Page 16 of His Little Spitfire

I feel sick. I feel horny. I feel so many things I don’t understand.

Hoping a shower will do the trick and wash away all the confusion I feel, I strip away my clothes and hop inside.

7

Urzo

The crunch of bone against my knuckles does nothing to numb the chaos brewing inside of me.

Matteo stumbles back, barely catching himself from my punch. He might be smaller in size, but he’s one of my best men. He can handle a blow or two to the chin without caving. With Tommy busy with taking the marriage document to where it needs to be, I can’t take advantage of a two versus one.

Tommy doesn’t mind causing pain. He’s exactly what I need to knock some sense into me. A real shame not to have him when I need him.

Few of my other brothers will face me when I look this disturbed. Matteo doesn’t mind a bit of back and forth. He’s a crazy bastard for it, and I’ll thank him later for it when I’m with a clearer head.

Sweat clings to us, and we’re both left panting. He doesn’t blink, his focus trained on me. His taped-up hands, unlike mine, offer him some protection. Guarding his face, he sweeps to my side and swings.

Needing to feel something to distract me from the overflowing thoughts flooding my brain, I don’t bother dodging. As his knuckles crash into my cheek, I all but grunt. As his hand barely scrapes my nose, I avoid a bloody stream.

My next swing is met with a quick duck before he catches me by the ribs. Fuck. That one wasn’t on purpose.

“All it takes is a pretty girl, and you’re suddenly growing dull?” Sneering at me, Matteo curls his fingers, all but begging me to hit him.

Him calling Eliza pretty is enough to make my ears ring. Jealousy flares thick enough that I could choke on it.

This is the problem. She wasn’t supposed to mean anything to me. I wasn’t supposed to get my cock near her, but one moment of weakness…

I grunt as I hear the crack before I feel the wetness against my upper lip as his next swing is a hit.

“Come on man, pay attention.” He’s growling now, frustrated by this one-sided fight. “Stop thinking about the chick. If she’s a fucking problem, then–”

I’m swinging without thinking, punching him hard enough to make him stumble. My knuckles ache, stinging from contact.

As Matteo spits out blood, he smiles. Not caring that his teeth are dotted in red, he shakes his head. “Don’t like me talking about her, huh?”

No, can’t say I do. Now I’ve got to add that to my list of weaknesses. Losing myself because another man is simply thinking about her is something that could get me killed.

“Just shut the fuck up and call it.” Knowing I’ve hit him hard enough to leave his jaw swelling, he doesn’t take my advice. No, he continues to swing, and I have to focus long enough to hit him in the ribs twice and his face once more before he’s landing on his ass.

I’m panting, beyond frustrated with myself. With everything.

Swiping my lip with my thumb, I flick more blood toward the ground. Sniffing, my nose aches. Good thing I can’t get any uglier, or I’d be a little worried.

Fuck. No, I wouldn’t. Who would I have to impress, mywife?

Shaking the thought out of my head, I offer my hand to him to help him back to his feet. Despite the hits, he’ll be fine after snuggling with an ice pack.

“Are you going to be alright, boss?” That smile of his disappears long enough to reveal a look of concern. “Haven’t seen you like this before.”

Me either. Guess it’s a new look we’re all going to have to get used to.

Grunting, I roll a shoulder. “Just fine. Go clean up, you look like hell.”

He grins, taking my words as a compliment. “You could use a rag yourself. Nose looks a little straighter now, though. You’re welcome.”

Damn kid. I shoo him away, growling at him. Thankfully, he takes the hint.

Moving to snatch my shirt from the ground, I use it to wipe my brow and remove the blood from my skin.

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