The Fight Club - Boxed Set

by Becca Jameson

  Mariel was there early and chuckled at Jenna’s good mood. “He was that good, huh?”

  “Ah, so David told you about Mason.”

  “Yep. I’m happy for you if he’s the one who put that smile on your face. Did he send the roses and chocolates also?” Mariel pointed at the two items on the counter. The ribbons were gone. Jenna shuddered to consider what Mason had in mind for them next time she saw him.

  “Send isn’t a very accurate description since the roses were from my own fridge, and the chocolates came from next door. But yes.”

  The day went by quickly, and at five o’clock Jenna got a text from Mason.

  Got your number from Katy. I had a great time last night.

  She nearly shit. That was all he said. She saved his number in her phone and replied.

  Glad you’re so resourceful. Same here.

  Jenna closed the shop and headed home. When she got there, Katy was sitting on the stoop outside her apartment. She had a grin on her face that said she knew at least some of the details.

  “Wow, news travels fast,” Jenna said as she opened the front door.

  “Yeah. Rafe called me from work this morning. He said Mason had taken you on a date last night. A date? Really?”

  “Yes. If by date you mean dinner and a delicious fuck in the back of the store, then yes.”

  “Are you serious?” Katy clapped her hands as they shut the front door. “He actually made love to you. That’s so romantic, and so not like him. Maybe he won’t disappoint you after all.”

  “We’ll see. He did assure me that wasn’t his usual way of handling women. I’m not sure he isn’t humoring me.”

  “Still, it’s progress. I’ve never known him to date any woman. He’s had subs at the club that he entertained himself with for brief stints each, but never anything long term.”

  Jenna could only hope she wasn’t in over her head and setting herself up for disaster. “I’m cautiously optimistic.”

  “Good. When are you seeing him again?”

  “He didn’t say.” Jenna led the way to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of red wine from the counter. “Wine?”

  “Of course.” Katy reached into the cabinet and pulled out a pair of glasses. “Hmm. So no plans for the next date.”

  “Don’t read too much into it,” Jenna pleaded. “He’s figuring things out same as me.”

  “Let’s go shopping,” Katy shouted.

  Jenna leaned back. “Shopping. What on earth for? That’s so out of the blue.”

  “Not if you’re shopping for fetishwear so you can impress your man for the weekend.”

  “Ah. That.” The idea made Jenna nervous. She wasn’t sure she was ready for the intensity of the club.

  “Scared?”

  “Yes.” She set the wine down and twisted her hands in front of her. “What if I can’t live up to his standards?”

  “Do you know how funny that sounds coming from you?” Katy laughed. “His standards? What if he can’t live up to yours?”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Did you just say that?”

  Katy swatted at her arm playfully. “You know I’m kidding. But you have to see the humor in it. Do you think good old Mom and Dad would find Mason to be up to your standards?”

  “Not a chance in hell, but you know I’m not like that.”

  “I know. As for Mason, better to know that now rather than later, right?”

  “Ugh. Why do you always have to be so damn astute?”

  Katy giggled. “Let’s go. We’ll eat dinner on the way, and you can tell me all about how sexy Mason’s chest is.”

  “Hey, you just got married. You shouldn’t be looking at Mason’s chest.”

  Katy grabbed Jenna’s arm and tugged her back to the front door. “A girl can look.”

  “Haven’t you seen his chest a number of times at fights?” Jenna grabbed her purse on the way out.

  “Yes, but it’s so much better through your eyes.”

  Caught up in the giddiness of her friend, Jenna let Katy drag her to the largest fetish shop outside of town. They wandered around inside for an hour while Katy educated Jenna on everything from nipple clamps to violet wands.

  By the time they entered the fitting room with a bustier and a garter belt, Jenna was shaking with nerves. Could she do this?

  “What if he asks more of me than I can give? I’m not close to ready to strip in public like you did last week,” Jenna called through the curtain of the fitting room.

