Diablo's Throne MMA Books 1-3

by HJ Bellus

  “They’re going to make great parents,” she whispers.

  I bite down on my tongue to keep my response in. I settle up the tab in the steakhouse, grab all of our stuff, and we begin to stride back to my apartment. It’s growing dark fast. This day has been so great, the thought of riding bikes back to Mack’s sucks. We’ve done it several times now, and it’s great for cardio, but not tonight.

  As if Mack’s reading my thoughts, she speaks up. “Can we stay at your house tonight?”

  “Hell yes. I wasn’t looking forward to riding back to your place.” We make a left with about only a block left to go. “You sure you’re good with it?”

  We’ve shared meals and studied at my house. There have never been any sleepovers until tonight. Once we reach my front door, Mack reaches into my front pocket, digging out my keys since my hands are full. I kick open the door once she turns the knob.

  I’m gentle as I set down all the gifts on the bench in my entryway. My place isn’t too different from Mack’s. It’s small but with everything we need. The significant difference is my king-size bed. May not be as soft, but what we can do with a larger bed is endless. Oh, the possibilities make my dick hard.

  “Hey, honey.”

  I glance up to see Mack with one last gift bag in her hand. I jerk my chin in answer.

  Mack’s cheeks flame pink. “I’m going to go change.”

  “Okay.” I draw the word out in confusion.

  “Layla and Sunni gave me a special gift that I couldn’t open up in front of anyone.” She says it so damn fast each word blends into the next.

  My cell phone rings in my pocket, and Mack escapes into the bathroom, slamming the door. My heart feels like a one-ton brick when I read the name on the screen. I’ve ignored the last three calls from my mom. Makes me feel like a piece of shit. Guilt eats at me. On the third ring, I slide my finger across the screen.

  “Hello.” I wince at my impersonal greeting. Mom’s always been on my side. The harsh reality is she’s a reminder of the disgrace I represent to my father.

  “Trenton, about damn time you answered your momma’s call.”

  I lean on the counter slumping back. “Hey, Momma.”

  “How are you? I miss you.”

  It’s the same way she starts out every call. Gotta give it to her; she’s always concerned about me.

  “Good. Going to school, training, and getting geared up for a big fight.” It’s a rote answer. My way of protecting what I have left in my heart for home.

  “I’m so proud of you, Trenton. I went over to Leona’s house to watch your last televised fight. You owned that man.”

  A pained chuckle escapes me. Hearing my mom say I owned the man is hysterical. Knowing she has to go to the neighbor’s house hurts. There’s no way around it.

  “Yeah.”

  “And school is good?” she asks.

  “It is. Has been quite the juggling act, but I’m managing.”

  “I’m so proud of you. Trick, I need to talk to you about…”

  I cut her off. Not today. Nothing is going to ruin this day. “Mom, don’t. It’s a lost cause. Listen, I’ve had a perfect day and don’t want to get into this with you.”

  “Okay, but…”

  “Mom,” I bark out, tension creeping up my skeleton. “Don’t do this. It’s my girlfriend’s birthday. I’m going to go spend the evening with her.”

  “A girlfriend?” Her curiosity is piqued. I knew it would do the trick.

  I get her off topic telling her about Mack and how we met. I don’t divulge anything too deep. Everything is surface level at best.

  “Listen, Mom, I have to go. I love you.”

  There’s a long pause.

  “I miss you.” She sniffles. “I love you so much, Trenton.”

  “Love you too, Mom.” I end the call.

  I feel like a dickhead not being able to tell her that I miss her too. Truth is I do every single damn day. Verbalizing the words would smack me with reality. I won’t ever be able to go home. I’m not welcomed there, and I sure in the hell don’t want to pin my mom between the battle of my dad and me. I reach back and squeeze my neck. I have to fight to breathe through emotions and do my best to tamp them down.

  “Trick,” Mack’s soft, tentative voice floats into the room. “Are you okay?”

