TKO (A Bad Boy MMA Romance) (13 page)

I brought my fist up and into his stomach, but he tensed before I could sink the hit in, and he threw back a jab at my face, which landed squarely on my eye. I took hold of his arms and tossed him aside, but he kept his footing and got ready for me as I charged in again, one hand grabbing his wrist while my injured arm pummeled his torso. His fist struck my nose, but I responded by bringing my elbow up to connect with his, and he staggered back, dazed. Fast as lightning, he was in at my stomach this time, pounding my abs with quick shots before I brought my head down on his--a move that would have gotten me kicked out of the ring, before getting one more solid blow on his stomach, making him back off, holding up a hand.

“Fuck, alright, alright, it was a joke!” he sputtered between breaths, but even as battered as he looked, the swelling I felt on my face told me I wasn’t any better off, my breaths heavy.

“Careful who you pick fights with, Dante,” I growled. “Next time, you might not catch me in a good mood.”

Without another word, I picked up my gym bag and turned my back on him, heading out the door and back into the cool night air as my eye started to swell shut and I tasted blood running down from my nose.

              Ever since the last session, when I told Marc our little indiscretion was a one-time deal, I’d been stuck in a major funk. I couldn’t get his disappointed face out of my head, and every time I crawled into bed at night, my dreams were filled with images of the two of us naked and unrestrained. I knew it was killing some part of me, having to pretend I didn’t want him. Because I did, so much, and it felt so inauthentic to deny myself.

              After all, I’d already sacrificed so much of what I wanted out of life just to make things work with the new game plan I had to adopt since my father’s death. I’d already had to give up on my flashy dreams of becoming an Olympic runner, foregoing the gold medals and bright lights of the camera in exchange for a quiet, humble life here in Vegas with Alice.

              But when it came down to it, there was nobody else in my life I loved and care about more than my little sister. She was my world, and anyone or anything that posed a threat to our happiness and success had to be put aside.

              Even though it killed me.

              “Don’t forget I have my ice-skating show tonight!” Alice called out down the hallway as I trudged into the bathroom to get ready for work.

              “Let me drive you to school so you can tell me about it,” I responded. There was an overdramatic sigh from the kitchen and she popped her head around the corner. She looked exasperated, but I could tell there was a hint of pride in her smirk.

              “Fine,” she said, then disappeared back into the kitchen to make breakfast.

              I smiled to myself as I climbed into the shower. She never let me drive her to school, so this was a big deal. Alice always wanted to do things by herself, on her own terms, even if it was more difficult or inconvenient than the alternative.

              Massaging shampoo into my hair, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander, as always, back to Marc. Even though I’d forced myself to shut down our little fling, or whatever it was, I couldn’t quite stop my brain from reliving our tryst over and over again. He was so damn strong, so intense in every single minute movement. He scared me, in the best way possible. I knew he could break me with one simple twist, that he could totally destroy me if he wanted to.

              Just knowing the kind of power he had to constantly harness and keep tied back made me long for him more. I wanted to ride him. I wanted to
feel
his strength rippling beneath me as we rocked together through the waves of pleasure. I wanted his thick, muscular arms to bend me and control me like I knew he wanted to.

              Before I could stop myself, my hand was between my thighs, rubbing my clit under the hot spray of the shower. I braced myself against the side of the shower stall, closing my eyes as I imagined Marc shoving my legs apart and burying his face into my cunt, those sensual lips licking and sucking at my aching slit until I begged for more. I was breathing hard now, picturing his enormous shaft positioned at my slick opening, his face contorted in restraint as he guided his way into me, pushing in hard and fucking me with abandon. I could almost hear his breathing, ragged and rough as he moaned my name and crashed into me again and again.

              I collapsed to the bottom of the stall as my orgasm came shuddering up through my body, my fingers wet with my own honey. For a minute or two I just sat there trembling as the shockwaves of release passed over me. I tilted my face up into the stream of water and let it wash away my tension. I hadn’t touched myself in a long, long time. But with Marc constantly appearing in my darkest, most scandalous dreams, I was in a perpetual state of sexual frustration. I needed some kind of release, and if I wasn’t going to let myself actually fuck him, I would have to find other ways to relieve the pressure.

              I finished up my shower and got dressed, my mind distracted in the process. There was a knock at the bathroom door. Alice! I had almost forgot that I was going to drive her to school!

              “Come on! I don’t care if I’m late, but I know you do. So let’s go!” she shouted through the door. I shook the excess water from my hair, glanced at my makeup-free face in the mirror, and was instantly reminded of the last time I went into work fresh-faced.

              Apparently, Marc had really liked the way I looked without makeup.

              I bit my lip. Remembering this almost made want to hurriedly put on some mascara or something, at least. But I simply didn’t have the time today. Not if I was going to drive Alice.

              “Okay, okay! I’m done,” I said quickly, leaving the bathroom.

              “Your shirt’s inside out,” Alice commented, raising an eyebrow.

