Consumed

by Alycia Taylor

  CONSUMED

  THE MMA NEW ADULT ROMANCE SERIES

  By Alycia Taylor

  Copyright 2014. All rights reserved.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  BRAXTON

  I was lying on my bed with this chick named Claire. It wasn’t hard to get her there. She was kind of an easy one as most girls were after they met me. She wasn’t too bad looking either. I never had problems getting the hot ones, since I started fighting and building up my body, but today I was so horny that the only requirements I set forth in my head was that she be over eighteen and at least younger than forty. And she had to have all her female parts intact.

  I hadn’t gotten her all the way undressed yet, but so far she met the first two requirements. As we kissed, I had taken off her shirt and unhooked her bra. I was working on the jeans so that I could make sure she met requirement number three. She still had her hands on the side of my face like we were lovers.

  I decided that was enough of that.

  We both knew what this was, a simple pump and dump and she would be gone. I took her right hand off my face and placed it on the front of my pants. She started rubbing the lump and I could feel the rest of the blood from my head rushing down there, causing it to pulsate. We were still kissing as I unzipped my fly, giving her room to put her hand down inside my jeans. Again she needed me to guide it. She must have been lying about “how experienced she was”.

  Oh well, I was willing to show her the ropes.

  “Oh yeah, there you go,” I said, praising her for finally making skin on skin contact.

  She stroked it and damn did it feel good. She continued to probe my mouth with her out of control and sloppy tongue. I wriggled my hand down into the top of her tight jeans and was just about to strike gold when the doorbell rang.

  Shit!

  Claire froze, like maybe someone had walked in the room.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. “Don’t stop.”

  “Oh, don’t you want to get that?”

  I thrust my hard-on against her hip and said, “Does it feel like I want to get the door?”

  She giggled and wrapped her hand tightly around it again. My eyes were rolling back in my head as she pumped it up and down…. and then the fucking doorbell rang again.

  “Are you sure you don’t need to get that?” she questioned, raising her thin eyebrows.

  “Shit! Yes, I guess I better,” I groaned, pushing myself up off the bed.

  She slid her hand out of my pants as I got up. I wanted to punch the wall. Being interrupted when I was about to seal the deal made me pissed.

  Someone was going to get it.

  “Wait there,” I told her as I adjusted myself. “I’ll be right back.”

  She didn’t say she would, but she didn’t move to get off the bed yet either. Maybe I could still get lucky. I jogged down the hall towards the door thinking it damn well better be important.

  CHAPTER TWO

  EMMI

  I was standing there on the doorstep hoping that someone was home. I had taken a chance and sent him the first four hundred dollars for the rent through the mail. When I had told my mother I’d done that, she had freaked out a little bit. Okay, she had freaked out a lot. Mom didn’t trust anyone, especially men.

  I had talked to this guy by email and on the phone since I had found the apartment listing at the urging of my mother. He seemed honest enough, I guess. I really needed a place to stay. I got a late start on school and the semester had already begun. I lived a hundred miles away so I needed a place. The dorm rooms were completely filled.

  No one was answering… still. I raised my hand to ring the bell again, and that’s when the door was suddenly jerked open.

  The best looking guy I may have ever seen was looking at me with pure disgust as he said, “What?”

  “Hi,” I said, a bit timidly.

  I’m positive my mouth was hanging open after rubbing my eyes open. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and his biceps stretched the material across them. His dark blonde hair laid slightly mussed and his dark green eyes were sending me a seething glare. Definitely hot, but his aura was not sending me good signals.

  “I’m Emmi, your new roommate,” I announced, reaching out my hand.

  “Fantastic fucking timing, Emmi. Let me tell you something, and listen good, okay. Rule number one in this house is you’re only allowed to live here until the next time you break rule number one,” he said in a deep voice, ignoring my hand.

  I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He hadn’t told me what rule number one was. He was still staring at me with those dark green eyes like he expected me to say something.

  “I’m sorry. What is rule number one?” I asked after a brief awkward silence.

  “No cock-blocking, ever. I was just about to get me a nice piece…”

  “Braxton?”

  There was a blonde girl coming towards us from up the hall. She was buttoning her blouse and adjusting her skirt, hiding her model looking body. So he was a womanizer.

  Great.

  She stopped and kissed him on the cheek and said, “I have to go. Call me, okay?”

  Braxton didn’t respond to her, he was still giving me the stink-eye. When the girl brushed past him and then me, he stepped aside and let me come in. He slammed the door behind me. He was obviously pissed.

  How the hell was I supposed to know he went around having sex in the middle of a Friday afternoon when other people are at school or work? He forgot to put in the ad that he was a playboy. Not wanting to start this arrangement off with an argument, I took a deep breath.

  “I’m really sorry I… interrupted you. I thought you were aware that I was coming today,” I forced myself to say.

  I was still standing close to the door when he stepped up close to me, right into my three feet ring of personal space. Then he unexpectedly threw his muscular arm around me, causing me to fall against his bare chest that smelled unbelievable.

  Felt good too.

  “You can make it up to me,” he said amused.

  “How?” I asked, more out of curiosity than a desire to help.

