Bounty (34 page)

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Authors: Aubrey St. Clair

BOOK: Bounty
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45
Amber

A
mber woke
the next morning to a racing heart after hearing a sound coming from her living room. She leapt out of her bed in only her nightshirt and reached under her bed for the golf club she stored there.

Her door opened and she yanked the metal bar out and lifted it in front of her, ready to slam it down and run if needed.

"Whoa, easy there Tigress Woods, it's just me." Joel stood in her doorway with his hands up. He had a duffel bag slung over one muscular shoulder and was wearing a bright red T-shirt.

Amber dropped her arm down, the head of the club making a thud as it came to rest against the floor. "Oh, Joel. I wasn't sure you'd be back." She wanted to run into his arms, but she kept her voice cold as she struggled for control. She wasn't lying when she told him she was getting tired of this back and forth shit. She needed more stability in her life.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You were right. About everything. I have been afraid. Of this," he gestured to himself and then Amber. "Of committing. Of exposing myself to getting hurt again by someone I care about."

"I can't keep doing this," she said. Her heart was swelling in her chest, but she wasn't about to do this again without some assurance that he wasn't going to continue to leave every time they had an argument.

Joel stepped forward, the bag on his shoulder slipping off as he grabbed the handle and bent slightly to drop it to the ground. "I know," he said. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said and what you did."

Amber opened her mouth to protest, but she closed it again when Joel raised his hand and continued.

"I'm not blaming you anymore," he said. "I get that I can't expect to have a real relationship with someone if I'm not willing to let them in. I have nothing to hide anymore, Amber. Not from you, anyway. I kept my past a secret because I was ashamed of it. Not just of the way my parents treated me, but of whether I was going to turn out like them.

"I've been thinking lately about why I fight. I mean, I need to earn money and I don't have a lot of skills, and I'm good at it... but I've been wondering if there's something more? Like, maybe my father passed on some of his violence to me. Maybe it's in my blood. And I think I've been afraid that if you knew where I'd come from, or if you suspected that violence was more than just a job for me but was part of my DNA, then you wouldn't want to be with me. And I couldn't blame you for that."

"Oh, Joel," she said, letting out a deep and shuddering breath that she'd been holding while he spoke.

He shook his head again, not finished. "I just want you to know, Amber, that even if it is in my blood... even if there's something deep in my cells that drives me to keep fighting... I will never, ever, lay a finger on you. I will never hurt you. I'd kill myself before I'd do that. I won't become my father. I won't become a monster. I swear it."

Amber blinked as the image of Joel became distorted behind the tears that welled in her eyes. "I know you won't," she said softly.

"So anyway," Joel said, clearing his throat, "if you're still open to my moving in-"

Amber crossed the short distance between them and grabbed Joel hard by the front of the shirt and pulled him forward, her lips cutting him off in mid-sentence.

He responded immediately by opening his mouth and taking control, his tongue pushing back at hers and asserting dominance. He moved his hard body closer so that they were touching and Amber could feel the heat coming off him in waves.

Joel's arms wrapped around her body, completely enveloping her as his hands caressed her back, massaging gently with his fingertips. His mouth slipped away from hers and continued along her face, pressing gentle kisses along her cheek and down the contours of her neck. Amber's breathing quickened and she put her own arms around his waist, pulling him closer and feeling his arousal pressing through his pants and against her belly button as she did.

"Joel," she moaned as his hands dropped lower down her back and found the edge of her night shirt, slipping underneath to grab her bare ass firmly. Lifting her up with his strong hands, he pulled her to him and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he spun and leaned forward. The two of them fell onto her bed with him on top, still clothed, between her spread legs. His hands were on either side of her, supporting his weight from pushing down on her completely.

As soon as they hit the mattress, Joel's mouth moved back against hers, kissing her with a renewed urgency. She responded, pulling him closer with her legs as his tongue probed deep into her mouth. She wanted more of him inside of her, though. Still kissing him, Amber slid her hands in between them and pulled violently on the button of his pants until it was undone. She yanked the zipper down and then hooked her thumbs into his waistband as she tried to work them down his hips without breaking contact with his lips.

Joel dropped one of his own hands down along her body and touched her calve, running along the smooth skin with his rough and calloused hands. A shiver ran up Amber's spine and she trembled as he moved it further up and onto her thigh.