              I looked down to see that she was right. In fact, it was not only inside out, but I’d put it on backwards, too. God, I couldn’t even function well enough to put on my clothes properly anymore. Marc Montoya was really infecting my mind. I had to find a way to put this behind me before my entire life unraveled in front of my very eyes.

              “Oh,” I murmured, hurriedly taking off my tank top and fixing it.

              “You’re a mess,” Alice laughed, taking my arm and pulling me toward the front door. We rushed down the steps to the ground floor and out into the parking lot to get into my Jetta. I was happy to have her around, as Alice always proved to be a great distraction from whatever was going on in my life.

              As we drove to Saint Seraphina, she piped up, “So you’re coming to see my show tonight, right?”

              I nodded. “Of course! What time is it again?”

              “Six.”

              “Right, right. Yeah, I’ll be there,” I assured her, glancing over and giving her a smile. She was trying to remain cool, but I could tell she was really excited that I’d be there to cheer her on. I had admittedly not been able to make it to as many of her practice sessions at the rink as I’d wanted to, but then again, Alice was so fiercely independent that she might not have wanted me to tag along anyway.

              “Are you nervous?” I asked, turning the corner.

              She shrugged. “Hmm, not really.”

              “Uh-huh, sure. Not even a little?” I pressed.

              Alice sighed. “Maybe a bit. Mostly because Daniel is gonna be there, probably with Katie…” she trailed off, fidgeting anxiously.

              Daniel was the older boy who worked at the rink, the one Alice had a massive crush on, and Katie was the girl from Saint Seraphina who teased her. My heart ached for my poor little sister and her first pang of love gone wrong. I wanted so badly to assure it that it would all get better once she was older, but I knew that would be a lie. I was a prime example, myself. Alice couldn’t have the boy she wanted, and I couldn’t be with the man I desired.

              Would it ever get any better than this?

              Even if I didn’t believe it myself, I had to reassure Alice. It was my job to make her feel better, by whatever means necessary.

              “Screw them,” I told her. “If Daniel picked her over you, then he doesn’t know what he’s missing. And tonight, when he sees you perform, he’s gonna realize just how awesome you are. And then you’ll be the winner.”

              “I wish,” she murmured bitterly, shaking her head.

              “Hey! I’m serious. You can’t always get the boy. But you know what the best revenge is? Success. Nothing like showing those guys that you don’t need ‘em. You’re talented and amazing all on your own, Al,” I said genuinely. “You don’t need their approval to keep shining.”

              “That’s so cheesy,” Alice scoffed, but I could see that she was beaming.

              I dropped her off at school, a block away so nobody would see her get out of an old, beat-up Jetta, and then moved on to The Fighting Chance. By the time I arrived, I was feeling considerably less awful than I was this morning. Alice was always just the right dose of reality check and sunshine. Even though I was the one taking care of her, sometimes it really felt like she was the one keeping me in line.

              I walked into the physiotherapy room to find Marc waiting for me, but at the sight of his face, my jaw dropped and I covered my mouth in shock.

              “Wh-what happened to your face?” I gasped, rushing over to him to inspect the damage. He had a black eye and his nose looked a little crooked, like someone had broken it!

              Marc tried to wave me off dismissively, like it was nothing, but I caught his hand in mid-air and forced him to be still so I could look him over. “It’s no big deal,” he sighed.

              “I thought you weren’t going to fight until our work together was over,” I scolded.

              “This wasn’t, uh, a scheduled fight,” he answered pointedly. I went pale, feeling both concern and anger piling up in my gut. I wanted to slap him and tell him he was a fool for fighting outside of the ring, especially since he was still in rehabilitation for his last major injury.

              “Marc! You can’t be doing this. You’re not even fully healed yet,” I said, shaking my head as I gently reached up to touch the purplish swelling under his eye. He didn’t even flinch, his brown eyes trained on me the whole time. This was the final week of his training with me, and I would be damned if I let his own ego get in the way of his healing.

              “Don’t worry about it,” he grumbled, pulling away. “It’s none of your business.”

              I could tell he immediately regretted the cruelty of his words, as the hurt must have clearly showed on my face. He opened his mouth to apologize, but then closed again, as though he decided it was too dangerous to try and say anything at all.

              “You were doing so well,” I mumbled, making him stretch out his left arm and twist his torso slightly so I could check the progress of his shoulder and hip. He didn’t wince at all.

              “I feel fine,” he said. “Thanks to you.”

              I felt myself blush and instantly wished I wasn’t so pale-- as I knew my bashfulness would be easily seen in the pink of my cheeks. I appreciated his gratitude, and I was proud to have helped him along so far, but I couldn’t let go of my worry.

              “I just don’t want you getting hurt,” I said softly. Then I quickly added, “It--it could jeopardize the progress you’ve made here.”

              He only nodded, our eyes locked on each other. There was no denying the attraction between us. Even when we tried to fight it, something always gave us away and brought us right back to where we were before. And I was realizing that it wasn’t just physical attraction; it was something much more dangerous.

              I was developing feelings for him.