Brawl (22 page)

I don’t wait for the ref to call an end to the fight or for the gate to be opened. Taking a running leap in Gabbi’s direction, I swing myself over the fence and land at her feet. Holding a hand out to her, I’m rewarded with her immediate acceptance. Nodding at Nate, who’s smirking with pride that his plan worked, as I walk past him, I hear the MC calling for me to come back to the cage. Without breaking stride, I pull my girl from behind me, swinging her into my arms and then lifting her from the ground. Cradling her against my chest, I walk through the crowd as it parts for us, accepting pats on the back and well-wishes. Anyone involved in our underground fight ring knows my history—knows about Mari and Gabe—and they seem to be embracing my decision to move on without comment or censure.

Contentment and happiness fill me when I run my gaze over the light body I’m carrying, a smile curling my mouth when she looks up at me and winks. Her cheeky affection is the final blow to the burning need to inflict hurt that’s consumed me for so long; it flickers and dies, leaving me bursting with nothing but hope.

***

“H
ow do you know where I live?” Turning my truck off, I ignore her question. “I’m not kidding, Hooligan. I fall asleep thinking we’re heading to your house, and wake up at mine. It’s kinda creepy.”

Closing my door behind me, I jog around the front of my vehicle to open hers. I don’t regret what I did—she needed it and I had the means. Gabbi opens her door before I make it to her, rolling her eyes at me when I huff at her impatience.

“Seriously, tell me how?”

I figure she thinks I’ve been watching her or I asked Amy, both of which are slightly sketchy and borderline stalkerish. The truth is probably worse.

“I own the apartment complex.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Gabbi leans back against my truck.

“So that’s why I was able to rent this without references.” Nodding, she mutters something under her breath. Then, she startles me by walking forward and throwing her arms around me. “Thank you so much! I was ready to give in and go back home when the real estate phoned to say that they had a new fully furnished listing that was perfect for me.”

My hands have gravitated toward her ass, and I can feel her pubic bone against my cock. Now’s not the time to turn this sexual, but the sex-starved organ in my pants has other ideas. My dick lengthens and thickens in my shorts, and I know that Gabbi has felt him twitching against her when she giggles and lowers her hand to cup me.

“I could show you how thankful I am, right now. We don’t need to wait until Saturday night.”

Her natural allure is hard to resist at the best of times; coming straight after the adrenaline of a fight and hot on the heels of laying my heart bare it’s fucking impossible.

Using her ass for leverage, I lift her onto my hips and carry her up the stairs to her apartment, lips to lips, her fingers pulling my hair as we devour each other. After separating long enough to open her door, I kick it shut after us and march straight into her bedroom.

I toss her on her unmade bed, leaving her on her back staring up at me while I rip my T-shirt over my head. Crawling onto the bed and straddling her hips, I pin Gabbi’s hands above her head when she tries to remove her own top.

“Stay still,” I growl. “I’m not breaking my promise, but I need a taste to get me through the week.”

Nuzzling her neck, I run my hands up her sides, bringing her top with them. Pulling it over her head, I reach behind her back and unclasp her bra. Her full, heavy tits fall free. I sit back and drink in the sight of them.

They’re better than I imagined—and believe me I’ve tried to picture them more times than I’d like to admit. Perfectly shaped tear-drops with pink nipples that are standing tall and tightly furled. Fucking wet dream material.

My mind tries to remind me that the nipples are a darker shade of pink than I’m used to and her breasts are much bigger than the handful sized pair I worshipped in my previous life. I wait for the usual guilt to set in and ruin the moment. Gabbi senses my hesitation, reaching up to stroke my cheek.

“It’s okay,” her voice is breathy with desire, regret tainting her words. “We can wait. I understand how hard this must be for you.”

It’s wrong, so very fucking wrong, considering the position I’m sitting in, but I feel as if Mari is inside my head, prodding me to make love to the girl beneath me. Her unmistakable lilt rings in my ears, coaxing me to let her go and take what I need to make myself happy without her. Blowing out a deep breath that empties my lungs, I drag in some clean air in an effort to settle myself. Gabbi’s scent comes with it, vanilla just like Mari used to wear. It seizes control of my lust, whipping it into a frenzy. She’s nothing like Mari, yet so familiar at the same time, that I feel like I’m coming home.

