Fight For Me (Alvey Kulina/OFC) Chapter Four!
Worcount: 6511
Triggers: Graphic descriptions of violence, guns, fighting, sexual themes, depression, strong language, mentions of abuse (flashback)
A/N: I hate Lisa, ok... Never liked her. She's a self-absorved jealous bitch! And I'm going to portray her as such. Please don't kill me for it.
CHAPTER FOUR - DOWN MEMORY LANE!
Alyssa opens her eyes and looks up at the ceiling. It’s made with dark wooden panels; so dark that it feels like it’s eating the whole room up. How the fuck anyone could call this place a hotel was beyond her. She turns to her side; this fucking mattress made her feel like she was on the floor rather than in a bed. Fuck this shit.
She rearranges her pillow, and then she looks over at Nate; still sound asleep in the bed next to hers. God, Nate, she thinks to herself, her eyes softening as she continues to look at him. Why can’t you just see how strong and resilient you are and just find your own path in the world? She continues to talk to him in her head. He didn’t need to fight, he didn’t have to follow in his fathers footsteps; Nate had so many qualities that he could monetize. For one she thought he would do very well in medicine, and that would mean that he could still be in the fighting world. Unlike Alvey and Jay, Nate had this softness to him. Ally couldn’t quite tell where that came from, because both Jay and Nate had grown up in the same world, both had experienced their mother leaving, and then her leaving; she still felt bad about that. So she had no idea why Nate had this quiet softness to him, something she never saw in Jay or Alvey.
"Screw you, Alvey," she murmurs as she shifts in bed. The previous night, she had come back to the room quite late, having had one too many drinks and being approached by far too many questionable men. She had thought about retreating to the room several times, but somehow it felt easier to give those shady guys a fierce look than to face Alvey in his current condition. When she finally returned, Alvey was fast asleep, or at least he had the sense to pretend he was. She was grateful for that. The way he had her pinned against the wall awakened something within her; a feeling she thought had long since vanished. And then there was his hand over her mouth. He was right; it had been ages since he last did that, and the last time was to silence her moans. Shit. She couldn’t go back there. As much as she desired it, she knew she couldn’t. Things were already going downhill, and she didn’t want to accelerate the process. Alvey would eventually find a 'special friend' anyway; it was better if she wasn’t in the picture when that happened.
She lets out a groan while rubbing the last remnants of sleep from her eyes.
"Couldn’t you have waited until tonight to drink?" Alvey remarks more than inquires, as he gets out of bed.
"Screw you, Alvey," she snaps back, though she can’t help but glance at him.
He stands there in just his boxer briefs, his muscular thighs straining against the thin fabric. The noticeable bulge in front indicates that every part of him is alert and ready to embrace the day.
Alyssa rolls her eyes at him. "Couldn’t you have stayed under the covers until it wasn’t so obvious?" she shoots back, her tone sharper than intended. She hadn’t meant to come off so aggressive; she simply lacked the time and energy for this. The physical attraction was already overwhelming, and now... Fuck. Just looking at him made her feel a rush of desire.
He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "You’ve never complained before," he points out. Perhaps that was pushing it a bit, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. He wanted to read her expression, to understand her true feelings about him. Was it safe to make a move, or should he hold off a little longer? Being this close to her without being able to touch was torturous, a craving he couldn’t fulfill.
"Give it a rest Alvey," she responds, getting out of her bed as well. That might not have been the wisest choice, considering she was only in her underwear. She realized she wasn’t exactly calming the situation. "You’re not God's gift to Women," she added, though her tone lacked conviction.
He stands there, watching her as she grabs her bag and forcefully shuts the bathroom door behind her. A smile creeps onto his face. It may not be their moment just yet, but they are on the right path. Hopefully, it will be soon; otherwise, he’ll have to deal with his own yearning, which is far less fulfilling.
Nate, who had been feigning sleep while eavesdropping on the conversation, seizes the opportunity when the bathroom door slams shut to act as if he’s just waking up. He yawns and stretches, doing his best with his limited acting skills.
"Morning," Alvey tosses in his direction, though his thoughts are still tangled up with Ally. He hears the shower turn on, and his imagination runs wild. He envisions them together in there—him pinning her against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailing over her skin. "Fuck," he exhales softly, almost inaudibly, but just loud enough for Nate to overhear.
