by Lori Foster
She’s playing hard to get...to win the MMA fighter of her ultimate fantasies in a sultry new novel from New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster
Vanity Baker loves a good, clean match, but she’s not above playing a little dirty. She’s wanted Stack “The Wolf” Hannigan from day one. Seems as though the best way to corral the famously commitment-phobic fighter is to insist on keeping it casual. And her plan works—deliciously well—until Stack’s past steps out of the shadows.
Stack learned early to stay free of attachments. But with sexy, forthright Vanity, he’s the one always left wanting more. Then his troublemaking family comes back into the picture, threatening everything Stack cares about—Vanity included. Suddenly he realizes they’re much more than friends with benefits. He’s ready to go to the mat for her...but will it be in time to protect the woman who’s tamed him for good?
Praise for New York Times
bestselling author Lori Foster
“Readers will be thrilled with Foster’s new sexy batch of fight club heroes and the women who love them.”
—Kirkus Reviews on No Limits
“Storytelling at its best! Lori Foster should be on everyone’s auto-buy list.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Sherrilyn Kenyon on No Limits
“Foster’s writing satisfies all appetites with plenty of searing sexual tension and page-turning action in this steamy, edgy, and surprisingly tender novel.”
—Publishers Weekly on Getting Rowdy
“Foster hits every note (or power chord) of the true alpha male hero.”
—Publishers Weekly on Bare It All
“A sexy, believable roller coaster of action and romance.”
—Kirkus Reviews on Run the Risk
“Bestseller Foster...has an amazing ability to capture a man’s emotions and lust with sizzling sex scenes and meld it with a strong woman’s point of view.”
—Publishers Weekly on A Perfect Storm
“Foster rounds out her searing trilogy with a story that tilts toward the sizzling and sexy side of the genre.”
—RT Book Reviews on Savor the Danger
“The fast-paced thriller keeps these well-developed characters moving... Foster’s series will continue to garner fans with this exciting installment.”
—Publishers Weekly on Trace of Fever
“Steamy, edgy, and taut.”
—Library Journal on When You Dare
Also available from Lori Foster and HQN Books
The Ultimate series
Hard Knocks
(e-prequel novella)
No Limits
Holding Strong
Tough Love
Love Undercover
Run the Risk
Bare It All
Getting Rowdy
Dash of Peril
Men Who
Walk the Edge of Honor
“Ready, Set, Jett”
in The Guy Next Door anthology
When You Dare
Trace of Fever
Savor the Danger
A Perfect Storm
What Chris Wants
(ebook novella)
Other must-reads
A Buckhorn Summer
(ebook novella)
All For You
Back to Buckhorn
(ebook novella)
Heartbreakers
Charade
Up in Flames
Turn Up the Heat
Hot in Here
Animal Attraction
(ebook anthology)
Love Bites
All Riled Up
The Buckhorn Legacy
Forever Buckhorn
Buckhorn Beginnings
Bewitched
Unbelievable
Tempted
Bodyguard
Caught!
Fallen Angels
Enticing
Don’t miss the next book
in the Ultimate series
Fighting Dirty
Dear Reader,
My newest Ultimate series, with books that each stand alone but are connected by characters who know each other, involves mixed martial arts (MMA) fighters and falling in love. The sport brings with it some hunky, capable, alpha heroes so that all I need to do is add in the romance. Superfun for me and, given the reaction to the first three stories (Hard Knocks, an e-prequel novella, and the full-length novels No Limits and Holding Strong), readers are enjoying them, too. I’m thrilled with the feedback I’ve gotten so far, and now I’m pleased to introduce readers to Stack and Vanity’s story!
Their romance starts with a sexy proposition from Vanity. Seems simple enough. But every time Stack thinks he has a handle on things, Vanity throws him for a loop—in a good way. Vanity knows she’s playing a tricky game, but she’s playing to win. I loved writing their romance—and I hope you’ll love reading it!
If you’re not familiar with MMA, no worries. You don’t need to follow the sport to understand the books because the core of these stories is romance—sexy, fun, one-on-one romance. They’re about the fighters—not fighting.
With every new Ultimate book released, I receive reader letters and emails asking which of the fighters will be next. Judging by readers’ reactions, I’m guessing you’ll be excited to learn that Armie’s getting a book of his own! I saved him for last because let’s face it, Armie has some things to work out before he plays the role of romantic hero. But if you’ve read the other books, you’ll have a pretty good sense by now of the woman who just might give him everything—even those things he didn’t know were missing.
Just for fun, at the end of this book you’ll find Back to Buckhorn, a novella from my reader-favorite Buckhorn Brothers series, in print for the first time. While Garrett Hudson is a firefighter rather than an MMA fighter, I think you’ll find he has a lot of qualities in common with my Ultimate men.
I hope you enjoy the reads. And of course, you’re always welcome to reach out to me. I’m very active on most social media forums including Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Goodreads, and my email address is listed on my website at lorifoster.com.
