Jase (MMA Bad Boys Book 3) (5 page)

He practically drags me to his bedroom and let’s go of my hand to pull the duvet back. He climbs in which gives me a spectacular view of his arse. And what a fine arse it is too. “Are you going to stand there with a giddy look on your face or are you going to join me?” His smirk shows off his dimple on his cheek and my core clenches in response. Jesus, how can I be so turned on when he’s fucked me raw twice?

Shaking my head subtly, I slide into the bed. Pulling me to his chest, he pulls the covers over us and I sigh. The heat of his skin and his masculine scent has my vagina leaking a little.

Do you know what I find the hottest about Jase? His tattoos. His chest and arms are covered in intricate designs. A tribal design flows down his right arm and the cross on his chest that says ‘only God can judge me’ are sexy as hell. I can’t make out a lot of the tattoos because there are so many but my fingers trace them, committing them to memory because fuck knows if this is a one-time thing.

“Frankie?” Jase says my name, sleep evident in his voice. “Thank you for tonight.”

That’s all? My jaw clenches and my fingers stop tracing his designs. That’s all I get after I gave him my virginity? Anger seeps in, bubbling just under the surface whilst tears collect in the corners of my eyes.
Don’t cry, you dimwit, he’s just a guy you met tonight so you can stop being a twenty-one-year-old virgin. Buck it up, sister
, I tell myself in my head.

I lay there with my eyes fixed on the drawn blinds covering the darkness of the night. My mind wandering in directions of the possibilities of Jase and I together. Not that it will ever happen, he made that clear in his own way.

His breathing has evened out, mouth agape slightly and I disentangle myself from him, trying desperately not to wake him. He mumbles something and rolls onto his side facing away from me. I blow out a quiet breath as small snores come from him. He didn’t wake.

I leave the room and go to the bathroom to collect my dress, deciding to leave my thong as a parting gift. I shake my head as images of his naked, toned body flits through my mind. He’s hot, there’s no denying that and I’m pretty sure no man will ever live up to what he gave me tonight.

Getting dressed quickly, I slip my heels on and do the walk of shame out the front door, making sure to close the door as quietly as possible. Though I’m sure he won’t really care that I’ve left, he’s already thanked me for my fucking services. Heat flames my cheeks and the burn of tears at the back of my throat is back. I know it was just sex, that was all I was looking for but Goddamn he’s sexy. His ink that curves his biceps and across his hard pecs makes me want to stay and lick every inch of him. I know I can’t and I make my way down the road whilst calling a taxi.

Standing on the corner of a street probably isn’t my best idea, I look like a fucking hooker in this little red dress. Though my boobs are spilling from my top from the haphazard way I put it on and the make up on my face probably screams a just fucked slut and don’t even get me started on the rat’s nest on top of my head. I Blow out a breath, I wrap my arms around my middle to fight the chill that’s in the air. Winter is almost over but the nippy wind in the evenings is still cold.

I see the taxi rolling down the road and I breathe a sigh of relief. I’ve been getting funny looks from drivers as they pass by, slowing their cars. I felt like screaming ‘piss off’ but I don’t want to get kidnapped or hurt or something.

Climbing into the back of the cab, I sigh in relief; it’s warm, safe and one step closer to getting home. I rattle off my address and sit back, looking out the window as we turn down the different roads of London. Will Jase be pissed at me for leaving? Unlikely. A pang in my chest has me catching my breath and a sob is stuck in my throat. Fuck, why am I so emotional? Is it because I lost my V card with him? I don’t know, but it’s starting to drive me crazy.

I groan at the light filtering into the bedroom and turn over, stretching my arm out for Frankie but the other side of the bed is empty, cold. My eyes spring open and my heart jumps in my throat. Where is she? I look over to the en-suite bathroom; the doors open and the light is switched off.

“Fuck!” I shout into the empty room. Why the hell did she leave? I listen for sounds around the house, but nothing. Not even a pinprick of a sound. “Why leave, Frankie?” I whisper to myself. Did I say something in my sleep that scared her off? Or was she really just looking for a quick fuck to lose her virginity?

Frustrated, angry and with a bruised ego, I climb from bed. Shower, shit, shave and breakfast then to the gym. My usual routine. Hopefully, beating the shit out of a punch bag will release the pent up anger that’s been building since that text and has only escalated by Frankie doing a disappearing act, will make me feel better, more focused for work anyway.

Relieving myself in the toilet, and sighing as my full bladder stops screaming at me, I flush and climb into the shower. Turning the knob, cold water blasts on my shoulders and I hiss through my teeth. At least my morning wood has been sorted. I relax once the water heats up, standing with my hands on the tiles and grinding my teeth. This level of anger and frustration isn’t healthy for anyone. Hopefully the gym kicks my ass out of this funk because I can’t go to work like this.

The gym did fuck all to release the pressure, the anger still sizzles just under the surface and now I’m heading to work. Hopefully, no serious calls come in because I don’t think I’m in the state of mind to save a life today. I’m sure my buddies will understand if I hang back; I’ll use the ruse of cleaning the firehouse, they’ll be shocked but at least those fuckers won’t have to do it.

