Wreck (Bareknuckle Boxing Brotherhood Book 2)

by Nelson, Cara

  After that they were quiet until they reached the bar. She had overdressed for the venue, but she decided to go with the flow. Shea ordered a bacon burger with onion rings.

  “An excellent choice,” he said. “I’ll have the same,”

  “They have good club soda,” she remarked. “I have an early shift, so I can’t get wasted. But feel free to go ahead without me.”

  “Nah, I’m fine with this.” He indicated his beer. “I just look around this place, and I mean, I love this place, but it’s a dive. I could never take Olive here. I can’t take her anyplace I go except the defense school. My life isn’t fit for a kid. It’s like none of the things I do are good enough.”

  “The things you do are fine. They’re just not child-friendly,” she said.

  “Yeah, but do you see me going to some water park or cheering at a soccer game? Is that who I’m going to become?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with going to the kid’s soccer games, and there’s nothing wrong with skipping them. It’s up to you.”

  “There’s just been so much change in my life. First I gave up fighting—”

  “Eeeeh!” She made a siren noise. “Judge’s ruling is, NO you did not give up fighting!”

  “Okay, I pretended to give up fighting and started the school with Aaron. I live with him and his girlfriend. My mom’s health is so much better. I mean, she was on the road to ruin, and now she’s got the new kidney and we’re aces. And then this kid and dealing with Ashley. I don’t know how to make it all work.”

  “I think you have to make it up as you go along. That’s what most people do,”

  “Yeah, but how?” He placed his hands palms up on the table, as if waiting for an answer to fall into them.

  “I don’t know, Kyle. Do you, like, have a priest or anything you could talk to? I know this is confusing and hard for you, but I’m not your confessor or your therapist. I don’t know what I am, but I’d like to see your A-game.”

  “My what?”

  “Your A-game. The way you’d treat a girl who wasn’t the repository for all your worldly secrets? I’ve seen the defeated boxer and the insecure dad. I wouldn’t mind meeting the fun hot guy.”

  “How am I not the fun hot guy? You think talking about my mom’s kidney disease and my ex-girlfriend isn’t fun?” he challenged. “You don’t know how to have a good time.”

  When she rested her elbow on the table, it came back sticky, so she kept her arms off the surface. She twisted the paper wrapper from her straw and flicked it at Kyle. “Entertain me,” she said cheekily.

  “Well, I thought the bit about the Backstreet Boys was pretty entertaining.”

  “It was, but it’s about your kid. I like your kid, and I’m weirdly honored to be the first one you told about her—”

  “I’m making you uncomfortable.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s that I had a shit day, and this guy died on the operating table, and I was hoping that going out with you might cheer me up.”

  “Oh, shit, lass, I didn’t know. Let’s see if I can muster some charm.”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

  “I may need a bit of my meal to build my strength up for the project,” he teased.

  “Ah, you’re so fragile and starved?” She surveyed his beefy, muscled form ironically.

  “Let’s see…charming, fun…I know! I can tell you about the glory days. I came back from a run in with some illegal brass knuckles in the ring, fought in Vegas, and made the final round. My name trended in the top ten on Yahoo—for an hour and a half, I was ahead of Jennifer Lawrence in searches. Millions of people watched my fight on pay-per-view.”

  “Including me.”

  “You watched that?”

  “Zoe told me to. I was checking out her boyfriend. Your fight was on first.”

  “Couldn’t you have spared my pride and said you tuned in to watch me because I’m a legend?”

  “She told me to watch, and I could see your brother’s cross tattoo. I had it on mute. I was shopping online and glancing up to see if the tattoo was on.”

  “You’re terrible. It’s impossible to charm you if tales of athletic glory don’t move you.”

  “You lost. It’s not glory if you lose. Unless you’re Stallone in that movie you hate, that I’m not supposed to mention.”

  “Ugh.” He took a drink of beer, as if to wash away the mere thought.

  “It isn’t my fault I’ve only seen you lose,” she shrugged.

  “Goddamn, Shea,” he said, setting down his beer hard enough that it sloshed, “give me a fucking break.”