Nate closes his eyes and tilts his head back in frustration. This was far worse than he had imagined. So much so that he thought about having a conversation with Ally regarding it. The problem was, he didn’t know how to approach it. He realized he couldn’t control any of them. If they wanted to sabotage everything for everyone, they would. Even though the contract he had helped create made Ally a part-owner of Navy St., she still had the freedom to leave. She couldn’t be fired, but she could definitely walk away. And if she and Alvey... well, he didn’t want to go down that path. But if it happened, she would surely leave. The cycle would repeat itself.
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She lifts her face up letting the water cascade over it, as to wash off a sin or something. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She couldn’t deal with this right now. Couldn’t deal with that burning desire deep within her core. Screw Alvey, Screw this fight, Screw Navy St., Screw Lisa, Screw the whole damned thing. Fuck. She didn’t have time for this. Nate was about to enter the cage and face an opponent who would snap him like a twig. Then she and Alvey would face another argument, and she knew; she just knew that the amount of time that was left before they both had to submit to their desires was limited; if it even existed at all at this point. Fuck him, fuck his powerful thighs straining against the fabric of his boxers and fuck that bulge in the front. Fuck him.
She couldn’t help it, she sensed it even before her hand started to glide its way up her body; over her stomach, up to her breast, pinching the nipple a bit. Fuck, they’re already peeking, hard and ready. Her hand travels further up, her thumb and index finger on either side of her jaw, tilting her own head up. Oh fuck, she can already feel the warmth between her thighs.
This was usually how their sexual encounters began, a bit rougher of course. Since he was a strong fighter guy, and she was well a woman. It was always rough, without exception. Probably because it always happened during an argument. She wasn’t quite sure why that just kept happening, but she remembers that first time. She’ll never forget that first time.
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Venice Beach CA 9 years ago
The car, a blue Audi, has the engine still running. The figure inside just watches the entrance of the gym; no movement. The figure just watches, waiting.
“Is that him?” Alvey turns towards Alyssa. She looks scared, and she’s a woman that doesn't scare easily. “Ally, is that him?” He asks again when she doesn’t reply. In fact, instead of replying, she positions herself behind Ryan and Lisa. That move pisses him off more than he cares to admit. No man ever touches a woman without facing consequences for it; especially here, on his ground, his sanctuary. Fuck this!
Without a second thought he marches towards the vehicle, blows himself up to appear bigger while his blood reaches boiling point. “Get out of the car you fuck,” he screams as he continues to march towards the figure.
Alyssa, Lisa and Ryan are now peeking around the corner. Ryan is preparing to step in if anything goes south, Alyssa readies herself to stop Alvey if he goes too far and Lisa; Lisa only watches. She knew that Ryan was a fighter, he’d told her that when they were at the dating stage of their relationship. It was just that she never fully understood what that was. Not until today. And she was unsure what to make of it. And that girl Alyssa, about her age, but still so much more adapted to this life. Was she jealous? Yeah, absolutely. Alyssa was stunning, dark brown hair, a body to die for and she knew how to fight. Ryan had told her that Alvey had taught her, and that her father was Alexander Stavos; like Lisa was just supposed to know who that was right off the bat. She didn’t. Alyssa had it all; the body, the looks, the education and since she was the ‘medic’ for these guys, she was allowed to touch Ryan without her having any say in it. She hated Alyssa, hated her.
Alvey can see that the doors are locked as he reaches the vehicle. “Fucker,” he mumbles, and then; without any hesitation, he puts his fist through the drivers side window. “Get out of the fucking car you pussy!” He screams, grabbing the guy by his collar and drags him out of the car.
Ryan steps into view, he has no intention of intervening, but it might help to just show himself. Anyway, Alvey had this covered, any man who hit a woman obviously didn’t know how to fight real men.
Alyssa steps out beside Ryan. She just watches what's unfolding before her. She knew that her and Alvey had some kind of special bond, but that was mostly because she followed him everywhere; every trip, every fight, everything. She knew his injuries, his blood type, hell she even knew that he had a birthmark on his lower back, very low. But this; him stepping into the trenches for her, she never knew their bond was that deep.
“You fucking piece of shit,” Alvey screams before his fist conects with the guys face. “Fucking woman beater,” he continues hitting him again. The other guy has no chance at all. He can’t even get a word out. Alvey just keeps hitting him.
