The Fighter

Chapter Two

I walked into the bar, dragged by my best friend. She was taking me here against my will, granted, I did like to party, and it was the follow up to the fight, but I didn’t want to be here. Not if he was here. I wanted to be as far away from his as I could, but by the looks of the people here, and the fact that he was up at the bar doing shots, it was going to be a lot harder to stay away from him than I thought. 

“Nicole, I don’t want to be here. It’s crowded and I’m tired-” “Oh, shut up. You know you want to be here.” She said, pulling me up to the bar. I turned my body away from him, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But it looks like I was going to have a challenge on my hands tonight. “SIX SHOTS!” She called over the blaring music, and cheers went around at the word. The bartender nodded, giving her the eyes, and turned to pour shots. I heard screaming erupt through the whole bar, and turned my head slightly to see a quite famous, quite dark, looking man strut through. His whole demeanor, his walk and the set of his beautiful face distorted his features into…well…pure hell. 

I tore my eyes away from him, forcing the lust to the back of my eyes and praying he didn’t come over here. He was last thing I wanted-an egotistical, angry, strong man bothering me when I was trying to keep one away from me to start with. My eyes skimmed down the face of the bartender and locked on the three shots in front of me. Three, no problem for me, but for Nicole, I knew this was only the beginning. “Ready?” She screamed over the bass, and I nodded before reaching for my first one, tipping it back and slamming it down on the counter. I was done with no problem, and turned to scan the party. 

I was loose enough to want to go out and dance. They were playing actual good music, and I voiced that as I led Nicole out on the dance floor. To be honest, the bar was more of a club here, and not what I was expecting. I had just moved here a few months ago, and this was only my third time being out in Ireland. But so far, I loved it.

My hips swayed to the beat, and I sang the lyrics with Nicole, throwing my hands up with the rest of the crowd. Suddenly I felt warm hands on my hips, and my body locked up, my elbow flying backward into the stomach of the stranger. I turned, and God, this was no stranger. “Darren! What are you doing! Get away from me!” I said, trying my best to be calm. He gave me an unnerving smirk, slowly creeping toward me. “But, baby, we never finished what I started.” His voice was liquid disease, making my head hurt. “That’s exactly what it is. Something you started. I’m not finishing it.” I said, and his smirk dropped, his face clouding over as he got unbearably close. “That’s fine. I’ll do all the work.” He said, his hand striking an iron grip on my bicep. “Ow!” I cried out, but the music wouldn’t allow me to be heard. 

Nicole stood still, shell-shocked and watching him. She’d been there through all the night, the rough heartache, the revival of the pain. This man, this person, was nothing but scum, and she hated him nearly as much as I did. Her hand was clasped over her mouth, and that was all I saw before he was dragging me away, through he crowd and toward the DJ booth where the sound was feeding his adrenaline. 

Suddenly I was snatched backwards, and when I turned, I saw a flash of blonde hair. Darren’s grip was ripped from my arm, and gentle hands were placed on my waist, leading me softly back a little ways. But my eyes were locked on the scene in front of me. 

Darren was in a fight. With the fighter that had just been in the cage. I saw tufts of blonde hair poking out from underneath a black snapback, and my eyes flicked to his cocked fist. He slammed it down into Darren’s face, which was peaking out from underneath him, his eyes rolling back. A fist was slammed into his face repeatedly until Darren’s grasp was slack on the blondie’s hair, and I was pressed tightly into the man holding me. “It’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay.” He whispered in my ear, and I cowered as my defender stood, his shoulders back as he stared down at Darren, who was unconscious. 

The guy turned, and my eyes locked on his face. Dark, dark blue eyes, high cheek bones and ivory skin stretched over a chiseled jaw. But the way he was looking at me, his fists clenched at his sides, set me off. I broke away from my captor as he strode up to the me. I glared, and he smirked down at me, same as he had when he was in the cage. “Have fun?” I spat, and his smirk deepened. “You’re welcome. And yeah, I did, thanks.” He said, his Irish accent making me weak at the knees, and my eyes betrayed me, skimming over his fit body. 

“Like what you see, princess?” He asked, and my eyes shot back up to his face. “No. No, I’m don‘t.” I said, turning and trying to head back the other way. People had gathered and were watching, so when he grabbed my hip, swinging me around and trapping my body in his arms, he nodded over my head for them to depart. They obeyed, and the party started, full swing in no time. I was pushed into his chest, and I struggled to get out of his grip on one arm. 

He was the strongest guy I’d ever met. Honestly, holding me against his rock-hard chest and stomach, his bicep barely flexing, and I couldn’t escape. “Stop struggling, it’ll only make you weak.” He said, walking me over to a set of booths with only a few people in them. VIP section. He pulled me over to a secluded part where we were alone before dipping his mouth to my ear and whispering in a quite husky voice, “Not that I don’t mind you panting.” 

I felt his smirk as I shoved against his chest, but he didn’t budge, only pulled away to look me in the eyes. “What’s your name?” He asked, cloudy eyes skimming my face, neck, chest….”None of your business.” I said, glaring daggers at him. He smirked softly at me when he pulled his gaze up to meet mine again. “Don’t be that way. C’mon, I saved you. Be thankful.” He said, leaning in and stroking my cheek with the back of his finger. “Oh, I am, don’t mistake me. I just don’t want to be around you.” I spat, and he pulled away slightly, pressing his abdomen into mine. “Ouch. I’m truly hurt.” He mocked. “I didn’t say those words to make you feel good.” I hissed, and amusement played across his features. “Really?” He asked, and I nodded tightly, suddenly anxious to find out what he would do. Not scared, just anxious. 

He propped a hand up by my head, leaning in suddenly, his hot breath hitting my neck, sending chill bumps down my body. His fingers toyed with the hem of my shirt. “Mm, you smell good babe.” He indulged, his lashes sweeping on the skin of my neck. His soft, plump lips brushed the hollow of my collarbone, and I held it all in, all of the wonderful things he was doing to me and all the sounds he was coaxing out of me. 

“Get off of me!” I said, shoving hard once, and sending him far enough back to slip away. “I’m leaving.” I said, not looking back, and tired to walk away. His arm slipped around my waist and I was tugged back once again, then trapped against the exit of the VIP room. “Ohhh, no you don’t. Not yet at least, beautiful. First, give me your name,” He paused to stroke my hair back. “And number.” He winked. His hands were so soft, yet calloused, and I getting lost in the feel until that single action snapped me back into reality. “No.” “Fine.” He said, and got close. 

So close. My breath hitched as every part of him pressed to me, his chest to mine, his hips pushing mine back, and his hands slipping around to cup my ass through my jeans. I froze at his touch, halfway torn between my heart beating out of pure ecstasy, and slapping the living shit out of him for thinking he could do this. 

He reached into my pocket, winking at my tense position trapped between his body and the wall once again. He tapped away at my phone, sliding it back in my pocket before smugly tapping my behind. “Safe and sound. Text me, beautiful.” He winked once more before departing, and I was slumped where he’d left me. 

Who the hell was that?