- Chapter Ten -

Huxton

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The welcoming scent of toast filled my kitchen.

In the background, I'd put on some low-tempo music. It kept me company as I scraped butter on the hot bread, my hips swaying lazily to the rhythm. I'd woken up with a song in my brain—a song created by the lovely Zoe Lillith.

Fuck, she'd moaned so loud in that alley.

I'd also woken with a massive erection. It had abated as I made breakfast, but with my memory of the night, it now returned.

Chuckling, I adjusted myself. Cradling my toast, I took a huge bite. I had an appetite; not for food, but something else. This would have to hold me over.

Grabbing my coffee from the counter, I headed into my living room. I had to dodge the brass stripper pole that went from floor to ceiling.

Sitting down on the couch, I spotted my jeans on the floor. I'd kicked them off when I'd walked in the door, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to my bedroom.

Swallowing from my mug, I pulled the pants to me with my heel. One more bite of breakfast, then I set it on the arm of the couch. Grabbing my jeans, I slid out my cellphone. The screen was dark; I hadn't turned it back on after Kaley's text.

Bracing myself, I pushed the button. The phone lit up, buzzing as messages came through. Not just from Kaley; there were a few from Gina, too. I'd left my happy clients very unhappy.

It was so unlike me. I'd never ignored them, not intentionally.

She'd sent three while the phone had been turned off;

Kaley: Oh, plans? That's too bad. You should see how wet I am. You're really missing out.

The next message had come thirty minutes later, a photo attached. Kaley must have done some gymnastics to send me such a crisp picture of her hand deep in her spread pussy.

Kaley: I'll be up all night, just come by when you're ready, babe.

Shifting on the couch, I hesitated—then scrolled past. Fucking hell. If I'd seen that last night, I would have told her to stay just like and wait for me to get there.

Running a hand through my hair, I eyed her final text.

Kaley: Fine. It's one in the morning, guess you really are busy.

You have any hot guy friends that I can call next time?

Sighing, I slumped into the cushions. Kaley wasn't used to being denied. To her credit, she had never been. I'd been with clients into the late hours, and before stumbling home to sleep, I'd still visited her.

She tried to tempt me, and now she feels scorned. Hovering over the keys, I started to type a reply to Kaley's particularly disgruntled last message. Each time I tapped a few letters, I erased it again. What the hell could I even say? Sweet talk her. That's what she wants, and it'll get me back into her good graces. That's what I want.

But my heart wasn't in it. A few more times, I struggled to craft a reply. Setting my phone in my lap, I groaned. My mind was running through my fingers, I couldn't hold it still.

I didn't want to talk to Kaley or Gina.

I wanted to talk to Zoe.

Squeezing my phone, I opened my recent calls, found the number, and dialed. Each time the line rang, it pushed the uncertainty about my clients aside. I could worry about them another time. Wasn't I allowed to have fun, to go with my gut and focus on...

On what? I asked myself, staring around my apartment. On a fling, on a girl who needs my help but fights me every step of the way?

Fuck, I loved that side of her. Zoe's back and forth had made her so different than the plethora of women who phoned me for sex. I really did love my job, but it had been... well. Easy, lately. Repetitive.

Repetitive? No. Where the fuck did that idea come from?

The ringing cut short, Zoe's voice kissing my eardrum. “Hey Huck, what's up?”

Smiling, I sank deeper into the couch. She cleansed me with that voice, but at the same time, she stirred me up. I was already reliving the way she'd moaned with my dick buried to the hilt inside of her.

With just her greeting, she'd gotten me hard. “What's up? Well, that depends on how you mean, doll.” Chuckling, I slid my palm into my boxers, grabbing the base of my cock. Huskily, I asked, “Some parts of me are more awake than the rest.”

Zoe cleared her throat. “Are you doing what I think you are?”

“Jerking myself to the sound of your voice?” Breathing out low, hot, I squeezed myself tighter. “Correct.”

“Huck! Come on!”

“Come on what?” I whispered. “I'm all alone here. Want to come by?”

She made a few noises, all adorable and hilarious. “Did you really call me for this?”

Laughing gently, I let my cock go. “Would that be so bad?” Her pause was long, so I pushed on. “I actually wanted to see if you wanted to go to the gym and practice with me.”

“What?”

“You were the one harping on me to be prepared for these fights. This is something I could really use your help with. You know the Dog House better than me.” Though, I was quickly getting the lay of the land there. It seemed to rotate around 'whatever Nehro wants, goes.'

Zoe spoke calmer, no longer freaking out over the image of me touching myself with her on the phone. “Okay. Sounds good. Which gym should we meet at?”

Poking at my now cold toast, I said, “Wherever you suggest.”

Unease dripped into her words. “The only place I really know of is where Reese trains. What if he shows up?”

