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Authors: Sam Crescent

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BOOK: A Fighter's Choice
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Jasper moved behind her, his hands resting on her hips
as he leaned in close. “I fight.”

She frowned, turning to look at him.

“What?”

“How I get the bruises, I fight.” He squeezed her hips
and moved away.

Okay, she had a lot more questions and wasn’t about to
take no for an answer. She finished folding her washing and took her seat
beside him on the bench. “You’re a fighter?”

“Keep your voice down.” He looked over her shoulder,
and she followed his gaze. No one was watching them or even paying attention to
them. The women had long since left in a huff, and Beatrice was playing her
bingo on the ‘net.

“Sorry, you’re a fighter?”

“Yes.”

She looked at the bruising and the state of his
knuckles. “This is not the stuff you talk about in the open, right?” she asked.

“No. Don’t talk about it to anyone.”

“If you can’t talk why do you do it? I mean, how do
you make a living looking like that?” She reached out, touching his face and
turning it this way and that. He caught hold of her arms, stopping her from
moving or touching him.

“People who want to know find out. There’s a ways of
finding everything out providing you know a fighter, or a fighter’s friend.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?” She withdrew her hands while
trying not to think about the feel of his hands on her body. Thinking about his
hands wouldn’t do her any good. She cut off any thought of anything more and
simply stared at him.

“Yeah, it’s dangerous, but isn’t everything.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know all about getting hit by
a bus and shit like that. I’m talking about something else. This is more
dangerous than anything else you can encounter.”

“Every time you leave the safety of your apartment you
can get run down.”

“But I watch where I walk. I take precautions for
everything. What are you doing? You’re looking for fights. You’re willing to
put your life at risk every time you go for a fight.”

“There are rules.”

“Not that many, clearly,” she said, and he gave her a
pointed look. “What? It’s true. You’re the one with all the bruises, not me.”

“You could get raped or hurt where you work.”

“I
know,
which is why I have
my pepper spray and I grow nails. I’ve learned if you’re willing to gouge their
eyes out, they’ll keep far enough away from you.” She leaned away, staring at
him. “You like it?”

“Yes, I like it.”

“That makes you kind of creepy.”

“There are a lot of chicks who are into it.”

“I imagine there is more than enough pussy to fuck.
Some groupies never grow up.”

“Have you ever wanted to go?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Watching men beat the shit out of
each other is not what I consider fun.” Her washing machine finished, and she
left him alone. She checked the dryer before starting up a new machine. Wow, a
fighter and from the looks of him, a savage fighter. Just looking at him scared
the shit out of her at times. Still, it was nice to talk to the handsome man
who lived across from her.

Chapter Three

 

Flipping his cell phone in the air, Jasper caught it
with his other hand. Three days had passed since his encounter with Amber
across the hall. He saw her when he went out at night, but they’d not spoken
anymore. She would smile at him in a way that made him think she was imagining
something funny. He didn’t know if he liked it or not.

Last night he’d walked to the
titty
bar she’d been talking about and stared at the sign. Did he even want to go
inside? Instead of going in and checking it out, he’d walked back to their
apartment to wait outside. Amber had
arrived
a couple
of hours later in her rundown car. She climbed out, took a couple of seconds to
stare at him,
then
spun on her heel to make her way up
to her apartment. He followed behind her, taking as much time as possible to
get to his own door.

What was going on between them? He didn’t know the
correct answer to the question or what he should do about it. Glancing at his
phone, he groaned. He was waiting for a call. The same call he’d been expecting
all day. It had been a couple of days since the last fight and he usually left
it a good week before he went back into the ring, but he needed to pummel
something.

A knock at his door disrupted his thoughts. Getting to
his feet, he walked the short distance and opened the door to find Amber on the
other side. She held a pot in her hand and a smile.

“Hey you.
I don’t suppose you’ve got some sugar?” she asked, waving her pot
underneath his nose.

He glared at her feeling the heat fill his cock at the
sight of her. What was it about this woman that she wouldn’t leave his
thoughts?
“Sugar?
You’ve come to my place for sugar?”

“I’m out.” She lifted the lid on the pot to reveal how
empty she actually was. “See, nothing and I’ve got to have sugar in my coffee
otherwise the world is a very shit and horrid place. Please, don’t let me go
without sugar.” She stuck her lip out, staring up at him with tears in her
eyes.

“You’re playing me.”

Her smile bloomed, and the tears were batted away. “I
knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Jasper continued to stare at her. “You’re strange, you
know that right?”

“This coming
from the guy who gets paid to take a hit or two in the line of his work?”

“I get paid a lot of money to be a punching bag.”

“So, it doesn’t make it any less strange.” She didn’t
look anywhere else but at his face. A lot of women he was around would look at
his body, stroke a hand down his chest, try to lure him in. Amber wasn’t doing
anything, simply insulting him.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t do whatever was
necessary for money?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It would depend on what that something
was.”

He leaned against the doorframe, waiting.

“You want me to list some of the crap I wouldn’t do?”
He nodded. She blew out a breath, ran fingers through her hair, and then looked
back at him. “Fine, I wouldn’t jump off a cliff for a million dollars, spend
the night in a haunted house, go to prison, kiss a frog, or suck an infected
dick. Is that good enough?”

He tried not to laugh but failed miserably. “Suck an
infected cock?”

“You didn’t exactly give me any parameters of what we
couldn’t or couldn’t do. You’ve got no chance of me doing anything for money.”

