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Authors: Sam Crescent

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BOOK: A Fighter's Choice
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She shuddered, throwing the soiled pants into the
basket with the rest of her clothes. Tomorrow she’d be down at the launderette
to clean her weekly washing. She waited for the water to get warm before
climbing in. The apartment block wasn’t the best place in the world, but it
certainly wasn’t the worst. Hot running water all day every day was too much to
ask for. She quickly washed up, thankful the night was hot. In the winter she
was always tempted to shower with her clothes on.

Once she finished, she turned the water off, climbing
out to grab a towel. She dried her body first,
then
finished drying up her hair as she walked toward her bedroom. Amber turned her
bed down and climbed under the covers without bothering with any clothes. She
hated wearing any nightclothes. Reaching toward the drawer, she opened it and
tugged out the crime book she’d gotten out of the library last week. She didn’t
own a computer or an e-reader, so she settled on the good old fashioned library
to keep her entertained. She wasn’t in the mood for the television. The news
only ever reported the bad shit going on in the world. If all she wanted to
hear was the bad she would look outside of her window at the city streets. Bad
shit went on around her all the time. There was nothing she could do about the
bad shit, so she simply lived with it all day every day. The life she’d made
for herself was something more than she thought she’d ever have.

Opening up the book she started to read where she’d
left off earlier before going to work. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed her.

Chapter Two

 

Jasper carried his clothing down the apartment stairs.
It was morning, and already the stairs had several kids dotted up and down the
staircase. There were so many of them, but he made sure he didn’t step on them.
Screaming kids were not something he wanted to be listening to for the
foreseeable future. Once outside in the fresh air, he walked down the street,
passing people as he made his way to the launderette. He wasn’t into wasting
money on throwing out clothes and buying new when he could wash them. Also, he
couldn’t get his grandparents’ teachings out of his mind. They’d owned a ranch,
and while staying with them, he’d had no choice but to do everything himself,
which he loved. He used to love visiting his grandparents. It was his only
regret in giving into the need to fight.

He ignored the appreciative gazes from passing women. Even
with his bruised face, they wanted him. He’d never get women. They were too
fucking strange for him, but they were useful for one thing, sex. He always had
plenty of time for sex.

Entering the launderette he was met with the heat of
the machines. He walked past the women chattering together, who had quieted
when he entered the shop. Jasper took his usual post at the back of the shop
toward the spinner in the corner.

He paused as he saw the girl from his apartment
building sat across from where he usually did his washing with her legs
crossed. She wore a pair of jeans with a plain red shirt that revealed nothing.
Compared to her clothing last night, she looked tame.

Walking past her, he was surprised when she didn’t
even look up. Most women paid attention when he was in the room or even
entering. He frowned as he thought back to last night. All she’d said to him
was “ouch”. That didn’t mean anything. They rarely bumped into each other or
spoke. He passed her by and placed his washing on the bench. She had some
headphones on, and music blasted from her ears. None of the music made any
sense to him, and he didn’t recognize it.

She turned the page of her book, wriggling her foot as
she did. He threw the dark clothing into the open washing machine, trying not
to watch her. She didn’t pay any attention to him. One song moved into another,
and he continued to throw more clothes into the washing machine.

“You’re going to turn that grey,” she said, lifting
her gaze from the book to him.

“What?”

“You just threw in a white shirt with all those darks.
Your clothes are going to come out a mess.” She stood up and started toward
him. He watched as she reached into the washing machine and tugged out the
shirt he’d thrown in without watching. Wait, how did she know what he’d thrown
in unless she’d been watching him? He stared down at the shirt she placed in
his hand then at her retreating back.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” She put her headphones on once again and
started humming out of tune to whatever song was playing. He closed the door to
the washing machine and moved away to pay for the washing powder. The woman on
the counter tried to flirt with him, to draw more out of him.

It took him a good five minutes before he got a chance
to get back to his clothes. He found his neighbor chuckling while he poured the
powder into the compartment of the machine.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, annoyed, but
again, he didn’t know why.

“You should have seen your face with Beatrice flirting
with you. You looked like you’d been caught with your hands in the till or
something.” She continued to laugh. “Don’t take it personally. She flirts with
everyone, and you’re cute.”

She finished putting her washing into a basket and
finally stared up at him. Her hazel eyes captured him once again, making it
hard for him to look away.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “She’s always
like that.”

“I know. You’re the only guy here today. Last week,
you should have seen her with another guy. I don’t know his name, but he’s yet
to return.” She passed him and started putting the soaked washing into the
spinner. He sat down and watched as she bent down to pick up her loose change
that had fallen. The jeans went a little tighter over those mounded globes.
Fuck, he was rock hard, and he didn’t have any way of covering up the evidence.
Placing his hands in front of him, he watched her turn and start walking back
toward her book. Her tits had a nice jiggle to them as she walked. He couldn’t
tear his gaze away from her.

She took a seat, placing one leg under the other as
she picked up her book.

The scent of lemon hit him, and he noticed the smell
came from her. It was a nice refreshing smell that had his mouth watering. He
tapped his thigh, wishing his cock would deflate or something. Leaning his head
back against the wall he started to remember the fight last night. Each punch
and kick a reminder of what he needed to do to stop
himself
from getting hurt next time. He loved to fight, but he didn’t actually have a
death wish.