I didn't know I was grinning. It had just happened, and now, my cheeks ached from it. “If he shows up, it'll be perfect. What better way to practice than to take him down?”

“Huck... I know you got him down last night, but he wasn't expecting it. Reese has been fighting in the Dog House for a long time. He's a guy to take serious.”

“I'm taking him very seriously.” Standing, I dusted crumbs away. “The problem is, he isn't taking me seriously. He called me a newbie last night. I'm far from that.”

She chuckled and said, “After seeing you fight twice now, I figured you weren't new to this. I was wondering how a stripper-bodyguard had so much skill.”

“I was born skilled.”

“Your business card should say that.”

I laughed, shaking my head slowly. “I'll consider it for my next printing.” Heading into my bedroom, I opened my closet, my phone balanced between shoulder and ear. “Tell me where I'm going, I'll head there now. You need a ride?”

Zoe was smiling, I could hear it. “What am I supposed to ride? You aren't here.”

In my boxers, my cock jumped. I hadn't been expecting that. “Proud of yourself for that one, huh?”

Now she was chuckling, but it had a warm, breathy quality. “Maybe. I'll text you the address. See you in fifteen or so, Huck. Don't be late.”

Shaking my head, I ended the call. My eyes moved, finding myself in my mirror. Running a hand over my stomach, I grazed my erection.

Fifteen minutes wasn't enough time to get myself off and be punctual.

That sneaky woman had known.

It was a quick ride downtown to the location she'd sent me. The air cleared my skull, helped me focus on what I was doing. Which was good, really.

I didn't think Zoe would want me to crash my bike because I wasn't able to think of anything but her.

Parking my motorcycle, I grabbed my backpack, pushing through the front doors. It was a small gym, but that was normal. It was aimed at MMA, guaranteeing no one who showed up was just someone who wanted to walk for hours on a treadmill.

But, because of that—and the fact it was a Monday morning—it was nearly empty. Looking closer, I saw that someone had strung up some Christmas ornaments and tinsel on the walls.

There was a guy behind the counter, a young kid who nodded at me lazily. In front of him, a big wreath sparkled. Nice to see that even gyms can enjoy the holidays, I mused.

Turning slightly, I gazed at the equipment. There was a raised boxing ring in one corner; heavy bags hanging from chains or standing on strong bases sprinkled throughout. A few weights and other tools were set on another far wall.

I didn't see Zoe yet. Hoisting my bag, I swept across the gym towards the far corner. The shower area was silent, the air cool. Water echoed around me from leaky sinks.

Quickly, I changed out of my typical jeans and jacket. Zoe had been right, I didn't look like a fighter when I'd been in the ring. That hadn't mattered, but working out in jeans—well. It wasn't ideal.

In my defense, I hadn't been ready the first time she'd called me for help. The second time... okay, sure. I could have gone home and changed, like she'd suggested. It would have been a good idea. But being around Zoe...

To me, that was the better idea.

In long, dark green shorts and a black tank-top, I stepped into the main gym. Wrapping my hands as I walked, I nearly dropped the protective tape.

She was waiting for me, her body twisted in profile. Her dark-grey tights fit every curve of her body, a sight I could have gazed on for hours. Zoe's shirt was similar to mine, except it was a rich blue. It enhanced the wild-red of her hair, which she'd tied high on her head in a bouncing tail.

Her eyes were narrowed on the Christmas decorations with clear distaste. When she turned my way, I was sure she caught the lust that was trying to crawl out of my eyes and cross the room to smother her.

“Huck!” she called, hesitating, looking me up and down. I think, like me, she appreciated what she saw.

Grinning, I tied off my wraps and closed the distance between us. “Why were you glaring at all the holiday sparkle? Do you hate Christmas or something?”

I was joking, but she faltered. “No. I mean—not exactly.” Shrugging, she scratched the side of her neck self-consciously. “I love snow. I haven't seen it in a long time.”

“That seems easy to fix. I'm from Colorado, the snow is all over the place there right now. It's a weekend drive, easy.”

Zoe was frowning, trying to stop it and failing. “Leaving isn't that easy for me. I have responsibilities, and lack of funds... you know this.”

Icy guilt spread through my bones. Clearly, this was a sore spot for her. I was eager to change the topic. Indicating her outfit, I said, “What, am I supposed to be fighting you?”

Spreading her arms, she motioned down her body; I was eager to follow. “It's a gym. This is gym wear.” Blinking, her smile went crooked. “If you really want me to spar with you, I can. I'd just hate to embarrass you when I win.”

Reaching for her wrists, I tugged her against me. “Babe, if you win, I'll be something far nicer than embarrassed.”

She felt my cock thickening in my shorts. Blushing, Zoe disengaged and stepped back. I just chuckled, glancing at the kid behind the desk. He hadn't even looked up.