  I flick my gaze up to her. The calming breathing technique is long forgotten with the sight ahead of me. I gulp down, the dryness in my throat making it hard to do.

  “Jesus,” I rasp out.

  Mack takes slow steps toward me, her tan, muscular legs fully exposed. A tight, lacy, black piece of lingerie hugs her body to perfection. Her ample cleavage spills over the top. A sliver of olive skin peeks out between the top and bottom parts.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks again.

  “Perfect right now,” I respond, spreading out my legs wide and leaning further back into the counter.

  “I’m ready for my other birthday present. Make my wish come true.” She plants her palms on my chest.

  Chapter 18

  Mack

  Confidence and passion collide within me the moment my hands land on Trick’s chest. He moves fast. His hands palm my ass, tugging me into him. He’s already hard and ready. The greedy vixen Trick’s pulled out of me grinds on it, seeking the much-needed friction.

  Over coffee last week, I told the girls I wanted to go all the way with Trick. From there, it was game on. They took me under their wing and gave me the perfect birthday present. It seems Trick appreciates it way more than I do.

  “I’ll make all your wishes come true,” he says in a raspy voice.

  Trick moves his hands from my ass to my waist, clutching it tightly and hoisting me up in the air. I squeal with the swift movement, wrapping my arms around Trick’s neck and locking my legs around his waist. He takes five steps until my back is pushed up against a wall.

  I growl when he doesn’t attack my lips. He dips his head to the nape of my neck, nipping at it then soothing away the tingle of pain with light kisses.

  “Trick,” I plead. “I need more.”

  He raises his head, trailing kisses up and down my jawline. My hands come to his cheeks, forcing him to look me in the eye.

  “Why yellow?” he asks, dropping his forehead to mine.

  I’m thrown off by his question but don’t think twice about answering him. “I was found in the yellow material. The same color as the sun. It’s powerful and alluring. I’ve always wanted to be that. Never thought I could. It wasn’t an option, so I surrounded myself in yellow as a positive reminder. It was never enough until you.”

  Trick leans forward, kissing each of the diamonds in my ears. “Fucking beautiful.”

  When he faces me again, I don’t give him a chance to kiss my neck or shoulders. I seal my lips to his. It’s a slow burn as we open up to each other. I soak in his taste as my tongue glides with his. I grow needier and wet, craving him so badly. I pull back, breathless with love-bruised lips.

  “Your bedroom.” I dig my fingers into the top of his shoulders.

  Trick moves with ease until my back collides with the smoothness of his black comforter.

  “No, let me,” I say when Trick reaches behind his neck to pull off his t-shirt. As sexy as that action is, I want to undress him.

  “My last birthday present to unwrap.” I scramble up to my knees, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and dragging it up and off.

  My fingers work smoothly, flicking open the button and pulling down his zipper. Trick kicks out of his boots as I push down his jeans. The only piece of material left between us is his boxers. The clear outline of his dick punches through the thin material. I let my fingertips glide around his waist before I tug them down, leaving nothing between us.

  I move fast, knowing damn well Trick would tell me no. He’s always about devouring my body first. I grip the base of him, swirling my tongue around the head, and then take all of him in my mouth. His hiss and full-body shudder
is my reward and fuels me on. I stroke him with my hand and mouth in unison. His hands roam into my hair, tugging gently. I graze the length of him with my teeth. Trick roars and pops me off him.

  “Jesus, Mack, so damn good, baby. I want to be in you tonight.” He eases me back on the bed.

  His deft fingers peel away the sexy clothing. He bites and nips at my skin the entire time until he settles between my legs.

  “Gotta get you ready for me.” Trick’s smile disappears as he dips his head. “So wet.”

  Fingers glide through my folds, then he sinks two inside me. My back bows off the bed as a cry of ecstasy attacks me. He flicks my clit with his tongue over and over again while pumping his fingers in and out of me. I scream when he slips the third one in me. So full and mind-blowing. I grip his hair, bucking up my hips as I tumble out of control with him.

  Trick continues to lap at me until my release subsides. He stares up at me with so much love it empowers me.