Alyssa slowly intertwined her arm with Ryan’s, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She’s scared, pissed and weirdly proud all at the same time. “Should we stop him?” She whispers.
Lisa’s heart skips a beat as she witnesses Alyssa touching Ryan like that. One thing was her touching him when he needed medical attention; but this? Fuck Alyssa. She obviously already had Alvey’s undivided attention, so what the fuck was she doing flirting with Ryan like that.
“I should fucking kill you,” Alvey continues to scream at the guy. He yanks the car door open, showing the guy halfway into the car before he kicks the door into his back over and over. “You beating women? You fucking find out what happens when you beat women!” He continues to scream.
Finally Ryan moves, he figures that if he doesn’t stop him, Alvey will kill this guy.
“He’s out cold,” Ryan informs Alvey when he reaches him. “Kulina, he’s out,” he continues.
Finally Alvey stops. Panting as he takes one last look at the guy. “Fucking loser,” he spits. Then he looks at Ryan and Alyssa. Ryan looks relieved, but Alyssa… she looks… pissed. He just kicked her abuser's ass and she’s pissed. Fuck, he can never win with her. “Come on, let’s go inside,” he finally says, placing his arm protectively around Alyssa as they walk back into the gym.
“This is not a masculinity contest,” Alyssa yells at Alvey. It wasn’t actually meant to sound angry, she was more slightly upset and scared than mad. But when Ryan and Lisa had left, Lisa had looked at her with that look. Oh fuck how she knew that look. It had always been a part of her life; growing up around fighters she got to know them. And after she became King Kulina’s personal medic the looks increased. Alvey was married for fuck’s sake, and yet no one, at least not as she noticed gave Christina any of those looks. And Lisa had Ryan. Ok, Ryan Wheeler might not be a big name yet, but he would be. Why the fuck was Lisa mad at her? She had no interest whatsoever in Ryan Wheeler. There was only one man she craved, and he was married.
“Sit down!” She continued, pushing Alvey down to a chair. “Stupid macho shit,” she mutters. Mostly she just wants to storm out, forget this night ever happened. Rewind time and never tell Alvey about Emmanuel at all.
She does as she always does after a fight, one hand on each side of his face looking into his eyes. “He didn’t get a punch in,” he tells her, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I know,” she replied, something had shifted between them tonight, and she was unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Unfortunately she tended to get angry when she was unsure about stuff.
“Then why are you checking my head?” He questions, looking at her with that intense look. He knew Alyssa was a good woman. He knew she’d never intentionally hurt anyone. And oh god he knew that the last thing she wanted was to be labelled a homewrecker. It was just that he wanted her so bad he was about to go insane. Should he have told her before? Absolutely. He should have told her the first time he felt that her hands on his body made his breath hitch. He should have told her one of the many times she massaged his shoulders even though that wasn’t really in her job description. He should have told her when she stitched him up last time, and all he wanted was to kiss her. Fuck he should have told her.
“Because you act like a macho maniac, you jump into situations without thinking about the consequences, you spit on your car…,”
That’s all she manages to say before he in one swift move stands up, grabs her shoulders, turns them around, pins her against the wall with his body while his hand encircles her throat. “Shut up,” he breathes.
“Alv…,” she lets out before he locks lips with her. No matter how much she detests herself for making out with a married man, she couldn’t stop. Didn’t want it to stop. She could hate herself for this; it was worth it.
“You… You’re married,” she moans out when he lets his lips trail down her neck, letting his teeth tease her skin.
“I don’t care,” he responds, grabbing her hair and spinning them around again, his free hand once again encircling her throat forcing her to walk backwards towards the cage that’s placed in the middle of the gym. “I don’t fucking care,” he goes on, pushing her down, effectively making her crawl backwards into the cage.
The second he kneels on top of her she grabs his t-shirt; her hands caressing his skin as she gets it off him. Of course she’d touched him before, but not like this.
The second his shirt is off he starts with hers, slowly moving his hands up her body. She places her arms outstretched over her head, helping him. He takes his time, his upper body glides over her face, allowing her to taste his skin.
She knows this is wrong, she knows he doesn’t belong to her. But she can’t stop, her whole body aches for him. She wants him sweaty, naked and buried deep inside her. Her mouth is half open when he lets his upper body glide back down, making her bottom lip map out every curve, every muscle.
