Fighting Dirty

Leese set his drink on the bar and shifted to face Cannon. “He has this way of acting like he’s known everyone forever. You know what I mean?”

“I do.” Cannon, too, set aside his drink. “Armie isn’t easily impressed or intimidated, so to him, no one is a big deal or a problem. He isn’t shy or modest and no one scares him.”

“Oh, I dunno.” This is where Leese felt he had to tiptoe. But Cannon seemed in the mood for a heart-to-heart, so why not? “I think your sister scares him plenty.”

Cannon studied him, then clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “That’s pretty damned observant. And yeah, I’ve always thought the same. It’s because she matters to him. Armie is like a brother to me, but it’s different with Rissy. Not like the significant others with his friends, and not like the women who helped to build his rep.”

“His rep would scare most brothers.”

“Rissy is a really strong person. Independent, too. She knows I’d like to spoil her, but she insists my success is my own and she can take care of herself. But the robbery, being held at gunpoint...” His jaw worked. “Regardless of how she tries, having some bastard maul her and put a gun in her face, that’s not something she’s going to push past. And if I can’t be with her, then I’m glad Armie is.”

Nice that Rissy’s brother was okay with the setup. For her sake, Leese hoped Armie felt the same. But given what he’d witnessed so far, he wasn’t convinced.

Seemed everyone was on board with them being together—except for Armie himself.

When Yvette called him over, Cannon stood. “I’m glad you’re keeping an eye out for her.”

“No problem.” Hell, all the ladies, especially Vanity and Rissy, considered him a confidant. For whatever reason, they trusted him with their secrets, and their worries. Leese wasn’t sure if that was a compliment to his character, or an insult to his masculinity.

“You might not see it,” Cannon continued, “and Armie would deny needing it, but do me a favor and keep an eye out for him, too, will you?”

“You’re serious?”

Cannon nodded. “Everyone is so used to Armie being outrageous, it’s tough to notice when he’s struggling. It’s not the workload, and it’s not the SBC debut. But seeing Rissy threatened—that put him in a tailspin.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Leese just naturally looked after kids or women or whatever. Old people or stray dogs. But Armie was a phenomenon. A natural fighter that everyone assumed would carve a straight line to the title belt. How the hell would Leese be of any help?

“You’re single. If you see him out and about and he has a problem, any problem, whether you think he’d want your interference or not, let me know.”

“Sure.” But it felt weird as shit to babysit Armie “Quick” Jacobson.

“Thanks. And Leese? Keep it to yourself.”

“What?”

“All of it. Anything to do with my sister or Armie.”

Yeah, that was the big brother speaking, what he’d expected all along. “For the record,” Leese said evenly, “I would have done that without the warning.”

“I figured. Thanks.”

Cannon no sooner left than Justice and Brand joined him. A few minutes after that, several ladies invited them to their table. Leese soon had his mind on other things—like the cute brunette who invited him back to her place.

Right before they left, he heard two of her friends ask about Armie, and he smiled. Since he knew Rissy wasn’t the type to share, he figured Armie was off the market, at least for now.

And if Rissy got her way, Armie would never have another three-way. He almost felt sorry for him—except that Rissy was a catch, and if the lucky SOB didn’t screw it up, Leese was pretty sure she was the one woman who could make Armie a very satisfied man.

CHAPTER NINE

THE NEXT MORNING, Armie woke when Rissy left the bed. He cracked open an eye and watched her pull on a sweatshirt. Shame to cover that sweet body. When she peeked back at him, he closed his eyes and feigned sleep.

Being with her like this was incredible, but also left him reeling. How long could he keep her?

He sensed her moving closer to the bed, and then the mattress dipped.

He turned to face her, saw her startled expression and said with stern warning, “You weren’t planning to write on my ass again, were you?” It had taken her a damn hour scrubbing with rubbing alcohol to finally get the marker removed.

Part of the problem was her distraction. She kept pausing to fondle his balls, or kiss the back of his thigh...

“Rissy?”

Holding up both hands to show she didn’t have a marker, she bit back a grin. “I was just looking to see if it was all gone.”

“You damn near scrubbed my skin off.”

“Want me to kiss it?”

That did it. Full-blown boner. “C’mere.” He caught her and dragged her into the bed atop him, then wrestled off the sweatshirt she’d just put on.

Unfortunately, when he started to kiss her, she stiff-armed him. “Wait!”

“Okay.” Releasing her and scooting up in the bed to sit against the headboard, he asked, “What’s up?”

Fussing, she pulled up the sheet to partially cover her body, then smoothed back her hair. But her longer than long legs were right there, her feet tucked under her, and she looked like a wet dream come to life. “I need to brush my teeth.”

First time a woman ever said that to him. But then again, he didn’t have many morning-after conversations with women. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “And I need...makeup. And a shower. We both need a shower.”

Her modesty softened his heart. “You saying I stink?”

“No!” Immediately she was against him, her nose in his neck, brushing against him and making his dick harder. “You smell so good.”

Armie laughed—and subtly tried to lead her hand south. “I was teasing, Stretch.”

Not so subtly, she tucked her hand under the sheet and wrapped her warm, slender fingers around him. “Mmm. You want me again?”

God, he wanted her always. “Yeah.”

“I’d like to shower with you.”

“Okay, sure.” Hard to talk now with her stroking him.

Hesitant, she tipped her face back to see him. “The thing is, I’m not sure what we’re doing.”

Easy enough. “You’re jerking me off and I’m close to losing it.”

Laughing, her hand going idle on his junk, she whispered, “You are so bad.”

“I’m not the one with a dick in my hand.”

“Armie.” Surprising him, she crawled up and over him to sit on his abdomen.

He felt the heat of her on his stomach, how her silken inner thighs hugged his ribs. Looking beyond her, he caught the reflection of her back and small bottom in the big mirror on the wall. Slender and sexy and, for now, all his.

“Damn, Stretch, I like this even better.” Fingers spread, he coasted his hands from her knees up the outside of her thighs to her bottom cheeks. Watching her intently, he traced her cleft—and saw her face go pink as he let his fingers play.

That turned him on more, so he urged her forward a little until she balanced on her knees over him. Putting one hand under her, he found her heated vulva with his fingertips—and saw everything reflected in the mirror.