  She narrowed her eyes and studied him closely. There were lines around his mouth she hadn’t seen a week ago, a frown almost of disbelief, when he had seemed such a typically sunny guy.

  “Was that harsh?”

  “Most of what you come out with is harsh. That was worse. I mean, when Ashley called me a loser, it gutted me because she has my kid and that’s what she believes. But you…I guess I thought you liked me a little.” Kyle looked almost impossibly boyish, disappointed when he raised those blue eyes to meet hers.

  “I’m sorry, Kyle. You’re right. That was a nasty thing to say, and I do like you. I guess, I don’t know, I’m a smartass. It’s not an excuse. It’s just a habit. I’ll try to be—more careful with you,” she said, looking down at her burger, abashed.

  “I was thinking you might try to flatter me a bit. Say something about my deltoids, or how my class inspired you to kick the crap out of some jerk in the parking lot.”

  “I thought since I compared you to barbecue chips that time that we were all stocked up on compliments,” she said. “But I’ll give you this—you know where to find good onion rings,”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “So, I’m still waiting to be entertained.”

  “I had a student the other day who asked me to tie her up. She said it was so I could teach the class how to escape from ropes and zip ties and stuff, but she pulled out a scarf for me to tie her up with, and I’m thinking she just wanted me to tie her up and—”

  “Dismiss the rest of the class?” Shea suggested.

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Do the women in your classes often sexually harass you?”

  “Yeah. And don’t slut shame me, either. I’m not asking for it.”

  “I’m not about to, Danny Boy. I’m just saying that the next time some girl tries to hit on you in class, maybe use her to demonstrate some painful self-defense move. Like kick her in the stomach.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Hurting the students is bad for business.”

  “Okay, fine. Be a boy scout, but it’s not funny that they treat you like that.”

  “I thought the thing where she wanted me to tie her up was pretty funny myself, but what’s really not funny is that we have to have a school to teach women how to fight off men. But that isn’t a charming topic. So maybe I should bring up bitch mittens again; you seemed to like that.”

  Shea snorted her club soda, laughing, and had to wipe her face with a napkin. “Well timed, Dolan,” she conceded.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you want that ranch dressing?”

  “No, I’m a ketchup man.”

  “Pass it over. I like ranch,” she said, displaying her empty condiment cup.

  He handed over the dip, and she dunked an onion ring appreciatively, licking off a drip of dressing happily. He was eyeing her in a way that sent jolts of excitement through her. She dropped her onion ring.

  “We could get out of here,” she said.

  “And do what?”

  “There’s lots of options, but I was thinking of seducing you,” she said.

  “Ah, lass, I’d better not.”

  “Is fatherhood cramping your hedonistic style, or have I turned you off women entirely?”

  “Neither. I’m just trying to be less—”

  “Profligate?” she suggested.

  “High-
scoring?” he offered with a grin.

  “I’m sure your score’s pretty high, so what’s one more in the grand scheme of things?” She stood up and brushed the crispy crumbs off her Easy Dress.

  “I like you,” he said.

  “Good to know. Do you like me enough to nail me, or are you going out to pick up someone better?”

  “I don’t want to wreck you, Shea. I know that you—”

  “Love you? Yeah, I do. But that’s not your fault and it’s my problem. Don’t let that stand in the way of a good time.” She said it more brazenly than she felt, a flicker of fear running through her.

  “I wish I was that brave. Never tell my brother, but I’m a coward. I could never say what you just said to me,” he said, reaching across the table and touching her cheek lightly with calloused fingers.

  “So be brave now. Forget your objections and take me home.”

  “Are you pressuring me to have sex with you?” he teased.

  “No, I’m asking you to, Kyle.” she said seriously, taking his hand.

  “I’d be honored to go back to your place, but I don’t want you think—”

  “That it means anything about how you feel about me? I’m not nineteen. I know better. If it means more to me than it does to you, I’ll risk it. It’s easier to keep being a smartass and push you away like that, but I’ll take you however I can get you. I shouldn’t admit that, but it’s the truth.”