“Let's focus,” she said, though her eyes kept dancing down to my hips. Tugging at her hair, she faced away, walking further inside.

I didn't mind. The view was amazing.

Following her, I looked on while she set up one of the bags. It hung between us, the chains keeping it in the air jingling. “Warm up,” she instructed.

I was plenty warm. Smiling, I bit my tongue and rolled my shoulders. “I've never had such a sexy trainer.”

Furrowing her brow, Zoe tapped the bag and backed up to give me room. “Right. Tell me about the trainers you've had. I'm trying to make sense of this weird combination of dancer and fighter that you claim to be.”

“Is it that weird?” Bouncing lightly, I threw an experimental jab at the bag. The sound popped through the air, the chains squeaking. “Sparring can get a guy in great shape. Strippers need to be in peak condition.” Winking at her, I swung again. It wasn't hard enough to make the bag swing, I was just loosening my muscles.

Zoe studied me, taking it all in. “Hmm. But wouldn't fighting injure you? You couldn't go getting a busted nose, for example.”

“Are you worried about my pretty face?” Glancing at her, I punched the canvas with more force. Reese had come to mind. Thinking about her ex had shoved adrenaline into my veins.

Folding her arms, she looked away. “I'd like you to make it out of this in one piece. For your sake, and mine.”

The venom in her voice made me pause. Eyeing her, I switched sides, hitting with my other fist. “I'm flattered. Care to tell me more about your end of this, now?”

She blinked. “I said my debt was personal.” Her lips tightened, making it obvious she wanted to end this conversation here.

Double jabs, I started pounding the bag faster, fiercer. “You're grilling me about my past, but not letting me return the favor. How is that fair?”

“It's not about fair. It's about me saying I'm not comfortable going into this with you.”

Grabbing the bag to stop it swinging, I squinted at her. “With me, specifically?”

She stared at her feet, but I spotted the guilt before she hid it. “Huck, please don't press this. Isn't it obvious I don't want to talk?”

“Extremely obvious. Which is why I'm even more curious, now.” Slipping around the bag, I scooped her cheeks up in my palms. The bandage-wraps prevented me from feeling all of her skin, and I hated that. “Secrets are fine. But if your debt is going to change anything about how I feel about you—about what I'm doing?” My thumb grazed the side of her mouth. I heard her inhale, imagined her heart fluttering. “You have to tell me. Okay?”

Zoe held my stare. My intensity won, and in the end, she crumbled and escaped my grasp. My hands fell to my hips, clenching uneasily.

“Okay,” she said, raspy. “Some parts of my debt do affect you.” Looking up at me through her thick lashes, she frowned. “I owe a lot of money. If you stay, and fight every single fight, I think it will take us... a very long time to pay Nehro.”

I tilted my head. “How long?”

Defeat stained her features. Pretty blue eyes went dark, flashing from me, to the far wall, then back again. “Years. Fucking years, Huck.”

Years. My stomach dropped, tangling my feet up. I couldn't walk, but I wanted to go to her and hold her so badly. Instead, my own self-preservation was taking over. I asked, “How many years?”

“I don't know.” She flinched. “No, sorry. I have an idea... I'm just terrified if I say, you'll walk away. You'll open your eyes and realize how crazy this is.” Laughing bitterly, she hugged herself tight. “I have to tell you, don't I? It's only right. I don't want you to hate me the way I hate Reese for misleading me.”

When she cursed his name, it reignited the fire in my belly.

The corner of her mouth lifted, nearly a snarl. Zoe muttered, “Taking half of my fucking winnings, god dammit.” Palming her forehead, she tried to run her fingers in her hair, forgetting it was tied back. The result was her freeing some strands, creating a disheveled, delicious look.

Breathing in, slow and deep, I took a step towards her. She didn't retreat. “Tell me how long.”

Shame swam from her wide eyes, settling in her soft voice. “Ten years.”

Light surged through my skull. I was doing math, adding the numbers and seeing no other logical results. But the answer was too much.

If each fight netted her a grand... and she'd said there were two or three fights a month...

Even at a glance, the number was astounding.

She has to owe Nehro over three hundred and sixty thousand dollars.

Holy fucking hell.

Zoe was waiting, expectation strong in her face—in her stance. She knew I'd added it all up. Even if I hadn't, just learning it was ten years of fist-fights ahead of me... how could I promise I would be here for her? Who could commit to such a stretch of time?

Ten years of adjusting my schedule, turning down high paying clients just to guarantee I could be at Zoe's side for every single match. If I missed one, she would default.

Wait. That was what I needed to know. “You never told me what happens if I don't show up for a fight,” I said.

Standing tall, she tightened her arms, almost choking herself. I swear, she was holding herself together. I was digging too deep, too fast, and we both knew it. But it had to be done.

She whispered, “Did you plan to test the waters and find out?”

