by Unknown
Izzy pushed the front door open and shut it behind her with her foot. With both hands filled with shopping bags, that small task had been a bitch. She carried the bags into the kitchen and set them on the counter. A blast of body heat slammed into her back, and she looked over her shoulder. A gasp left her when she saw Brock standing right behind her.
“Hey.” Griping onto the counter she waited for him to reply, but all he did was stare at her. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He looked at the bags and then back at her. “Need help?”
She turned around, but regretted it instantly when he took a step closer. Was he drunk? He smelled like he had been drinking, but it wasn’t overly strong and disgusting. It was a sweet aroma, but she couldn’t place what type of liquor it was. “You really want to help?”
“Of course.”
He leaned forward, and just as their chests brushed and an insane idea that he might kiss her crossed her mind, he grabbed one of the bags and stepped back. Letting out a deep breath, she turned back around and finished putting things away. When the last can was put on the shelf, she turned around to say thank you, but nothing came out when Brock stood in front of her so fast she was forced to lean back and grip the counter again.
“Brock?” He looked at her mouth and instinctively she licked her lips. Before she could ask him what he was doing, he braced his hands beside her, leaned forward, and pressed his mouth to hers.
Firm. Warm. Soft. Brock’s lips were all those things and more. She realized what alcohol he had drank, whiskey, and it was a tantalizing flavor that heated her further. Before the kiss could get too in-depth, he pulled away. The strange look on his face didn’t make her feel any better, but when he glanced down at her mouth again her heart sped up. It was clear that he wanted this just as much as she did, but he was holding back.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” Even as he said this he was slowly moving toward her. Their lips were an inch away, their breath mingling, teasing.
“Why?” It was a bad idea because things could get hairy afterward, but at the moment she really didn’t care. This seemed like the most logical thing for her to do at the moment. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought of doing this a thousand times before because she had. Those feelings had created a plethora of mixed emotions inside of her. This situation should have felt wrong on so many levels, but it didn’t, and that was what scared her.
Over the last six months she had been able to bury them deep enough that although she still felt them, she was able to hide them around Brock. At least she had thought she did. There had been so many more erotic images that had played in her mind, but even thinking about them caused her to feel overwhelming embarrassment.
“We shouldn’t do this, but I don’t want to stop.” The kiss hadn’t been what she expected. It was slow and almost tentative, but she wasn’t going to complain. It just went against how she had seen him over the last half year. His kiss made him almost seem … soft, and that was how she knew he was holding back from her. Pulling away, she looked into his face. Was he too drunk to know what he was doing? She knew he stuck to a rigorous training schedule, but she also knew some of the fighters indulged in small amounts of alcohol. He looked sober, and she knew enough from living with him that his diet and routine were strict. That was another reason she wanted him so bad, because his self-control was such a turn-on.
Their lips were still so close that if she just leaned in that last inch they would be fused together once more, but she didn’t do that, and instead moved her head away from him another inch. They stared at each other for a second before Brock groaned and closed the gap that separated them, capturing her mouth with his. With his lips on hers again, Izzy closed her eyes and tilted her head, letting herself surrender to him. She put her hands on his biceps, and all that hard muscle tensed right under her fingertips.
His groan of approval sent her senses on fire, and she moved closer, so close that she was no longer leaning against the counter. Their mouths opened almost at the same time, and when her tongue touched his she moaned herself. He speared his hand in her hair and gripped a chunk. There was a sting of pain that heightened her arousal. Tongues pressed against each other, and it was like he was fucking her with his mouth. His heavy panting and her hands on his hard arms were a sensory overload, but before they could take it to the next level Brock pulled away and moved away so fast she couldn’t catch her breath. He started pacing, but she didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say that would smooth out this situation. A twinge of disappointment and embarrassment filled her.
