Fight Dirty (Black Rose Kisses 1)

Scarlett’s dancing in front of me, her eyes closed and a smile on her face. When a guy slides into a free spot behind her and starts dancing with her, she just goes with it, grinding back on him and dropping it low to the beat of the song. I laugh, glad to see her enjoying herself, and even happier to be here with her. I keep dancing, letting the beat take over, my body moving to the rhythm.

A few seconds later, I can feel someone moving in behind me, pressing themselves close to my back and then a little closer. I turn my head to see a guy, taller than me with sandy blond hair and dark eyes. He grins, and I smile back before turning around again and pressing back into him more.

There’s a low chuckle that I can just barely hear over the music, and he puts his hands on my waist so he can drag me even further back. I match my movements to his, grinding on him, swaying my ass and letting the slow, thumping beat of the song set the pace.

It’s easy like this, just to lose myself in it. Not worrying about anything, just out with my best friend, feeling the beat of the song and the adrenaline of having a good time working through me.

I think about getting another drink once the song is over, or finding another partner to dance with, and it’s almost like things are back to the way they were before all this shit started. They aren’t, but it’s much easier to pretend when I don’t have Sloan and his cronies in my face or climbing up my ass about what I want to do.

I catch Scarlett’s eye, and she gives me an exaggerated wink and a thumbs up. I shake my head but laugh anyway.

There’s a second where the song is about to change, the beat of the new one fading in over the beat of the old one, and I push my hair back out of my face, feeling the sweat from being packed in with so many other people beading on my brow.

Before the next song can even play, I hear a sudden yelp and a curse from the guy behind me. I barely have time to look over my shoulder into the suddenly vacated space before I’m being lifted up and slung over a strong, broad shoulder.

For a second, I’m too stunned to do anything, and I look down, trying to figure out who the fuck has their hands on me. I recognize the back of the shirt and the pants as the outfit Sloan was wearing.

Of fucking course.

“Let me go,” I snarl. But it’s mostly lost as the song picks up steam, the thumping beat blaring through the space.

With long, heavy strides, Sloan starts carrying me out of the club, and I’m left with the sight of Scarlett staring at me, open mouthed.

She’s not the only one either. Everyone who was dancing around us is looking, wide eyed, and I can feel humiliation burning through me, hot on the heels of the ever-present annoyance that these guys make me feel.

We’re outside almost before I’ve processed what’s happening. The air outside is like a slap in the face after the close heat of being packed in with so many other bodies, but my face is still flushed with embarrassment and anger.

Raising my arm, I bring my elbow down hard against Sloan’s side, right above his kidney. He grunts in pain, his body tensing up instinctively against the blow.

I elbow him again, and he sets me down hard. The second I’m on my feet, I lunge for him, trying to get my knee between his legs so I can slam it right into his balls. He twists, avoiding the strike, and holds me at arm’s length, gray eyes snapping with fury.

“We’re not here to be your personal fucking bodyguards when you attract low-lives by grinding on their junk on the dance floor,” he practically spits.

I narrow my eyes at him, arms folded. He’s being a jerk, but that’s nothing new. He’s been a jerk since the moment I met him. What is new is the possessive look in his eyes and the way he’s being so damn over-protective. What does he care if I grind with a stranger in the club? It’s none of his fucking business.

“Fuck off,” I shoot back. “You told me we could go out tonight, and I’ll dance with whoever the fuck I want. You don’t like it? Don’t watch.”

I turn to go back into the club, but Rory grabs me around the waist and starts towing me back to the car. He pins my arms by my sides in a move that reminds me of the first night I met him, when he dragged me away from the locker room where I was trying to protect my dad.

I didn’t even see him or Levi step outside with us. But they’re both here, of course. These three are like each other’s shadows, constantly together, always backing each other up.

“Come on, Hurricane,” Rory grunts.

I struggle against his hold, but that just reminds me that he’s the only one of these three who’s actually a trained fighter. He dodges my attempt at a headbutt again, and as the few people who are gathered outside the club turn to look at us, I have to weigh how much of a fight I want to make this.

If I get the cops called on these guys or something, I doubt that’ll go well for my dad. Or me.

We end up in the back seat as usual, and Rory pulls me right down into his lap. Now that no one can see us, I resume my struggles, fighting his hold. The last thing I want is to be held right now, but he’s not letting go.

I think about elbowing him right in the chest, but even as I consider it, I realize that he’s not upset at all about my struggling. Far from it, judging from the hardness I can feel under my ass. It’s just like when we were sparring, and he pressed that long, hard length against me.

My face is hot, but it’s not just from being pissed anymore, and I feel a flash of arousal burn through me, right alongside my anger and embarrassment. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been manhandled this way, but it’s becoming too much of a trend with these fucking assholes.

As much as I hate it, I have to admit there’s something hot about the way they can just pick me up and put me where they want me to be. It turns me on, and I fight the urge to clench my legs together and feed the fire that’s trying to spread.

Levi starts the car, and as we pull away from the curb, I take that opportunity to crawl out of Rory’s lap, breaking his hold finally as he relaxes his grip. He’s still grinning, and I try my best to ignore him, pulling out my phone so I can text Scarlett and let her know what happened.

There’s already a message from her waiting for me, and I sigh softly when I read it.