “You already know why. The organization is focused on you.”

  He grumbled, rubbed his tired eyes and knew there’d be no help for it. “This sucks.”

  Cannon laughed. “Most fighters would be thrilled to get Jamison’s attention.”

  Yeah, well, he wasn’t most fighters. Already heading to his dresser, he pulled out clean socks and sweatpants and sat on the side of the bed to dress. “I was going to grab a cup of coffee and then stop on my way to get my regular cell phone fixed.”

  “Harper can get it fixed for you.”

  Harper, who’d started as a volunteer until she’d married Gage, now worked full-time at the rec center and was there almost as often as Armie. Since the cell store was only half a block down, she probably wouldn’t mind. “Fine. I’ll come right in. Okay if I drain the pipes and clean my teeth first?”

  “Sure. And take five minutes to put some fuel in the tank. I have a feeling Jamison will put you through a workout.” And with that, Cannon disconnected.

  “Pain in the ass,” Armie muttered, and finished pulling on his socks. Knowing he’d shower at the rec center, he packed his gym bag, brushed his teeth and ignored the whiskers on his face and his unkempt hair. Since he could smell the coffee, he filled a travel mug to take with him then rinsed out the carafe. He’d have to explain to Rissy that he tried to avoid caffeine.

  No, wait. He wouldn’t have her over again so he didn’t need to explain jack shit to her.

  Of course the coffee was perfect. Everything about her was perfect.

  He wished she had awakened him before leaving. Now, despite what Cannon had said, he’d be wondering all day whether or not she’d slept, and if she was nervous about returning to work.

  Last night she’d wanted to be with him.

  Today, how would she feel? He chowed down a protein-rich breakfast bar on the way to the rec center. For most of the ride he stewed and finally gave in. As soon as he parked his truck he called Merissa.

  On the third ring she answered with a rushed, “Armie, hey!”

  She sounded breathless, which sort of stole his breath, too. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Sorry, just out of the shower and hustling to get dressed so I get to the bank on time.”

  That put an immediate visual in the forefront of his brain.

  “Armie?”

  He shook off the image of her wrapped in a small towel, her skin still damp, her face flushed. “How are you?”

  “You and Cannon,” she teased. “I’m fine. What about you?”

  “I’m good.” He paused, but couldn’t hold back. “You should have woken me up before you left.”

  “I’m sorry. You looked so peaceful, and I knew I couldn’t stay anyway. It seemed a waste for us both to be up rushing.” Now she paused, then added, “Thank you for inviting me over again tonight. I appreciate that.”

  Armie went blank. He’d invited her back over?

  “I get off work at five, but it’ll probably be five-thirty before I get away. Then I’ll need to run home and change. I’m thinking six, maybe six-thirty. Does that work for you? I thought I’d cook you dinner.”

  “Um...” He scrambled for an excuse, came up blank and rubbed the back of his neck. “Should work.”

  “Great. I’ll see you then.” She disconnected.

  Armie sat there, equal parts confused, concerned and anxious to see her again. “Idiot,” he muttered to himself and left the truck.

  He saw the crowds right away. Figured a big shot like Jude Jamison would draw in the gawkers. Slinging the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder, he headed in.

  Wasn’t easy, not with an influx of semiswooning ladies all jockeying for better positions in the crowd. “Excuse me,” he said about a dozen times until he finally reached Harper, Gage’s wife.

  She stood on tiptoe, and she smiled.

  Armie said, “Not you, too.”

  She elbowed him. “It’s Jude Jamison.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Harper turned to blink at him. “He’s a movie star!”

  “Used to be.” But Jude had left that all behind.

  “Once a movie star, always a movie star.” Harper sighed. “Just look at him. He’s gorgeous.”

  “They’re both gorgeous,” another woman said.

  Armie leaned around them to see the mat and realized Jude and Cannon were sparring together. He grinned. “Got your ovaries aching, huh?”

  Harper elbowed him again. The other gal sighed, “Yes.”

  Shaking his head, Armie sidled past them until he’d reached a more open area where the other fighters stood. Gage immediately asked him, “Harper still all moony-eyed?”

  “’Fraid so.”

  “I’ll get her mind on other things once we’re out of here.” He bobbed his eyebrows to ensure everyone understood his meaning.

  Leese nodded at the mat. “Jude said he hadn’t done any actual sparring for a while, but it doesn’t show. He’s still slick with his moves.”

  “And those direct shots,” Gage added, then slanted a look at Armie. “How he throws a punch, straight and fast, reminds me a little of you.”