He stopped and looked at her, letting out a deep breath, and then running a hand through his short hair. “Izzy, I’m…” He went back to pacing, and the awkwardness intensified. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
Izzy held her hand up. She sure as hell didn’t want to hear him say what they had just done was a mistake. Maybe it had been wrong, but she didn’t want to hear it. “It’s okay. Everything is okay.” Plastering on a big, fake-ass smile, Izzy said, “Listen, you had some alcohol, I’m stressed, so let’s just forget it all happened, okay?” She turned and started messing with the paper bag, hoping he left and didn’t make this situation even more uncomfortable. The sound of his retreating footsteps had her closing her eyes and feeling like a fool. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
****
Brock feinted left, then brought his right fist up and slammed it into the red punching bag. Over and over he did this, beating the hell out of it until his muscles ached and sweat poured off him. The training facility was the standard set-up, with a few rings in the center, punching bags hanging from the ceiling, and weights, treadmills, and mats scattered around. He felt like an ass, an idiot, and the biggest fuck-wad in the world. He had kissed Izzy, and then pretty much made her feel like shit. She hadn’t said the words, but those emotions had been clear as day on her face. When he broke the kiss he had felt like he rushed her. The two shots he had taken before she came home hadn’t gotten him drunk, but it had relaxed him enough that he actually made a move on her. He didn’t even drink like that, not with his training schedule, but it seemed he was saying “fuck it” to a lot of things. Before he could tell her that he was sorry for breaking the kiss, and that he wanted so much more with her, she had cut him off, thinking the worst. He hadn’t even bothered to correct her, because he had sensed the hurt and tension coming from her. It was an asshole thing to do, just to walk away, but he had felt like a monumental dick and honestly, hadn’t known what to say to make things right at that moment.
“Brock, wanna play in the ring?” London lifted his tapped up fists in the air and started bouncing on the balls of his feet. His grin was wide, and he was just as sweaty as Brock. Both of London’s arms were covered in multi-colored tattoos, and his blond hair was cut close to his head. Brock had been training for the past four hours, but he didn’t want a break, didn’t want to call it a day until his limbs felt like pudding and all of this extra energy and his arousal left him, well, as much as he could get rid of. Although that seemed like a lost cause, because even whipped right now he still felt that warmth of desire for Izzy moving through his veins.
“Dude, I will as long as you want your ass handed to you.”
London scoffed and tilted his head to an open ring. “Bring it on.”
He followed his friend to suit up with some head gear, and then they both climbed in the ring. A few of the other fighters stopped what they were doing to watch, and even Harlond, their trainer, stopped talking to Sunny, his daughter who also worked at the center, and watched them. Brock focused all of his attention on London. His friend was a killer in the cage. He joked and let loose at times, but he also found in the underground circuit, and was a beast once he got going. He was like a damn machine. Nothing held back, and he was undefeated. London also had a mean side shot that tended to ruin kidneys, but Brock wasn’t too bad himself, and was itching to lay someone on their ass. What better person th
an London?
“You’re a cocky bastard.” Brock grinned at him, and the other man flipped him off. He needed to watch out for those kidney shots, because if London got those in it would bring Brock to his knees and have him pissing blood for a week.
“Yeah, but that is what makes me an animal.” London bared his teeth in a snarl and started bouncing on the balls of his feet again. They circled each other, but Brock wasn’t in the mood for cat and mouse games. He moved quickly but efficiently, and connected his right fist with London’s belly. The fighter grunted, but grinned again and swung out. Brock blocked it and brought his left fist out for a side shot of his own, but London anticipated it and moved to the side. They did this over and over again, each one getting a hit before the other could. More sweat coated Brock’s body, but the adrenalin and endorphins that pumped through his veins made him almost high.
He could see London’s eyes dart to the side, and he knew who was there, knew that his friend had a thing for the forbidden fruit. “Man, if you’re thinking about trying to get with that you might as well cut your own balls off, because you know Harlond will have them as a necklace before you can even speak to Sunny.”
