Chapter 24
A few days pass before I can convince Ty to let me come to one of his fights.
He bends over backwards to keep me safe and happy, but trying to let me do the same for him is like pulling teeth. Could I just show up? Oh, sure I could.
But I know the risks that would be taking; putting myself in the same space as Mickey and Cory.
Potentially distracting Ty mid-fight, causing him to lose focus, not to mention the possibility of more of Mickey’s lackeys starting some shit.
Now, all of that, I’d walk into willingly if that meant I’d be there for him if he needed me.
I had to ride him so hard that his eyes rolled back and he fell back against the pillows before I pleaded my case.
Is it bad that I felt oddly powerful watching this big, burly, dangerous man breathing heavily, completely in pleasure-filled bliss that I brought him to and then using his haze to get him to agree to what I want?
Manipulative? Totally. But I’ll do whatever I need to in order to keep him safe.
Let’s be so real here for a second. Ty doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. I know that if he really didn’t want me to, he’d have told me by now. But here we are, days later, and he’s not mentioned anything.
I’m putting on the last swipes of mascara on my lashes, painting my war paint on before going into battle, and a beautiful sight leans on the doorframe, staring at me in the mirror.
Ty’s arms are crossed as he leans against the dark wooden frame, shirtless–I might add, with grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips giving me that mouth-watering view of his Adonis belt. That harsh v of muscle trailing down to…other things.
Makes me feral, every time.
“Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing,” I say, mouth slightly open as I add more mascara to the other eye before standing upright and closing the tube. “Please, Ty, that cannot be what you’re wearing.”
Ty just stands there, an infuriatingly hot smirk on his face because this fucker knows exactly how I react to him.
God, I love him. But I’m not about to let him go and flaunt his impressive dick size to all the people there.
Guys, girls, all of them will be pawing after my man if they see him like this. No, no, no.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” he asks, mockingly innocent, gesturing with his hands to himself. “I thought you liked this look.”
I turn to face him, setting the mascara down and sighing.
“You damn well know how much I love this look. But it’s for me only, Ty.
Look at how fucking delicious you look!” I turn and point in the mirror like it’s the problem.
“Everyone there is going to see you and try to make a move. I can see the outline of your dick in those and all it does is entice people. Let’s be honest here, they’d be stupid not to hit on you.
But you’re mine, and I’m not in the business of sharing. ”
Ty smirks harder, pure delight brightening his eyes.
“Ah I see,” he says with a nod, dropping his arms and without ceremony, putting them in his pockets. The movement makes his abs flex and I’m momentarily stunned by the view. And this fucker knows it. “Possessive, are we?”
I chuckle darkly because two can play this game.
“Are you ready to see what I’m wearing?” I purr seductively, biting my lip, and his eyes darken as he nods. I pull the tie of the old robe of his I’m wearing and let it fall to the floor.
“No, absolutely not,” Ty snaps, shaking his head, running his hand over his head like he doesn’t quite know what to do and I love it.
I turn to look at myself in the mirror, fluffing the loose curls of my hair as I watch my man break down behind me.
“Roxie, baby,” he says, clearly struggling with finding the right words to say that might make me change my mind.
The black dress, one I’d found at a thrift store for barely anything, fits me like it was made for me.
It’s plain, and honestly, pretty modest for my taste, but pairing it with my boots and fishnets makes it lethal.
The soft fabric glides over my curves, and dips in between my breasts low enough that a nip-slip is possible.
The fabric folds over itself dangerously at my neckline and flares out just a bit at the bottom hem.
It’s more ‘girl-next-door’ than I usually go for, but the way it lays on my skin is extremely hot.
“What, you don’t like it?” I turn, showing the back off in the mirror and watch as Ty’s eyes darken and his hands curl into fists at his side. “I just want to show my support.”
“You’ll show your support looking like that and I’ll have to kill someone for looking at you too long,” he growls, stepping forward and his hands gripping my waist tightly.
“I’ll change if you will,” I offer, tilting my head. “Although, I was very excited to wear this out and about.”
Ty’s eyes rake over me again, and he lets me go, twirling his finger around to have me spin. When I do, he yanks me back to him, pulling me flush against him so I can see us both in the mirror. My cheeks look flushed with want and his eyes are darker with need.
“You’re gorgeous. Exquisite. Completely and totally ravishing,” he says each word carefully and darkly.