Arriving, I park my car in our private car park and scrub my hands over my face. These douchebags need to hang back on taking the piss out of me today. The last thing I want to do is punch one of them in the jaw and lose my job. I love being a firefighter, gives me a sense of purpose in the world.

A knock on my window startles me and I throw a filthy look to the person responsible. I open my door, not giving a shit if it hits him and glare at Jake. “What?”

“Whoa, buddy!” He puts up both hands in front of him. “What the fuck’s crawled up your arse today?”

“Leave it, Jake,” I growl, climbing from my car and heading to the firehouse. Deep breathing helps calm some of the nerves that are sizzling, but not enough to not fly off the handle.

“Dude, are you okay?” The concern in his voice has me faltering a step, the clawing guilt making feel like shit for the way I spoke to him.

Turning, I say, “Sorry, Jake. Just a shitty day. I’ll get over it once I’ve had a good night’s sleep.” He nods and continues to follow me into the building. “Can I speak to you in your office quick though?”

“Sure.” He overtakes and leads me up the metal stairs to his office. Reaching the door, he pushes it open and waves me in with a hand.

Once I hear the click of the door shutting behind me, I speak, “I don’t think I’m in the right mind-set to go fight fires and be a hero today. I’m so full of aggression that I don’t want to displease you or put a bad name against this place. Can I hang back today? Clean the shit that those lazy bastards can’t be bothered to do?”

He eyes me, questions swirling in his green eyes and I gulp. One thing Jake does best is being the most unemotional, unreadable twat ever. “Okay, on one condition.”

“Being?” I prompt as he suddenly stops with a finger rubbing his bottom lip, which is irritating the shit out of me.

He sighs before replying, “After our shift, we go for a bite to eat or a drink.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Jake?” I fake a shocked expression. “I don’t swing that way you know. I love my pussy way too much.”

“Har fucking har, dickhead. We haven’t been for a drink in a long time and you certainly look like you need it.” He chuckles. We banter a lot and it makes the long hours of doing nothing bearable.

“Then sure, why the hell not.” I throw my hands up like it’s the bane of my existence but manage to crack a smile with it. “Catch you in a bit.” I salute him as I turn and leave his office.

I can still hear him laughing as I close the door and make my way down the hallway to the kitchen. Definitely in need of a coffee right now, I know how much shit needs cleaning. Don’t get me wrong, I hate fucking cleaning as much as the next man, but I also don’t like mess or clutter and these guys are awesome at doing just that.

“Jase!” For fuck sake, can’t a man get a damn coffee without being accosted around here?

“What, Dan?” I don’t bother stopping or turning, he can fucking follow me if it’s that important. “I need coffee so I’m not stopping for your sorry ass.”

“It’s not important, just need to ask a favour,” he says to my back.

“If it’s a shift swap, don’t bother asking because I’m not doing it. I have a week off after today and I intend to enjoy it,” I grumble as I enter the kitchen. Of course, used mugs and plates are littered on every surface including the dining table that’s placed in the middle of the room. I mumble shit under my breath about untidy cunts and open a cupboard door to find only one clean mug remaining, thankfully it’s my cup.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that. I have to go out for an inspection on a gas leak in a minute. If my sister shows up, can you get her to wait for me please? I won’t be more than an hour.” He leans against the doorframe as he watched me turn on the Tassimo coffee machine.

“Is she hot?” I smirk because I already know how protective he is of his sister. At his murderous look, I say, “I’m fucking joking, dude, take a chill pill. I’ll let her know, alright?”

He nods, mutters his thanks and leaves. I can hear the groan of the metal stairs as his six-foot five-inch self clambers down them. The guy could never a be stealthy spy, he’s so loud that even an animal five miles away could hear him coming.

I’ve never met his sister, don’t even know what she looks like, but the guys have been ribbing him lately about how hot she is so I’m curious for sure.

Mixing a spoonful of sugar into my mug, I take a blessed sip of the hot liquid. I wince when it burns my tongue but my taste buds ignite at the taste.

I grab the lone banana from the fruit bowl that sits in the middle of the table, I eat it as I wait for the coffee to cool enough so I can drink it.

Once again, I’m thinking about that life altering text, wondering if it’s the truth or if it’s another ruse from the psycho ex to get me back. Hell, even if the kid is mine, I’d still never get back with her. The thought itself makes me shiver.

I honestly have no clue what to do and its gnawing at my gut. Having not yet replied, I’m sure she’ll try visiting me next and the last thing I want to see right now, before even processing this, is seeing her heavily pregnant with my possible fucking baby.

The one thing that’s most certainly happening once it’s born is DNA. I am not paying a penny toward that baby unless I know one-hundred percent that it’s mine. Call me a heartless bastard but Jen is the kind of girl, she’s far from a woman, who will milk me for every last penny and I won’t let that happen.

I wonder if there’s such a thing as having the DNA done while the baby is in the womb? I’ll have to look into that, see if it’s possible and if it’s not harmful. It may not be mine but I would never wish harm on a defenceless baby. I put ‘researching’ on my mental checklist and drain the last dredges of my coffee.