  “Then you’ll have to tell him. He’s a reasonable guy.”

  Jenna peeked out the slit in the curtain and stared at Katy. “Reasonable and Mason don’t belong in the same sentence. That’s an oxymoron.”

  “Yeah, but he’s totally into you. I think he’ll lighten up.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. If he tries to be someone he isn’t, sooner or later it will catch up to him, and we’ll fight. I’ll lose.” Jenna opened the curtain and stood before Katy, knowing this was the most ridiculous getup she’d ever donned. “This isn’t fit for public consumption.”

  “Why not? It’s covering all your vital parts.”

  Jenna looked down. “Which parts? I’m almost naked.”

  “Nipples. Crotch. That’s all that really matters.”

  “Okay, nipples barely.” Jenna hoisted the front of the corset up higher, the shelf for her breasts reaching only millimeters past her areolas. “And the only thing covering my crotch is my own thong. I kinda like the garters, though. They feel sexy.”

  “You look fabulous.”

  “Okay, but I’m not ready to wear this in public. Let me try something else for a starter outfit.”

  Katy pouted, but consented and turned to grab something more modest off the rack. When she returned, Jenna was impressed. “Shit, that’s smokin’. Do you think it will fit?” She ducked back inside and stripped off the tight bustier.

  The new ensemble was a one-piece dress consisting of a supple, black leather bikini top that would cover her breasts as well as any bra. The bottom half was also black leather, a skirt that was short and tight. But as Jenna wiggled into it, she decided it covered all the essential parts, reaching barely below her butt cheeks and starting above her pubic hair. The center was a mesh tulle that was totally see-through and sexy as hell.

  Jenna opened the curtain again, and Katy gasped. “I love it. That’s so hot.”

  “What will Mason think?”

  “He’s going to eat out of your hand.”

  Why do I doubt that?

  Mason texted Jenna every day that week. He invited her to accompany him on Friday evening to watch him fight and then head to the club again. It seemed he did that often.

  He didn’t suggest seeing her again during the week, but he was incredibly busy by her standards. The man worked out every night at the gym. Jenna had never known anyone so dedicated.

  On Friday he picked her up at home. She wore black jeans, a black top, and the same fuck-me heels from last week, this time chosen by herself.

  Mason eyed her with a grin from head to toe and kissed her on the cheek. “You look fantastic.”

  “You look like you’ve been beaten.” She cringed. His eye had a cut above it and his cheek was blue.

  “Rafe didn’t treat me well in the gym yesterday. It’s okay.”

  Jenna followed him to his car.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “Stuff.” The dress she intended to wear later was conveniently wrinkle free and she tossed it in the back seat when he opened the car door. “For later. Don’t peek.”

  Mason did turn around with a frown when he settled into his own seat. “I don’t like secrets.”

  “You’ll like this one. Just drive.” She had no idea where she was going to change, but she intended to figure it out sooner or later.

  The arena was more crowded than last week, and Jenna felt more confident than seven days ago too. She’d studied the sport this time and at least knew the difference between
grappling and striking. Whoever sat near her in the girlfriend zone couldn’t accuse her of being ignorant this time.

  Mason was quieter than usual. He didn’t say much on the drive nor in the locker room. When Byron came to get her, she felt uneasy. “Good luck. See you on the other side.”

  Byron led her down the same hall as last week.

  Jenna stopped him as they approached the noise. “Is everything okay? You’re both very hushed.”

  “It’s a stiff competition this week. Mason has lost to this guy twice, and he doesn’t like to lose.”

  Jenna nodded.

  “And we don’t usually have two competitions in a row like this. So, Mason is more tired than usual.” Byron strolled away, leaving her to enter the arena and find her seat.

  She was later this time. The previous match ended soon after she took a chair in the same corner as last week.

  The woman who sat in the seat next to her got up and left as soon as the competition ended.