Happy reading to all,
To Whitney Price,
You know I think of you as a daughter, and lil Ruby as a granddaughter. You’re both very special to me.
And because you’re so endlessly sweet (and because of the private joke we started on Facebook) it was extra fun to give your name to the coldhearted fictional character in this book. Yes, you finally get to be really bad!
Love you much,
Lori
Table of Contents
TOUGH LOVE
BACK TO BUCKHORN
EXCERPT FROM HOLDING STRONG BY LORI FOSTER
TOUGH LOVE
Lori Foster
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER ONE
VANITY BAKER TRIED not to look, but she felt the intensity of his stare tracking her every move. She was pretty sure she felt simmering lust, too, and when she peeked at him, sexual heat glimmered hotly in his eyes.
Pretending to dance, she put a hand to her heart to contain the rapid tripping.
Yummy Stack Hannig
an, with the steel biceps and rigid abs, the charm-your-pants-off smile and smoky, gray-blue eyes. Whew. She supposed weeks of teasing could hone the interest of any red-blooded man.
But she didn’t want just any man. She wanted this particular light-heavyweight mixed martial arts fighter. The offer she’d given him—be her escort for their friends’ wedding and she’d take the guesswork out of his post-evening sexcapades—had been pretty daring. But then, she’d needed an edge to get what she wanted.
In the fight world, they called him The Wolf. Since she soaked up everything that had to do with Stack, she’d naturally listened to the rationale for the name. Men claimed he got the handle because of the way he stalked his fight opponents like prey.
Women said he’d earned it in the bedroom—by making the ladies howl.
Vanity shivered, just thinking about it.
She’d known him for months, and other than being polite, other than treating her like one of the group, either flustering her or making her laugh—and often making her hot—he hadn’t made a move.
So she had.
And now, finally, the big day had arrived.
Laughing, the bride and best man danced around her. Yvette, her very best friend, now happily married to her own fighter, looked beyond stunning. Love did that for a woman, Vanity guessed, took away all the shadows and doubt and filled in every empty space with joy.
Love. Yes, anyone who looked at Cannon or Yvette saw it.
In fact, she saw love on the faces of a lot of the guests. The wedding had been the anticipated event with most of the town attending. Yvette had married a very popular guy; everyone adored and respected Cannon, from local shop owners to police detectives and a wide range of fighters, amateurs and pros alike.
All around her their friends talked, laughed, danced. Usually Vanity enjoyed people-watching, but now she barely noticed them as she concentrated on not looking at Stack.
When Yvette announced it was time for her to throw the bouquet, the single ladies all lined up. Cherry Peyton, currently very involved with one of the bigger fighters, Denver Lewis, sidled up next to Vanity.
As part of the wedding party, their dresses coordinated. But as the maid of honor, Vanity’s had a sweetheart neckline instead of spaghetti straps, and where the others were a richer rose color, hers was a paler blush.
Smiling and indulgent, the men all clustered around the bar, looking very fine in their tuxes.
When her gaze met Yvette’s, Vanity knew what her friend would do. Laughing, she played along, her arms up as if she hoped to catch the flowers.
Yvette let them fly—right for Vanity.
But commitment wasn’t what she wanted right now, not while Stack stood there watching her so intently. No way would she chance scaring him off before they’d even had a chance to get together. Not when she was this close to finally knowing him intimately.
At the last second she dipped to the side, and the bouquet hit Cherry’s impressive breasts instead.
Everyone laughed, and when Vanity peeked at Denver, she saw his smug smile. Huh. So maybe matrimony didn’t scare him. Maybe he and Cherry had already made plans.
While the room broke out in catcalls, applause and laughter, Cannon scooped Yvette into his arms, whirled her in a circle, then shouted his farewell and took his smiling bride out a side door.
That made it official—an end to the wedding, allowing her to wrap up her duties as maid of honor. She, too, was now free to leave.
With Stack.
Her heart started pumping harder. An insidious warmth expanded inside her. She drew a careful breath, looked toward Stack, and got caught in his piercing gaze.
For weeks now she’d been tormenting him, kissing him when he least expected it, while also encouraging him to continue his bachelor ways. She’d deliberately confused him with her insistence that he see other women, that it should be “business as usual” for both of them.
Not that she’d been seeing anyone else. But Stack didn’t know that. Since she’d left him free and clear to play the field, she wanted him to think she’d been doing the same.
But no more. After an excruciatingly long wait, tonight was finally their night.
Smiling at Stack, she crooked her finger to beckon him.
As if he’d been waiting with the engine revving, he shot toward her, reaching her in only a few long strides.
The breath she held came out in a gasp as he pulled her against him, locked an arm around her waist and took her mouth with hot, incredible greed.
Whoa. And here she thought she’d been on the ragged edge.
