Home > Worth the Chance (MMA Fighter #2)(4)

Worth the Chance (MMA Fighter #2)(4)
Author: Vi Keeland

The loser’s wasted, but at least he’s not stupid. He takes one look at my face and knows he’s about thirty seconds away from a beating. A bad one. One I’d be more than happy to dish out. Might even help me clear my head. He grabs the other junkie and they scramble for the door quickly. Smart move. My mother doesn’t even budge, even though I’m pretty sure the old lady two floors down just heard me yell. I look at her back as she lays face down on the couch. She’s still breathing. I’m not sure if it makes me feel relief or regret.

I turn to the right, movement out of the corner of my eye catching my attention. Missy. I forgot she was even here. “Go in my room. Clean off the bed.” She disappears quickly.

I cover up my mother and throw out the food strewn haphazardly on the table and floor. There are empty plastic containers that were once microwave dinners but have now become ashtrays with cigarette butts in the remnants of food. Great, we’ll have no f**king food again this week.

Entering my room, I find the bed I’d left with crap all over it is already cleared and Missy’s stripped down to her underwear.

I walk to the bed and she reaches for my hand. She wants me to make nice. To kiss her, go gentle. But that’s not what I want. Not what I need. I take the hand she offers, but use it to flip her over on the bed so she’s laying on her stomach. Grabbing her legs, I yank her down to the edge of the bed so she’s standing with her feet on the floor, her waist bent and body face down on my bed. Her round ass is positioned high and looking at it ready to submit to me makes me hard as I unzip my pants and free myself.

I spank her ass hard a few times with an open hand. Instantly her skin turns bright pink and it makes me harder as I watch the color deepen. The condom barely settled into place, I enter her without warning, ramming myself to the hilt in one deep thrust. She’s wet already, not that I cared enough to check first. She likes it when I spank her ass, punish her, show her who’s in control. Missy’s as f**ked up as I am. I close my eyes as I pull out and slam back in. As my eyes close, the vision of Liv’s sweet little face hits me hard. It’s so clear, it makes it easy to pretend it’s her I’m inside. I pound in and out fiercely, desperately chasing the vision in my head, hoping to scare her away, but it doesn’t work. She’s stuck in my head, no matter what I seem to do lately.

Chapter 5

Liv

My heart is racing a million miles a minute as I take in the man he’s become. I’m literally frozen in place, staring at him. He looks the same, only older, sexier, if that’s even possible. He was always big, but he’s grown even more, filled out in all the right places. He’s tall and lean, but solid muscle defines his arms. Arms that I remember wrapping around me all those years ago. Only now there is ink covering most of his smooth, tanned skin. A large cross and symbolic lettering on his left arm catch my eye as he folds his arms across his chest causing his bicep to bulge and tighten. It distracts me and I find myself tracing the path of inky patterns, curious to see the parts that are hidden underneath his shirt. I’m not sure how much time passes, but when I look up at his face he smirks knowingly. I’ve been caught leering at the beautiful man before me.

His smirk turns into a full-blown smile, revealing two deep creviced, knee weakening dimples. It’s a confident smile, one that tells me he knows the effect it has on women. Stunning, pale blue eyes squint ever so slightly. A glimmer of amusement shines in his eyes as he cocks one eyebrow, “Miss, would you mind being my assistant for today’s class? I need someone to demonstrate technique with.”

I furrow my brow, confused for a moment. But then I realize he must not recognize me. He’s not the only one that’s changed. The last time I saw him I was just a girl. One that developed late and didn’t mature into curves until later than most. My dark, shoulder length, unstyled hair from high school is gone, replaced by thick, highlighted auburn waves that I’ve learned to style. Glasses turned into contacts and makeup helps to bring out my naturally high cheek bones and offset my porcelain colored skin. I’m no longer stick straight. I work hard to keep my curves well defined. I’ve definitely changed since the last time he’s seen me.

Vinny arches one eyebrow, patiently waiting for my response with a playful smile. I look past him, finding the whole class has turned around and is watching us. Waiting. “Ummm, sure.”

“Great.” Vinny turns and announces to the class. “We have a volunteer for today.” He motions for me to follow him to the front of the room and wastes no time jumping in. The first few maneuvers he walks us through are harmless enough. He teaches the proper way for blocking a hit and protecting your head. But we quickly come to what he calls the “sneak attack” defense lesson.

Vinny motions for me to turn around and I feel his body come up close to mine from behind. Leaning his head down close to my ear he whispers. “I have to hold you tight to demonstrate this one.” His low, sexy voice and hot breath on my neck sends a shiver down my spine. Slowly, he wraps his arms around my chest, his hands locking just beneath by br**sts. His warm body pressed flush against my back, goosebumps prickle all over my body. I inwardly curse my body for its reaction and pray silently that he doesn’t notice.

“Cold?” I hear the smile in his voice as he whispers the word in my ear. Shit.

“Ladies that are attackers, hold on as tight as you can. Ladies that are victims, try to escape the hold.” Vinny speaks loudly to the class, his grip around me never loosening.

“You can try to escape now.” He whispers again in my ear.

I’m suddenly reminded just how long its been since a man has had his hands on my body. More prompting. “Go ahead, struggle, try to get away from me.” Too long. Definitely way too long.

Eventually my brain takes back over command from my body which had temporarily usurped control, and I try to break free of his grip. But it’s no use. The more I struggle, the tighter Vinny just grips me, and the more fused our bodies become. He takes a step back, releasing his tight hold, and for a second I feel disappointed. Turning his attention to the class, he instructs the victims on how to free themselves of the hold. “Watch as we demonstrate for you.”

His grip around me from behind tightens again. “Go for it.”

Really? He wants me to do all the painful things that he just instructed the class? “I don’t want to hurt you.” I say quiet enough so only Vinny can hear me.

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