His warm fingers continued their ascent, slipping under the thin cloth of Amber's nightshirt and past her belly until he had hold of one of her breasts, his thumb caressing her sensitive nipple. She gasped as soon as he made contact and ground her hips upward against the small amount of flesh she had been able to expose on him.

"Take them off," she whispered, pulling her mouth from his momentarily and then resuming where they had left off. No other explanation was necessary as Joel withdrew his hand from her shirt and wiggled his pants down. She felt his legs move as he used them to kick his clothes free until he was naked from the waist down.

Amber glided her hand down his hard body and wriggled it in between them as Joel shifted his weight to his supporting hand and lifted his body a bit to let her through. She grabbed him firmly, the hot and hard power that throbbed in her hand only serving to further feed her desire. "I need... this..." she said, squeezing him purposefully.

The fighter grunted in agreement, and she pulled him toward her entrance. He brought his hand back up and into her shirt, and just as she felt it grasp her breast again he thrust forward, merging their bodies as he filled her. She took a deep breath, bending her knees up along his abs to allow him to push even deeper.

His hips pressed hard against hers as they both took a second to get used to each other's bodies before he began to pull back. When he started to inch himself forward, Amber urged him along with her ankles, pulling his ass toward her. She wasn't interested in gentle and slow right now. She wanted hard and she wanted fast.

As if reading her mind, Joel's hips began to rock back and forth between her legs, going from slow and steady to a frenzied pounding within seconds. She closed her eyes, focusing on the pleasure that grew within her depths and then gasping as he added to it by biting the nape of her neck lightly as his index finger and thumb pinched her nipple.

"Fuck, Joel, keep going," she pleaded, moving the hand she had used to guide him up to her own swollen nub and rubbing along in time with his pounding.

Joel began to grunt with each thrust, and his speed increased, indicating that he was also very close to an explosive finish. Amber bit her lip as her legs pulled him ever deeper each time their bodies met. She felt him start to expand within her just as she reached her own peak. With a shuddering moan, he released, filling her with a hot fire that she could feel blasting deep inside of her. Her own body was quivering now as well, and she could feel herself undulating and squeezing against his hard flesh. She pulled him even closer, unwilling to let him pull away until they had both stopped trembling.

When he finally did, he rolled over to lie next to her, both of them wearing only their shirts, although hers was hiked up over her breasts which she was grateful for since it meant the heat of her body wouldn't be trapped around her.

"So, I also wanted to ask you something else," he said, after he had stopped panting.

"Anything," Amber turned her head to him and smiled.

"The other day, when we were fighting, you called me your boyfriend..."

Amber could feel her face get hot as she giggled nervously. "Yeah, sorry. That was a Freudian slip or something."

"No, I liked it. I mean... it's kind of high school, but I like what it means. I don't want anyone else, Amber. Just you."

She smiled at him and rolled up onto her elbows, bending down and kissing him on the lips again. When she pulled off, she lay her head down on his chest and closed her eyes, a big smile spread across her face.

Maybe he wasn't such a fool after all.

46
Joel

L
ater that day
, Joel explained to Amber that the only way that living together was going to work for him was if he could contribute. To that end, he told her that he would split the rent and bills with her fifty-fifty. He felt bad, but in order to explain how he would manage his half, he made up a lie about Shawn giving him some work to do at the club that he could do after they closed at nights.

The lie served two purposes. For one, it explained his sudden influx of cash. But just as important, it also explained away how he would be coming home late some nights. He figured even if he only fought once a week, it would be more than enough to cover the expenses. Anything over that he could just save for emergencies. If he showed Amber too much cash, it would be suspicious anyway, since it was unlikely Shawn would be paying him very much for doing odd jobs after hours at the club.

For a few weeks, things went along perfectly. His training and conditioning at the gym were improving his technique and stamina, and he was winning all of his after-hours fights for Randy. Occasionally he'd come back with a noticeable bruise or black eye, but those were easily explained away. He would tell Amber that he got it during training, and he would tell each of the guys that he had got it the previous day from one of the other guys when they were sparring. No one asked questions. Injuries were part of the job.

"Why the big smile," Amber asked him one morning, about a month after he had moved in.

"Isn't rent due today?"

