Sucker Punch

sucker punch

Ari

His tattooed knuckles gripped the steering wheel and the only thing more tense was Frankie’s jawline. He had the same look he got when he was ready to fight. Freakshow to all, but Frankie to me.

He’d hurt others, but he’d never hurt me.

“I knew I shouldn’t have brought you to the fight.”

“We’ve discussed this over and over.” I sighed. “If we’re going to make this change to the gym and focus on the fights that make real money, then I need to be familiar with it. You know this.” I spoke as calmly as I could, even though adrenaline and even an ounce of fear still coursed through my body.

“I’m familiar. That’s all we need. This is my world. Not yours.” He glanced down at the blood that stained my white dress.

We drove the rest of the way from south Seattle to Ballard in silence. Not that the conversation was over, but I knew Frankie better than anyone, and I had learned a long time ago that the man needed time to cool off. Silence was best until his blood pressure lowered.

He pulled into the parking lot of our gym, his eyes focused on the worn-down building ahead. It was after-hours and the only other vehicle in the parking lot was mine.

The muscles in his arms flexed as he turned off the engine, the silence in the car heavy with unspoken words.

I looked down at my dress, now dried with a deep crimson, and a shiver ran down my spine.

“Your father would kill me if he were still alive. No way would he be cool with this.” That Frankie’s first words weren’t cussing was a good sign. And he wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t going to admit that fact to him. Especially not now.

“This is who I am, Ari. This is what I’ve always been a part of,” he said, his voice low and intense. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be a part of it. You could have been hurt tonight. Look at you. You’re covered in blood.”

“Not my blood,” I clarified.

Frankie sighed, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. “I knew bringing you was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this. This world is rough and unforgiving.”

I met his gaze, hoping he’d see the determination reflected in my eyes. “I want to be a part of it. I need to be a part of it. If we’re going to make this gym successful, then we have to make this change. Cage fighting has a shitload of money potential. Boxing... well it just doesn’t anymore. And we know this.”

“Boxing was your father’s legacy.”

“A legacy that’s on the verge of dying,” I countered. “Hardly anyone comes to our gym anymore to train. And the ones that do want MMA or the underground circuit. It’s not the same anymore. You know this.”

Frankie stared at me for a long moment, searching my face as if for any hint of doubt. When he didn’t find any, he let out a slow breath. “I don’t f*****g like it… But you need to understand what you’re getting into. It’s not what you were brought up around. This isn’t some glamorous sport. There aren’t clear rules like there is with boxing. It’s not a gentleman’s game. It’s brutal and raw. And it’s dangerous.”

I nodded, my resolve unwavering. “So you keep saying, but I also know that we can’t keep going the way we are. We need to adapt or we’ll get left behind. We need the money or our doors close. It’s black and white in my mind.”

“Nothing about this is black and white. Or simple.”

“The money is. Either we have it or we don’t. Pretty simple, if you ask me.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You always were the smart one.” But then his eyes darkened, and he adjusted his body so he was staring at me with more intensity. “But you stay away from Bones Vega.”

I smirked. “Jealous? Since when do you care who I play with?”

Frankie narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t a joke, Ari. Bones is a dangerous man. He’s got a reputation for being ruthless in the cage and out of it. He’s f****d up, too. A goddamn hot mess. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

Frankie had always been protective of me, ever since we were kids. It was one of the reasons I had always looked up to him, even when we butted heads.

The man boiled my insides.

Sometimes in a good way, and most definitely in a bad way.

Hot and cold. But right now, seeing him protective and even a little rattled by what happened tonight, my blood was definitely boiling hot.

I leaned in to kiss his mouth, running my tongue on the piercing that hung on his lower lip.

Frankie’s grip on the steering wheel tightened at my kiss, but he didn’t pull away. I could see the tension in his body, the way he was trying to hold himself back. But I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to let go, to give in to the feelings that were bubbling just beneath the surface.

I pulled away, my lips curling into a smirk. “You know I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean I want you to.”

“It’s hot when you act possessive.”

“It’s not an act,” he grumbled.

The engine was still off, but the heat in the car was palpable. Frankie’s hands, still gripping the steering wheel, tightened even more at my words. His internal struggle was written on his face, the war between his protective instincts and his desire for me.

I leaned in to kiss him again, but his stubborn ass still wasn’t kissing me back. “Don’t punish me, Frankie. Or if you do”—I bit his lower lip gently—“punish me in ways I enjoy.”

Without hesitation, I straddled his body.

“Ari,” he growled, his voice low and rough. “You have a way of driving me f*****g crazy.”

I leaned in closer, brushing my lips against his ear. “I know,” I whispered, my breath hot against his skin. “Show me how much.”

He finally released the steering wheel so he could grip my hips instead. He pulled me closer, our bodies flush against each other. His heart was pounding against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own.

With a groan, Frankie gave in. His lips crashed onto mine, his tongue demanding entrance. I opened willingly, our tongues dancing together in a rhythm that we had mastered over time. His hands roamed my body, pulling me closer as if he could merge us into one being.

The car was small, but it felt like a universe of its own. The world outside faded away until only Frankie and I remained, lost in our own little world. The tension from earlier was gone, replaced by a new kind of energy, one that was raw and primal and all-consuming.

I ran my fingers through Frankie’s hair, pulling him closer as I deepened the kiss. He brought his hands to my back, tracing patterns on my skin that made me tremble. Heat was radiating off his body, the way he was trying to get closer.

Frankie’s touch was electric, setting my body on fire. The want and need was building inside of me, a desire that only he could quench. I rocked my hips against him, feeling the hard length of him pressed against me.

I smiled against his skin, running my tongue along the shell of his ear. “f**k me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

I reached down to his pants and found the zipper. The space was cramped, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was the connection between us, the way our bodies fit together perfectly.

Frankie’s fingers found the hem of my dress, pulling it up and over my head. His eyes raked over my body, taking in every inch of me. His gaze on me was like a physical touch. He leaned in, pressing kisses to my neck, my collarbone