He was so much bigger than her in every way, he made her feel tiny and feminine and fragile. In all other situations her independent soul might have rebelled, but not now. Not with Stack. She trusted him 100 percent, and wanted him even more than that.
Flattening her hands on his chest, she smoothed over the solid wall of his pecs, up to those rock-solid shoulders. Heat poured off him, and—oh, God—he smelled so good. With his big hands opened on her, his mouth eating at hers, she forgot...everything.
The music and the conversation of other guests faded away. She tunneled her fingers into his hair and tried to get closer still.
Someone bumped into them; Stack didn’t stop kissing her. If anything, his tongue became bolder, exploring, tasting.
Laughter, probably from his friends, sounded nearby, and still he didn’t stop. He gathered her closer.
Jarred back to the here and now, Vanity pressed against him. A true gentleman, Stack immediately eased up.
Her lips tingled. Shoot, her whole body tingled. She drew in a shaky breath. “Wow.”
Proving he hadn’t, in fact, forgotten they stood in the middle of the floor at a friend’s wedding, he whispered against her lips, “Let me get you someplace private.” A softer kiss of persuasion. “I’ll give you reason to be wowed.”
Such a tempting promise.
Oh, how she wanted to haul him to the nearest quiet closet. But that would be dumb. What she wanted, what she hoped he ultimately wanted, would require hours, not a few frenzied minutes.
Voice filled with regret, Vanity explained, “I can’t go just yet.”
His rough growl proved his impatience.
“Very soon, I promise.” Adjusting their embrace, her arms around his neck, his hands at her waist, she put some space between them. “Let’s dance while you cool down and I—”
“Dream on.” But he eased his hold and fell into step with her. Gaze burning over her, then lingering on her cleavage, he asked, “How much longer do I have to wait?”
Vanity didn’t pretend confusion; she knew exactly what he meant, exactly what he wanted. “One dance. Then I need to get the bouquet out of the fridge and gather up some presents and—”
He groaned again, prompting Vanity to laugh.
“Let’s talk.” Maybe casual conversation would help cool his jets and give her a needed opportunity to regroup.
“Okay.” He leaned in. “I can’t wait to taste you—all over.”
All over?
“And to get you under me. Or over me. Your preference.”
“Stack.” Her shaky voice sounded weak. “Let’s talk about something that isn’t provoking.”
“Like what? Because honest to God, darlin’, after weeks of your verbal foreplay, I’m feeling pretty damned provoked.”
The smile came slowly. Teasing Stack was a true pleasure.
She wouldn’t mind teasing him for the rest of her life.
“Verbal foreplay?” she asked. “Is that what we’ve been doing?”
Holding her gaze, he pressed his hand lower to the small of her back...and beyond. When her eyes widened, he stopped, and his mouth tipped in his own small smile. “Yeah, you play with words, saying just enough to get me firing on all cylinders.” He ducked his head to steal another quick kiss. “Tonight your playtime is over.”
“I like playing,” she protested. With any luck she’d soon have uninterrupted hours with
his naked body.
“I know you do. But now it’s my turn.” Stack tucked her closer and said softly near her ear, “I’m going to love playing with you.”
“Stack.” She hid her warm face against his warmer throat. She’d drunk very little, but his touch, his scent, intoxicated her. “Everyone is watching us.”
“Wrong.” His lips grazed her throat. “Denver is zoning on Cherry. Armie’s trying to figure out how to dodge Merissa, Miles and Brand are hooking up with some locals, and Leese is surrounded by three young things actively trying to convince him they’re not too young.”
It was the last that had her leaning back to take a look. She and Leese had grown close. She thought of him as her pal, and he accommodated her as long as he didn’t have other plans. Whenever she needed an excuse to be in the same area as Stack, or a platonic date to one of the fight competitions, Leese stepped up for her.
True enough, Leese currently stood off to the side, one shoulder to the wall and an indulgent smile on his handsome face as three remarkably gorgeous girls, probably no more than twenty years old, hung on his every word.
A soft bite to her shoulder regained Vanity’s attention. “Hey!”
Stack licked the spot, then opened his mouth on her, sucking until her toes curled in her shoes and she moaned, entirely forgetting that they were on a dance floor with other people around.
“Better,” he whispered, kissing his way back to her mouth. “Attention on me tonight, darlin’. Me and only me.”
Incredulous, she reared back to see him. “You’re jealous of Leese?”
Blue eyes darkened, turned smokier. “No reason to be, right?”
“None at all.” Being as honest with him as she could, she admitted, “Leese knows I want you.”
Stack missed a beat before resuming the sway of their dance. “You told him about tonight?”
“No.” How much should she admit? She considered it, and decided, why not? “I get hit on.”
That made him laugh.
Feeling her face go hot, Vanity lifted her chin. “Well, I do. So whenever I go to watch one of you fight, Leese goes along with me—as long as he’s not the one fighting and he doesn’t have a date.”
“Using him as repellent, huh?”