Another step, I was so close I just had to reach out. I could hold her close and stop her shivering. I didn't. God, why didn't I? “Zoe, please. I need to know. Were you hoping I'd fight blindly? Ten years of ignorance?”

“I—I don't know.”

“That much money... and with all your constant panic over it...” Gazing at the hollow pits of her eyes, eyes that had twinkled at me just minutes ago, I grit my teeth. “Keep the source of the debt to yourself, for now. But tell me what Nehro gets if you default. What scares you so much?”

“Saying it out loud makes me feel sick.”

“Then be sick.”

Zoe examined our surroundings. No one was in ear-shot, the kid at the desk was playing on his phone. Even so, she dropped her voice so low I had to strain. “If I default... Nehro will make me sell my body. I'll become his whore to pay off the rest of my debt.”

Acid rumbled up from my guts, filling my mouth. I didn't dare speak, I didn't know what would spill out. Sell her body.

Suddenly, so much made sense to me. The comments she'd made to me in her bedroom, when I'd tried to suggest she pay me back without money. I'd meant to flirt, to tease. Instead, I'd hit a sensitive nerve.

Sweat slid down my back. I noticed my arms were knotting up, I was crushing my fists together so tight. “That kind of a contract—he can't enforce it, Zoe.”

“I wish he couldn't. Believe me, he has his ways.”

I jerked my chin side to side. “So much of this just makes no sense.”

Cocking her head, she put on a sad smile. “I've told myself that so many times. So, now what?”

I stared at her.

Zoe studied my stance. My growing rage was clear as day. Bluntly, she said, “Will you walk away? You know the details, or enough of them. Ten years of fighting, all to make sure I don't have to fall to my knees and suck whatever cock Nehro puts in front of me.” She made a rude gesture with her hand in the air.

Stunned, my eyebrows flew to my hairline. This was what Zoe had struggled with. I grasped her anger, because if I felt this furious, how could she not be enraged? Somehow, Nehro had a way to ensure she'd follow the letter of his perverse contract.

The part of her that had glowered when Reese had shown up last night... proving that he was willing to fight, just not for her... I got it. I really did.

Zoe had been desperate when she'd first called me, a man she barely knew, for help. But who could blame her? She'd been faced with no other alternative. Either I came and fought, or she would be forced into something she was clearly terrified of.

Sex for money.

The thing I luxuriated in.

How could I have berated her so harshly, when I was hiding something like that from her?

Fuck. I was a god damn hypocrite.

“Huxton.” I had a dreadful feeling, like that was the last time she would ever whisper my name. “You can go. I won't even blame you. Ten years of risking your health—your life—for me?” Laughing dryly, her mask of false sincerity was fraying. “I'll find someone else. If I give them a cut of the winnings, even if it means I have to keep doing this for longer, maybe they'll be fine with it. Maybe they'll—”

Catching her in my arms, I pushed her backwards. We bounced off one of the punching-bags, stumbling against the boxing ring. The ropes swayed under her weight, but I kept pressing, arching her down and holding her steady.

I couldn't handle one more word about me abandoning her. Not now... and maybe never.

No one fights for free.

Gripping her hair, I kissed her roughly. My voice was guttural, raw with my rattling emotions. “How dare you?”

“Wh—how dare I what?” Zoe's eyes were so huge, I could fall into them.

“How dare you suggest that I walk away?” Biting her lower lip, I rolled my tongue over hers, massaging it. She tasted amazing, and it reminded me of what we'd done. What I'd done.

Zoe was messing up my world, and I... I just didn't care.

My eyes flashed, boring into hers. I said with a grin, “Your twenty bucks belongs to me. Got it?”

Her mouth trembled. Zoe sank into my stare, judging me—seeking some proof that I was fucking with her. I was scared she might find some. I was acting on impulse, still unsure of what I was doing or why. I couldn't promise one year, never mind ten.

But when she smiled, god. I stopped thinking about the future. I had a beautiful present right here, and wasn't that good enough?

“I owe you forty, now,” she said. “It sounds so pathetic, doesn't it?”

“It's not even enough for a date with me.” Pushing my nose to her temple, I closed my eyes. Her skin was humming against mine. “I'm not cheap. Don't get the wrong idea, doll.”

She kissed me once, then darted away. “Good to know. I don't like cheap men.”

With that, the mood shifted.

The rest of the afternoon, we juggled kickboxing and cardio. Zoe pushed me, and when I didn't break, she pushed me harder. She thought I had insane stamina, but it was more than that.

As long as I was moving—struggling... I didn't have to think.

The worst thing I could do was think, because then, I would begin to wonder what was wrong with me. I couldn't do that. Even if it was irrational, I had to push down my doubt.

Zoe deserved someone to fight for her.

And I had to prove that standing up for people...

Fighting for them...

Didn't have to come with a price.