Shifting Gears: The Complete Series (Sports Bad Boy Romance)

by Alycia Taylor

  “I thought you were going to put your clothes in the dryer.”

  “In a minute…or two…” I told him just before my lips reached his cock.

  “Oh fuck!” I felt the muscles in his thighs get hard as I held on to them and engulfed the head of his cock. I ran my tongue all around the rim of it and then I sucked on it…just the head. I could tell by the sounds he was making that he liked it and that made me happy. After a second I began to take the shaft in a little at a time, teasing him still with my tongue as I went along until he couldn’t stand it any longer and he finally grabbed two handfuls of my hair and held my head in place while he thrust his hips up off the bed. As he bucked his hips, I sucked and ran my tongue up and down the length of his cock, feeling the bulging veins along the sides and delighting in the fact that I had done this to him…twice in one day.

  I pushed myself up on my knees so that I was straddling his legs and he was trapped. Then I opened my mouth as wide as I could and I helped myself to all of him, sucking as hard as I could once I felt him hit the back of my throat. His fingers were still tugging at my hair and I could even feel them digging into my scalp. I pulled my head up and lunged down harder and then I did it again…and again until he was crying out, “Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh, baby! I’m coming, Jessie, fuck, baby!” He tried to pull me off him but I felt him grow and swell and I didn’t want to ruin it for him. I’d never done this before, but I’d never been so determined to make a man feel good in my life. I nursed him through it, not taking my lips off until he was completely empty. When he finally relaxed I lifted my head up and looked at him. His blue eyes were wide and he had an expression on his face that I couldn’t quite read. I didn’t need to, though, because a few seconds later he pulled me back up on top of him and kissed me until no words were necessary.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Paul got in the shower while I put my clothes in the dryer and then I got in when he got out. The easy, playful feeling that had been between us just before and just after we slept together was gone and had been replaced with a somewhat awkward silence. I guess that’s the problem with sleeping with someone you hardly know, you’re left with so many questions. When my clothes were dry I put them on and he said,

  “My nephew will be home in about an hour. Do you want me to drive you home, or back to the gym?”

  I didn’t really want to be seen back at the gym looking like I just took a shower. I loved my friends, but the second they saw me getting out of Paul’s truck in the condition I was in, the rumors would begin to fly. “My apartment is fine. I’ll call one of the girls for a ride to work tomorrow. We’re probably just going to be doing clean-up all day anyways.”

  Once we were in the truck I told him how to get to my apartment and then we drove in silence again. I sat wondering what that day meant…if anything, and where we were going to go from there…if anywhere. I also wished that I knew what he was thinking. Was he sorry that we’d had sex? Did he regret having sex with me knowing that he’d have to see me nearly every day while he was at the gym working out? I wasn’t as brave as I’d been earlier…I couldn’t bring myself to ask him. Maybe it was because I was worried about what the answer would be. Maybe he was the love ’em and leave ’em type. Maybe he had a lot of sex with a lot of women with no intentions of ever getting into a relationship. Maybe if I asked him if we were in some kind of “relationship”, he was going to think I was desperate and ridiculous. The worst part was that then I’d still have to look at him every day and hope that he didn’t tell anyone else.

  I just couldn’t turn off my head and all of the questions. Why isn’t this gorgeous man in a relationship at twenty-six years old? Wouldn’t that in itself have been an indication to me before I went and slept with him that he either doesn’t believe in relationships or he’s such a wrecked, troubled person that no woman can stand him long enough? I mean, I don’t even know this guy, really. What I do know about him is that he’s angry a lot and he likes to fight. I don’t only know the bad things, though. I know that he takes care of his sister and his nephew too. I wish I only knew the good or the bad at this point. Knowing both only complicated things, for me anyways. A “normal” person might not have all this angst. Relationships were not my strong suit. I’m attracted like a magnet to men who had problems. I honestly don’t go into the relationship thinking I’m going to “fix” him, but once I’m in it and I find out he’s broken, I have a hard time walking away. That would even be okay if I had a history of any luck “fixing them.” We both just end up broken by the time it finally ends.