  “Then let’s go,” he said.

  “One more thing…you can quit trying to impress me. You impressed me a long time ago, and you keep surprising me every time I see you.”

  “I’m not growing up fast enough, am I?”

  “I won’t be sticking around for your coming-of-age, if that’s what you mean. I just want to get this infatuation out of my system, and I think a fling is the most sensible way to do it.”

  “You’re such a romantic.”

  “I never claimed to be. I date surgeons and pharmacists and drug reps…convenient guys I work with, who are out for a good time. You’re different from them. Maybe that’s why you got under my skin so easily.”

  “If you think sleeping with me will cure the infatuation, I’m sorry to tell you that I’m not that bad in bed. In fact, I’m amazing.”

  “Of course you are,” she said.

  ***

  She could have told him a thousand times he was amazing, tremendous, magnificent. But she was speechless, breathless, and her heart was pounding too hard to speak or listen.

  When his scarred hand brushed her thigh as he unzipped her boots, she bit down on her lip so hard it hurt. She sat on the edge of her couch, body thrumming with anticipation as Kyle took off her boots and knelt between her knees, his fingers trailing up her thighs. She gripped his hips with her legs and coiled her arms around his neck, kissing his mouth, eyes wide open as she watched his eyes darken with lust. His tongue was in her mouth. His hands seemed to be everywhere, teasing her nipples through her dress, brushing along her stomach, sliding up the inside of her thigh to stroke her. When his mouth found the pulse in her neck, she moaned.

  Kyle drew her to her feet and kissed her neck, licking and sucking relentlessly until she was shuddering with desire. Backing away, she shuffled through a drawer looking for a condom, her eyes cloudy with lust. She pushed his jeans down and sheathed his jutting erection, her hand closing around it possessively. Without a word, she looked in his eyes and nodded.

  Her gaze said, Please and now and don’t wait. With his hands under her bare thighs, he lifted her, pushing her back against the wall. Rucking her dress up, he pushed into her with one deep thrust, his forehead against hers, breath coming hot and fast against her bruised lips. As he pulsed within her, she rocked against him, legs wound around his hips, helpless against the onslaught of his powerful thrusts. Her breath came in short gasps as the cold spark of pleasure built with his every movement. Her heart pounded and her throat tightened, a shrill cry escaping her lips as she felt her climax rip through her body. His mouth covered hers, his tongue stroking hers and swallowing her cries as he pushed into her a final time. She felt the shudder of pleasure take him.

  He eased her down the wall, and she crashed against his chest, finding that her legs wouldn’t hold her. He scooped her up and carried her to her bed, stretching out beside her. He kissed her temple, brushing sweaty hair back from her face. Shaken, she forced herself to meet his eyes, the smoldering blue stare unfazed by the explosive coupling they’d just shared. Shea blinked back tears valiantly and tried to think of something smart and saucy to say, but it was too much, too real and emotional for her to make light of it.

  “Can I stay the night?” he whispered against her hair.

  She nodded. “I wish you would. I didn’t think, I mean, I thought you’d just leave…”

  “I don’t want to just leave,” he grinned at her. “We’re not finished. Not by a long shot,”

  Shea kissed him then, saying everything she was afraid to put into words. It had been a mistake, she knew that now, because everything she had felt for him was magnified by that intimacy, until her love for him was less a temporary problem to get over than a forest fire she was chasing with a cup of water. She made a noise that was meant to be a giggle at her absurd metaphor, but it came out ragged, like a sob. He kissed her softly, swallowing that sound, and tugging at her lower lip with his teeth as he eased her dress off of her. She reached over and switched off the lamp, alone with him in darkness at last.

  CHAPTER 7: KYLE

  He woke up alone at eight, in a strange bed with pale pink sheets on it, surrounded by fluffy pillows and watched suspiciously by a stuffed bunny on the nightstand. There was bird wallpaper everywhere, little tiny songbirds on a field of cream. He shook his head to clear it, wondering if he was waking up in a Disney movie. He found his phone in the pocket of his pants, which were on the floor. Seeing the time, he swore and started pulling on his clothes. He had a nine o’clock class to teach.