“Do you like running into fists?” she said, causing
him to jump. Her voice was right next to his ear.

Opening his eyes, he glanced to the side to find her
inches away from his face. Her gaze was on his bruises, assessing them.

“I didn’t run into any fist.” He liked her gaze on
him.

“Really?
Are you a wimp, or did the other guy come worse off?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asked.

“Not really. My book is finished, and I’m bored. It
was a lame ass ending, and now I’m pissed I wasted time reading it.” She
frowned. “You live opposite me, right?”

She hadn’t even noticed they were neighbors? Okay, his
ego was taking a serious beating now.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Whoa, watch the attitude.” She held her hands up in
surrender.

What was with this woman?

“I’m Amber,” she said, offering her hand.

“Jasper.”

“Love the name, neighbor.”

“Do you really not recognize we’ve been living across
from each other for over a year?” he asked.

She smiled and completely blew his mind. Amber was a
beauty and weird, completely weird. He saw something in her gaze, though.
Something sweet that made her off limits to him.

“I was yanking your chain or whatever. I know who you
are. Okay, I didn’t know your name, and you’ve got that whole scary thing going
on about you. I didn’t know if I’d come out one night and see you escorting
dead bodies or something.”

He frowned. “What?”

“You’re always covered in bruises, and you’re always
frowning.” She frowned back at him. “Like that, you’re pretty scary. I wanted
to make sure you weren’t going to kill me.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I know.” She placed her hands back in her lap. “It’s
nice to finally meet you, Jasper.”

The spinner stopped, and she got to her feet to deal
with it. What the hell had just happened? More importantly, why was he so damn
happy she just spoke to him?

****

Placing the clothes into the dryer, Amber glanced over
at Jasper to find him staring at her. He was a strange man, and she didn’t know
if it was a good strange or a bad strange. Either way, he confused her and
intrigued her. She’d never met a guy like him, which again was strange seeing
as she met a lot of guys. He was very secretive, never giving anything away.
She’d noticed him living across from her. Amber wasn’t stupid or blind. She knew
he was a hot piece, but he was a scary hot piece. She’d never liked her men to
come with the fear of being killed midway through sex.

She took her seat next to him as her clothes started
drying.

“You keep staring at me,” she said.

“So?”

“How did you get the bruises?” she asked, liking his
attitude and annoyed with him at the same time. He looked like the kind of man
who took what he wanted and didn’t give a shit about who he hurt in the
process.

“What do you do at night?”

“Work.”
She answered without hesitation. Amber had noticed he arrived back to
the apartment block around the same time as she did.

“Where?”

She smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“You’re not a whore, are you?”

Amber burst out laughing. She really couldn’t control
herself.

“What?” he asked, frowning
again.

Reaching out, she pressed a thumb to his forehead.
“You’ve got to stop frowning otherwise you’ll end up with wrinkles.”

“No, seriously.
Where do you work?”

“The
titty
bar with the
glaring red and blue sign with the picture of a woman glowing on the window.”
She watched the shock appear on his face. It was so funny to see.

“Wait, you work at the strip club?”

“Yep.”

The washing machine beeped. “You’re ready,” she said,
pointing at his washing machine.

She watched his fine ass get up and start to do
exactly what she just did. Her own washing machine was still going with all of
her whites. Packing the paperback book into her bag, she smiled at his
expression. She’d caught him by surprise with her profession.

Minutes passed, and she watched his thick arms load
the washing machine. The heat was getting to her, and she already felt the
perspiration sliding down her back. He was large and muscular. Those bruises
were not down to him being a coward or a wimp. There was something more to him.
She didn’t know what it was, only that he continued to intrigue her even though
he didn’t talk about himself.

He joined her minutes later.

His hair was messy like he didn’t brush it when he
rolled out of bed this morning. She stared into his blue gaze and wondered what
he was thinking.

“You’re a stripper?”

She smiled. “I never said I was a stripper.”

“What are you then? Only strippers work in a strip
club.”

“Then you’ve not been to a lot of strip clubs. There
are a lot of jobs out there for women to do.”

“Not in a strip club.” His hands were fisted on his
legs. Was he angry?

“No, I don’t strip. I serve drinks and tend to the
bar. I couldn’t strip.” She released
a snort
thinking
about the prospect of stripping.

“Why couldn’t you strip?” he asked.

“There are so many reasons why I couldn’t strip.” The
very thought made it difficult for her to contain her giggles.

“Name them.” He folded his hands over his chest,
glaring at her.

“One, I can’t wear heels. Seriously, I struggle to
wear them. It’s a disaster. Two, have you seen the pole they expect you to
dance around? Three, I can’t dance. I look like a flapping duck mixed with a
pig on stage. I cannot make this body look sexy to save my life.”

“You’re not fat.”

He was being really sweet. She squeezed into a size
sixteen and hadn’t gotten cellulite yet, but she knew it was coming.

“I didn’t say I was.” She looked back at him aware of
his gaze on her body. She liked the feel of his eyes on her too much.

The dryer started to make a beeping sound, and she got
to her feet. This was for a different machine, as she had been here sometime
before him. For the next few minutes every time she looked toward him, she saw
his gaze was on hers. She folded her clothing as he placed his clothing into
the dryer beside her.

BOOK: A Fighter's Choice
11.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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