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"Oh no," Alyssa moans. "I really need some earplugs," she adds. The last three drinks from the previous night had traveled from her liver to her head overnight, creating a sensation as if her skull might burst. The relentless cheers from the crowd surrounding the cage only amplified her discomfort. Her anxiety for Nate compounded her distress.
"In the right corner...." the promoter announces into the microphone, but Alyssa tunes it all out. She shuts her eyes and concentrates on calming her racing heart. Although she didn’t believe in a higher power, she found herself silently wishing for Nate's safety. Winning wasn’t essential; he simply needed to make it through.
She glances at the crowd once more; a sketchy bunch, all sipping lukewarm beers from flimsy plastic cups. She was familiar with the routine, but at a legitimate, fair event, there would at least be coolers, bars, and staff to tidy up afterward. This entire atmosphere made her stomach churn, and it wasn’t solely due to her concern for Nate.
"And in the left corner..." the promoter's voice booms again. Half of his speech doesn't even register in her mind. "Nate Kulina!" he announces, putting extra emphasis on the T in Nate and dragging out the A in Kulina for maximum effect. This was a customary approach at fights, intended to make the fighter's name sound more intimidating. But now, even though the Kulina name had its own intimidating aura, the other fighter seemed completely unaffected by it.
She inhales deeply once more, glancing at Alvey beside her. He appears tense, as he always does before a match, so that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Please, Nate, she thinks, taking another deep breath. Just make it through three rounds, just fifteen minutes in total. Just keep your guard up for those fifteen minutes. The intensity of her thoughts is so strong that she almost wishes he could hear them.
Then the bell rings, and for Alyssa, the sound is nearly overwhelming. "Fuck," she exhales, fighting to keep her composure. This was destined to go awry. Shady fights typically did; she had seen enough of them to understand that no one would come to her aid when things went south. It would be just her and Alvey, and Alvey didn’t know the first thing about medical care.
She noticed it almost instantly. Nate stood no chance; it seemed as if his mind wasn’t even in the game. It was as if he was subconsciously wishing to fail. For a fleeting moment, she almost suspected he had wagered against himself. But her musings were abruptly interrupted when Nate took a punch to the jaw.
Time seemed to stretch, as if she were watching a scene unfold in slow motion. She felt as though she could see the sweat, spit, and blood flying through the air from the impact. The entire event lasted just a few seconds, before the slow motion shattered with a resounding thud as Nate crashed to the ground.
"Get up," Alvey spat through clenched teeth, his fists tightly balled at his sides. Yet she knew, deep down, that Nate was out cold. She could tell by the way he fell, how his legs buckled beneath him, and the sudden loss of strength in his shoulders.
Before Alvey could even react she was halfway to the cage entrance. The crowd was still cheering, unaware of the situation before them. Stupid uneducated fuckers the lot of them. Her fear and anger cuts off any resemblance of rational behavior, so when a guy grabs her to try and stop her from entering the cage, she reacts purely by instinct. “Get,” she spits before turning to face him “off,” she continues placing her knee as hard as she possibly can into his crotch. Watching him kneel to the ground in front of her with that confused expression on his face; a mix of pain and surprise is fucking magical. “Off me,” with the last words she places her foot on his abdomen and kicks him backwards. She knows she might face consequences, but it won’t be anything she can’t handle. This is an illegal fight anyway, so no one can sue her or the business. And right now; right now she only wants to get to Nate. That’s all that matters.
Her irrational behavior obviously helped, because no one tried to stop her after that, instead they all scrambled to leave before shit hit the fence. A bunch of fucking losers, every last one of them. But that was established already. Betting rings usually gathered the poorly educated crowds. The people who would never knew a real fight if it hit them in the back of their fucking heads.
With the noise from the crowd gone she could hear the thud her body made when she fell to her knees beside Nate. The sound resembled his knockout, making her nauseous, but she had a job to do. Placing two fingers on his neck to check for a pulse. It’s beating steadily. Thank God. “911,” she yells at Alvey as he tosses her medical bag over to her.
Thank God Ally had her shit together, and from the looks of it she had kept on training as well. Alvey needed to ask her about that later. Watching her tackling a guy at least twice her size to the ground made him both proud and horny. Proud because he taught her everything she knew about fighting. And horny; well it was Alyssa after all. The only woman he… No, he couldn’t go there right now.
