Fighting For The Forbidden: Worth The Fight Series

by Love, Frankie

  “C’mon,” I say, and now I take his other hand. I hold it tight. I feel him stiffen as I do. His hands are callused, but they're big and he holds my hand. He doesn't let it go. “Come on, Titus. Right in here.”

  From my jean jacket, I pull out my keys and unlock the back door of Grandpa's gym, Dominant Alpha Gym.

  “An MMA gym?” he asks surprised.

  “Yeah, it's my Grandpa Teddy’s.”

  “Marco was one of his fighters, I take it?” Titus asks, catching on.

  “Yeah. He was one of the best.” I swallow, looking back at him. “Wait, you’re not a fighter, are you?”

  “You won’t find me in a ring,” he says gruffly. “I did what I had to do tonight to keep you safe. That’s the only reason I raised my fists. I wouldn’t have otherwise.”

  I give him a hard look. “Good.”

  Titus nods, not saying anymore as we walk into the gym that holds all my best childhood memories. I grew up in this place helping Grandma Maria in the office. She’s always done the bookkeeping and when I was little, I would organize the Post-it notes and sharpen the pencils. I would leave messages for Grandpa Teddy on the whiteboard. XO XO, TINK.

  I would sweep the floors, watching the fighters train. Dreaming, just like Grandpa, of the next big fight, the next big win. Always choosing my favorite fighters.

  But I made a rule when I was old enough to start dating. I could love the fight itself… but I would never love a fighter.

  Too risky. I’ve seen too many fighters lose their lives to the ring, to the damage done inside. I’ve already lost my parents. I don’t want to lose the man I love too.

  I flip on the light in the back room, and I tell Titus to sit on a workout bench as I get out antiseptic cleaner, bandages, and an ice pack.

  He sits on the bench and I kneel before him, taking his hand in mine, I dab the alcohol on his bloody knuckle, cleaning him up. I do it quietly and there's something tender in our silence. I feel Titus looking at me, watching me. Cleaning him up involves motions I've done a thousand times; cleaning up a fighter after he's made a mess of himself in the ring at practice is almost a habit, but it's never fraught with this kind of tension, requiring this kind of focus.

  My hands shake as I wrap the bandage around Titus’ hand. I swallow hard, wanting to look up at him but scared of what I know will happen when I do. I won't be able to look away.

  Finally, he breaks the spell. “I like your outfit,” he says, his words not ones I was expecting.

  “Yeah?” I ask with a nervous laugh, securing the white tape on his hand. I have on black combat boots, fishnet stockings, a glittery green dress that brushes my thighs and a black jean jacket.

  “Yeah. You have this whole bad girl thing going on. I dig it.”

  “You like bad girls?” I ask him.

  He smiles, and I lick my lips, breathing him in. Whiskey, leather, sweat, and blood. Familiar and dangerous. It’s intoxicating.

  “I have a feeling you're not as bad as you let on,” he says. His voice is gravelly and low, filled with grit and a hint of glamor. Where does that come from? His confidence.

  “What makes you think that?” I ask, my voice haughty, pushing my shoulders back. I lift my chin and our eyes lock.

  It’s as electric as I imagined it would be. My breathing shallows. God, I want this beast of a man.

  “I don’t think bad girls are quite so sentimental about gyms. Or about grandpas, and about thanking a man who came to her rescue. Bad girls don't carry pixie dust with them. And you, Tink, have an air about you.”

  “I have an air about me?” I ask. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, there's something about you, Tink, that won't let me look away.”

  “Then don’t,” I challenge him, still kneeling before him. “Do you want to look away?”

  He shakes his head. “No, Tink. I want to lean in. But I'm telling you once I do, I’m not sure I’ll be able to let go.”

  I take his hand, pressing it to my cheek. “Then hold on tight, Titus, because it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

  Chapter Three

  Titus

  Her voice is rough, yet soft, so full of want that my balls could burst. I can see from the look in her eyes, the inflection of her words, that she wants me to take her. She wants to go wherever I lead.

