He did little to try to dodge the fist coming at him. Part of him wanted it, the perverse part of him. A grunt of pain sounded in his throat and he faltered slightly on his feet, taking a small step to the side. He could taste blood in his mouth from where the inside of his cheek had connected with teeth. "Fuck me!" he yelled. "You hit like a fucking man!" He took little comfort in seeing her grab her fist because it was hard to tell if she did so out of pain or not. Tough bitch.
CJ let the glass in his hand slip and fall to the floor. He only vaguely registered the shattering of glass at his feet as he reached for her. His fingers wrapped around one of her wrists and he swung her around until her back was to him. Couldn't have her getting in any laming crotch shots. His arms went around her like a vice and his grip on both her wrists might very well be bruising. "Feels good, doesn't it?" he hissed in her ear.
Standing around in the middle of this club, getting his ass kicked by a girl, no longer seemed all that amusing to him yet he wasn't done with her yet. She was getting out her frustration and why shouldn't he. He'd always been physical with Naima to a point. He'd pushed her around, grabbed, shoved and most anything aside from actually hitting her. If she kept pushing him, he wasn't sure how much control he could maintain. Control was never really his strong suit anyway and Naima always did know exactly which buttons to push.
CJ had practically forgotten about the woman in the wheelchair so he didn't see her, too intent on dragging Naima out of there kicking and screaming if he had to. He didn't see her until he ran into her, that is. His thighs came in contact with the side of her chair and he very nearly toppled over on her with Naima still in his arms. "Fuck!" he cursed.