  Jenna wrung her hands as she waited. The crowd was lively. Surely all these people didn’t know the fighters? Was it so popular watching men beat each other up that everyone flocked to the arena on a Friday night?

  The announcer called the next competition, and Mason stepped into the cage. He strolled over to the corner, but he didn’t look at Jenna at all.

  It’s okay. He’s concentrating. He’s in a zone. Let it go.

  She felt uncomfortable alone in the stands without a Shelly to guide her. She knew more, but she also had the opportunity to really study the sport this time. What the hell was she doing following a fighter around? This was so unlike her.

  The bell chimed, and Jenna jerked in her seat. She stood and angled around the others milling in the front row to see over their heads.

  From the first moment, it didn’t look good. Mason took a hard hit to the left side of his head, and then he went down for several seconds. The other guy lay on top of him, grappling for domination. Mason didn’t give up, but by the time the five minutes were up, he was struggling. He staggered to his seat, and Byron wiped him down with a towel.

  Jenna wanted to scream. What the hell did he want to do this for? And why was she watching?

  She was crazy.

  She sat on her hands for the entire minute and then stood reluctantly when the bell chimed again. The insanity continued. Mason avoided several hits with his signature bullfighting move, but his opponent was on his game. The man kept coming and coming until Mason was backed up against the fence. Blood ran down his face and dripped from his arm.

  Jenna wanted to vomit, or close her eyes. Either way, this wasn’t her cup of tea. She’d been kidding herself all week. She’d never be able to do this on a regular basis. Last week had been different. Mason had won. He’d had the upper hand almost from the start. But this… This was reality. Sometimes he would lose.

  By the time the bell rang, ending the third round, Jenna was a ball of nerves. Her hands were sweating, and she felt fidgety. She couldn’t get out of the arena fast enough.

  Mason had lost, and the victor was prancing around the cage with his fist in the air.

  A disgusting bloody Mason left the mat and disappeared down the ramp to the locker rooms.

  Jenna followed at a distance, not sure what sort of Mason she would encounter after that competition. She didn’t know him well enough to assess his moods yet.

  She waited in the hall, feeling stupid and out of sorts for half an hour. What she wanted to do was run from the location and flee the premises. This didn’t suit her at all. She was a fish out of water.

  But she hadn’t driven here, and besides, it wasn’t fair to Mason to leave without talking to him. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like going to the club after all. She’d be content to call it a night and go home at this point.

  Finally the door opened, and Mason stepped sheepishly out of the locker room. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to take so long.” He cringed when he spoke, but righted himself quickly, standing taller and straightening his shoulders.

  “No problem. I’m sorry about the match.” What else could she say?

  He shrugged. “Win some. Lose some. I knew it was going to be tough going in.” He took her hand and led her down the hall in an awkward silence.

  Her chest lightened somewhat now that he was near and seemed sane.

  “I need a drink,” he mumbled.

  Now? He didn’t drink last week when he took her to Extreme. Wasn’t that like against his personal policy?

  Jenna’s nerves kicked back up a notch. She dragged a few steps behind him.

  “You okay?” he asked as he opened the car door. “You’re awfully quiet.”

  She shrugged. “We don’t have to go to the club if you aren’t up to it.”

  He leaned in the door. “You don’t want to go?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Mason stood back and shut the door a little too hard. When he entered from his side, his lips were pursed. He started the engine without saying a word.

  They drove for fifteen minutes in silence until Jenna wanted him to let her out of the car wherever they were so she could escape his brooding. She didn’t know what his problem was. Was he mad about losing? Or was he mad about her attitude? She didn’t know how to tell him the fight scene wasn’t her thing.

  Finally she realized they were headed to her place. She was both relieved and disappointed. Maybe this entire adventure had been a pipe dream.

  Mason pulled up to the curb and stopped the engine. He sat still for a minute. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

  This? This what? This relationship or this evening?