  “Don't make me beg,” she says, reading my eyes.

  She’s unlike any woman I've ever met, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't met a lot. Plenty of women try to get with a national champion, but I've never seen a woman quite like Tink.

  She's soft and strong and as she looks at me now, it's clear she knows what she wants. My cock is rock hard, my knuckles have bled. This night is not what I expected, but hell, what part of life has been?

  I lean in, drawing her close. Holding her cheek, I kiss her soft red lips. I kiss them hard. I kiss her hard enough for her to gasp, to whimper, to draw up from the floor and crawl into my lap. Good, that’s where my baby belongs.

  She straddles me as I kiss her, her tiny little frame making precum drip from my cock, my need to fill her tight little hole so damn strong that I forget about propriety. About being here in an open room, with the lights on. All I can consider is giving Tink what she asked for. She doesn’t want to beg.

  I pull the clasp from her hair and her blonde tendrils fall around her shoulders. I tug off her jean jacket, the straps of her dress falling down, and I kiss her shoulders, her neck. I kiss her ears and her cheeks and her lips. I kiss her again and again and again.

  She unbuttons my shirt, panting as we undress furiously, with abandon, as if we have no idea how long this moment might last. We lose control as skin-to-skin contact becomes more than a flurry of getting stripped down. My hands run up her thighs, pulling down her fishnet stockings, needing her slick pussy against my hand. Needing to please her the way she’s asked for.

  She unbuckles my belt and I press my hand to hers. “You sure you want this?” I ask one more time. Not wanting her to regret this moment.

  “I need it, Titus.”

  I groan in pleasure as Tink takes my cock from my pants. It's big and it's thick. And when she strokes me, I nearly lose my fucking load. It's been a long six months alone in the cabin.

  I lift the hem of her tiny green dress and slip it off over her head, her perky tits in my face, her bare pussy against my cock. I'd go another six months and then another if it all led to this moment here.

  No regrets. Not tonight.

  “Oh, my God,” she moans. The curve of her hips, the narrowness of her waist, her tits that are small enough to be held in the palm of my hand — everything about her gets me hard. Her body, it's small and her figure is so sexy it makes me growl with anticipation. My desire to fill her up, to fuck her, is so damn strong.

  “I’ve never had sex,” she manages to say between kisses. Her fingers run through my beard, her eyes not meeting mine. She runs her hands from my beard to my chest. Tracing the outline of my ink.

  “Never?” I ask. She shakes her head, licks her lips. Damn, they're so sweet. My cock aches but my conscience takes over. “I don't want to be like other guys,” I tell her. “We can take this slow. I can take you out, I can seduce you one fucking date at a time.”

  She shakes her head. “No, I'm the one who started this. I want you to take my virginity. Let me give it to you.” She places her hands on my cheeks staring at me now and, God, it’s as if she already knows there’s no way in hell I could tell her no.

  “Please don't tell me no,” she whispers.

  “I don't want you to look back at this night and wish you’d given your virginity to a man who knew more about you.”

  She runs her hand up and down my big, thick cock. “I can give you more facts if that's what you think I want.”

  I tuck strands of her light hair behind her ear. Yes, she turns me on, but she is also insanely cute. Adorable with an upturned nose, a sense of magic surrounding her. It’s as if anything is possible so long a
s she is in my arms.

  “I'm twenty-one,” she tells me. “I'm a Gemini. I like strawberry ice cream and chocolate cake. I don't like coffee. I drink Diet Coke around the clock.” She lifts a finger to clarify. “Except when I'm drinking apple martinis. Green is my signature color. Obviously. I prefer long walks in the woods over long walks on the beach. My parents died when I was young, so I was never a daddy's girl, but I’m forever a granddaddy's girl.” She bites her bottom lip, thinking. “I don't like bouquets of roses. I'd rather have a rosebush planted in the backyard. Picked flowers die. I want something permanent.”

  “Is that how you view relationships too?” I ask. “You're not into things that last a day, or maybe a week in water. You want things to be rooted in the ground?”

