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Which is why I need to round out my fight and tighten up my striking. My strength in grappling has taken me this far, but facing strong strikers like Luca has always been a greater challenge than I would like to admit. And my chances of facing these types of fighters is growing, so I need to target this. And Luca is the best to do that with.
But that fucking smile…
He bounces on his feet. “Let’s go, Ty. Pound me.”
Fine.
I step into him with a combo and land a left hook kick with force, causing him to falter in his step. I immediately control the distance between us and hit him with a body shot followed by an uppercut. He’s finally on his defense, and I get his back up against the ropes.
“Faster, Ty. Harder,” Luca says as he lays a jab-cross to my head.
I block his cross, but then he drops his arm for a body shot.
“Come on, fuck me up,” he says in a goading tone.
I’m suddenly pushing him against the ropes, with my glove pressed against his throat under his chin. Luca starts to push back against me, but I hold him there.
“Guys,” Max calls from the other side of the ring. “Come on. Let it go, back to sparring.”
I stare into Luca’s eyes, which are sparkling with mischief.
“You need to shut up,” I say to him.
He smiles and raises his hand, spitting his mouthguard into his glove. “What’s the fun in that?”
I start to step away from him so we can get back into it, and I’ll shut him up, but he places a gloved hand on my hip to stop me.
“Remember what a tiger’s punch can do?” Luca says, eyes flicking between mine.
I press his chin up slightly with my glove. “I do.”
“One swipe of a paw… pretty deadly.” He licks his lips. “Tigers make good strikers.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I stare back at him. I see Rosa and a couple of the guys out of the corner of my eye by the ring and hear Max’s voice, but I tune it out as Luca closes the distance between us, our chests almost touching.
“But I think I need a reminder of how deadly a tiger’s kiss is.”
I swallow, my eyes dropping to his lips.
Luca’s grip on my hip tightens, and the next thing I know I’m taking my mouthguard out and our lips are crashing together. My glove is still under his chin as I push him against the ropes again and take control, my tongue pushing past his lips and his hands pulling my hips into his. It’s needy and messy, and apparently just what I needed, as some of the tension in my muscles slips away.
When I pull back from him, he smirks, and puts his mouthguard back in.
The corner of my lips twitch as I watch him.
Then I punch him in the face.
This car is fucked.
I stare up at the underside of it and wonder why the fuck anyone would even want to fix this. At this point, just buy a new one.
“Need some help?” Jake asks, coming to stand beside me and looking up at the car.
I sigh. “I’m still finding issues.”
Jake huffs out a laugh as he reaches up to poke at the fraying serpentine belt. “This is a disaster.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter, reaching for my wrench as I know I’m going to need to take the wheels off to get to whatever else is going on here. The owner brought the car in with a complaint of a “grinding noise” and so far I’ve found issues with the belt, transmission, alternator, aged spark plugs, and more. Guaranteed the brakes are worn out too.