Amber squinted at her boyfriend with a little frown. "Yes... so again, why the big smile?"

Joel shrugged. "I don't know, I've never paid rent before. It feels kind of nice to be able to, I guess." He handed her an envelope filled with his half.

Amber threw her head back as she laughed. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who was happy to pay rent before." When she saw Joel's smile fade a bit, she walked up to him and cupped his cheeks in her hands, pulling his head down until their foreheads touched. "I know what you mean, though. I think it's sweet." She pressed her lips to his and gave him a hard kiss to emphasize her point.

"I got you something else," he said, pulling away from her and opening her closet door. He reached up to the top and stuck his hand between the extra blankets that were out of her reach, pulling out a rectangular black box. It was almost as big as a shoe box, but much thinner. He handed it to Amber as she gave him a questioning look.

"What is this?"

"Open it," he said.

Holding the box with one hand, Amber lifted off the lid with the other. When she saw what was inside, she inhaled sharply.

"You said you didn't have one," he said, reaching into the box. He pulled apart the ends and pushed his hands through her red hair to place it around her neck and then stepped back. Amber hadn't said anything, she was just staring down at the empty box in her hand.

"I think it fits," he said. "I don't think it comes in different sizes."

Amber finally lifted her head, and when she did there were tears streaming down her face. "I can't believe you remembered..." Her hands reached up and she touched the metal disc that hung around her belly, running her fingers around its edge.

Joel shrugged and reached up to wipe away the tears from her face. "Can't be a nurse without a stethoscope, right? Think of this as just the first step toward your dreams."

Amber leapt forward, tackling her boyfriend onto the bed behind him and kissing him, running her fingers through his blond hair, pulling his face close to hers and biting on his full lips. "You're amazing," she whispered.

J
oel was almost late
for his training session that morning after Amber had insisted on demonstrating her appreciation, over and over. He almost had to fight her off trying to get her to let him get ready to go.

He sped through his training, his mind on other things. As usual, he spent most of his time studying technique and working on his stamina, foregoing weights and strength training. He was more of a technical fighter and figured he would have time to build up more power behind his punches later. For now, he decided it was more important to be able to last long enough to go for the submissions he had been perfecting. In the past, many of his wins came from those submissions and he wanted to concentrate on his strengths. Chris argued that he needed to be more well-rounded, as there were times where your opponent forced a boxing match no matter how much you wanted to wrestle. Joel could see the value in that, but he would have time to focus on that later.

He was fighting tonight, and it was a big one. His opponent was from out of state, but rumored to be unbeaten. He was on vacation and looking for some action while away from home. Randy had told Joel it would be a big payday because there were a lot of people that had heard about this guy and wanted to see him fight. He figured winning this one fight alone would probably net Joel over a grand. Maybe a lot more.

When he finished at Rock House at around six, he went through his normal routine. He headed to the shelter nearest to the fight for a nap, and then woke up in time to walk to the venue. This time it was inside of an abandoned factory. When he got there, the parking lot was full and he could hear the noise from the crowd even before he opened the front door.

Inside waiting for him was the biggest crowd he'd seen at one of these. Easily a couple hundred people, and he could see that Randy was already walking around with his assistants, taking bets. When he noticed Joel, he waved him over and they stepped away to talk privately.

"You ready for this one, kid?"

"Of course," Joel said.

"This guy is big," Randy said, motioning with his head.

Joel looked over to where he had indicated. Standing by the wall of the factory was a huge monster of a man. His arms were thick and corded with muscle, and his long legs reminded Joel of tree trunks. He had tattoo sleeves running up both arms and seemed to have virtually no neck that Joel could see. He went from broad muscular shoulders directly to a head that was topped with a closely cropped haircut that looked like it had been done at a military barber. Joel tried not to look disturbed by the size of the man and just nodded.

Randy laughed nervously. "Well, the bigger they are the harder they fall, right? That's what they say." He clapped Joel on the shoulder. "Good luck, kid. We start in five." Randy returned to the crowd to continue collecting bets.

He's big, but can he fight?
 Joel knew from experience that size didn't really mean anything if there wasn't enough technique to back it up. This guy was unbeaten, but who knows what the competition was like where he came from. Joel had been training with actual professionals. He'd been working a lot on his stamina and technique lately. Surely he had the advantage. As big as this guy was, he'd have to lug all of that weight around. Probably tires him out pretty quickly.