  Maybe when Yolanda picks me up for work in the morning I should talk to her about it. First of all, I should find out if he’s a player. Has he already slept with all the single women at the gym? Second, I need someone to help me decide whether or not I’m attracted to this guy because he has problems. My last relationship was fraught with enough problems to last a lifetime. I just don’t want to do that again.

  When we got to my apartment I expected him to leave the truck running and let me jump out. Instead, he shut off the truck and got out and walked me to the door. It was things like that that confused me. He hardly talked, yet when he did he was articulate and usually polite. He was a wild man in the cage but in bed that day he’d been sweet and gentle and attentive…

  “Do you need a ride to work tomorrow? I wouldn’t mind picking you up—”

  “No!” Dang it! I said that too fast. It was rude. “I mean, no, thank you. Yolanda and I have some things we need to talk about so I think I’ll just ask her. She won’t mind.”

  “All right, I guess I’ll see you later,” he said. It was awkward and uncomfortable. Was I supposed to kiss him? Was he going to kiss me?

  “Okay, thanks.” For the ride? The sex?

  “Yeah, you too.” Me too what?

  I unlocked my door and turned to watch him leave before going inside. Once I was in I closed the door and leaned up against it. Damn! What did I get myself into?

  I went over and took out my laptop. I signed into my You Tube account and typed in MMA and Paul Delport. There were a lot of videos going back to 2009. I clicked on one of the most recent ones and watched it. He was incredible. He was so fast that his opponent needed a lot of luck just to be able to catch up with him and connect a punch. I watched another one and found myself in awe of the power behind his punches and his kicks. There was no throwing it here and there and hoping it landed. Every punch and every kick was perfectly timed and infused with power and control. I was completely surprised at myself for finding it so sexy. Truth be told, so far I hadn’t found anything about him that I didn’t find sexy.

  I shut off the videos and sat there thinking about our afternoon together. Maybe we only had sex because I’d basically thrown myself at him. “Go with your impulses,” I had said. Could I really blame our time together that day on him being a player? It didn’t seem like he’d been trying to lure me back to his place for sex. When he had gone with his impulses like I’d told him to, his touches had been so far removed from what I watched him do in the cages last night and what I’d seen him do in these videos. He was still great at it and experienced without a doubt, but there was no hint of anger or aggression or control there. He was a true enigma and I hated to admit it, but that made me want him even more.

  I forced myself to try and think about something else. I finally had a day off and my paycheck should have gone into the bank that day. I picked up my phone and googled “washing machine repair.” I got like two million hits in the city. I blindly picked one and called him.

  “Hal’s appliance repair.”

  “Hi, I have a washing machine that I need to have fixed.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” the guy on the other end asked me.

  I laughed and said, “Well, I was hoping you could tell me.”

  He laughed too and said, “Yeah, you would think, right?” He laughed again and said, “I meant to ask what is it doing, or not doing?”

  “Oh yeah, sorr
y. It doesn’t agitate or spin at all. It just fills up with water and then just sits there. I had to bail the water out with a pot because it was just sitting there and starting to smell.”

  “Okay, I have a few ideas,” he said. I hoped they were inexpensive ideas. “I can come by around three today if someone is going to be there.”

  “Three is good. Thanks!”

  I hung up after giving him my address and my thoughts instantly returned to Paul. I was sure he had problems…he had to. He told me about his sister and how she’d done some of what she did just because she was rebellious. He told me himself…at least he hinted at the fact that he didn’t have a good relationship with his dad. That’s usually a good clue, the parental relationship. My last boyfriend hated his mother. I found out late it was because she was a religious fanatic and she used to constantly tell him that he was going to hell every time he did something wrong. I felt bad for him when I found that out and I realized that was probably the source of his problem. He was an alcoholic. He was twenty-seven years old and had health problems like a fifty-year-old because of it. He was in and out of trouble because of it and I had to drive us everywhere we went toward the end because he had so many DUIs that they took his license away.