“Fuck you.” London’s anger was starting to come through, and Brock knew he’d struck a nerve. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“No?” They continued to circle each other. “What I see is you checking out Sunny McGrieve, and you know that’s bad news. If Harlond doesn’t get you Mack will kick your ass.” Talk of the Russian fighter who was like Sunny’s big brother had London scowling even more. That was when Brock moved in for the kill. Swinging a right hook, and then immediately a left, he delivered four consecutive hits to London before his friend even got one in. His anger made him sloppy, but it was the type of anger that fueled a guy in a fight. It was the frustrated kind of anger that had a guy not thinking before he swung out. London moved fast and clocked Brock in the side of the head. Immediately his right ear started to ring. The headgear protected the fighters training for the most part, but they could still get knocked out with a perfectly placed hit. Brock stumbled back and shook his head.
All right, end this shit now.
“Come on, pussy.” London rolled his shoulders back and gestured for him to come forward. They trained together, and he knew his friend’s moves as well as he did his own. He was Brock’s best friend, but could still be an asshole. He charged forward, brought London down with the momentum and force of his actions, and wailed on him. After several minutes of London trying to block the moves and failing, he tapped out, and Brock rolled over and onto his back. They were silent for several long moments, their breathing drowning out the sounds of the fighters working out.
“Shit, dude.” Brock’s chest rose and fell with such force he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. “You got sloppy out there, man. If you had focused you could have taken me.” He wasn’t cocky enough to know that the twenty-seven year old couldn’t have brought him down. He was a bit bigger and faster than Brock, but his mind had been elsewhere. Brock had thought about Izzy and the fact he wanted her so badly. Coupled with London’s clear lack of concentration, it had been enough for him to take down his opponent. After a moment London chuckled, all of his anger instantly fading.
“You need to get laid, man.”
Brock pushed himself up and took off his headgear. He looked over at London who was still on his back and breathing just as heavily. His lip was split, but it was clear his friend didn’t give a shit.
“Sorry about kicking your ass.”
London flipped him off but smiled. “Seriously, Brock, we need to get you some pussy, like ASAP.”
“Nah, man.” He could only think about Izzy lately, and about how good she would feel. Just thinking about another female anymore had his damn dick shriveling up in his jeans.
“Come on. If you don’t want a little strange, then at least head over to that new club with us tonight and let lose. Get drunk and maybe that will calm you the fuck down.”
Brock gave London a suspicious look. He held up his hands.
“I ain’t gonna force you to fuck. I don’t even care if your dick falls off form lack of use. I want some pussy tonight, and I figure you’d want to head over there with me.”
He wouldn’t get drunk, because the couple of shots he had and then kissing Izzy had been enough for the whole fucking month. “Yeah, all right, but I’m not going to drink. I had my limit already.”
London shrugged and pushed himself up. Brock noticed him looking over to where Sunny had been, but she had since left. “I’ll meet you there.” London clapped him on the back and stood.
Brock wanted Izzy, and was about to make things right. He might have said he’d wait for her to come to him, but fuck that. He was going to claim the shit out of Izzy, and he’d do it tonight.
Chapter Three
Caleb pulled his truck into an empty parking spot several blocks away from The Rhino Room. It was going on ten, and people made their way down the sidewalk toward the club. It was Saturday night, so that was also a factor in the numerous scantily clad individuals ready to lower their inhibitions and expectations. The three of them climbed out of the truck, and Izzy adjusted her skirt and pulled her tank down so it at least covered her belly.
