Fighting Dirty. Lori Foster
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saw the crowds right away. Figured a big shot like Jude Jamison would draw in the gawkers. Slinging the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder, he headed in.
Wasn’t easy, not with an influx of semiswooning ladies all jockeying for better positions in the crowd. “Excuse me,” he said about a dozen times until he finally reached Harper, Gage’s wife.
She stood on tiptoe, and she smiled.
Armie said, “Not you, too.”
She elbowed him. “It’s Jude Jamison.”
“Yeah, so?”
Harper turned to blink at him. “He’s a movie star!”
“Used to be.” But Jude had left that all behind.
“Once a movie star, always a movie star.” Harper sighed. “Just look at him. He’s gorgeous.”
“They’re both gorgeous,” another woman said.
Armie leaned around them to see the mat and realized Jude and Cannon were sparring together. He grinned. “Got your ovaries aching, huh?”
Harper elbowed him again. The other gal sighed, “Yes.”
Shaking his head, Armie sidled past them until he’d reached a more open area where the other fighters stood. Gage immediately asked him, “Harper still all moony-eyed?”
“’Fraid so.”
“I’ll get her mind on other things once we’re out of here.” He bobbed his eyebrows to ensure everyone understood his meaning.
Leese nodded at the mat. “Jude said he hadn’t done any actual sparring for a while, but it doesn’t show. He’s still slick with his moves.”
“And those direct shots,” Gage added, then slanted a look at Armie. “How he throws a punch, straight and fast, reminds me a little of you.”
Folding his arms, Armie watched for a minute and noticed that Cannon was holding back. A smart move, really. No reason for Jamison to get hurt or for Cannon to stroke his own ego when there was a lot more to be gained in a good relationship with someone of Jamison’s caliber.
Then to Armie’s surprise, the men finished up and Jamison said, “Thanks for going easy on me.” He grinned like he’d had the time of his life.
Armie understood the feeling. For a man who liked to use his strength and test his speed, there wasn’t anything else like MMA.
Cannon laughed. “You haven’t lost it, that’s for sure.”
“I stay in shape,” Jamison said. “But there’s in shape and then there’s fighting shape. In this business, speed is the first thing to go and it makes all the difference between a champion and a mediocre contender.” He clapped Cannon on the back. “Thanks for indulging me.”
“Anytime.”
They stopped in front of Armie, and Jamison, after freeing himself from the fingerless gloves, offered his hand. “Armie, thanks for coming in early.”
Cannon snorted. “He’s here all the time. Believe me, this is late.”
Armie felt his neck go hot. He was late because he’d been sleeping with Merissa. Best rest he’d had in forever, too. “Not a problem. So what’s on the agenda? Cannon said you wanted to see me?”
“I’ve got all day. Mind if I just watch your normal routine for a while? After that, we’ll all sit down and talk.”
Rolling a shoulder, Armie said, “Sure. Suit yourself.”
For the next three hours he tuned everyone out and went through his usual workout. Normally he could get into the zone and his brain would be blessedly clear. This time though, even as he went from throwing hard punches and solid kicks, to grappling with other fighters, and then to lifting weights, his thoughts stayed centered on Merissa. True, he’d been hammered last night, but not so far gone that he didn’t remember the stirring way she’d removed those formfitting jeans.
When she’d bent to push them down, her long hair had tumbled forward, almost touching the floor. Her dark hair had inspired plenty of fantasies for him. And those beautiful bright blue eyes—they were the same color as her brother’s, and both siblings had thick, dark lashes, but on Merissa the look was sexy as hell. So many times he’d imagined anchoring her with his hands fisted in that silky hair, staring into her mesmerizing blue eyes and riding her hard until he watched her quicken, then felt her come.
He could almost feel it now, those long, slim legs hugged around him, hear the catch in her breathing, feel the wet slickness...
“Ready to spar?”
Drawing a deep breath, he turned to Leese and saw he wore headgear and had his mouthpiece handy.
Leese grinned. “We played paper/scissors/rock and I lost.”
Not understanding, Armie shook his head.
“Not sure if it’s for Jude’s benefit or if you’re pissed about something, but you’re really pounding out the workout today.”
Armie frowned, glanced out at the room and saw a whole lot of people watching. What the hell? He wasn’t a Hollywood star like Jamison so they could all just go about their business.
To Leese, he said, “You can take whatever I throw at you.”
Leese grunted. “Going to be one of those days, huh?” He followed Armie to the corner where he had his gear. “Truthfully, though, I like it. Better opportunity for me to learn.”
Since the improved attitude was still a somewhat new turnaround for Leese, who had, at one point, been something of a dick, Armie always enjoyed working with him. He learned fast, put his heart into it and was proving to be a better fighter than any of them had expected. Armie wasn’t sure if Leese had what it took to be a champion, but he could put on one hell of a fight.
After wedging in his mouth guard and fastening on his headgear, Armie said, “Let’s go.”
For another hour they sparred. Armie alternately put it to Leese, and then instructed him. That was all well and good, but then Jude wanted to see Cannon with him.
“You too tired?” Jamison asked him.
Cannon spoke for him, saying, “Armie has more energy than any fighter I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t gas out, ever.”
Rolling his eyes over that effusive praise, Armie said, “If you were a chick I wouldn’t mind getting stroked, but from another dude it’s getting weird.”
Cannon laughed. “So you are tired?”
“I’m fine.”
Jamison studied him. “I’d say by those bloodshot eyes you had a night of it.”
New heat joined that from exertion. Again he said, “I’m fine.”
Jamison looked at Cannon, who smirked, and they both laughed.
“Yuck it up.” Armie flexed his shoulders. “We’ll see who wears down.”
Cannon joined him on the mat. “Challenging me?”
He sent his friend a mean grin. “You won’t be any good to Yvette tonight.”
“Boys, boys,” Jamison said, but Armie could tell he loved this shit. “I don’t want anyone mangled. Just spar so I can see the moves, okay?”
Cannon said, “Yeah, Yvette prefers me physically available.”
They all laughed over that.
Apparently Jude Jamison didn’t realize that he and Cannon were like brothers and one would never hurt the other. Of course, it was possible Cannon might drop down a weight class one day. If he did and the SBC set them up to actually compete against each other, they’d both give it their all. But that was for sport, without an