Brutal Boxer by Naomi Porter

7

Boxer

My brothers and I arrived at our hotel in St. Paul. In previous years, we’d spend the night partying like it might be our last. Living it up after Ire and I won our event.

We always won.

Except Ire had lost a couple before the Black Friday event because his head wasn’t in it. He’d been messed up over Ava, the young server who’d been raped on his watch at The Bullet. I’d finally had enough of his bullshit and told him to find out for himself how she was doing. He’d been better after that day and managed to pull out a win by the skin of his teeth.

Hell, I’d barely won myself in the third round. I had a weird feeling something evil was headed for the club.

Now it seemed to have been an omen.

With a threat like Casso Campbell, it would’ve been stupid to leave the compound vulnerable for more than half a day. The safety of our club and family was priority number one.

Storm, Raul, Hero, and Art stayed behind. As the enforcer, I should be there to defend against all threats. Ire too. We were the fighters in the club, for Christ’s sake, but fucking Storm wouldn’t allow it.

While Lynx checked into our room, Wolf wandered off to call Jill again. Apparently, just to be sure all was okay on the homefront. My brother was more than a little unnerved after seeing what Campbell had done to Jill’s friend. I refused to think of my ex beyond her being my sister’s bestie.

“Everything good with Jill?” I asked as he returned.

Lynx waved the keycards in his hand with a big cheesy grin. “Sixth floor. Let’s hit it.”

We followed smiley to the elevator. Lynx was rarely in a foul mood.

Wolf shrugged, his jaw set. “Yeah. Told me not to worry, but you know how it is.” He seemed ready to kill anyone who harmed his woman. Wolf was a mean SOB when he needed to be. The size of a Russian giant, with thick jet black hair and a gnarly-ass beard he left wild.

Timur Orlov, his Russian given name, stood two inches taller than my six two stature and about thirty pounds heavier. He’d crush anyone who threatened him or his loved ones. I was proud to call him my best friend, MC brother, and one day—my brother-in-law. He just needed to get my sister to set a wedding date.

I didn’t know what he meant by you know how it is. I hadn’t been bound to anyone since I was eighteen. Life was uneventful when single. I didn’t prefer it that way, but I had a pretty damn good time without the old ball and chain. I eventually wanted to settle down, like Storm. Even Hero got himself a woman. He went hell for leather putting a ring on her finger, but no wedding date had been set. My money was on Roja holding my brother by the balls. He didn’t want to waste any time. But Tara? Clearly, she was more levelheaded than that hellbent Hero.

Lynx eyed me curiously.

I jerked my chin at him. “What’s with the look?”

He flashed a wry grin. “Didn’t know admiring your pretty face bothered you.”

Track and Wolf snorted.

Lynx was so transparent. Anytime a new female entered the club, he’d start adjusting his dick. If he were a dog, he’d be part Mississippi leg hound, humping anything on legs. The brother itched for a new pussy to sink his dick into. I’d bet he was dying to sample what Aspen had to offer.

He could have her. What did I care?

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” I grumbled, not wanting to have this talk.

The elevator dinged to my relief: conversation over.

We nodded to an older couple who joined our party in the elevator, but only because we didn’t want to seem like assholes like we were most days. None of us talked much to people outside our club. Well, except Lynx, who dealt with a lot of customers out at The Bullet. He loved managing that place.

Two women entered next, the metal doors sliding shut after them.

We were gawked at by the couple and middle-aged women. Typical. We could never go anywhere without people staring and women coming on to us. It annoyed the crap out of me. It wasn’t like we walked around with a sign saying: We welcome your judgment and sexual advances. All we wanted was to be left the hell alone.

Women coming on to me wasn’t as much fun. I love the thrill of the hunt. Catching my prey and owning them. I was more of an animal, compared to Track and Ire. They were a couple of respectful men… Those fuckers were boring with a capital B when it came to picking up women.

Speaking of…

An off-putting scent made me shift closer to the door. I guessed one or both women were smokers. A smoker was an instant no dice for me. There was nothing worse than an attractive woman who tasted like an ashtray when I kissed her, and I fucking loved to kiss.

Aspen’s pink lips came to mind, along with the soft scent of the watermelon lip gloss she used to wear when we were together. Fuck, I’d loved the way it tasted. We’d make out for hours on end, never able to get enough of each other. After we’d had sex for the first time, we fucked like rabbits every chance we got.

Stop it. It’s over and done with. Move the fuck on.

I didn’t want to think about her.

Checking out the two women, they looked like twins wearing matching spandex dresses. One in red, the other in black. They did nothing for me.

No woman had ever appealed to me as much as Snow.

I needed to stop already. My goddamned mind betrayed me. It wouldn’t let me shut her out. This was a big fucking problem.

The elevator stopped on the fourth floor. The elderly couple exited with disgusted expressions. They likely thought we were a group of tattooed miscreants. They wouldn’t be wrong.

We stopped again on the fifth floor, but the women didn’t get out.

I shot them an expectant look.

“This isn’t our floor,” the lady in the red dress said. She batted her lashes, puckering her lips. Brown lipstick? Not my thing. Neither was blonde hair with black roots. She acted interested. Little did she know, I wasn’t fazed.

There was one problem with the woman’s statement. There was only one stop left after the fifth floor. Mine and my brothers’ floor. Someone had to have pushed the button for this stop. And it couldn’t have been the couple who got out a minute ago.