  Folding his arms, Armie watched for a minute and noticed that Cannon was holding back. A smart move, really. No reason for Jamison to get hurt or for Cannon to stroke his own ego when there was a lot more to be gained in a good relationship with someone of Jamison’s caliber.

  Then to Armie’s surprise, the men
finished up and Jamison said, “Thanks for going easy on me.” He grinned like he’d had the time of his life.

  Armie understood the feeling. For a man who liked to use his strength and test his speed, there wasn’t anything else like MMA.

  Cannon laughed. “You haven’t lost it, that’s for sure.”

  “I stay in shape,” Jamison said. “But there’s in shape and then there’s fighting shape. In this business, speed is the first thing to go and it makes all the difference between a champion and a mediocre contender.” He clapped Cannon on the back. “Thanks for indulging me.”

  “Anytime.”

  They stopped in front of Armie, and Jamison, after freeing himself from the fingerless gloves, offered his hand. “Armie, thanks for coming in early.”

  Cannon snorted. “He’s here all the time. Believe me, this is late.”

  Armie felt his neck go hot. He was late because he’d been sleeping with Merissa. Best rest he’d had in forever, too. “Not a problem. So what’s on the agenda? Cannon said you wanted to see me?”

  “I’ve got all day. Mind if I just watch your normal routine for a while? After that, we’ll all sit down and talk.”

  Rolling a shoulder, Armie said, “Sure. Suit yourself.”

  For the next three hours he tuned everyone out and went through his usual workout. Normally he could get into the zone and his brain would be blessedly clear. This time though, even as he went from throwing hard punches and solid kicks, to grappling with other fighters, and then to lifting weights, his thoughts stayed centered on Merissa. True, he’d been hammered last night, but not so far gone that he didn’t remember the stirring way she’d removed those formfitting jeans.

  When she’d bent to push them down, her long hair had tumbled forward, almost touching the floor. Her dark hair had inspired plenty of fantasies for him. And those beautiful bright blue eyes—they were the same color as her brother’s, and both siblings had thick, dark lashes, but on Merissa the look was sexy as hell. So many times he’d imagined anchoring her with his hands fisted in that silky hair, staring into her mesmerizing blue eyes and riding her hard until he watched her quicken, then felt her come.

  He could almost feel it now, those long, slim legs hugged around him, hear the catch in her breathing, feel the wet slickness...

  “Ready to spar?”

  Drawing a deep breath, he turned to Leese and saw he wore headgear and had his mouthpiece handy.

  Leese grinned. “We played paper/scissors/rock and I lost.”

  Not understanding, Armie shook his head.

  “Not sure if it’s for Jude’s benefit or if you’re pissed about something, but you’re really pounding out the workout today.”

  Armie frowned, glanced out at the room and saw a whole lot of people watching. What the hell? He wasn’t a Hollywood star like Jamison so they could all just go about their business.

  To Leese, he said, “You can take whatever I throw at you.”

  Leese grunted. “Going to be one of those days, huh?” He followed Armie to the corner where he had his gear. “Truthfully, though, I like it. Better opportunity for me to learn.”

  Since the improved attitude was still a somewhat new turnaround for Leese, who had, at one point, been something of a dick, Armie always enjoyed working with him. He learned fast, put his heart into it and was proving to be a better fighter than any of them had expected. Armie wasn’t sure if Leese had what it took to be a champion, but he could put on one hell of a fight.

  After wedging in his mouth guard and fastening on his headgear, Armie said, “Let’s go.”

  For another hour they sparred. Armie alternately put it to Leese, and then instructed him. That was all well and good, but then Jude wanted to see Cannon with him.

  “You too tired?” Jamison asked him.

  Cannon spoke for him, saying, “Armie has more energy than any fighter I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t gas out, ever.”

  Rolling his eyes over that effusive praise, Armie said, “If you were a chick I wouldn’t mind getting stroked, but from another dude it’s getting weird.”

  Cannon laughed. “So you are tired?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Jamison studied him. “I’d say by those bloodshot eyes you had a night of it.”

  New heat joined that from exertion. Again he said, “I’m fine.”

  Jamison looked at Cannon, who smirked, and they both laughed.

  “Yuck it up.” Armie flexed his shoulders. “We’ll see who wears down.”

  Cannon joined him on the mat. “Challenging me?”

  He sent his friend a mean grin. “You won’t be any good to Yvette tonight.”

  “Boys, boys,” Jamison said, but Armie could tell he loved this shit. “I don’t want anyone mangled. Just spar so I can see the moves, okay?”

  Cannon said, “Yeah, Yvette prefers me physically available.”

  They all laughed over that.

