Page 67 of Two Chances With You

Gin is beside herself. “Ah-hooo!” she howls, like an enraged wolf. She tries to knee me, but I quickly lift my own knee and parry that too. She tries to punch me again with a left hook, but it comes in slower this time. Maybe she’s starting to run out of steam.

There’s the mistake I was looking for. I spread my right arm wide, and I clamp down on her left arm too, pinning her close to me. “So what now?”

She stands there, glaring, in front of me, completely hemmed in. “Now where is Gin, the tiger, supposed to go?” She tries to break free. “Just relax, here in my arms.”

She tries to wriggle free once again, but she can’t do it. I lean close, and I kiss her, and she seems to respond for a moment. “Ouch!” She just bit me. I quickly let go of her, freeing both her arms. “Fucking hell.” I lift my gloves to my mouth to see if I’m spitting blood. “You nearly took my lip off. What about all my other girlfriends? Watch out, they’ll beat you up, and there are plenty of them.”

“I already told you. I’m not afraid.” And in order to reinforce the point, she whips around to try to hit me with a whirling kick. But I’m too fast for her, I slide to the ground and sweep her legs out from under her so that she drops to the floor next to me.

“It’s no good, Gin. It’s like when Apollo Creed says inRocky IV, ‘I taught you everything you know. Almost everything. Remember, you fight great…but I’m a great fighter!’”

And in just a second, I’m on top of her. I immobilize her body with both legs wrapped around her waist, and with my right hand, I push her tight against the floor, her face pressed against the mat, right there, next to mine.

“Do you know that you’re beautiful like that?” I don’t know why, but she’s making me think ofLethal Weaponwhen Mel Gibson and Rene Russo compare battle scars and then fall to the floor. “Gin, do you want to make love?”

Gin smiles and shakes her head. “Here? Now on the gym floor, in front of the trainer and everyone else that’s watching?”

“The trick is just not to think about it.”

“What are you talking about, Step? Have you lost your mind? Next thing you know they’ll all start chanting, trying to set the rhythm.”

“Okay, in that case, let’s go back to boxing, if that’s what you want. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.”

We both get back to our feet. This time, though, I start in first. I force her into the corner and start pummeling her. Obviously, without hitting too hard though.

Gin is quick and tries to dart out from under. I shove her quickly back into the corner. She drops, dodges, tries to get free, but I hem her in. Then she feints to the left but actually swings wide. I launch a lazy, slow punch to her body.

With extreme speed, she closes her arm, locking down my right. Immediately afterward, she does the same thing with great rapidity to my left. “Ta-dah. Now I’ve got you locked in. What now?”

Actually, all it would take is a headbutt to get free, but I decide that’s not the move to pull right now.

Gin sighs. “As usual, you’re my prisoner. Don’t you dare try and bite me though. I swear that if you do, I’ll deck you.”

She takes and kisses me. I let her do it, sweat and saliva, smooth kisses, lustful and elusive. She plays with my lips while I hold her tight with my boxing gloves. She rubs up against me, shorts and T-shirt, just sweaty enough. Her hair sticks to my face, concealing me from prying eyes.

But the trainer, who’s been following us and timing the rounds, certainly can’t figure out the rules of this strange boxing match.

“First they try to beat each other silly, and then they decided to turn it into a party. Young people are so ridiculous.” And he walks away, shaking his head.

You think that what we’re doing is throwing a party? This is art, man. Fantastic, refined, mystical, savage, elegant, primordial art.

We continue kissing in the corner of the ring, indifferent to everything, now freer in the clinch and excited, aroused, or at least I am. We’re well beyond the timing of any round…way beyond it.

I let my glove slide down, and it winds up, by some twist of fate, between her legs, but Gin moves aside. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, a couple of guys in their forties get up into the ring with a pair of harnesses around their necks. “Sorry, we wouldn’t want to interrupt this match. But we’d like to do some real boxing, if you wouldn’t mind clearing out of here.”

“Yes, why don’t you go get a room somewhere else?” They laugh.

I take Gin by her arm, clutching it with the thumb of my boxing glove, and I help her out of the ring. The bigger guy of the pair, who still smells of weed, doesn’t want to let her get away without a comment. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing, anyway, fighting with a woman?”

Gin slips out of my hands and darts quickly back under the rope and starts climbing into the ring. “What does he think he’s doing? Do you want to find out?” And she takes her stance.

I get in the middle quickly before it all goes to hell. “Okay, okay. Never mind, we’ll leave the ring to you. Forgive us. The young lady is just a little on edge.”

“I’m not on edge.”

“Ahem, well anyway, we’d probably better go get a gelato.” Softly to Gin, whispering into her ear, “My treat. I’m just begging you to drop the offensive.”

Gin spreads her arms wide. “Okay, okay.”

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