The Fight Club - Boxed Set

by Becca Jameson

  “Hardly,” Zane added as he squared up with Conner. “I pray to God I’m as fit as you when I’m your age.”

  “Hell, I wish I had been,” Joe said. “I was never as strong as you guys are back in the day. Nobody was. Y’all are made of steel these days.”

  Conner threw a few jabs at the air. “Saw Rider yesterday. He said you were holed up with a woman.” The man grinned.

  Zane rolled his eyes as he stretched the tight muscle in his thigh. “Holed up? It’s not like I had her tied to the bed or turned over my knee. The woman had a concussion. I was a total gentleman.”

  Conner chuckled. “Uh huh. I heard she was all legs, and I know how you feel about legs.”

  “True. They are smokin’ hot. Not gonna deny it. She’s agreed to go on a date with me Friday.”

  “A date?” Conner stopped jumping to clutch his chest. “That’s rich. When was the last time you went on a vanilla date?”

  “Can’t remember. High school maybe. But she’s worth it. Trust me.” Zane jumped forward. “Now, give me what you’ve got before I catch you unaware and knock you on your ass, old guy.”

  Conner laughed harder, but he got into position, and the two of them started the workout.

  »»•««

  On Friday night, Zane stood at Abby’s front door, smoothing his hands down his shirt and taking a deep breath. He felt like he was fifteen the way he’d stressed about this date all week.

  Abby had insisted on going home after two nights in his care. Her head no longer hurt, and her cuts were healing well. Zane took her to pick up a rental car, and that was the last time he’d seen her. He’d texted her every day, but he hadn’t gone by her house. He didn’t think he could control himself around her another minute, and she needed to heal before he saw her again. Because the next time he was in her presence, his lips were going to devour her.

  He lifted his hand and knocked on her front door.

  When it opened, he froze. Abby stood there wearing a tight black skirt that left plenty of long legs extended for his perusal. Her blouse was a deep purple, thin enough to hint at the black lace bra underneath. It had a collar, but Abby had left the top few buttons undone, leaving enough cleavage to make him drool.

  He swallowed. “Abby… You… Uh…” He met her gaze. Except for the tiny stitches on her forehead and chin, no one would know she’d been in a serious car accident a few days ago. Her hair was down and hung in full waves down her back. Her blue eyes looked almost purple against the tones of her shirt. He let his gaze roam back down her body until he reached her feet. Strappy black heels finished the outfit. She wasn’t wearing hose.

  The thought of running his hand up her bare leg made him swallow again.

  “You want to come in?” She held the door open wider and stepped back. “I just need to grab my purse.” She turned and walked farther into the house, giving him a view of her perfect ass encased in the black skirt. It swayed fantastically when she walked.

  Swallowing was no longer his primary concern. He was more worried about choking.

  When she returned, purse in hand, he hadn’t moved. “Ready.”

  There was no way he could do anything before he tasted her. She may not like him messing up the glossy lipstick she’d carefully applied before he arrived, but tough. Zane grabbed both her hands, pulled her closer until they were chest to chest on her front porch, and lowered his face to claim her mouth.

  He’d only meant to taste, but immediately got swept into another dimension when their lips touched. Before he could stop himself, he angled his head to one side and deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth to claim every inch.

  She moaned against him, her hands moving from his hands to his biceps as he lifted his fingers to wrap them around her waist. The sounds she made stiffened his cock instantly. If he shuffled forward another inch, he would have her belly pressed against his length.

  Instead he concentrated on her lips, the way her palms wrapped around his arms, her nails digging into his skin. She tasted like her lip gloss, berry or something. He could stand there kissing her for the rest of his life and be content. Sort of.

  When his knees threatened to buckle, he finally broke free, setting his forehead against hers and gasping for air. He let his hands trail up her sides until they rested under her breasts. “Jesus, Abby.”

  She nodded subtly. Her lips were swollen, and when she reached out her tongue to lick them, he groaned.

  Gripping her tighter, he eased away from her until several inches separated them. “Have I mentioned you look amazing?”

  “No.” She smiled. “You look pretty fantastic yourself.”

  “We should go to dinner. Like now. Before I change my mind and push you into the house instead.”

  “Mmm.” She didn’t move, and Zane’s libido shot even higher. Lord, she was going to kill him.

  With a deep breath, he yanked the door closed, took her by the hand, and led her to his truck.

  “I don’t know if I can climb into that thing, Zane.” She laughed as he held the door open.

  Zane grabbed her by the waist and easily lifted her into the seat. “Problem solved.”

  She gasped. “Okay then.” Zane watched as she situated herself and pulled her seatbelt on. Her damn legs were so sexy, and he could see most of them now that she was sitting and her skirt had risen. Of course he’d seen them in their entirety several times, including the day he met her—the moment he knew he wanted her, even before he saw her face.

  Such a leg man… He shut her door and rounded the hood, taking deep breaths and hoping he didn’t act like an idiot all evening. Usually he was calm, organized, prompt. People said he was anal. But small details seemed to disappear in her presence when his focus narrowed in on her and he lost track of everything else around him.