  “You can finish what she started,” he said, actually looking me up and down like he could see through my clothes.

  I was hoping that wouldn’t be the answer. I laughed, out loud. He was either crazy or stupid.

  “I don’t care if I’ve already broken twenty rules; you and I are not having sex.”

  I pulled free but he actually tried to put his arm around me again.

  “You would love it.”

  I did kind of a duck and turn thing and left his arm hanging there in the air this time. If I wasn’t so pleased with myself, I would be embarrassed for him.

  “Well, my number one rule is that I don’t sleep with my roommates. Ever. Where’s my room?”

  He kind of smirked. I think he was trying to regain some of the dignity he’d lost. Hopefully it wasn’t because he realized I was gawking over the way he looked the moment I met him.

  “This way,” he said, motioning towards the hall.

  I followed him, but far enough behind that I could turn and run if I needed to. He opened the first door on the right. I maneuvered around him and stepped into the room. The room was fully furnished with a bed, dresser, and bedside table. It was big enough that it could have been a dining room. It was actually nice.

  “Thanks,” I told him cautiously, not wanting to break any other rule I didn’t know about.

  He positioned himself in the doorway then, in a pose that I’m sure I was supposed to find irresistible. He was good looking but he was trying too damn hard
to keep my attention.

  “I’m just up the hall if you need me.”

  He saw the door coming in time and stepped back. That was probably good. I’d hate to have blood spurted all over my new bedroom door.

  I threw my bags on the floor and dropped, exhausted, to the bed. It was a nice bed, a nice room, a nice apartment in a good neighborhood. I thought about the hot guy down the hall then and wondered what in the hell I had gotten myself into.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BRAXTON

  The sexual frustration was killing me. My “roommate” had arrived on Friday morning and since she had run off Claire, I hadn’t been having any luck at all getting laid. It was Labor Day weekend, maybe that had something to do with it.

  I was lying to myself.

  My standbys were mostly out of town, and my trainer had worked me hard Friday afternoon so all I had wanted to do was pass out when I got home. Saturday Emmi spent most of her time in her bedroom or the bathroom, and when she did come out, she was like a little viper ready to strike whenever I got near her.

  I accidentally brushed up against her ass when we passed in the hallway that morning and she acted like I had molested her. The hall is narrow and I told her it wasn’t my fault. I might have let my hand linger there a little longer than was socially acceptable, but I know girls who would pay to have my hand on their ass. Not this weekend… but usually.

  I had planned on going out Saturday night but for some reason I’d decided to stay home and antagonize my roommate a bit more. I actually thought if I spent enough time with her, she would cave. I had worn a white muscle t-shirt that I know my biceps look hot in, and I was even nice. She continued to walk in wide circles around me whenever we were in the same room.

  It would actually have been funny, if I hadn’t been so damn horny. It was hard not to just grab and kiss her hard. I could feel myself getting hard just thinking about it. It wasn’t her though, any female would have done. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a pretty little brunette. She has that fresh-faced, girl next door look with big brown eyes and long eyelashes I’m sure she learned how to bat by the time she was three. She has a sexy little body too, curvy in all the right places, but she’d have to do some serious work on that attitude before I’d ever actually date her.

  I just needed to get laid. As soon as that happened I’d be able to walk circles around her and barely notice that she’s a girl.

  Sunday morning I lingered in bed a while longer than I should have so when I did finally get up I had to hurry like hell and I wasn’t quiet. I left my new roommate locked in her room and headed down to my truck to go to the gym. The whole time I was driving I kept thinking that she was probably awake in there and just waiting for me to leave before she got up.

  She thought I was a pervert and she was right. So it sure wasn’t going to stop me from getting her in bed. Besides the bad attitude, she seemed a little timid. She was probably a virgin, just how I like them. That’s a nice thought. I rarely run across one of those anymore.

  What’s the worst that would happen if I went for it? She’d get pissed and I would have to look for a new roommate? I lived so close to campus, that was never really a hard thing to do. I looked at the time and pressed on the accelerator. My red big four wheel drive Dodge truck shot forward faster. As I raced towards the gym hoping Sam wouldn’t notice I was late, I started thinking that it was probably going to be like a big magnet for the cops in town. The chicks dug it though so I didn’t care that I had just enough money to pay for it from my last few fights.

  “Hey, Sam,” I said as I went in the front door of the gym.

  He was of course standing up front waiting for me. My trainer is not just a big guy, he’s massive. Think of the Incredible Hulk, and then think about what he would look like after he took steroids for a few years. Sam was a Mack truck. He was also pissed that I was late. I could see it on his face.

  “Braxton.” he said, looking at his watch. “Nice of you to show the fuck up.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I got a new roommate Friday… getting her settled in and all that, you know.”

  Sam was about thirty-five I would guess. In his heyday he had won every Mr. Strongman competition in the state and when he was still young, he was a kick boxer for a while. When he was about twenty-five after he’d taken one hell of a beating, his doctor told him if he got one more concussion his brain was likely to become nothing but a pile of mush. I’m sure the doctor had put it more professionally, but that was the story Sam told. Sam said that he’d considered fighting anyway and had even tried to but since he was doing it in a legal setting, fighting professional MMA, his doctor had to sign off on the physical. He wouldn’t do it so Sam got a job at the local gym as a personal trainer. He and his brother-in-law invested in an old warehouse just outside the city and started their own “underground fight club.” He still does the training, scoping out the gym for guys like me who he can mold into winning a butt load of money for his club.