  I’d done everything I could think of to get him into a program. I’d researched alcoholism and I’d shared my knowledge with him. I’d researched programs and I’d shared that knowledge with him as well. He wasn’t open to hearing any of it and once I finally decided that if he wasn’t going to go into a program or even AA, I wasn’t going to continue to do all the things I was doing for him, the fight was on. He didn’t go away, that would have been too easy. He was on my doorstep, at my work, on my phone…crying and begging and then accusing and cussing and then crying and begging again. It nearly drove me to drink before he finally got arrested for driving his sister’s car drunk and getting into a fender bender. Thank God he didn’t hurt or kill anyone, but since his blood alcohol level was twice the legal limit and he was driving on a suspended license with three prior offenses, he’d gotten jail time. The phone calls finally stopped only after I called the jail and told them he was harassing me. I don’t think I have the strength or resolve to handle another relationship like that.

  I headed into the kitchen to fix some lunch. I’d all but decided that I needed to end it with Paul now before we got to the point where I found out what was wrong with him and resolved to fix it. I knew myself too well to let it go that far. Before I made it into the kitchen, there was a knock on my door. I looked at the time. It was way too early to be the washing machine guy. I wondered if it was Paul. He’d only left ten or fifteen minutes ago. Maybe he was doing as much thinking as me and coming back to tell me what conclusion he’d come to.

  I went out to answer the door telling myself that I was going to end it that day, once and for all. I pulled open the door and felt my heart drop into my stomach. It wasn’t Paul on my doorstep. It was Mitch.

  PULSE #2

  CHAPTER ONE

  I stood there for a few seconds trying to recover from expecting Paul but finding Mitch on my doorstep. He was so damned big that he actually blocked out the sunlight. I finally recovered but it was a few seconds too long I found out. I didn’t even speak; I just tried to close the door. Mitch outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds so it was no contest. I pushed, he pushed back…I was lucky I didn’t end up on my ass. He ended up in my living room.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I went to grab my phone and he said, “Wait!” I already had the nine and the first one pressed in before he ripped the phone from my hand. My next plan of action was going to be screaming…which I’ve never done before, but what else was I going to do? This man was obviously a maniac judging by the way he’d barged in here. I started to scream for help. “Wait!” he yelled again in his deep, booming voice. “I’m a cop. Just calm down for a second and I’ll show you my ID.”

  “Cops don’t bust down innocent people’s doors!”

  “Look!” He had pulled out his wallet. Holding it in front of my face now, I could see an ID with a smiling, albeit big-headed, Mitch on one side and a gold badge on the other. It said he was a detective with the LAPD.

  “If you’re a cop, you have a lot of explaining to do. This could be fake. Your behavior is sending out more of a thug vibe than a cop one. What kind of cop trashes a gym and scares a woman out of her wits by forcing his way into her apartment?”

  “I didn’t trash any gym,” he said. “I don’t doubt that was your…friend Paul, trying to make me look bad.”

  “Why would Paul want to do that? And don’t say “friend” like that, it’s creepy!” He was insinuating there was more between us. I didn’t like it coming from him. The big ape actually had the gall to laugh. That pissed me off more. “What are you laughing at?”

  “Typical woman,” he said, shaking his head. “Worried about how things look or what people think. I don’t give a shit if you’re his friend or his lover, neither or both. If you were worried about it, you wouldn’t be sneaking over to his apartment midmorning for a quickie,” he said in a lewd voice. “The only people in Paul’s life I’m interested in are his sister and nephew.”

  “Your son?” I suddenly wanted him to know I wasn’t as ill-informed as he might think.

  “Yes, my son,” he said.