  He turned toward her as he started the truck. “Italian?”

  “Sounds good.” She crossed her legs, tugging again on the hem of her skirt.

  What Zane wanted to do was command her to spread her legs instead. He wanted to reach between her legs and see if she was wet. Or better yet, have her touch her pussy and show him how wet she was. But this was a vanilla date. And he kept his mouth closed and pulled away from the curb, wondering how he was going to make it through the evening in vanilla fashion, especially if Abby continued to fidget next to him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, clearly nervous.

  She hadn’t been nervous while his tongue had been in her mouth…

  It took ten minutes to get to the restaurant he’d chosen. Zane tried to make small talk. “How’s your head?”

  “Fine. Not noticing anything inside, but the two staples itch like hell, as do these stitches. I’ll be glad when I get them out tomorrow. Thank God my doctor has office hours on Saturdays.”

  “And then you’re going back to work?”

  “Yes. Monday. My boss is being very understanding. I know it’s been hard on everyone else having to cover my shifts.”

  “You didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “Not at all. Dealing takes a lot of concentration. My head was swimming for the first few days. I hope I’m completely capable on Monday, or I’m gonna get fired.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do great.” He glanced at her, finding her hands fisted in her lap, pressing on the hem of her skirt. “I’d like to see you deal sometime.”

  She rolled her eyes when he looked at her again. “God no. It makes me very nervous when someone I know comes to my table. Always has.”

  “How long have you been dealing? I thought you just moved here.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve been dealing blackjack my entire life it seems. My dad taught me as soon as I could hold the cards, and then when I was twenty-one, I started working at a casino in my home town.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Tunica, Mississippi.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you know how to gamble.”

  “Yep. Interestingly enough, my father doesn’t gamble. He’s
never been inside a casino. But he loves blackjack. Has always played it for fun with poker chips.”

  “Funny. And your mom? Do your parents still live there?”

  “Yes. They’re older. They had me late in life. I never went to college because by the time I was eighteen, they needed me more at home. My dad retired from working an assembly line before I graduated high school. My mom doesn’t get around well anymore. So, I did what I knew best and worked at a casino. I lived at home. Three months ago my parents told me it was time for me to spread my wings. I was terrified at first, but they sold the house and moved to a retirement community, giving me no choice.”

  “What made you decide to come to Vegas?”

  “Who wouldn’t?” She giggled. “It’s so beautiful here. The weather is awesome. The cost of living is low. And I make way more money dealing here than I did in Mississippi.”

  “Did you ever think about going back to school?”

  “Uh huh. I started taking classes online a few years ago. It’s a slow process that way, though. I thought I wanted to be an English major, but after several classes, I realized what I really wanted to do.”

  “And what’s that?” he asked as he pulled into a spot at the restaurant. He turned to face her.

  She had her head tipped to one side. “Hm. I’ve never told anyone. I think I’ll keep it to myself for a little longer.”

  He raised both eyebrows and grinned. “Seriously? A secret life ambition you aren’t willing to share?”

  “Yep.”

  “Intriguing.”

  “I’ll just leave you guessing for a while.” She unbuckled her seatbelt as Zane did the same and pushed his door open.

  “Hang on, I’ll be around to help you down.”

  Abby opened her door, but Zane got there in time to watch her swing her legs around and set her hands on his shoulders to hop down. God, those legs are divine.

  Zane took her hand and led her into the restaurant. Luckily it wasn’t too crowded yet for a Friday night. They managed to get a table quickly. “Do you drink wine?”

  “Love it.”

  “Red? Cab or Merlot?”

  “Either one would be great.”

  The waitress came over, and Zane pointed out a bottle of Merlot. After she left, he leaned on his elbows and soaked in more of his lovely date. “You’re absolutely stunning in purple.”

  “Thanks.” She touched a finger to her forehead. “These stitches really pull the outfit together.”

  He smiled. “They’re hardly noticeable. You look perfect.”

  “I talked your ear off. Tell me more about you.”

  Zane shrugged. “I’m not nearly as interesting, to be honest.”

  “That’s impossible. What little I know about you makes you more interesting than anyone I’ve ever met.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know a single MMA fighter, for example. Nor have I met an EMT. And definitely no one who practices BDSM. So, every aspect of you is new and fascinating.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, I sound kind of cool.” He pumped out his chest in mock exaggeration. “But really. I’m from here, born and raised. I have a sister. She’s two years older. Mari. She’s married and has one daughter.”

  “Ah, your niece. The one who likes bubble baths.”

  “Yes. She’s a gem. Love that little stinker.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Four.”

  “When did you start fighting?”

  “I’ve been fighting for about six years.”

  “You’re so…buff.” She wove a hand through the air, encompassing all of him. “How can anyone compete against you?”

  He smiled. “Well, all the fighters are about like me. If not, they’d get crushed. I work out a lot.”

  “I’m sure.”

  The waitress returned with their wine and then read off the specials for the night. Zane easily chose one, and Abby surprised him by also selecting from the verbal list. Neither of them had opened a menu. The waitress took their menus back and promised to return shortly with salad and bread sticks.