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“How are you feeling?” Alyssa's kind voice rings out beside his bed. He knew where he was, although some things were a bit hazy; he knew where he was. And he also knew that Alyssa had followed him there, which also meant that Alvey had left before the ambulance had arrived. He never understood why she kept doing that, why she kept protecting Alvey from facing trouble. But he figured that their relationship might play a part in it.
“Like I took a punch in the jaw,” he replies, turning his head to look at her. She doesn’t look mad or disappointed, even though she had every right to be. But that was Alyssa, always the caregiver. Strong and resilient, but still so full of love to give.
“Nate,” she started, but she didn’t know how to finish that sentence. He didn’t need her to point fingers. He needed her care, he needed her to understand.
“You can say it,” he rasped, his throat was dry as hell, but every time he tried to move it felt like his head was about to explode. He was relieved that she didn’t point fingers at him right now, but at the same time he had to admit that he might need that, hell he even deserved it.
“Say what?” She asked, her voice soft as she grabbed a glass from a tray, filled it with water and handed it to him. “Drink,” she instructed.
“I told you so,” he replied after emptying the glass.
She only smiled at him. Didn’t want to tell him, she didn’t have to anyway, he already knew and that was enough for now. “Just…,” she started. “Just don’t do it again,” she went on filling the glass up again, handing it back to him. “You might not be so lucky as to end up with only a concussion next time,” she informed him as he emptied yet another glass.
“I feel like my head is about to explode,” he groans, closing his eyes. He was tired, tired and hungry. Over the past week the most filling thing he had was Wheeler’s protein shake and an avocado, nothing to quell his need for something tasty, and now his body truly felt the consequences.
“Get some rest, Nate,” she almost whispered, letting her hand glide over his head. “They wanted to keep you here for observation overnight,” she continued. “We’ll pick you up tomorrow,” she added. Spending the night alone with Alvey would be challenging, but if he followed his usual pattern he’d be shit faced once she returned, so she sorta hoped she could just go to bed and not have to face her desires just yet.
“Great,” Nate breathed. Hospital food was just what he needed right now. Jello with no taste and food with no seasoning. “Just, great,” he repeated.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” she leaned down, getting something out of her bag, placing it on his bedside table. “It’ll be our little secret," she whispered.
He turned his head, on the table next to him were two cola cans, a chocolate bar and a bag of chips. He couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t changed at all. She was still Ally, through and through. “Ally,” he said as she opened the door to leave.
“Yes,” she let go of the handle and turned towards him. It felt like he yearned to tell her something important. It felt like it was more than to just say thank you for the care package she left him.
He just looked at her for a while, contemplating on whether to tell her or not. He knew she’d understand, even be supportive. And he also knew that she could keep a secret, that she would protect him. “Thank you,” he finally said. Mentally kicking himself for being so weak. For not trusting her enough. It was just hard, once he voiced it it would be true, like really true and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that yet.
“You’re welcome,” she smiled before walking out into the hallway.
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It’s starting to get dark when she returns to the hotel. She knew she needed to go to bed, to get some rest, but fuck how she felt the urge to get shit faced and just forget all about this fucking day.
Yes, she made a choice to ask Alvey to leave before the ambulance arrived. Not wanting to taint Navy St. With the rumors of illegal fights. And she also made the choice to tell the paramedics that she had brought Nate there alone. When she told them they looked at her with that look, disgusted almost. She could feel it deep in her bones, that they thought she had an affair with a guy young enough to be her son. In any other situation she would have stood up for herself and denied the whole thing, but she didn't have the energy for that. So instead she just gave them whatever information they needed, put the insurance under her own name and just sucked it up. Fuck! She hated herself for it, felt disgusted with what they must have been thinking about her, hends the urge to get shit faced tonight and manipulate her brain to not make new memories; at least for a little while.
When she came back, she caught sight of the promoter at the bar, seemingly waiting to finalize his earnings and settle with the bettors. A part of her was tempted to charge in and confront him, but she chose to restrain herself. The paramedics' judgmental stares had been more than enough; she didn't want to add attempted murder to her troubles. Making a scene at this point could risk their removal, and the last thing she wanted was to be stuck in the car with Alvey for the night.