  Apparently Jude Jamison didn’t realize that he and Cannon were like brothers and one would never hurt the other. Of course, it was possible Cannon might drop down a weight class one day. If he did and the SBC set them up to actually compete against each other, they’d both give it their all. But that was for sport, without an ounce of animosity involved.

  Armie and Cannon engaged, and pretty soon everyone stood alongside the mat watching. Most of the ladies had finally cleared out; they didn’t really hang at the rec center all day the way many of the athletes did.

  His friends, Gage and Justice, Brand and Miles, Leese, Denver and Stack, all called out different submissions. Armie went through each one. Of course, Cannon was resisting but, for the sake of giving Jamison a demonstration, he didn’t really fight back. If he had, it wouldn’t have been so easy.

  By the time they finished it was pushing four o’clock and sweat covered Armie’s entire body. He’d had a few quick breaks and wolfed down the lunch Harper put together for him, but otherwise, he’d been busy.

  Stack did him a solid by helping him get his gloves and headgear off. “You have really sick speed.”

  “I agree,” Jamison said as he joined them. “And you honestly don’t look tired.”

  “Getting there,” Armie said. Sometimes his overabundance of energy was a problem. Like the times he tried to screw himself into exhaustion so he could sleep. Usually the woman wore out first, and then he had a hell of a time getting her up and out of his apartment.

  “He and my wife are both endless sources of energy,” Stack said. “Although it pisses her off when I compare her to Armie, given his rep and all.”

  “It’d piss me off, too,” Justice told him. “That is, if I was a sweet lady like Vanity.”

  “You’re jealous,” Denver accused. And then to Jude, “Armie racks up conquests left and right.”

  “Usually,” Miles added, “it’s the ladies chasing him.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Jamison clapped Armie on the shoulder. “Get your shower and change, and then we can talk business.”

  “Sure. Be back in ten.” After drying off his face, Armie slung the towel around his neck and grabbed up his gym bag. Chatting together, Leese and Justice followed him toward the showers. Cannon had paused to talk to some of the newer fighters hanging out.

  The tepid water of the shower felt good and helped Armie to clear his thoughts a little. He scrubbed off the sweat, and then just soaked his head for a few minutes under the spray.

  Merissa would be over again tonight and he honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his hands off her. He wouldn’t drink. He’d be crystal clear. But that might not help when put up against the force of her appeal.

  For so damned long he’d been hankering for her. When she hankered back... Yeah. He had knockout blows, but he wasn’t strong enough to resist that.

  Knowing he shouldn’t keep Jamison waiting, he turned off the water and quickly dried, then stepped out of the shower.

  “Holy shit.”

  He turned, saw Leese looking stunned and ask
ed, “What’s your problem?”

  “Whoa!”

  He turned again and saw Justice standing there slack-jawed.

  Quickly getting irked, Armie scowled. “What?”

  Cannon strode in, his cell phone to his ear, and suddenly Leese was at his back, way too damn close for two naked dudes. Armie was ready to shove him away when Justice stepped in front of him. Crowded between a lot of naked muscle, Armie said, “What the hell?”

  In a low whisper, Justice told him, “Hold up a second.”

  “Dude, we’re a hair from crossing swords.”

  Justice practically shoved him back into the shower, and Leese, looking a little panicked, helped.

  Stumbling, Armie grabbed the shower wall to brace himself. “If this is some new hazing deal, I’m going to kick both your asses!”

  Oblivious to the altercation, Cannon turned near the lockers and headed to the back of the room.

  Leese let out a breath. “It’s your ass, Armie.”

  Yeah, that cleared up nothing. “I know the ladies like it, but you, Leese?”

  Justice shoved him. “Look at it, idiot.”

  “Look at my own butt?”

  Grumbling, Leese grabbed up a hand mirror used for shaving and held it down by Armie’s backside. “Look.”

  Baffled, Armie peered over his shoulder at the mirror, and his eyeballs almost fell out.

  Written across the top of one glute in what must’ve been permanent marker were the words Rissy was here.

  Damn it, she just might get that spanking after all.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WITH HIS HEART thumping into overdrive, Armie snatched up a towel and wrapped it tight around his hips before glaring at both men. “Not a word. Not a single. Fucking. Word. To anyone.”

  Mute, Justice used one finger to draw a cross over his hairy chest, right where his heart would be.

  Wearing a look of disdain, Leese said, “I wouldn’t have helped you hide it if I planned to blab it.”

  Leaning in, his voice faint, Justice asked, “Want me to see if Harper has anything that’ll remove marker?”

  “No.” Good God. The last thing he wanted was Harper asking questions. He’d take care of removing it at home, alone. And seriously, he should give some thought to putting Rissy over his knee.