Brawler by Scott Hildreth Page B

built just like him. Tall, with long arms and covered in muscle, he looked like a lean version of Ripp. His head was shaved, he was covered in homemade tattoos, and he had a tuft of hair on his chin. 
    He and Ethan clenched in the center of the ring, and Ethan shoved him off, swinging an uppercut as they parted. The punch barely missed. Seeing Ethan fight was a huge turn-on, and even if he lost, there was no doubt I’d be so horny at the end of the fight that I wouldn’t be able to make it until morning without having Ethan fuck me.
    “God damn,” Ripp said, still focused on the fight. “If that would have connected…”
    His opponent came at him with a barrage of punches, connecting many of them to Ethan’s mid-section. A right cross from Ethan landed on his opponent’s eye, sending him stumbling.
    “ This is a fucking fight,” Ripp announced excitedly.
    Yeah, it sure is. My pussy’s loving it.
    “It looks like it.”
    With every muscle in his body taught, Ethan continued to swing power punches at his opponent, connecting half of what he was throwing.
    “Ethan’s a slugger. He’s fast and unpredictable. If he could just focus,” Ripp said. “He’d be a good fighter.”
    “You think he’s a bad fighter?”
    “He ain’t bad, he just needs some direction.”
    Ripp no more than spoke, and Ethan connected a hard right cross in the face of his opponent, knocking him back several feet.
    “Holy shit, he’s got him on his fuckin’ heels,” Ripp shouted as the man stumbled to regain his footing.
    Ethan advanced toward him, and as soon as he was within arm’s reach, swung an uppercut directly into his chin. The powerful punch sent his head back like it was on a swivel.
    The fighter’s legs gave out and he fell down to the mat, hard.
    “Holy shit. He ain’t gettin’ up from that,” Ripp said.
    The referee waived his hands over the unconscious fighter, signaling the end of the fight. The entire thing lasted no more than a minute and a half.
    I was soaked.
    “Great fight, Babe!” I shouted.
    “Back to the Babe thing,” Ripp said. “What the fuck’s going on there? You two dating?”
    I shrugged.
    “You don’t know?”
    “I don’t think we’re dating. We’re just hanging out. And fucking,” I said with a laugh.
    Ripp raised his hand between us. “I’ve heard enough.”
    “No fuckin’ on fight nights,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the ring.
    “Excuse me?”
    “You heard me. Sex’ll make ya weak. No fight night fuckin’.”
    “It loosens me up.”
    “No. Fight. Night. Fuckin’.”
    “Fine.”
    Ethan went to his corner, and talked to his trainer, waiting for the other fighter to be able to stand up. So far, he had yet to get up on his feet.
    “So, Ethan’s trainer is a dumb ass, huh?”
    “Sure is,” Ripp responded.
    “Why don’t you train him?” I asked.
    “Haven’t got time.” Ripp said. “But if he keeps fightin’ like this, I might make time.”
    Ethan commended the challenger and walked to our side of the ring.
    “Great punch,” Ripp said.
    “Thanks.”
    “Looked good. Keep that shit up, and you just might make a champion.”
    “Appreciate it.”
    Ethan locked eyes with me. “So…”
    “So…what?”
    His excitement was apparent. I wasn’t sure if it was about winning the fight or earning the right to fuck me any way he wanted. “You ready to go?” he asked.
    “Something going on I need to know about?” Ripp asked.
    “We made a bet,” I said.
    Ripp cocked an eyebrow. “What was it? The bet?”
    Ethan shook his head.
    “It’s okay, he knows,” I said.
    Ethan stared in apparent disbelief. “Oh.”
    I turned toward Ripp. “Ethan said he was going to knock the guy out. I didn’t believe him. So we bet. Sex any way he wants it if he knocked him out. And, he knocked him out. So…” I shrugged. “I guess anything goes.”
    Ripp stared at me for a moment, shifted his eyes to Ethan, and then back to me. “You serious?”
    I nodded. “Yep.”
    He