  “I keep telling you, Braxton… girls and fighting doesn’t mix. You have to keep your head in the game or you’ll end up getting it knocked off.”

  “This girl is my roommate, that’s it.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow as much as he was able to with the big moon face that he had.

  “I know you, Brax remember. Ain’t no such thing as a girl you ain’t gonna try and fuck.”

  “Nah, this one seems kind of uptight. I’m not really into her type. Let’s get busy now. What are we doing today?”

  “Legs,” Sam said.

  He knew I was full of it; there wasn’t a female who wasn’t my type as long as she met the conditions I had set forth for Claire on Friday. And, I knew he was full of shit too, today wasn’t leg day. He was just trying to punish me because he’s pissed. Leg day was on Tuesday and I knew that because I hate leg day. It hurts, and I walk funny for two days afterwards.

  Forget about the missionary position or doggy style. If I can’t find a girl who’s willing to get on top… well then let’s just say I’m NOT getting any.

  “Today’s Sunday Sam.”

  “I know what day it is.”

  “Then what’s with ‘leg day’ all of a sudden on a Sunday, God’s day?”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “We can say a prayer before we start if you want to. This week is about doing everything we normally do, only three-fold. The fights are only a few weeks away man and you ain’t ready. Those guys outta Chicago and New York will kick your scrawny ass across town.”

  I wasn’t in any way, scrawny. At six-foot two and two-twenty five of mostly solid muscle, I was bigger than most guys I knew… except Sam.

  I knew an argument was pointless, so all I responded was, “Okay, but do I at least get to spar today?”

  “I’ll see if Jack is around, after you do your leg routine.” he said.

  Jack was another big dude that hangs around the gym. I’d have to add him to that list of guys that were bigger than me. Way bigger. He doesn’t work at the gym like Sam does, but he should, he’s here enough. He makes what money he does from fighting in tournaments. He’s old and tired though, at least a few years older than Sam, and he’s let his gut go soft and his legs get flabby. He doesn’t win much anymore, unless they put him up against a little skinny guy and then he just uses his weight to pin the guy down. He’s been trying to get into MMA but he’s way too old and out of shape for that. That’s what Sam thought he was grooming me for, professional MMA fighting. I’m just doing this for the women and the money. Getting beat up wasn’t going to be my career but for now it worked. The last thing I wanted to be doing when I was their age was getting the crap beat out of me by a guy who was the age I was now. That would suck. I have a brain that I intend to use to support myself when I’m their age.

  After finishing my leg routine I went to the back where the boxing ring was. Jack and Sam were both there, talking about the tournament that I was entered in, coming up in a few weeks.

  “I’ve got
sixty four guys now. I closed it down to new entries unless someone drops out before then,” Sam was telling Jack.

  “Jeez man, sixty four at a two thousand dollar entry fee a pop? You’re makin’ a killin’.”

  I often wondered if getting your face and head pummeled on for years made you lose the part of your brain that added a “g” onto the end of your words. Sam and Jack both ended everything with an “in’” instead of an “ing”.

  “I put most of it back into overhead,” Sam was telling him as I put on my gear. “Besides, it’s only one hundred twenty six thousand dollars at two thousand a pop because I waived our boy Braxton’s fee.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were waiving fees? I would have entered myself.” Sam laughed.

  “I mean no offense, Jack. These guys are the best of the best as far as underground fighting goes. Most of them are better than many of the professional MMA fighters. They just can’t get into the legal fights for one reason or another… as you know all too well.”

  Jack looked pissed, but he knew even if the sixty-four underground fighters couldn’t kick his ass; Sam could, so he dropped it. I was a little hesitant to get in the ring with him now though. Thanks, Sam.

  “You ready kid?” Jack asked me.

  I had all my equipment on so I couldn’t pussy out without getting made fun of.

  “Let’s do this,” I told him, slamming my clenched fist into my opposite palm.

  As I was climbing into the ring Sam whispered, “Get the fat S.O.B. on the ground. He won’t be able to recover.”

  With a swift hand motion once we were both in the ring, Sam bade us to fight. It didn’t matter who I was fighting- as soon as the action started my heart started pumping faster and I could feel that burst of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

  Jack came out swinging like he wanted to take my head off. I started a dancing, dodging fleet-footed kind of combat. I was responding to Jack’s every jab with a well-timed duck. I waited for him to get worked up and out of breath and then I landed one on the side of his head. He shook it off like Goliath batting away David’s tiny little fists and came back at me with a knee. It connected with my belly and I was hurled back into the ropes. Before I could get my bearings or my breath back the big S.O.B. was on me. I was suddenly a heap on the floor in a flurry of writhing limbs, two of which were already shaky from Sam’s ill-timed leg work-out. If Jack let me live through this, I might tell him so too.