The slight growl in his voice makes my need to keep being a brat lessen.
His dominance taming the brat in me. Just a little.
“You can wear whatever you want, I know how to fight. But let me be clear, this little number? It’s sure to cause a few fights where we’re going. ”
My breath catches in my throat as he dips down, pressing a lingering kiss to the base of my neck before stepping back. He keeps eye contact with me in the mirror as he steps back and my breathing does not level out under the weight of his gaze.
“Mario will be here in ten minutes to pick us up. Are you sure you still want to do this?” he asks and I straighten my spine, rolling my shoulders back.
“Very.”
“Come on, baby, you’re missing the way he’s holding his ribs. You got them earlier, keep hammering there,” I talk in Ty’s ear so he can hear me over the crowds. I don’t know where the hell Mario went–the fucking dumb-ass prick–and when I find him, he’s going to have a black eye and a broken jaw.
When you’re someone’s manager down here, you can’t just up and leave them.
Okay, I mean you can, but you’re a pretty shitty human if you do.
The crowd is insane tonight. The whole place is lined with people and most of them are old geezers who are trying to win back all the money they’ve snorted up their nose or handed over for a quick twenty minutes in the back room with a hooker.
I’m glad I changed clothes.
After the moment in the bathroom, I slipped on some black leggings and one of Ty’s shirts that fell below my ass. I’m covered, but not as dressed like all the other fighter’s girls.
Not that I care. Not when Ty’s winning–but barely.
“You need to get out of here, carino. We’ve seen how fast the crowd can turn.” He’s bleeding from a cut on his eyebrow and I wipe it away quickly so his vision isn’t impaired.
“I’m not leaving. Now, kick his ass so we can go home.”
“Home,” he whispers softly. “That’s anywhere you are, baby.”
And with that, my man gives me a smirk that makes my heart beat faster and he stands taller before facing off the guy in front of him.
Ty kicks his ass, grabbing his neck and pulling him into his body so that Ty can drag the guy to the dirt and get a few good kidney jabs in before using his elbow to knock him out. The beefy guy Ty’s fighting doesn’t go down that easily though. He flips them over so Ty’s back is against the ground.
“Get him, Ty!” I scream, trying my best to not step across the line drawn in the dirt that would disqualify the fight.
“You’ll be lucky if he walks out of here without a concussion,” a sinister voice snarls behind me.
My heart drops and my clapping slows to a stop as I try to look around for the best possible route to get the fuck out of here.
“What is it, Roxie? Not happy to see me?” Mickey’s breath is hot in my ear as he speaks directly to me. Ty’s fighting in the pit, focused completely on trying to dodge the fist aimed for his temple. I’m locked in on the danger, but at the same time, it feels like everything is fuzzy.
What is Mickey going to do?
What can I do to make sure he leaves us alone?
Can I get Ty and I out of here?
What kind of backup does Mickey have, would we be walking into a trap?
Ty shifts under his opponent’s hold, landing a punch to the guy’s elbow that makes him roll to the side in agony. I doubt he’ll be feeling anything or able to use his arm for a good minute. Ty just bought himself the time he needed to win the fight.
“You’ve been a very bad girl. And you know what I do to bad girls,” Mickey taunts in my ear and I’m paralyzed with fear.
I do know.
Exactly what happens when someone like me pisses off someone like him.
“And your little trick of getting disgusting before I could collect won’t work this time. I’ve discovered a way to make sure you’re as clean as possible before I take what you owe me. Hydrochloric acid will make sure there’s not one trace of him anywhere on you.”
I swallow my terror down, straightening my shoulders back. That shit will disfigure me for life. He’s talking torture.
“What do you want, Mickey?” I say, gritting my teeth, and refusing to let the fear bleed into my voice.
“The debt you owe me. You’re still on the hook, regardless of what your little boyfriend says.
You owe me a big chuck of change, Roxanne, and because of his little savior routine,” Mickey juts his chin out towards Ty who’s gained the upper hand and is close to winning by knockout.
His opponent’s trying to block the hits, but Ty’s relentless.
“I’m thinking I should add him and his friend onto your tab.
If you’re not going to pay, maybe I can get it from them and their little business. ”
My eyes widen and my chest squeezes in fear.
“No!” I say quickly, turning around and pleading with Mickey. “Leave them out of this.”