Read Hurting To Feel (Carpool Dolls) for Free Online

knew the dirty streets
better than he knew the business district of downtown.
    In
his old neighborhood, he drove straight to Billy's. From the outside of the
rundown building, all appeared dark and deserted, but he knew inside the lights
were on and there was someone always willing to take a few rounds in the ring.
    In
fifteen years, he'd only fallen back to returning a dozen times. When Professor
Frank forced him to open up, when he'd lost the Shelton contract and fifty
million dollars, and every time he tried to outrun the darkness inside of him,
he went back to the familiar.
    Here,
he controlled the outcome. Here, he could hurt others and nobody gave him a
second look. Here, he could escape the idea that Addison was untamable.
    He
pushed through the backdoor, assaulted with the conversant scent of dank sweat,
rubber, and beer coming from the alley. He stood inside, out of breath. Until
he'd set foot back in the building, he hadn't realized how much he was running.
Running away from Addison, running away from reaching for the unattainable and
the constant, running away from who he'd become.
    "Hey,
Nate," Big Dawg pulled himself up from his spot by the ring.
    Dawg's
cigar threw up smoke and his potbelly hung over his jeans, below his Gold Gym
T-shirt. He grabbed the beefy hand Dawg offered, and let the big guy pull him
in to a shoulder bump.
    "How's
it going?" he said.
    "Still
alive." Dawg removed his cigar. "Long time no see."
    "Yeah."
He peered around the gym. "Anyone looking for some time in the ring?"
    "Feel
like doing some foot work, eh?" Dawg stuck his dirty fingers in his mouth
and whistled. "Romero, put on the gloves."
    A
twenty-something year old built like a brick lifted his chin and stuck his
hands up. Nate peeled off his coat and tossed it to an empty chair. Then he
unbuttoned his shirt. "You still have my gloves?"
    Dawg's
face split into a grin. "Hell yeah. I'll get them."
    He
threw his shirt over his coat, leaned down, and undid his shoes. His muscles
bunched along his back. Tense and ready to hit, he shook his arms and bounced
in place. He'd really thought Addison would open the door for him. The fact
that she didn't disappointed him more than he wanted to admit.
    He'd
set his sights on her. She'd been insulted that he thought she was selling her
body, but it was more. She wasn't ashamed or embarrassed on where his thoughts
took him. She was insulted that he would offer her a job because he assumed she
was a hooker and below him.
    Why
would someone like her defend someone who made their living on the streets? Was
she a Good Samaritan who took in the homeless for bragging rights or was she a Professor
Frank who saw inside a person and unselfishly gave her time to help someone
else?
    He
fisted his hands. Not many woman aroused him on sight. Coupled with the way
she'd come alive underneath him, he wanted more. He wanted her to beg. Until
recently, he hadn't realized how much he wanted a permanent outlet.
    A
vessel for him to unleash. A woman who'd fall down and bounce back up, ready
for more. Who got off on the pain he could inflict. Only in that way, would she
understand his need to take everything from her.
    "Hands
up." Dawg approached him, tossing the gloves on the floor, and sticking the
edge of the white tape he carried between his teeth.
    He
held his hands in front of him, palms toward him, flexing his fingers as Dawg
wrapped his knuckles. The old feelings came back. He'd already proved himself
to the outside world, but in here, he started at the bottom. The other guy he
was fighting didn't know jack about him.
    Addison
Flint had no idea who she was dealing with.
    Dawg
slipped the gloves on Nate's hands, stepped back, and pulled the ropes apart.
"Try not to get yourself killed."
    "That's
the goal." He lifted his chin before ducking his head and jumping into the
ring.
    Shorter
than him by a few inches, Romero made up for the lack of height by outweighing
Nate by a good twenty-five pounds. Not to mention,