  “Trick, please.”

  He nods, raises on his knees while leaning over to the nightstand. He pulls out a foil packet and rips it open with his teeth. I sit up when he produces a condom, take it from his hand, and glide it down his throbbing dick. Trick strokes himself a few times, ensuring it’s all the way on.

  We fall back together with our lips sealed. Trick’s elbows land on either side of my head, framing me in. His palms rest on the top of my head. We continue kissing. I buck up into him, craving more. I’m so ready for him.

  Trick breaks the kiss, dropping his cheek to mine. “It’s going to hurt, baby.”

  “I know.”

  “We can stop at any time.”

  I dig my nails into his shoulder blades. “Trick, shut up and take me now.”

  I can feel his smile press into the side of my face. He reaches down between us, lining up his dick. He glides it through my folds, hitting my clit. It sets me on fire as he repeats the motion over and over. He growls when he pushes the head of his dick into me. I freeze with anticipation.

  “I’m good,” I reassure him. “Keep going,” I whisper.

  He does, sinking slowly into me. It burns and tears. I do my best to keep a poker face on. He cradles my head, sealing his lips to mine. Trick moves tenderly, letting me get used to the sensation. The more he gently rocks in and out of me, the better it feels.

  A moan escapes me, vibrating off Trick’s lips. There’s still a twinge of pain lingering. The delicious sensation he’s building up in me outweighs the pain. I begin chanting his name. Trick leans back, piercing his bottom lip with his teeth. The skin goes a pale white. His arm muscles are taut with tension, his eyes hooded with a dark vortex of passion.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh God, Trick, it feels so good,” I hum, letting my legs go lax at his sides.

  With the visual of this sexy man hovering above me and the things he’s making me feel, I’m sent swiftly over the edge. I scream out his name over and over until I melt back into the mattress. Trick picks up his pace.

  “Knew I wouldn’t last long, baby,” he rasps out.

  I cup his cheek, staring into his eyes while he grunts. The veins in his neck bulge, and with one final guttural growl and thrust, Trick comes undone. His body falls on mine, sheltering the collected emotions and memories between us.

  “Did your wish come true?” he whispers.

  “Every single last one.”

  We lay there for long moments in silence. Our heartbeats both slow down to a steady pace. Trick is the first one to move. He rolls off me and takes care of the condom. He returns to the bed with two bottles of water. I curl around him when he lies back down, my hand spread wide across his broad chest.

  “Want to talk about that phone call?” I ask with hesitance in my voice.

  “Naw.”

  “You should.”

  “You know the story. Mom calls often, but tonight she tried bringing up Dad. I shut her down.”

  “Okay.” I decide to drop it, not wanting to ruin this night.

  Both of our phones ding at the same time. We both look at each other in curious question.

  “The babies,” I shriek.

  We both scramble for our phones. A picture text from Layla appears. I can’t open it fast enough.

  “Oh my God!” I squeal. “They look just like Jag.”

  Trick’s deep chuckle fills the room. “That son of a bitch will be bragging about it for years.”

  I watch as Trick stares at the picture on his phone. His eyes go misty with pride for his brother. I read the text message that follows the picture.

  Layla: Looks like Mack will be sharing a birthday. The twins were delivered within twenty minutes of arriving at the hospital. They’re perfect! Everything is going great. More details to come. Love, L.

  Layla: PS—Jag passed out two more times during birth. Pretty sure he missed it all and is now crying like a damn baby.

  Another picture comes through of Jag cradling both baby boys in his arms. Tears roll down his face as he smiles at the camera like the king he is.

  “Holy shit! Jag was so scared Sunni was going to have a C-section. That’s insane.”

  “It is,” I reply, still studying the gorgeous babies. They both have crazy thick black hair and full cheeks.

  We climb back into bed. “Man, I couldn’t be happier for Jag. He’s an annoying dickweed. But I do love the hell out of him.”

  “You know, I think it was him harassing me that first time at the gym that threw me over the edge to try and live.”