Track and Lynx whispered to each other. Ire stood like a stone statue beside them.

I gave Wolf an all-knowing look. The one that said: Crap, here we go. These women must have taken us all for idiots.

“Yeah…yeah. That old couple probably pushed the button,” the woman in the black dress said. “You know how old people are.” She snorted nervously.

I stared at her. She looked like a walking sarcophagus drenched in copper. Everything was the same shade, from her hair, skin, and lipstick to her jewelry and pumps—way overdone.

“What are you men up to tonight?” The blonde hiccupped as she elbowed her friend, who nodded eagerly, their eyes sizing us up.

“We’re meeting our wives,” Wolf answered before I could.

“Right,” the blonde drawled. “You don’t really expect us to believe that, do you?”

I rolled my eyes just as the door to our floor opened. We stepped out, leaving the women behind.

“Yeah, if you had wives, they’d be with you right now,” the sarcophagus said as they followed us. “No woman would let handsome devils such as yourselves out of sight.”

Wolf gave me a sidelong look.

Lynx muttered something to Track and Ire. Probably wanting a quickie before the match. Not happening. The fucker needed to mind his dick until the event was over and we were back at the club.

It was my turn to deal with these eager women. I wouldn’t be as nice as Wolf.

“Let us buy you boys a drink,” the blonde said. “It’ll be fun.” Her raspy smoker’s voice grated on my nerves.

“No thanks,” I growled as we arrived at our room. Lynx got the door while I turned to face the girls. “Listen, I’m sure you’re both great. But—” I issued them my most charming grin, raising my hands. “We’re not here for pleasure.”

The women smiled wide, not buying what I was selling.

Blondie leaned into me. “Why don’t you let us show you how great we are?” Boldly she ran her fingers down my chest.

With just enough force, I grabbed her wrist, stopping her before she got to my crotch. “You don’t want to do that,” I warned, narrowing my gaze. This brand of persistent women annoyed the shit out of me. They believed if they were ready to put out, every man would want them.

Not in this lifetime.

“Sure, I do.” She pressed her chest into mine.

My brothers snickered behind me. Leave it to those yokels to laugh at my expense.

I glared at Blondie as her coppery counterpart giggled, the tobacco smell turning my stomach.

“No, and I’ll tell you why. We aren’t into women.” I threw off her wrist and stepped inside the room. I pushed the door closed, leaving the women in the hallway to pick their jaws off the floor.

“Shit, man! Do you always have to make us gay when we’re getting hit on?” Wolf tossed his duffel onto one of the beds.

“Would you prefer I act like a prick? You know how women like that are. They don’t take no for an answer. They think if they offer, we’ll fall at their feet. Like we have no standards. Seriously, what’s with some women?”

“Hold up,” Lynx interjected, feigning shock. “We”—he circled his finger—“have standards?” The asshole gaped.

Track dropped onto the bed, laughing. “That’s good, that’s good. Cause we’re a bunch of decent men who don’t like easy fucks!”

“Fuckers,” I bit back. I hated when women assumed shit about me. Just because I looked rough and tough, and was a biker with tattoos, it didn’t mean I thought with my dick instead of my brain. Unlike Lynx. I might even be arrogant and cocky most of the time, but there was more to me. I didn’t sleep with just any pussy on legs. I stuck with the kittens. No complications. Plus, they were regularly tested for STDs.

“Decent men… I like that,” Wolf chuckled—a rarity.

“Whatever.” I gave them the middle finger salute.

Decent was pushing it. But I sure as hell had standards. So did Wolf, Ire, and Track. They were just assholes poking fun.

Lynx squatted to check out the mini-fridge. “Can’t you think of something else to say? You’re a smart guy. Like you could say, ‘Pretty lady, I have a small dick. I would only disappoint you.”

Track, Wolf, and Ire howled with laughter. Ire laughing? Yep, my brother definitely appeared a lot better these days.

I bit down on my molars. “Shut the hell up, already!” Now I was pissed. I unpacked with a fire in my belly, spreading like wildfire through my body.

Lynx’s obnoxious laugh annoyed the shit out of me.

I realized what my brothers were doing. They were getting a rise out of me. Firing me up.

Before I could call them out, Lynx continued in a scrappy, baby voice. “Aw, did I hurt your wittle feelings? I promise to never talk about your itty-bitty-willy again.” It was a horrible attempt on his part, but it did its job.

I balled my hands into fists, ready to beat the shit out of him.

“What the fucks wrong with you?” I roared.

“What?” Lynx coward like he was innocent. My brother’s ridiculous insults were a ploy. Everyone knew I wasn’t focused. I’d lose my ass if I didn’t get my shit together… get angry.

Still, it pissed me off that Lynx would talk shit about my dick. It shouldn’t bug me. My manhood was well endowed. I had nothing to be insecure about. But my reaction wasn’t at all about my cock. It was about Aspen.

“Fuck off, you giant, hairy pussy! I’ll tell all the women that’s what you have in your pants instead of a dick.” I retaliated, throwing my duffel on the floor and went into the bathroom.

The guys laughed, making hissing sounds as if trying to be quiet. Fuckers.

“That would actually be hilarious,” Lynx yelled through the door, banging on it. “I always wondered what it’d be like to have a pussy. You’ll have to tell me what it’s like.”

Motherfucker.