  She blinks, considering. “I think mostly yes. I'm a virgin, which means I don't jump into things quickly. Except for tonight. You are the exception. Different in a good way. You're the kind of guy who does the right thing. You're the kind of guy who can handle a girl who speaks her mind. You're the kind of guy who makes me feel…” She stops talking.

  “Don’t leave me hanging,” I say, transfixed by her. “What do I make you feel?”

  She shrugs. “You make me feel seen.”

  Her words are simple. They're plain and they're more than enough. She's not looking for forever. Sure, but she's also not opposed to the idea either, which is good for me because I can't imagine not having more than one night. I know it's crazy considering my cock hasn’t even sunk into her tight pink pussy, but I already know I can see more than a day with her.

  I can see weeks and months and years on end. I can see a fucking rose garden in our backyard. Damn, my cock wants to give her everything.

  “Too much information?” she asks.

  I shake my head, running my hand down her back, my hands cupping her round ass cheeks. I lift them up, then I lower her sweet pussy down against my rock-hard cock.

  “I don't want to hurt you,” I whisper in her ear.

  “I don't break easy,” she says.

  “I wasn't talking about breaking you.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks as her eyes close. She gasps as she lowers herself against me, inch by inch. I know my thickness has got to make her think twice about this.

  “I don't want to hurt you physically, Tink, my cock is huge and you’re so damn small.”

  She smiles, dropping her head back. “I see,” she giggles, understanding now. “So, you're not worried about breaking my heart? You're worried about breaking my cunt?”

  I chuckle, the sensation of her warmth making me crazy in the best possible way. “Absolutely right. I'm not worried about breaking your heart.”

  “And why is that?” she asks, her arms wrapping around my neck.

  Our bodies joined as one. Her pussy so damn tight, my cock charged. My balls are tight. I'm ready to unload into her sweet channel.

  “There's no way in hell I'm breaking your heart, baby.”

  “You don’t beat around the bush about what you want, do you?” she asks.

  “Too much, too soon?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No such thing as too much. Besides, I’m the one who begged you to fuck me.”

  “In that case,” I say, slowing things down. “Come here, baby.”

  Our foreheads touch and she begins to ride me like the virgin girl she is. Hesitant and slow and I take control, moving her hips in a nice round circle, getting her off nice and slow. Her sweet, slick pussy juice slides down my cock.

  It feels so fucking good to be taken by her. It's been so long, and she makes it all so damn right. I groan as she comes, her back arching, her whimpers turning to moans as she gets off. Her cunt is so slick, her clit rubbing against my cock as I fuck her the way she needs.

  “Oh, God,” she moans. “Oh, Titus.”

  “I'm fucking falling,” I whisper as I come. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull back. She smiles and kisses me again.

  When we finish, she rolls off of me then walks to the bathroom to clean herself up. I pull on my jeans as she begins to slip on her dress. Her toenails are painted green too, and I smile as I learn these details about her. How cute she is, what she likes, what she hates. She twists her hair back up in a bun and every movement she makes causes my cock to twitch.

  “What?” she asks, aware of how obviously I’m staring.

  “I was just thinking that you're fucking adorable.”

  “Why?” she asks, stepping toward me. Kissing me again. “Because I'm small enough to fit in your pocket?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Pretty much.” I pull her to me and kiss her more deeply just as a door opens.

  Tink frowns, pulling away. “Who's there?” she calls.

  I look her over — she looks like she's just been fucked up and down. All I want to do is take her again, but next time it's going to be in a bed at a private location.

  “It's your grandpa,” a voice calls out. Tink's eyes grow large.

  “Oh, shit.” She shoves my flannel shirt against my chest as she tugs down her dress. “Get dressed. It’s my grandpa.”

  Her grandpa rounds the corner and he takes us in. I'm sure as hell it smells more like sex in here than it does sweat, and I see his eyes full of fury.

  “What in God's name is going on in here?” he asks.

  “Um, nothing, Grandpa. I was, I'm just like, uh, helping Titus.”

