Fighting Hard (Fighting For Love 1)

Nick Spencer sighed as he poured out what felt like the millionth Appletini this week. Why did all the hot girls go for this repulsive drink? Why? He blamed ‘The Bachelor’. Damn reality television, making ditzy girls live vicariously through idiots pining for a rose.

The group of supremely drunk women was looking him up and down now, and he pulled himself up to his full and impressive height. Their eyes struggled to focus on him so they could take him in: broad shoulders, chest muscles clearly visible through his staff t-shirt, huge arms and hands. The one woman with long red hair practically licked her lips when their eyes met.

Nick was no fool. He knew exactly where his tips came from, and he winked at her. Even from a few feet away, he saw her pupils dilate, and he knew she was imagining him with his shirt off, approaching her full of bad intentions. Hell, he might even make the fantasy a reality later, if she stuck around to closing time and played her cards right. He had nothing against redheads, though he did prefer blondes… not that that made him a gentleman.

He gave them his charming smile as he set their drinks on the counter. “Here you go, ladies.”

“Thanks,” said the redhead. “Our friend will be over to pay in a sec.”

“Which friend?” he asked.

She gestured vaguely at a woman sitting at a table. “Her. The one in green.”

Nick focused on the woman at the table, and fixed her into his memory: light brown hair, unsexy-as-crap dress. OK. Got it.

As he looked over, he noticed that another woman was trying to get his attention on the other side of the bar. She was leaning over, far enough that her breasts were practically falling out of that silver halter top and onto the counter. That had happened more than once, and more than once on purpose. He’d taken some of the women up on the offer, too.

He kept serving, keeping an eye on the brunette, making sure the group didn’t up and leave before she paid. Time passed, the music got louder, and the crush of dancing bodies tighter.

Nick’s body started to hum as the women’s eyes got hotter, more ravenous. They were getting drunker by the minute now, and he started looking back at them just as boldly, deciding which one of the leggy beauties with not-too-many clothes on he’d go home with tonight. Maybe that one over there, with the smoking body and long blonde hair and vacant eyes, with the barely-there skirt and generous side-boob. She’d be great to fuck, easy to get away from in the morning. She hardly looked like a chick seeking a boyfriend. That suited Nick just fine.

He flashed her his sexiest smile, the one that women responded to every single time and saw her hungry interest. So far, the night was right on course to go the way his nights working at The Cave almost always did: great tips from hot women, his most devastating flirting and come-ons followed up by sex with no strings.

He didn’t know it then, but his night tonight was going to be different. Tonight was going to change everything.