"Joel, hey!"

His attention shifted to the familiar bald man that had recognized him from his tournament. He'd seen the man come to a few of his fights since then, and wasn't surprised to see him here again today.

"That's one big mother fucker," the man noted.

"So is Carlos," Joel responded. "But I'll still happily kick his ass if I ever get the chance."

The other man gave a slight nod, pursing his lips as if he was doubtful, but too polite to say it. Joel shrugged and turned away. He'd dealt with doubters all his life. He usually proved himself with his fists. He wondered whether he'd ever get the chance to do that with Carlos.

Walking back through the crowd, Joel pulled off his shirt as Randy started the introductions. The crowd cheered when he announced Joel. He imagined how much louder it would be if he ever made it to the big time, fighting in massive Las Vegas casinos or city stadiums.

Then Randy introduced his opponent who apparently went by the nickname the Executioner. The crowd roared even louder when they heard that. He wondered, not for the first time, whether he should have a nickname of his own.

The fight began and both men approached each other. As Joel suspected, the big man wasn't quick, and he started to strategize how to use that to his advantage. Each step the man took was an awkward forward shuffle that led with his right leg as he seemed to drag the rest of his bulk up behind it.

His opponent was standing in a traditional fighting stance, with his right arm raised near his face, squared off with his right knee, and his shoulder facing Joel. As they got closer, Joel noticed the tattoo that was plastered across his entire upper arm. It was a very detailed image of a muscular man with a black hood draped across his head and face. His hands held a sharpened axe that lay across his shoulder, dripping blood. The entire tattoo was black and white except for the blood, which was bright red. He wondered which came first, the nickname or the tattoo.

Joel decided to make his move, anticipating a slow response from the big man. With a burst of speed, he swung his leg up and slammed it into his opponent, right under the raised right arm and then pulled it away before the big man could respond. He connected solidly, but the Executioner barely even flinched. Instead, he took another step toward Joel. Joel moved a step back, trying to keep out of reach.

The crowd reacted with a roar when he had thrown his kick, but now they booed as he moved out of reach, thirsting for more action.

He leapt forward again, this time throwing two punches at the big man's mid-section and then slipping away just as his meaty arms came down to try and grab for him. And again, although his punches were solid, the other man didn't seem to be affected by the attacks.

Again the man advanced, and as Joel stepped back he reached the edge of the crowd behind him. Usually the circle would move as the crowd kept a relatively equal distance between themselves and the fighters. Tonight, though, they weren't getting out of the way. Joel wasn't sure if it was because there were a lot more people here than usual, and maybe they just didn't know the etiquette, or if it was because they thought they could force more action by blocking his retreat. Whatever it was, he was trapped from moving back any further.

Before he could decide what to do, the other fighter attacked. He took another step forward to close the gap and then threw a roundhouse punch at Joel's head. It wasn't quick and Joel had plenty of time to raise his arm to deflect it, but the sheer power of the other man pushed right past his block and his fist connected with the side of his head, knocking him off balance.

He could hear the crowd around him roar as they finally stepped back, anxious to not become part of the action themselves. It was too late for Joel, though. He tried to stagger back out of the way, but the Executioner moved forward again before he'd completely recovered. Another fist drove into him, this time hitting him right in the face after once again pushing past his guard as if he were a white belt on his first day of class.

Joel felt his nose explode on impact, covering his mouth and chest in hot, wet blood. The power behind the bigger man's punches seemed impossible to him, each one like a wrecking ball. He'd been hit in the head plenty of times before, but never so hard.

As his opponent raised his fist again, Joel leapt forward, pushing past the pain and dizziness and thrusting himself inside of the big man's reach as he slammed his own fist into the side of his huge head.

The Executioner's chin moved to the right on impact but then snapped back, a humorless smile plastered across his face. He reached around Joel's neck and grabbed him in a iron-gripped head lock. Joel threw his knees and elbows at each exposed part of his captor's body, but each one may as well have been thrown against a brick wall.

Suddenly, he felt that massive fist crash into his face again, and then again. A pressure was forming around his head as it was squeezed, reminding him of when he'd try to pop a zit back in high school. His last thought was whether or not his head was going to explode in a similar manner as the room darkened around him.

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