“What about working in a strip club?”

“Okay, you won’t see me doing anything extra when I
earn enough money to keep myself in food and gas.” She held up her pot. “Well,
are you going to give me sugar or not?”

In the last few minutes he’d had more fun than he ever
remembered. “You’re strange and weird,” he said, leaving a gap for her to enter
his apartment.

“You’re letting me into your space?” She stepped over
the threshold. “Well, I’ve not been plummeted into hell, so I guess it’s safe.”

He closed the door, leaning against the wood and
watching her. She was a beautiful woman, strange yet beautiful.

“Is staring a thing for you?”

Smiling, he left the door and stepped toward her. She
didn’t take a step back. He got right up close to her, feeling the heat of her
body. She wore one of those baggy shirts that covered her body leaving
everything to his imagination. He wanted to reach out and touch her but forced
himself to hold back. It would be so easy to give in to what he wanted.

“Why do I feel something else is going on here?” she
asked, looking up at him.

The world fell away for him. He stared down into her
eyes then down to her mouth. Her lips looked plump and inviting. He wanted to
kiss those lips and sink his tongue into her mouth. Would she be fiery in bed
or demand respect with the curtains drawn, the lights off?

Why are you thinking about her like this?

His cell phone went off interrupting their moment.
Jasper took his time accepting the call. He didn’t move away, invading her
space.

“Yeah.”

“We’ve got a fight tonight. I know you like time
between fights, but I thought you’d like first refusal,” Steve said.

Looking at the woman before him, Jasper knew he needed
to blow off steam. “Who is it against?” he asked.

“Drake Hound, he’s pretty good. Rarely loses but
leaves his opponent bloody.”

“Fix it up, I’ll be there tonight.” He closed the cell
phone staring at her.

“You’re fighting tonight?”

“Yeah, I need to hurt something.”

He took her jar and forced himself to move away.
Filling up her jar, he noticed the chip in the side. The jar was old. “Is this
a family heirloom?” he asked, returning to her.

“Probably for
someone.
I got it from the thrift store. Take care, have fun.”
She started making her way toward the door.

“Do you want to see me fight tonight?” he asked.

The words left his lips before he could stop them.

She smiled at him. “Watch a couple of men get all
naked, sweaty, covered with blood?”

“You’d be surprised how hot it gets.”

Amber chuckled. “I’m working.” She opened his door ready
to leave. He admired the curves of her ass. She turned back. “Blood doesn’t do
it for me or broken bones. Sweat does though. You need to get sweaty to make it
worth it.”

She left him alone imagining her all sweaty from sex.
Yeah, there was some fire in Amber, even if she was strange.

****

Popping her gum, Amber glanced down at her watch
seeing she still had three hours left of her shift. Brooke was on stage,
shaking her ass and tits at any man’s face. The girl was good, and if Amber was
a lesbian she’d totally go for that. Chewing the peppermint gum, she looked at
the man practically salivating at the sight of Brooke.

Amber kept her arms folded waiting for the next
customer to approach the bar.

Harold was at the end of the bar staring at Brooke as
she shook her ass. It would only be a matter of seconds before Brooke was
completely naked, showing off her pussy to the waiting crowd. Harold was
Brooke’s husband, and Amber didn’t have the first clue as to how the two
continued their relationship. From the look on Harold’s face, he loved every
second of the men watching his woman.

There was no jealousy, possessiveness but not
jealousy.

A guy in a business suit approached the bar, and she
stepped away and offered up a smile.

“Hey, darling, I’ll have a shot of your best liquor.”

Turning her back to him, she grabbed a glass and
started pouring some whiskey into the shot glass.

“Here you go.” She told him the cost, took his money,
and handed him back the change.

“You’re a beauty. How come you’re never up on the
stage?” the guy said.

Heat filled her cheeks. He wasn’t the first man to ask,
and he wouldn’t be the last. The men who frequented the bar were always damn
greedy wanting more women.

“Someone’s got to serve you fine gentlemen. I’m your
girl.” She leaned on her hand, thrusting her chest out exactly how Harold had
told her to. Harold owned the nightclub. He could be an asshole at times, but
he knew what to do for his staff to get the extra tips.

Business guy looked at her chest, and smiled. “Well,
the
moment
you get on stage let me know.” He handed
over a card. “I’d love to see you there and maybe afterward.”

Big no.

Hell no.

In fact, don’t go there. No one ever got to see her
after work.

“Sure thing,
baby.”
She pocketed the card, like Harold told her to.

“Do you have a boyfriend waiting for you back at
home?”

Amber smiled. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” For some
reason she thought about Jasper but cut the thought immediately.

“That’s a shame. Something tells me you’re not going
to be alone for long.” The businessman had been coming around for some time
now. She didn’t know his name, and he hadn’t shown much of an interest until
now. He grabbed his drink, making his way back to his quiet table in the back. When
the business guy was far enough away, she pulled the card out, fisted it, and
threw it in the trash without even looking at it.

“Good girl,” Harold said, coming to stand beside her. She
looked out at the dance floor to see Brooke gone.

“Crowd loves her,” Amber said.

“That they certainly do. I’ve got the bar if you want
to head back and help her out.” Harold offered for her.

Any chance she got of leaving the main club, she
always took. She ducked under the bar and headed toward Brooke’s changing area.
Unlike the other women, Brooke had her own room.

BOOK: A Fighter's Choice
11.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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