  Teddy and I take each other in. He's a big guy who’s clearly worked in the ring all his life. Not in the best shape, but he is built like a fighter.

  “Titus actually helped me tonight,” Tink rambles. “It's a long story, but you know Marco, your fighter? Well, he tried to—”

  Teddy cuts her off. Glaring at me, he shouts, “What are you doing with my granddaughter?”

  “Sir,” I say buttoning my shirt and buckling my belt. “Tink was helping me with my hand.”

  “She was helping you with your hand? Is that what you're calling it these days?”

  “Grandpa,” she says, reaching for my bandaged fist. “He got in a fight at the bar and—”

  “I don't care,” Teddy says. “Get outta here.”

  I look at Tink. Tears streak her cheeks and she is so damn torn, it slays me. “Go,” she says. “I’m really sorry, but—”

  “I said go!” Teddy yells. “I made one request, Tink. No dating fighters. They aren’t the kind of men you need.”

  “I’m not a fighter,” I tell him. Not anymore. And I’m certainly not a coward. I can fucking stand up to this man. Defend Tink’s honor. But Teddy's not having it, and Tink shakes her head, covering her face.

  “You were fighting tonight though, weren’t you?” he tosses back.

  “Yes, but it was to defend Tink,” I yell, aware of the fact that me raising my voice isn’t going to win me any points.

  “Titus, please go,” she says.

  I take a hard look at her, hating that it's come to this, but also not wanting to argue with the girl who I can see a future with.

  I shove my feet in my boots and grab my wallet, leaving for the front door.

  “Fine,” I say. “I’ll go now. But I’ll be back.”

  Chapter Four

  Tink

  He’ll be back.

  “Why did you have to yell at him?” I ask, turning to Grandpa. “You don't understand. Titus saved me tonight.”

  “Saved you?” Grandpa Teddy asks. “You don’t understand men at all. Get dressed. You need to get home.”

  “Just listen,” I say. “Don't you trust me?”

  “Trust you? It's not you that I don't trust.”

  “Marco can’t come back here,” I say. “That’s the person you need to yell at. Not Titus.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “I don't want to talk about it,” I say, covering my face with my hands. “You won't understand. I don't understand. Not after what you just did.”

  “Listen to me, Tink. I've been around men like that in my whole life. You'
re too good for him. You say he got in a fight at a bar? Proves my point. The only fights I'm interested in are ones that happen in the metal cage, in the boxing ring, not on the street.”

  “Well, that makes two of us. I don’t want to be with a fighter either. I don’t want to get hurt. But for the record, you are mad at the wrong person. Marco was trying to take advantage of me. He wasn't listening to me.”

  That gets Grandpa’s attention. “What do you mean wasn't listening to you?”

  “He had me pinned against the wall, Grandpa. He wanted to do things to me that things I have never done before. I told him no and he wouldn't listen. I was so scared. I was alone in the back of the bar and then out of nowhere, Titus showed up.”

  Grandpa’s eyes are fierce, his protective streak wild and strong, just like Titus’. I wish he had listened instead of chasing him away.

  “Who is this man, Titus?”

  “I don't really know. He lives in the mountains, I think?”

  “And you thought it would be a good idea to be here alone with a stranger in my gym? He could have hurt you.”

  “But he didn’t. It wasn't like that. I trust him.”

  “You trust him?” Grandpa asks eyes narrowed. “What's his last name?”

  “I don't know his last name.” I swallow, feeling like everything spun out of control too damn fast. “But I think I am falling in love with him.”

  Grandpa groans, shaking his head. “Listen to me, Tink, I love you. But your grandma and I can't stand by and watch you ruin your life.”

  “I wasn't ruining anything. Titus is a good guy and I hate that I even have to explain this to you. I wish you'd trust me.”

  “I don't want to have to repeat myself, Tink. It’s not you that I don't trust. It's those kinds of guys. I told you that you shouldn't be with a guy from the gym anyways.”

  “Titus isn’t from a gym. He told me that. He’s not from around here. He was alone at the bar.”

  “And then he was alone with you in my gym.”