“Fuck it,” he growls angrily. “Let’s go.”
I grin and toe off my heels, leaving them by the couch. I’m still dressed up from our brief time at the club, and my tight dress is definitely not the kind of thing I’d choose to fight in, but it will have to do. Judging from what I saw when Baldy was fighting Blondie, this won’t take long anyway.
I walk forward and hop into the ring, feeling the rough material under my bare feet. There’s a thrill that comes with fighting, and it’s similar enough to fucking that I’m hoping I can work off some of the energy that buzzes under my skin and stop thinking about Rory and Levi. Being out from between them definitely helps, and I take a deep breath and square off with my opponent, dropping into a fighting stance naturally.
Rory, Levi, and Sloan have seen me fight before, and Rory knows firsthand that I can hold my own. But the rest of these Black Roses? They don’t know what to expect from me, and I can feel their energy and anticipation growing as they watch.
It’s like I’m feeding on it, letting it hype me up, and it blends in with the adrenaline of staring down a man several inches taller than me and probably a hundred pounds heavier.
He’s big. And he’s pissed.
But I’m not worried. I’m a good fucking fighter. My dad taught me well, and I’ve proven that time and time again. It won’t be any big thing to prove it again here tonight.
Baldy’s standing there, clearly waiting for me to make the first move. So I do, dancing in close enough to throw a right hook his way, which he barely dodges back from. I grin and swipe out again with my left hand, catching him on the chin and earning myself surprised laughter from the crowd. I wait just a second to see if he’s going to retaliate, and when he doesn’t, I throw a couple more punches, catching him with each one.
The rage builds behind his eyes, and I stay on my toes, ready when he finally snaps his fist out, throwing a punch back at me. Remembering Rory’s tip from before, I duck under it easily and move out of his reach.
Rory’s moved up closer to get a good view of the fight, and I glance down at him, seeing something like pride flash in his eyes. Apparently he likes that.
Excitement surges through me, adding to the adrenaline already burning hot in my veins. For some reason, that look of pleased pride in Rory’s green eyes does something to me. It makes me want to show off more, to prove to him what I can do.
So I keep fighting. Baldy’s putting up more of a fight than I would’ve expected based on the performance he gave with Blondie. He learns as we go on, ducking and dodging back from my hits and trying to take me out with sweeps of his legs. He’s not going to be an easy tap out the way I was expecting, so I adjust to match him, fighting more aggressively.
When he lands a hit to my stomach, I aim my knee for his balls, barely missing as he twists to avoid it. His movement makes it easy for me to get him in the back with my elbow, and he grunts in pain, making me smile viciously.
The gathered members of the gang are eating it all up, yelling and stomping, calling out to us. Some of them are on Baldy’s side, telling him he can’t let a little girl kick his ass, but a surprising number are for me, cheering and telling me to keep going.
I can hear a deafening whistle split through the noise, and Rory’s voice calls out, “Kick his ass, Hurricane!”
I grin because I plan to do just that.
My blood is pounding under my skin, hot with the thrill of a good fight; it really is up there with sex for things that I love to do. Nothing takes me out of my head better than a rough and dirty tumble in the ring.
It’s clear that most of the Black Roses aren’t made for fighting like this. They know enough to grapple someone if they need to, and I bet they could all shoot a gun better than I can, but they haven’t been trained for this. Not like me. Most of them who have been in the ring tonight have been keeping it to boxing, with some non-regulation moves, but I have different styles under my belt, and I plan to use them.
Baldy’s built like a brick house, but I aim a kick for his knee, making him crumple a bit. I use that opening to launch myself at him, using a few MMA moves to get him down on the mat.
I grapple him, trying to stay on top. My dress is short enough that it just rides up as we fight on the mat, giving me enough range of motion to keep my edge.
Baldy bucks under me, trying to get up or turn the tables, but I don’t let him, using all my weight to keep him pinned. I want to get this fucker into an arm bar and make him tap out.
As we tussle, hands and knees and limbs go everywhere. At some point in his struggle, Baldy manages t
o flip us, pinning me down, and his hand ends up on my ass. I can feel the heat of it through my underwear, and I move to try to get him off of me.
Before I can make much progress there, he’s suddenly hauled up and off of me, and I have to blink up and blow hair out of my face to see what’s going on.
Sloan is standing above me, eyes murderous with rage. He punches Baldy squarely in the face and drops him in one hit. The guy goes down like a sack of bricks, and Sloan makes it look effortless.
Fucking show-off.
I scramble to my feet. I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears, the blood still rushing through me, demanding I keep the fight going. I go to brush myself off, and I realize my skirt has completely ridden up, showing my ass to the entire gathered audience.
Shit. No wonder it was so easy for Baldy to get a hand on me. Good thing I put on nice panties before going out earlier, I guess.
Once I’m up, Sloan turns those furious eyes onto me, looking like he wants to rip me apart right here in front of everyone.
He’s not the only one who’s angry though, and I’m not about to be cowed by him.