Dog Days (BWWM/Interracial MMA Erotic Romance Urban Novella) (2 page)

I suppose I should start from the very beginning.

I met Brendan Douglas a few months ago. He was a rising star in the local MMA circuit. The man had a string of devastating victories by knockout. His toned, muscular physique made him stand out even amongst a group of very physically fit men. He was young but had the mind of a veteran and the skills to back it up. Many expected him to show greatness when he entered the UFC. You know, the Ultimate Fighting Championship televised matches which showed two men beating the stuffing out of each other.

How did I fit into this picture?

Brendan ‘The Bulldog’ Douglas had an actual bulldog. The adorable thing was lively and had a great personality. He also liked to be pampered and played with. The only problem was that his owner was out beating people to a pulp in order to pay the bills. He had no time for the lonely little dog.

One of my former clients had a relative who worked in promoting MMA competitions. He was also a close friend of Brendan’s and referred him to me. The rising MMA star invited me to a press event and subsequent after party for the UFC. It was the only way he could fit me into his demanding schedule. Besides, I could never say ‘no’ to free shrimp cocktail.

Brendan was a rather charming man in person. His green eyes were sharp and friendly. His lips usually formed a heartrending grin that sent my blood racing. The man’s aristocratic cheeks seemed unusual considering he had been raised by a poor single mother in the slums. Only his gifted physique and determination got him to where he was now. The man was a born athlete and had found his calling in martial arts.

His self-developed fighting style was praised for its startling beauty and brutal efficiency. He would usually fight defensively and allow his opponent to tire themselves out. Then, he would unleash a devastating counterattack that would usually knock his opponent out.

Nevertheless, Brendan wasn’t afraid to mix it up and catch his opponents off guard. He held the record for the fastest knockout in the local circuit. I’d love to win a $100,000 for fifteen seconds of work. To a MMA layman like me, it was watching someone perform a deadly dance.

His personality off the Octagon couldn’t be any different from the stone cold assassin who dominated the competition. He was warm, gregarious, and ready to give his opponent a hug after a fight. Between his good looks and outgoing personality, Brendan had attracted a large female fan base. A lot of promoters were happy he was bringing more women to the sport one way or another. The man was dominating the local circuit and ready to enter the big leagues. However, it was his dog he had trouble dealing with.

Romeo was a bundle of energy given the form of a black and white British bulldog. Most bulldogs I knew tended to be of a more of a gentle temperament. They were playful yet dignified. Romeo, on the other hand, was impatient and always in search of adventure. He needed someone who could keep him happy and out of trouble.

Most people would have given him away since he was such a hassle. Brendan was going to enter big leagues and the last thing he needed was coming home to a chewed up set of furniture. However, Romeo was special.

I learned from some of Brendan’s friends that the dog used to belong to Brendan’s old girlfriend, Lisa. She had grown up with Brendan in the slums. Along with his mother, Lisa had been the moral center for the fighter. She motivated him to live an honest life rather than take the easy road like so many others in their neighborhood. Soon, their relationship had become more intimate.

Everyone I talked to said she was a kind-hearted person. Lisa loved dogs and volunteered at the local animal shelter whenever she could. She wanted to become a veterinarian and entered medical school the same time Brendan transitioned into becoming a full time MMA fighter. From what I heard, she was the only one Brendan was willing to quit the sport he loved for.

Lisa was one of the few who could speak to the stubborn Brendan get words through his occasionally thick skull. When he was angry or distracted, the woman had a supernatural ability to calm him and get him to focus. A year ago, she had adopted Romeo from the animal shelter after he struggled to find a home to go to.

Unfortunately, Lisa had died from leukemia a year ago. She must have meant a lot to Brendan because he made sure Romeo was given the best care. I made sure bulldog looked his best with every grooming session.

One day, Brendan came to me asked me if I could accompany him to an upcoming fight. It would be his debut in the UFC. He wanted to bring Romeo along for good luck during this very special occasion. Nevertheless, Brendan needed someone to look after Romeo while he kept himself busy preparing for the match.

I couldn’t say no to such an attractive Bulldog.

And I’m not talking about Romeo.

It didn’t hurt that Brendan was willing to pay for my first class flight and a four-star hotel room. We would be sharing a hotel suite that had multiple bedrooms. I’d have to take a separate flight with Romeo since Brendan wanted to get an early start on his match preparations. Nonetheless, it was a practically a vacation for me. The hotel was top class and willing to take in pets, including rambunctious bulldogs.

Two weeks later, I arrived in California during a blistering heatwave. Being with a dog in the middle of hot and humid day is usually not a great experience. Take my word for it since I’m a professional. Thankfully, there was an air-conditioned limo waiting at the airport for me and Romeo.

You would think I would spending my days lounging around with an energetic pooch one on side and a sexy MMA fighter on the other. However, Brendan was too busy training for his upcoming match. He would leave early in the day before returning home for dinner. He would play with Romeo for a bit before retiring to bed.

I also couldn’t help but feel that the man was keeping his distance from me. The Brendan I knew was friendly and outgoing. The man who I stayed with in California was cold, distant and focused on his training like a man processed. I guess this was his way of preparing mentally for a fight. He probably couldn’t afford to have any distractions. It was why he brought me in the first place as a dog sitter. At least I had Romero for company.