She stopped for a moment outside the door, looking at the number, as to make sure this was actually the room. God how she hoped that Alvey would be either drunk or asleep, because this was one of those days where she knew she would give in to her desires. And that would just not be good, or well that would be incredible, but the aftermath. Fuck this shit, just fuck it.
Alvey wasn’t asleep, of course he wasn’t. Just her luck. He’s sitting in a chair facing away from the door as she enters, a glass of whiskey on the table next to him.
“You see this is what happens when we enter illegal fights,” his voice might be a bit angry. But it needed to be said. Nate should’ve known this already of course, but since he obviously didn’t, he had to let him face it the hard way. He turned as he spoke, waiting to see Nate standing there, but he didn’t. Nate wasn’t there. And Ally? She looked tired, no, drained was a more fitting word. He hated the fear bubbling to the surface. He didn’t scare easy, he was the one who solved problems, he was the one who made things work for fuck’s sake. Where the fuck was his son? “Where’s Nate?” He had to really concentrate to not let any of his lingering fear seep through his words. Although he was pretty sure she’d already figured out how he felt, he would never admit that.
“Observation,” she informs him, turning to close the door. He’d been scared for him. Feeling the terror of potentially losing him. And that made things so much worse. Alvey had never been great at handling emotions, usually it was fight or fuck, incidentially with her it was both. She might as well surrender to it all right off the bat, might as well just go with the flow. “Got any more of that?” She gestured to his glass.
He stays quiet, simply transferring the last few drops from the bottle into another glass. She swallows it in one swift motion, wincing as the heated amber liquid scorches its way down her throat.
Fuck! The way she moves, the way she talks, the way she breathes. It drives him fucking insane. “Want to go downstairs?” He questions, his intentions clear though not voiced. “Return to the room after a few too many drinks and….,” he lets the sentence die out, gauging her face for a reply, vocal or not.
She doesn’t know what to say. Not because she doesn't want to engage in the activities he implies. She just felt the need to keep Alvey away from the bar as long as the promoter was there. She could tell he was waiting for an answer, and she knew that he would figure it out on his own if she didn’t say anything. “Rip my shirt,” she instructed.
He knitted his brows. Rip her shirt? What the fuck was she up to?
“Please,” she knew this might be a bad idea, but she had to warm him up to her plan before she told him about the promoter being downstairs. If he lost his cool now the whole thing would just blow up, and they would probably lose more than just money.
“He’s downstairs isn’t he?” He could feel his jaw tense as he spoke. That guy had some nerve coming back here.
He was about to turn and go downstairs to knock some sense into him when Ally grabbed his shirt, pushed him up against the wall and locked lips with him.
Fuck! Shit! What the fuck was she doing? This was so really not thought through at all, not even a little bit. But for her plan to work she needed to be flushed and Alvey needed to rip her goddamn shirt. “Rip it,” she breathed between kisses.
One part of him was curious about why she wanted him to rip her shirt, while the other part was focused on the man currently down in the bar. But fuck. He grabbed her, one hand around her waist, the other in her hair, yanking them around and pinning her against the wall. “What the fuck are you up to Ally?”
She looked at him, had no choice actually because of the hold he has on her hair. “I’m saving you and the gym,” she breathed, staring into his eyes, his pupils are dilated. Fuck, this night would leave bruises, for sure. “Now rip my fucking shirt,” she went on.
He leaned into her, pressing his lips against hers, opening her mouth with his tongue. Fuck how he wanted her. His hand left her waist and moved up to the collar of her shirt, and then in one hard swift motion he ripped it. The sound of the fabric tearing just heightened his arousal. Fuck. “Like that?” He breathed into her lips, pressing his hips into her.
It took her a second to recover, to tell her brain that she had work to do. She turned her eyes down to her now ripped shirt. “Perfect,” she breathed, before pushing him away from her and moving towards the door.
“Hey,” he yelled after her as she left the room. “Ally, are you really going out like that?” He went on as he followed her. “Ally?” He continued as he reached her just as she pushed the button for the elevator. “Just what the fuck are you doing?” He finally got to ask her. Was she punishing him in some way? Or did she want him to snap, fuck her senseless?
She almost felt sorry for him. But part of her plan was to have him look like he had no fucking clue about what was going on either. So instead of answering she simply grabbed his shirt again. “Can you take my breath away before we reach downstairs?” She breathed into his neck.