  “Yeah, he has that way about him.” Trick pauses, pulling me tight to his side. “Hey, Mack, you want kids one day?”

  “Honestly?”

  “That’d be best.”

  “Never thought it would be an option for me, so I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Oh,” he replies.

  I perch up on my elbow and slap his chest. “Babies with you will be my birthday wish in about four years, though.”

  Chapter 19

  Trick

  Not gonna lie, as much as we all bitch about Jag being the annoying child he is, we all are missing the hell out of him. The gym isn’t the same without his spirit. These past few days training before a big match without him is like fighting with one arm.

  “Hey, you ugly bastard,” he greets me as he whips open the door to his apartment.

  “Move.” Mack pushes past me. “I need to see those babies.”

  I follow Mack into the house. It’s a fucking wreck. Shit strewn everywhere. Takeout boxes stacked in the trash can, clothes everywhere. It seems babies Dexter and Felix really did storm into this world. Sunni and Jag named their twins after Boss and Cruz, using Boss’ real name and Cruz’s last name.

  By the time I stride into the living room, Mack is peering into a double bassinet. I walk up next to her and take a peek myself. Perfection. Two identical baby boys burrow in light blue blankets. There’s no denying who the baby daddy is.

  “Sunni just fell asleep.” Jag runs his hand through his hair. “It’s been a bit crazy around here.”

  It’s now I notice the white shit all over his shirt and the bags under his eyes. Mack must too. What Mack does next shocks the shit out of me. I should know by now that’s just how my girl rolls, always extending a helping hand.

  “Jag, go lie down with Sunni. We can hold down the fort. You need some sleep,” she offers as she begins collecting dirty blankets and clothes.

  “Why don’t you go catch some sleep too, man? You look like shit.” I slap Jag on the back.

  “Ain’t gonna turn down that offer, but just warning as cute as those little shits are, they’re life suckers,” he replies.

  “We can manage. Just chilling all day before the fight tonight. Go sleep.”

  Jag’s a nervous basket case as he shows us where everything is. I’m a bit creeped out by the fact Sunni’s breast milk is in their fridge but know momma’s milk is always the best. As soon as Jag closes the door to his bedroom, Mack and I begin cleaning the disaster area
since the babies are out. A good forty-five minutes later and it looks like a new place. I left Mack up in the apartment when I hauled three trash bags to the dumpster out back. My phone rings as soon as I toss in the bags. My mom again. I don’t need any distraction before the fight. Every fighter has different routines on fight days. My go to is to chill and soak up good vibes. It pains me to know a call from my own mother would have adverse effects on me. I turn off my phone. A dick move, but I have to focus and don’t need any guilt trips looming over my head.

  Tiny squawks greet me when I walk back into the apartment. Mack has both babies in her arms, doing her best to get a bottle in each mouth. Their cries increase the longer they’re forced to wait. I settle in next to Mack and reach for one of the babies. Dexter is printed on his pajamas.

  “Hey, little guy, I’m Uncle Trick.” I run my finger down his soft cheek.

  Mack passes me a bottle. Both babies latch on in unison before waking up their parents.

  “They started squirming, so I used that bottle warmer thing Jag showed us. Thank God you came in when you did,” she whispers.

  “Look at us.” I lean over and kiss her cheek.

  “Pretty amazing, eh?” she responds, staring down at Felix.

  Jag was right; these little guys are life suckers. The most adorable ones around at that. After they polished off their bottles, we burped and changed them, and then they fussed. We walked them around the living room until they passed out. Jag and Sunni never moved out of Jag’s small apartment. I’m impressed the fussy babies didn’t wake them.

  We both slump down on the couch. I pull Mack into my lap while finding something to stream on Netflix.

  “Can we finish watching The Ranch?” Mack whispers into my neck.

  I grumble. Not my favorite, but for her, anything. Into the third episode, the door to Jag’s apartment flies open, startling me. Layla damn near topples over with several grocery bags in her arms. I fly off the couch to help her out.