Nevertheless, I got to watch him train on occasion. I would bring Romeo along to the private gym and wait in the sidelines. There was this beautiful, serene expression on his face as he went through his stances during a routine warmup. He was a lot less serene when he sparred with one of his training partners. It was almost painful to watch Brendan deliver powerful, bone breaking hits to the man who was unfortunate enough to be his sparring partner. At least they were wearing protective gear.

I was mesmerized by the sight of him training. Brendan had the ethereal grace of a ballerina and the jaw dropping strength of an Olympic weightlifter. He only took brief breaks between his demanding training routine before returning to the grind. It was exciting to just watch him go from one exercise to the next. It didn’t hurt he was sweaty and his muscles were showing through his gym shirt.

On a promotional poster, Brendan looked like a model.

In person, the man was so utterly gorgeous a mere photo could never hope to capture his beauty.

The man was simply breathtaking. His shorts and tank top exposed much of his well-muscled body. His dark hair had grown past his neck. Brendan had been forced to put it into a ponytail. He was just too busy to make even twenty minutes for a barber. His beard made him looker shaggier than even Romeo.

Afterwards, he went to hotel and ordered up some dinner. Brendan was on his training diet. This meant he usually ordered enough to feed four regular people. It was absolutely crazy.

He began the day with egg white scrambled eggs mixed with hot peppers to give it more of a kick. This was followed by oatmeal and milk. For second breakfast, he had sausages and more egg whites. This was followed by chicken and rice with side of asparagus. Then, he had a large piece of cod with rice and carrots. He followed up with another piece of chicken and some bananas for good measure. He had another piece of fish after that. This time, it was halibut with some potato salad. The MMA fighter finished it off with some sports drinks.

On cheat day, Brendan treated himself to an ice-cream sundae which used to be a luxury for him during his childhood.

For me, every day was cheat day. I had ordered a burger and fries with a bowl of salad to feign healthiness. Nevertheless, it was nice eating with him. The man looked as graceful as one could be when shoveling a pantry’s worth of food down your mouth.

We made some small talk as well. I found out Brendan preferred not to talk about his upcoming match or MMA in general while preparing for a fight. The man wasn’t nervous. It’s just that the constant bombardment of ads about the fight were annoying. Instead, he asked how Romeo was doing in his absence. I didn’t have say much other than to point at the bulldog slobbering away on some premium dog chow.

Afterwards, Brendan and I played with Romeo. I acted like a dog show judge who graded his performance. He probably wouldn’t have made is far based on his lack of discipline.

In all modestly, I had done a good job grooming him. The bulldog was naturally handsome with a charming overbite. It was a nice distraction since the room was a bit warm in spite of the air conditioning running at full blast.

Soon, it came time for us to sleep. The suite was considerably large. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen area with a stocked fridge, a large living room with a big screen TV, and a nice balcony. Well, it would have been a nice balcony if the weather outside wasn’t so arid.

As we went sleep in our separate rooms, I noticed a somber expression on the MMA fighter’s face. “Brendan, is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied, looking down cast in the doorway of his bedroom. “Goodnight Agnes.”

Then, he shut the door.

I awoke to the sound of Brendan doing exercises in the living room. I went to make two cups of coffee before entering the living room. He was performing a series of rather intricate stances. I assumed this was the form for one of the martial arts he used during his competitions. “Don’t you think you should take it easy, Brendan? You still have plenty of time until the fight.”

He didn’t stop his graceful movements. “I can take it easy once I’ve won.”

I placed his mug on a nearby counter. “I know from your trainer that black coffee is part of your diet.”

With his long dark hair bouncing against his back, Brendan broke out of his stance walked over to pick up the mug. “Thank you.”

He savored the drink and cradled his chin with his other hand. Brendan looked quite handsome with beard. Nevertheless, I knew he preferred to be clean-shaven.

“I could get rid of that for you,” I offered, pointing at his face. Brendan raised an eyebrow. “Your beard that is.”

The fighter stroked his beard. “You trim poodles, not people.”

“Hey, I used to shave my dad when I was young,” I replied. “Besides, I do give a rather close shave. My brothers used to ask for my help all the time.”

Brendan smirked at me. “I’m not sure my training regimen involves having my dog sitter place a sharp knife near my throat.”

Before I could answer, Romeo arrived and yelped loudly at its owner in disapproval.

“You heard the pooch,” I said, folding my arms. “I thought the great Bulldog was up for any challenge.”

The fighter sighed in defeat. “Okay, let’s get it over with. Shave away.”

I shot a glance at his groin. “A very generous offer Mr. Douglas. However, let’s keep it above the neck for now.”

Brendan couldn’t help but look impressed at my retort. “And the first round goes to Agnes Smith.”

Soon, Brendan stripped down to well-muscled waist and sat in a small stool on the bathroom sink. He so big that he needed to rest his arms on the bathroom sink in order to balance himself. I made myself busy readying my shaving supplies. In the mirror, I saw Brendan eye the tools with worry. “Is it sanitary to use dog grooming tools on a man?”

“Tools are tools,” I replied. I had left Romeo in the other room so he wouldn’t distract me. Nevertheless, Brendan seemed uncomfortable. This was probably most vulnerable he had allowed himself to be in his line of work. “It just matters how you use them and how you take care of them. Now, relax or this might end up being painful for both of us.”