  Looking around, he saw a sticky note on the lamp by the bed.

  Early shift. I’ll miss you. See you tonight. XOXO Shea

  He’d spent the night at her apartment and woke up by himself to a hugs-and-kisses Post-It note that assumed a standing date. He crumpled the note and let it fall to the carpet. He glanced at the time on his phone, debating whether it was worth the time to take a shower. Then he switched the phone off, shoved it back in his pocket.

  Catching his reflection in the gold-framed mirror on her wall, he stared. Instead of the hard-living boxer he was used to seeing, it was the face of a man who had responsibilities—a daughter, a girlfriend, a class schedule to keep. “What the fuck?” He asked his reflection and stormed out.

  He blew off the class, all his classes. He had no choice. Kyle Dolan was losing himself in some bullshit adulthood soup that had been dumped all over him. Six months ago, he’d been on top of the world, knee-deep in hot cocktail waitresses in Vegas and ready for his first pay-per-view bout. Now he was a washed up fighter teaching women how to kick some mugger in the shins, worrying about child support and whether his girlfriend had a good enough time last night. He was domesticated, a pet terrier on a leash instead of the wolf he’d once been. It was shameful, not at all how a real man lived his life.

  The women he’d screwed, past and present, were lucky to have had the chance to enjoy themselves so much, and any consequent emotions or offspring should be their problem, not his. He should be in the ring, pounding out someone’s teeth and winning money for it, not filling out a time sheet and planning demonstrations at some two-bit fight school. It wasn’t even a fight school—it was a girly learn-to-stand-up-for-yourself bullshit routine, like ballet class or yoga.

  No way was he going to live his life like this, waiting for an ex-girlfriend to give him permission to see his kid, waiting for his girlfriend to spill the secret about his kid to his family. Women were nothing but trouble. He found his way to Swagger as if by instinct, though he hadn’t been there in months. He
saw the owner talking to a supplier out front and he nodded to the man.

  “Neal, how are you, man? Just stopped by to see the boys, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure enough, Kyle. Don’t be long. They’ve got real fighting to prepare for.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Kyle said good-naturedly.

  He entered the familiar club, inhaling the beery, stale-sweat smell that had been so much a part of his youth. From the time he was a teenager, he’d fought in that ring, charmed free drinks out of a series of pretty and indulgent bartenders, shagged ring bunnies, and hung out with his friends talking trash and working out.

  He stopped by the bar, said hi to Maggie, and drank the shot she poured him fondly. He threw back a second one for good measure, and the whiskey was just starting to heat his limbs as he strolled through his old stomping ground. Charlie and Stu were there, along with a couple of new guys.

  “Hey, Dolan,” Charlie said, never breaking the rhythm of his speed rope.

  “How’s it going, Charles?”

  “Good, good. Are you back for more, you bloodthirsty Mick?” he returned.

  “Nah, I heard Donny was in the hospital.”

  “Punctured lung. Kid was fighting good, but that bastard from Philly kicked him.”

  “You can tell Aaron we all jumped the guy after the fight. He was spitting out teeth when he left Mattapan,” Stu laughed.

  “I’ll tell him that. Any big bouts lined up?”

  “Ah, Billy Chang is coming in next month. Big fight for Stu here.”

  “Chang? That don’t sound very Irish,” Kyle said.

  “He’s not, but he’s tough as hell,” Stu said.

  “Chang? What is he, Chinese? Probably about four feet tall,” Kyle said dismissively, enjoying the trash talk with his old friends.

  “Dolan, if you hadn’t gone soft and thrown in the towel, you’d know that Billy Chang is the East Coast champion right now,”

  “What did you say?” Kyle asked, fists bunching up.

  “Come on, lighten up,” Charlie said. “Let’s have a beer,”

  He put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder, and Kyle looked disgustedly at Stu, but went with them back to the bar. They were four shots deep when Stu started mouthing off again.