Fuck yeah, he could. “You’re playing with fire,” he almost growled, grabbing her hair again and pushing her into the elevator as the doors opened. Not even scanning for other people in there.
“Then burn me,” she rasped back just as her back hit the wall. She knew he would have her pay for this later, but she didn’t care. Right now, her only focus was to keep him and the gym out of trouble.
“Before this night ends,” he rasped into her heated skin. His voice already wrecked with raw lust. “I’ll have you begging for mercy,” he went on, his body was on fire and fuck she was in for one hell of a night.
“Care to make a wager on that?” She rasped back. She absolutely knew what she was walking into, she knew what he would do to her later, but the heavier he brought it now, the more real it would look.
He still has no idea what she wants with this, but by now he doesn’t even care. He yanks her around, pushes her face first into the wall and lets his hand encircle her throat forcing her to arch her back. Fuck, having her backside grind onto his crotch makes him want to push the stop button and fuck her right then and there.
“Bite my shoulder,” she breathes. “Leave a mar…,” her words are cut short when he bites into her shoulder, making her gasp. She turns around “and there,” she points to the exposed part of her breast where her shirt are torn.
He licks his lips. This was really going to be an interesting night. Again his hand encircled her throat, making her lean her head back and her eyes fell shut; then he sank his teeth into her skin, her whimpering moan; a mix of pain and pleassure shot electrisity down his spine. “I’m going to eat. you. up,” he breathed into her skin.
The elevator stops, and she pushes him off her. “Perfect,” she breathes when she sees the mark he left on her breast. “Showtime,” she looked at him “just play along,” she added as she left the elevator.
Her walk was so resolute that Alvey didn’t know what else to du but play along, even though he had no idea what he was playing along to.
"There you are, you fuck!" Alyssa shouts, trying to grab everyone's attention. Not that the bar is particularly crowded. There's the bartender, a young petite blonde, a few biker guys, and a couple of passersby throwing darts. "Thought you could hide from me, huh?" she continues as she strides over to the promoter.
"Who are you?" the promoter inquires, but she has no intention of letting him speak more than absolutely necessary. She snatches his glass, still half-filled with beer, and dumps it over his head.
"Give me my money back!" she hisses.
"Wh... What money?" The guy looks as if he just landed from another planet.
"The money you stole from me after you tried to assault me, you creep," she retorts. By now, another man has appeared at the bar, brandishing a shotgun. The bikers have risen from their seats, and the unfortunate passersby are attempting to melt into the far corner.
"What are you talking about?" he attempts, his gaze sweeping the room for any allies, but finds none.
"What’s happening here?" one of the bikers inquires.
Alyssa turns to face him. He’s large, gripping a gun, while one of his friends stands a few paces behind, wielding a bat, and the male bartender has a shotgun aimed at them. Just as she had hoped. "He attacked me earlier," she croaked, pointing at her shirt. "Tried to undress me," she continues, forcing herself to sob. "I... I think he bit me too," she weeps, feeling their stares and sensing the atmosphere shift as they notice the bite marks. Alvey’s bite marks.
"I think it’s time for you to leave," the gun-wielding man tells the promoter over her head. She couldn’t see, but she sensed him rising from the booth. "Oh, and one more thing," the biker with the gun added, lifting it to rest under the other man’s chin. "Return the lady her money," he commanded.
"Yes, of course. Take it," he stammered, his voice trembling as he hurried to gather all his cash. "Take all of it," he urged before bolting out of there as quickly as he could.
Alvey, who hadn’t even stepped into the bar, stood by the elevators as the promoter rushed past him. The expression on his face was priceless, and he couldn’t help but smile. He shifted his gaze to Ally, observing how the bikers assisted her in collecting the money and draping a blanket over her shoulders.
He closed his eyes for a moment. It felt like jealousy, but there was something more; a strange sense of pride mixed with inadequacy. Ally had resolved the entire situation without throwing a punch, without a fight, without any gunfire. He could never achieve that; he had never learned how.
He was jolted from his spiraling, depressive thoughts when Ally handed him the money with instructions to fetch something to drink.
Oh how this was going to be an interesting night.
@nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @here4thefanfics @ladysif-writes-chaos @saiyanprincessswanie @rip1009 @imgoingslightlymad2376
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