I’m a sick man, needing my dead wife’s permission to touch the beauty lying beneath me.
When thoughts of her age push into my head, I make a decision. Let go of the past and embrace the future. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m not betraying Mari and I’m not taking advantage of Gabbi.

“Don’t rush an old man.” I try to lighten the mood. “I’m allowed to take my time and enjoy the view.”

A swath of red grows over Gabbi’s chest, travelling up her neck to finally settle on her cheeks. She pushes against my hands. I let her go, only to catch her wrists when she tries to cover herself. My girl is embarrassed. That’s not something I expected after hearing rumors of her past activities from her mother. I should be the one who’s embarrassed, having been with a sum total of one woman in my life.

“Don’t hide yourself. You’re fucking perfect.”

Dipping my head, my mind made up that I’m not running this time. I lavish my tongue around her right nipple, massaging her left breast with my right hand. She’s so responsive, arching her back and chasing me for more when I move away from her.

Moving down her body, I part her thighs with my hands so I can fit between them. Making quick work of removing her boots and unbuttoning her pants, I pull the skin-tight material down her legs, bringing her G-string with them. My breath catches in my throat when I feast on the vision in front of me. 

Tight, toned, and fucking terrific. Describing her body sounds like an ad for a weight loss product. However, I have no other words that fit. She’s athletic and strong with defined muscles and textbook abs, yet still full of feminine curves. Her peaks and valleys tell the story of a woman, not a girl; her tattoos highlighting every limb in a way that showcases her ample assets. I feel like someone delved inside my head, pulling free my idea of the perfect female body, and then designed Gabbi to match.

I can’t stop myself. I need to know if she’s as ready for me as I am for her. With one finger, I rub her clit before sliding my finger between her lower lips. She’s wet, coating my finger with her juices; a moan leaving her throat when I dip my finger a little further. Gabbi lifts her hips to offer me entrance all the way inside her.

I can’t.
Not tonight.
I made a promise to myself that I would honor my own morals and not take her all the way until she’s officially an adult.

Dragging a fingertip up her belly, between the two mounds of her breasts, and then to her full lips, I run her wetness over the bottom lip first, circling my way to her top lip, and then thrusting it into her mouth.

“You’re so ready for me.”

I slide my finger in and out of her mouth so she can taste the truth of my words in a crude mockery of what I’d love to be doing with my cock to her dripping pussy. She sucks it clean, rolling her tongue around the digit and then scraping her teeth down it when I pull it free. It makes me shiver; knowing full well that when I let her take my cock in her mouth it’ll be a moment I never forget.

Trailing the wet finger down her body, I push her legs all the way apart when I reach her pussy and lay between them. Using my shoulders to wedge them open when Gabbi tries to press them closed, I distract her from her objections by firmly running my tongue from her entrance to her clit and back again.

“Oh, Hooligan. Don’t.
I haven’t
...I’m not sure how to...”

Refusing to heed her protests, I continue on my merry way licking her until her inner thighs are shaking and she’s pulling my hair with frantic need. My dick is straining against my shorts, screaming to be pulled free and pushed inside Gabbi. I want to know how she feels from the inside, clamping down on my cock, pulsating around me as I drive her over the edge.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Gabbi screams, her fingers in my hair no longer borderline painful but downright painful as she pulls with renewed intensity. “I think I’m coming.”

I keep going; maintaining the pace of my tongue and adding a finger to stimulate her from the inside. It’s been so long since I’ve done this that her vocal enjoyment is making my ego strut around with its chest out, asking “who da man”.

With a final shriek and a series of painful yanks on my hair, Gabbi falls over the edge. The walls of her pussy clamp down on my finger, her sweet juices flooding my mouth. I lap up every drop, showering her shiny nub with attention until she squirms away from me.

“Stop.” Gabbi’s panting as she pushes herself upright, crossing her legs and pulling her knees to her chest so she can hug them to herself. “I’m too sensitive for anymore.”

The brittle edge to her tone alerts me to her change in mood. Grabbing her, I shuffle us around until my back is against the wall at the head of her bed and she’s sideways across my lap with her warm, naked body pressed against my chest. I run my fingers through her long hair, ignoring my cock when he makes his displeasure at not getting his turn known. Gabbi hasn’t said another word since she told me to stop and it’s scaring the shit out of me.