  Jenna gripped her hands in her lap and looked at his profile, trying to read him.

  He spoke again without looking at her. “I don’t lose often. I’m not very good at it.”

  “I understand.” But she didn’t. None of it. Not the fighting or the no-girlfriend rule or the fetish scene. It suddenly seemed way out of her league.

  “Can I take a rain check?” He glanced her way.

  “Of course.” Or maybe not.

  She grabbed her bag from the backseat, feeling foolish now to have thought she would ever wear such a thing. When she reached for the door, he stopped her with one hand. “Let me get it.”

  He was out of the car and around to her side in seconds. At least he hadn’t lost that gentlemanly touch. When she exited, he lifted her chin and frowned into her eyes. He kissed her forehead and then walked her to the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

  “Okay.” She ducked inside quick, fighting back tears, wishing he would go so she could wallow in her own stupid hurt.

  Mason turned around and ambled back to his car with his hands in his pockets.

  Jenna watched him from the window as a lone tear slipped down her cheek. Why the sudden emotion, she had no idea.

  It was all so stupid. She never should have let herself get caught in this roller coaster ride. She’d known for a week it would come to this. She wasn’t cut out for his life, and he couldn’t change for her.

  She headed straight to her bedroom, stripped off her clothes, and tugged on a T-shirt. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she curled into her bed and let the tears of regret fall from her face. She didn’t bother wiping them away.

  She deserved to wear them, like a badge of her own ignorance for letting her heart get involved with a man like Mason Simmons.

  Chapter Twelve

  Her phone was ringing. It had been for a while.

  Jenna rolled onto her back and glanced at the clock. Shit. It was already eight. She never slept this late. She had to get to the shop. It was her turn to open. She flung back the covers, ignoring the ringing that started over in the kitchen, and headed for the shower. In twenty minutes she was clean, dressed, and out the door.

  She didn’t glance at her phone until she opened the shop at nine.

  Katy. Call me. What happened?

  Jenna sighed. The last
thing she wanted to do this morning was rehash last night. She didn’t want to think about it.

  Luckily the shop was busy all morning. David arrived soon after she opened and started with the deliveries. Mariel came in at noon and took over the front, leaving Jenna to brood alone in the back while she did what she loved most in the world.

  As she reached for the wide white ribbon to finish off an arrangement, she cringed and chose a different style.

  When the door between the shop and the back opened later in the afternoon and Katy barreled in, Jenna was almost ready to smile.

  “What happened? And why didn’t you call me back?” She cocked her hip and set her hand on it.

  “I’ve been busy, and nothing happened.” That was an understatement.

  “Then why did Mason show up at the club alone last night and spend the evening sitting at the bar alone? He never does that; and he never broods.”

  “He went to the club?” She took the information like a punch to the gut.

  “Yes. And he looked like he’d been beaten too. I guess he lost his fight?”

  “Yep.” Jenna continued to arrange the spray of pink carnations in front of her.

  “That’s it? Just, yep?” Katy leaned on the counter to make eye contact with her friend. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Jenna took a deep breath. “Nothing really. We went to the arena. He lost. He brooded. He brought me home. The end.”

  “Why didn’t you come to the club with him? So what if he lost?”

  “Truthfully? I didn’t know he was going there. He didn’t seem like he wanted company and…” Jenna stopped working and looked at her friend. “Katy, I don’t think this is going to work.”

  “What? You and Mason? You didn’t give it a chance, and I know you like him, or you wouldn’t be shaking like you are and stabbing red flower thingies in with the pink thingies.” Katy swiped her hand through the air as she spoke.

  Jenna grinned. “Thingies?”

  “Whatever. Get back on subject. Do you or do you not have the hots for Mason Simmons?”

  “Of course I do. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Then why did he take you home and come alone to Extreme last night?”

  “I have no idea, Katy. Why don’t you ask him?” Jenna threw up her arms. “Maybe he didn’t feel like being with me?”