  “Why are you traipsing around like a maniac scaring people and picking fights? Why not just go through the courts with this? If you’re such an upstanding citizen…a cop…why wouldn’t they give you custody?”

  “I’m not worried about the custody hearing. I’ll win that hands down. Marie is running with my kid because she knows that she won’t. She’s been gone with him for a long time, and before she left she was wanted on charges of child abuse and neglect. All I intend to do is find her and take her in so she can stand trial for her charges. I also, most of all, want to make sure that my son is safe.”

  I didn’t believe him. I saw Victor…he looked safe and comfortable, not neglected or abused. If Marie had been on the run with him so that she could keep him and abuse him, why would she let him stay with Paul? Wouldn’t Victor tell his uncle if he was being abused? I had also watched this guy pick a fight with Paul and the next day our gym was trashed. Too much coincidence for me. I didn’t buy that Paul went back after his MMA match and trashed it to make Mitch look bad. I needed to try and stay calm though. This guy was a live wire and who the hell knew what he was going to do?

  “I’ll tell Paul you came by if I see him,” I told him in my calmest tone. I felt like I was talking down a bulldog that had his jaws primed to attack. “I have no idea where his sister or his nephew are. I don’t even know them. I’ve barely just met Paul.” Mitch raised an eyebrow at that. I’m not sure what he thought he knew about me and Paul, but the look on his face alone made me feel like I needed a shower. “I’d appreciate it if you leave now.” Before I got the words out, the man had his massive frame so close to me that I could feel the heat coming off his body. I could smell what he had for breakfast on his breath as he lowered his voice and said through gritted teeth, “You can get yourself arrested for withholding evidence in an active police investigation…or you can be smart and just tell me where Marie is hiding.”

  I was shaking inwardly, but determined not to let him see it. I hoped my voice was steady as I gritted my own teeth and said, “I’ve already told you that I have no idea. Now, if you don’t leave, I’ll report you for…your inappropriate police behavior!”

  The bastard laughed, again. “Inappropriate police behavior, huh? Oh please don’t report me for that! You’ll tarnish my sterling reputation.” We had a staring contest, then. It may have lasted five seconds, five minutes or five hours…I really didn’t know. He finally broke the silence by saying, “Look, if you’re worried about Paul wanting revenge on you, I’ll never tell him that you helped me out.”

  “I don’t know where his sister and nephew are,” I said again, this time,
firmer. “You’re wasting your time here, and I’m not afraid of Paul in the least.”

  “Oh cut the crap. I know women. You’re sleeping with him and that means you think you have a right to know his business…” His tone was so disparaging that I wanted to punch him just for his trampling of women’s dignity alone.

  “You do have a low opinion of women, don’t you?” I couldn’t help myself. I bet he had mommy issues. “I have a question for you. If you’re such a good detective, why not just follow Paul?” Mitch didn’t answer that, but I got the feeling from his silence that he’d been following him, with no results. Obviously he followed us here, and obviously he knew I’d just left Paul’s apartment. “You really need to go,” I told him again. I could see the vein in his neck pulsating and he was opening and closing his fists like he wanted to hit something. Since I was the only one in his path, it was safe to say I was worried, but I still wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. I’d never been hit in the face full-on with a fist, but I didn’t imagine it felt too good.

  “I don’t like your attitude. I think I’ll take you down to the station and we can continue this conversation there.”

  I felt like I was going to throw up. If I did, I was going to aim for his ugly shoes and hoped that it splashed all over him. My head was spinning. I didn’t want to believe this man, but when he started threatening to take me in, it made me think maybe there was something to it. Police couldn’t just go around hauling people down to the station if they weren’t under arrest or at least suspected of something, could they? Wouldn’t the other police have questions? Didn’t you have to check things like that with the DA, or was that just my Law and Order law degree talking? I wasn’t sure, but as much as he didn’t like my attitude, I didn’t like the look on his face that told me I’d actually be lucky if he took me in. He looked like he wanted to hurt me.