“What’s wrong?” She mutters something unintelligible in response, moving to get off my lap. I hold her in place and she sighs. “Did I do something to upset you?”

The second the question’s left my mouth; I’m flooded with worry. What if she wasn’t ready for me to take her like that? What if her screams weren’t from pleasure, but from pain? I’m so fucking rusty at this, and I only know how Mari liked it anyway.

What if I’ve fucked this up before it’s begun?

“I thought I’d come before,” Gabbi confesses in a quiet voice. “But I hadn’t.”

My ego rises from his position slumped in the dark recesses of my mind and executes a happy dance. “How do you figure that?”

“Nobody’s ever gone down—” She pauses and waves a hand toward her pussy. “You know, there. Not with their tongue.”

Thinking of her with other men isn’t pleasant. In fact, it makes my eyes narrow and the vein in my neck throb. I want to track down every one of them and kill them with my bare hands. Visions of ripping heads off and stomping on them distract me from her next words.

“I feel like shit now. I tricked myself into thinking that I was getting what I wanted from them but I wasn’t. I was giving and getting nothing in return.”

My eyebrows pull together as I try to understand what she’s saying. It dawns on me that she’s having a crisis of confidence.

“Gabbi, for purely selfish reasons, I’m happy as a pig in shit that you’ve never come for anyone else. Doesn’t mean that you gave yourself away for nothing, though. If you enjoyed it at the time, then that’s all you need to concentrate on.”

Ducking her head into my neck, I give her a minute to process what I’m saying. This isn’t a conversation I want to be having right now—who wants the woman who’s pussy you’ve just eaten thinking about her previous partners—although it gives me an insight into Gabbi that’s fascinating. Her sex-kitten persona is an act; a woman who’s truly as open about sex as she pretends to be wouldn’t even give this a second thought. It’s a sobering thought, knowing that I might have a higher level of innocence to deal with than I’d initially assumed.

The words “dirty old man” reverberate around my skull. Shit, my morals are going to be a major sticking point if I don’t find a way to make peace with this.

“How did your wife and son die?”

Her whisper question comes out of left field. My mind—and cock—are stuck firmly on sex and she’s moved onto a topic that makes my dick shrivel. Running my left hand through my hair, I consider not answering. Thinking about it hurts like a motherfucker; saying the words feels like removing teeth without anesthetic.

“They were shot in a gas station hold-up. Mari tried to fight her way out to protect Gabe which drew their attention to her. She was raped and then shot in the head. My son was shot after her. The robbery was revenge for a drug deal gone wrong with the cashier. He was killed, too. An old lady who hid in the bathroom was the only survivor. She said that if Mari hadn’t fought, they wouldn’t have died.”

Gabbi has fallen stock-still in my arms, her breathing shallow. Lifting her head to look at me when I stop speaking, I discover that her amber eyes are glassy and her bottom lip is shaking. Debating whether to continue with the rest of the miserable tale, the choice is made for me when she asks, “That’s why you refuse to train women? Mari was a fighter, like you, and you blame yourself for teaching her—”

“If I hadn’t taught her, she wouldn’t have tried to fight her way out. It’s my fault that they’re dead. But, if I’d taught her better, maybe she would’ve succeeded...”

The last sentence is the hardest to utter. Was it deficiencies in my methods that let her down? Did she lose her life because I spent too much time during our training making love to her and not enough preparing her?

Pinching my chin between her thumb and forefinger, Gabbi forces me to meet her eyes. “She’d have to be superwoman to outrun a bullet. That old lady doesn’t know what would’ve happened, no one does. But, I can tell you that if that was me and I had Cooper with me, I’d try the same thing. It’s instinct—fight or flight—and Mari was a fighter.”

Thinking back to the night I barged into her house to find her mother’s “boyfriend” holding Cooper at knife point, I disagree. “You wouldn’t. I saw you when that fucker had the knife.”

Laughing, she lets goes of my face and throws her head back, putting her hand on her chest when she snorts from the intensity of her laughter. Her tits jiggle, distracting me for a moment. “Hooligan. If you hadn’t turned up when you did, it would’ve gotten a lot bloodier than it did. I was ready to beat him to death with my bare hands. You were right behind me, so I didn’t have time to do anything. I was still trying to work out what was going on when you came rushing inside.”