The F King: A Bad Boy Romance(102)
With every passing second, Benny’s struggles became weaker, but it couldn’t come fast enough for me, as I tried like hell to grab Rat One from my ground position and avoid a footprint on my face. It took a few close calls, but on the fifth or sixth attempted stomp, I caught his foot and locked my arms around his lower leg before wrenching backwards.
Rat One’s leg twisted and I heard a twang come from his knee. Sadly for him, he came to the ground close enough for me to hold him with one hand and drop some vicious elbows to his head while the last traces of consciousness slipped from Benny.
When Rat One went limp, I let Benny go and regained my feet. Renato was still sitting in his chair, caught between trying to straighten the lower half of his face and the torturous pain it caused. Rat Two was on the ground, moaning in the middle of a spreading pool of his own blood.
Everybody else was having a snooze.
Renato’s eyes widened in fear as I stalked towards him. I couldn’t understand whatever sounds his broken jaw was limiting him to, but I got the gist.
Reaching out with all the speed of a jab, I grabbed his loose jaw and held it still in the midst of his screams until he quietened down.
“I said, the deal is off, you cunt. If you’re the praying sort, pray that I never see you again. Understand?”
Renato’s frantic squeals were confirmation enough. I circled back around the desk, opened the door as far as I could, due to Al’s limp body lying in front of it like a bulky welcome mat, and left.
The men on their lunchbreak were nowhere to be seen as I headed back to my car. Instead of keying the one parked next to mine, I gave it a hefty kick in the passenger door, before firing mine up and driving back out the gates.
It was a couple of blocks before I realized how far above the speed limit I was, and dialed it back a bit. Holy fucking shit. My whole body was shaking with the aftermath of that rush of adrenaline.
How long had it been since I’d been in a fight where I had half an inkling that I could get seriously hurt? When there was any actual danger? Not since the day I met Ross, maybe? Holy fucking shit.
Five guys. Guns. I fucked them all up without throwing a single punch. I howled in triumph and slammed my palm against the roof of my car. What a fucking rush! Fuck with me and that’s what you got!
I was drunk on the victory, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t help but think about all my street fights, all those amateur and pro fights as I was coming up through the ranks.
The victories had come from lots of submissions, and the odd knock-out, but one thing always remained the same. After the fighting, came the fucking. There was nothing like capping off this feeling with burying my cock into a tight pussy and, lucky me, I knew who had the hottest damn pussy in this city.
I needed to fuck. Right now.
Skylar
Getting any work done was pretty much impossible now. I’d brought a bunch of lecture notes and textbooks to this tutorial room. I knew it was empty for the hour before my Wednesday tutorial, and much quieter than the library.
Within a few minutes of arriving, all that went out the window when Austin called asking me where I was. He sounded halfway between crazed and thrilled with something, but didn’t give me a chance to find out what.
When he asked if I was alone, my confusion only grew.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “Is everything OK?”
“Good. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.”
“What?”
“See you soon, bye.”
The sound of a motor in the background told me he was in a car and pushing it hard, but then the line went dead. I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked at it with a raised eyebrow.
Austin had never visited me on campus before. He usually didn’t have enough spare time in the middle of the day to make it here and back in between training sessions. Maybe now, with the fight so close, he was lowering the intensity or frequency of the workouts. Now that I thought about it, he had mentioned something about that.
The phone call was so rushed that I had no idea when he was actually going to arrive. Thankfully, after ten minutes of trying and failing to recapture my train of thought, my question was answered by another call.
“Hello?”
“I’m looking at a campus directory map thing. Where are you? What building?” he asked.
“The Mendel Building. Room three three one, on the third floor. What’s going on?”
“Mindle Building?”
“Mendel. MEN-DEL.”
I heard him muttering “Mendel” over and over again for a few seconds.
“Gotcha. Three three one. Third floor.”
“What is going on, Austin?”
“You still alone?”
“Yeah.”
“Get your panties off.”