When Maria had come over, seen her in a pair of jeans and semi tight t-shirt, she had shaken her head, grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. She had then proceeded to rummage through her closet until she found an outfit that she approved of. Izzy wasn’t a small girl by any means, and at a size sixteen she tended to cover up the majority of her skin out of self-consciousness. These were her clothes, but ones she had not worn in a very long time. She felt naked in them, and despite Caleb and Maria praising her on how nice she looked, Izzy still felt exposed in a very uncomfortable way. But this was what she wanted. She was actually surprised they even fit her still. But she wanted to enjoy herself, so she sucked it up, kicked her uneasiness over how she looked in the ass, and lifted her chin. She hadn’t told them about her run-in with Brock, at least not yet. She knew eventually she would tell them, but in all honesty she was embarrassed, especially when he had acted like touching her had been akin to being doused in fire. He hadn’t been able to look at her let alone touch her again after all of that. And here she was, trying to drown her sorrows and pity in booze and good company.
They made their way down the sidewalk with the rest of the clubbers, and when the big neon sign with the outline of a rhino came into view, a little thrill of excitement passed through her, but that died down when she saw the ridiculously long line of people waiting to get in.
“It’ll be hours before we get in,” Maria muttered as she eyed the line, too.
“Oh ye of little faith.” They both looked at Caleb. He tilted his head to the bouncer, and when Izzy got a good look at him recognition settled in.
“Is that Matt?” She looked at Caleb, and he nodded. Matt, a frequent Slippery When Wet customer, was over six feet tall, ripped like a damn tank, and had the deepest, most intense voice imaginable. He was also gay, and came in with his boyfriend to buy an assortment of sex toys and videos. But tonight he wasn’t wearing his trademarked cargos and polo shirt, or his ball cap. He looked like a badass standing there in all black, his expression like a freaking pissed-off hit-man. Izzy considered him a friend, and hoped that fact helped them bypass the hours of wait that was ahead of them.
“Hey, Matt.” The bouncer turned with a scowl toward them, but when he saw who they were a smile broke out across his face.
“Well, shit.” Matt and Caleb clapped each other on the back in the way macho men did, and then Matt turned and enveloped Izzy and then Maria in a big bear hug.
“I didn’t know you were the guard dog for this place.” He pulled back and actually looked sheepish as Izzy continued. “I thought you worked at some kind of accounting firm or something.”
“Yeah, well Brody decided he wanted to work here, and I couldn�
��t let him get thrown to the wolves. I decided to try my hand at being a bouncer. That way I can keep the assholes away from him if they give him shit.” Brody was Matt’s long-term boyfriend, and a little thing. At only five-foot-seven, with the build of a swimmer, Brody looked the complete opposite of the Hulk standing right in front of her.
“Aren’t you sweet.” She nudged him with her shoulder, because for a big, bruising man, he had a soft spot for his lover, and the strength to protect him above all else.
“Shh, don’t let that shit get out.” He winked and unhooked the rope for them to enter. “Have fun, kids.” They waved and entered the dimly lit, slightly smoky club. The Rhino Room wasn’t set up like most dance clubs. On one side there was more of a sports bar feel with pool tables, leather couches, and big screen televisions. The neon-lit bar took up one whole wall, with bottles and bottles of liquor lined in front of the mirrored shelves. One the other side of the club had more of a retro feel to it with the hanging go-go dancer cages, a few tables spread out, and a polished dance floor right below a spinning mirrored ball. Bodies writhed to the fast paced beat, but before Izzy could stare at their sexually suggestive moves for much longer Maria had a hold of her hand and was leading them through the thick throng of bodies to one of the empty tables.
“What do you want to drink?” Caleb yelled over the music, and Izzy shrugged. “I’ll just get you something strong.” She nodded and watched him move to the bar. Maria sat beside her and leaned in close to her ear.
“This place is insane.”
All Izzy could do was nod in response as she people watched. The women wore clothes that were the size of Izzy’s underwear, and some of the guys even had their shirts off. The scent of sweat, spilled beer, and sex filled the air, but for some reason it wasn’t a disgusting combination, and was even electrically charged.
They sat there for nearly ten minutes, and still Caleb was at the bar. But judging by the number of people packed in here, and the fact all of them were thirsty, she expected the wait to be that long.