  Zane lifted his glass and took a sip. “Mmm. It’s good.”

  Abby did the same. He watched her tip the glass back and set it on her lips, wishing he was that glass. The way she drank the wine was like an art form. Her tongue reached out to lick her lips before she took a drink, making him squirm in his seat. “Can I watch you fight sometime?” she asked as she set her glass down.

  “Sure. Have you ever watched it on TV?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I’m intrigued. Emily told me about your Fight Club. Do your friends’ girlfriends and wives go to watch?”

  He nodded. “They do, some of them reluctantly and others with enthusiasm.” He wasn’t kidding. “Jenna and Katy aren’t fond of the sport at all, but they occasionally go to support Mason and Rafe. Emily and Kayla, on the other hand, Rider’s and Gage’s significant others, love it. Sabrina is Conner’s fiancée. She also loves watching, but she’s newly pregnant, so she doesn’t come as often right now. She suffers from morning sickness most of the time. I’m sure Emily is coming to the exhibition we’re having tomorrow night. If you want to go with her, she’d probably love the company.”

  “Cool. I’ll call her tomorrow. What’s an exhibition?”

  “It’s a night when we spar at the home gym just for practice. Nothing serious. A good place to check it out. Some of the larger arenas are crowded and overwhelming. Fans of MMA can be very intense.”

  “Maybe I’ll do a little research in the morning so I’m not ignorant.”

  “You can. Emily’s pretty astute by now. She’ll fill you in with a play-by-play I’m sure.”

  “So, do you make money when you win these things?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Not as an amateur.”

  “And you don’t have aspirations of going pro?”

  “No. Though not for lack of interest. I’ve been approached by both legal and illegal venues.”

  “Really?” Her eyes widened. “Illegal?”

  “Underground.”

  “That’s a real thing?”

  “Of course. And around here, there’s a large Russian contingency of underground fighters. I have a few acquaintances who are involved.”

  “Huh. That’s interesting. Russians you say?” She visibly shuddered.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I have a friend from work, Lauren, who’s dating some Russian guy. Made me think of it. Well, dating is perhaps a loose term.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think he’s bad news. In fact, he’s the reason I reacted so harshly to your initial BDSM declaration. Lauren told me he was a Dom. She was all excited at first, but then she changed, quickly. I think the guy’s abusing her.”

  “Shit.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m sorry. That sucks. No wonder you were so skittish. BDSM is not like that. Not even close. Not the kind I practice, anyway.”

  “Yeah. Emily set me straight after you left my house last week.”

  “I’m glad. And listen, yes, it’s a part of who I am. Yes, I would love to introduce you to that side of me, but for now it’s good enough I told you about that part of myself. I’m not going to pressure you in any way. I mean it. Nine days ago, I would have said there was no way I could date a vanilla woman.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I got this call from Rider and found the sexiest legs I’ve ever seen sticking out from under her porch, and everything I’ve ever resolved to hold true evaporated.”

  “You can’t be serious.” She held his gaze, tugging on her hand, but he didn’t release it.

  Instead he gripped her hand tighter and reached for the other one to hold them both. “As a heart attack. And then I crawled under that porch, and knew I wanted to get to know that woman better. Immediately. I had no idea how I was going to go about it, but you made it easy when you walked into Rider’s house a few days later, all cute and sexy, carrying a tray
of cookies, which were delicious by the way.”

  The salads arrived, and Zane was forced to release Abby’s hands to make room on the table. He took another sip of wine, thinking this evening was going splendidly.

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “You don’t seem like a Dom.”

  “Well, I’m controlling that side of me. I’ll be honest. And besides, I don’t think you really have the right idea. Until you see D/s in action, you might have a skewed concept of what’s entailed. Certainly not abuse, like your friend Lauren. Is she still seeing that guy? There are some Russian mafia around here that are bad news.”

  “I don’t know if she’s still with him. I haven’t talked to her this entire week. I texted her after the accident, to let her know I wouldn’t be in, but the only response I got was terse. I’m worried about her to be honest. Seems like she’s in over her head.

  “The guy sent a man to my table once. Last Monday in fact. The day I had my accident. He told me to stay out of his business.” She shivered and then took a long sip of wine. “It was weird.”

  “The guy threatened you?” Zane held his fork midair.

  “No.” She shook her head and then stopped. “Well, maybe. I guess so. I have no idea how he even knew I was involved. That’s the weird part. I talked to Lauren about him earlier that day at lunch and told her I thought he was bad news, but how the hell would he have known that a few hours later while we were both still working? Lauren said she didn’t tell him a thing. I got the feeling he was watching us in the break room somehow.” She shuddered.

  Zane set his fork down. “Do you know his name?”

  She thought for a second. “Something strange. Anton. That’s it.”

  Fuck. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Rider.

  Dude. Abby knows Anton Yenin. He was bothering her at the casino before the accident.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Alerting Rider.” He set the phone down. “Sorry. Go on. My mind is running ahead. Why didn’t you say anything about this guy?”

  She looked perplexed. Her brow furrowed again. “To whom?”

  “The cops? Me? Anyone really.”