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Rising in the middle of the ring, Izzy extended an arm to help her defeated opponent up then gave Razor a back-slapping hug before the announcer grabbed her wrist and lifted her arm high. Zach whooped and hollered, running to the center of the ring. Arms coming around Izzy’s waist, much in the same way Razor failed to achieve earlier, Zach lifted Izzy off her feet and paraded her around the ring for a victory lap.
Jig couldn’t help but smile at the elation on her face.
After a few moments of celebrating in the ring, Zach guided her straight to where Jig waited. Izzy was grinning from ear to ear, and a spark of electricity crackled all around her, almost sexual in nature. Jig got that. He loved nothing more than a hard fuck after a victorious fight.
Was she the same? Would she go out and find some asshole to fuck a few orgasms out of her? Shit, the thought of it made him want to climb back in that ring with whomever she chose for the job. Maybe she’d just go home and take care of it herself, plunging a thick vibrator in and out of her pussy and buzzing it across her clit until she was as sweaty as she was now.
Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him?
“Damn, Jig, our girl was on fire!” Zach licked his finger and touched it to Izzy’ shoulder, making a sizzling sound.
Before Jig had the chance to respond, or even think of what to say, Stephanie bounded over and flung her arms around Izzy. “You are seriously the most badass woman I’ve ever met.”
“Whoa,” Izzy said with a laugh as she caught Stephanie. “Had a few drinks, have you?”
Mav snorted. “A few turned into many about twenty minutes ago.” He pulled his ol’ lady off Izzy and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. As Steph fussed at him for making fun of her, he nipped at her neck and she giggled.
There was a time when Jig hadn’t been able to tolerate being in the same room as happy couples, but he’d long since hardened his heart and shoved his emotions into a two-foot-thick vault. Now he reacted no differently than he did watching two people shake hands.
“Oh, I just had an amazing idea!” Stephanie shouted right next to Mav’s ear, making him flinch and draw back.
“Shit, babe, wasn’t planning on hearing aids for another forty years or so.”
Giggling, she rubbed Mav’s arm. “Sorry. Izzy, what are you doing now?”
“Oh, uh…” She shrugged. “I was just going to go home and crash.”
So, the vibrator it was. Jig had no business thinking this way, but a tiny bit of relief hit him knowing she wouldn’t be searching for a flesh and blood cock that night.
“No, no, no! That’s so boring. Come to the clubhouse. We’re having a party. You should come. Shouldn’t she come, Mav?”
Jig hadn’t known Stephanie all that long, so it was safe to say he didn’t know if this bubbly thing was her drunk-norm, but it sure as hell was entertaining.
However…Izzy at the clubhouse?
He needed to get wasted and find someone to fuck, and the last thing he wanted was the strange attraction he had for Izzy scratching at his back all night.
“She should definitely come.” Mav might have been speaking to Steph, but his snarky gaze was all for Jig. “What do you think, Jig? You want Izzy to come?” When he stressed the word “come,” Jig’s dick twitched.
Asshole.
He cleared his throat and met Izzy’s gaze. She was amped, pumped from her fight. As ready to fuck as he was. But it would never happen. Izzy was the exact opposite of the women he sought out.
“Sure, she can do whatever she wants.” He didn’t miss the quick flash of disappointment that crossed her face at his statement. “I’m heading out. See you guys later.”
Without another word and ignoring Stephanie’s muttered “dickhead,” he weaved his way through the crowd.
His night was fucked. He shouldn’t even go to the party, but he had no choice. The perimeter they’d been working on non-stop was finally complete. His brothers needed to blow off some steam. It was pretty much mandatory fun.
How the hell was he supposed to find someone to fuck when he had some weird attraction to the kickass woman he’d just left behind?
And God fucking help any of his brothers who came on to her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHAT WAS SHE doing here?
Izzy had moved from New Orleans to Tennessee because she wanted fewer entanglements. Fewer people with the chance to screw her over. She’d had a roommate walk out three months before the lease ended, leaving Izzy in a lurch. Three months! Izzy was stuck paying double rent. It was the last straw in a long string of letdowns. She’d known taking on a roommate was a mistake, but had fallen in love with the expensive two-bedroom apartment in the French Quarter of New Orleans. And she’d paid the price…literally.
