by Jessie Cooke
Brock
Best of the Bad Boys (Book 2)
Jessie Cooke
J. S. Cooke
Redline Publishing
Copyright © 2017 by Jessie Cooke
All rights reserved.
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Contents
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Brock
1. Brock
2. Lizzie
3. Brock
4. Lizzie
5. Brock
6. Brock
7. Lizzie
8. Brock
9. Brock
10. Lizzie
11. Brock
12. Lizzie
13. Brock
14. Brock
15. Lizzie
16. Brock
17. Lizzie
18. Brock
Excerpt from Jagger
Bonus Book - Kane
1. Kane
2. Kane
3. Cruz
4. Kane
5. Kane
6. Kane
7. Alicia
8. Kane
9. Alicia
10. Kane
11. Alicia
12. Kane
13. Alicia
14. Kane
15. Kane
16. Kane
17. Kane
Acknowledgments
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Brock
1
Brock
The arena is standing room only and the crowd is going crazy. Tonight is my night. I’m ambivalent about that for reasons that have nothing to do with what I want to do to this guy tonight. I want to drop this punk and I want to do it in one punch…This big ass fighter has a big ass mouth to match and he’s been running it to the media all week about how he’s got discipline and I’ve just got rage. I can’t wait to show the fucker some rage. That part is going to be sweet. The part I’m worried about is that once I do that, the only opponent left for me to beat is one of my best friends. Jacob has had the heavyweight belt for a month. He worked his ass off for it. He’s the best fighter that I’ve ever known. But since he won that title, he’s settled down with Cassie and he’s happy which is great. But, that also means that he’s not as focused and driven as he was in the past. He’s let go of a lot of that anger he’d been holding onto his whole life and a lot of that was what drove him in the ring. I still have mine. This punk I’m fighting tonight got that much right. I am driven by my rage. He was wrong about the discipline though. The discipline is what keeps me from using it outside of the octagon.
I feel like at this point in my life I could take on “The Lion” and beat him. But how the hell do I step into an octagon and take on a guy who is like a brother to me? He and Lance are the closest things I have to brothers since mine stepped into that Humvee in Afghanistan and became a statistic. That was three years ago…I still haven’t forgiven him.
“Let’s go, guys.” The ref is calling us to the center. I put those thoughts away for now and looked over at Lizzie, my “ring girl” for the night. For me being in the octagon was usually all about the fight. I love the adrenaline and the sweat and the burn of my muscles…but I’ve discovered recently that I also love any excuse to be close to her. She’s got the round one card in her hand. Her long dark hair is pulled back into a slick ponytail tonight and it shimmers underneath the lights. Her eyes are huge…it’s the first thing I ever noticed about her. She reminded me of one of those “Big Eyes” paintings that my grandmother used to have all over her house. They’re as dark as her hair and surrounded by these long, thick, sexy black eyelashes. She looks gorgeous, but sad. She’s had a hard time of it lately. Finding out that Lance was gay shocked us all…but I got the feeling Lizzie was falling for him so it was bad for her. I asked Lance about it and he told me they spent one night together…the night of his birthday party. Since then, they’d spent a lot of time together but he swore to me they hadn’t slept together since. I didn’t give a shit that he was gay. He was still Lance. But for some reason it really bothered me that he’d led Lizzie on. I was worried about her…she just doesn’t look healthy lately…When I told Lance that he said it sounded like maybe I was the one with the feelings. I punched him in the gut.
She smiled at me and winked. That’s better. That’s the Lizzie I know, always flirty and full of spunk. I winked back and thought about how sexy her lips looked with that shiny pink stuff she put on them. I had to shake that thought off or I’d be the one getting knocked on my ass tonight. I tore my eyes off her face and went to the center of the octagon. I’d have to worry later what to do about Jacob. Every time I looked at this guy’s face I saw red. I’m knocking him out…in the first round. We tap gloves…a little harder than necessary and “The Leach” snarled. I used to have a kitten that looked scarier when it hissed. I grinned at him…judging from the look I got back, I’m not so sure his rage is all that well controlled.
This crowd is rowdy tonight, and they’re probably about to be pissed at me. This punk is hitting the mat with his back in under a minute and he ain’t getting back up. I’m not in the mood to screw around tonight. Some days, all I want to do is fight. That’s why I get in this octagon…otherwise I’d be in a different kind of cage, I’m sure. But not tonight…I think maybe Lizzie needs some cheering up. I looked at her again as she did her little strut by with the card. She looks like she put on a little bit of weight since the last time she was in the cage with me. Her ass looks damned good with those shimmery green shorts stretched across it. I like my women with something on them that I can grab on to. I don’t care much for the skinny ones. I’ve always been an ass man.
The bell rang and I put up my fists and met Gregorio “The Leach” Saldivar in the center. Yeah, there’s no mistaking it. That’s definitely rage I see there in his eyes. Come on you big mouth pussy, throw a punch…just one and then I’m taking you down. The crowd is screaming for someone to throw a punch as we circle around each other. The Leach is playing to them, trying to look tough. It’s not working. I was already tired of looking at him. I exploded from my right shoulder and my fist landed squarely between his eyes. His feet actually came up off the ground as he flew back, arms and legs splayed in the air…and he slammed down into the mat. I’m sure they felt tremors in the hotel rooms above us. The fucker was out cold.
There was a dead silence in the packed arena for just a few seconds until the ref finished checking that The Leach was still breathing. Then he held up my arm and said,
“The winner by knockout…Brock ‘The Rock’ Carter!”
The crowd was no doubt bemoaning the fact that some of th
em had paid over a hundred dollars for their seat tonight…for one punch. I didn’t care. That punch felt phenomenal. I looked over at Lizzie again. She gave me another wink and then suddenly she was obscured from my view as I was surrounded by Lance and Jacob and my trainer Derek and…What the fuck is Micah doing in here? I hate that guy! I got back slaps and high fives and knuckle bumps. My trainer gave me shit as I knew he would for not at least putting on a show for the sold-out crowd. I’m not a performer. I’m a fighter. If they don’t like it, fuck ‘em.
I wanted out of the cage now. I was done. All I wanted to do now was hit the locker room, take my shower and get the hell out of here and find Lizzie. I didn’t even get a chance to ask her if she was going to the after party. That’s okay, I know Cassie will be with Jacob and she’ll know.
I had to answer a few questions from the media and Bradley Stanton, the guy who actually owns us wanted to congratulate me.
“Brock the Rock! That was amazing! Not so fast next time though or these fans might stop buying tickets. Then my wife might not be able to go shopping so often and she’ll leave me for a younger, richer man…and it’ll be all your fault.”
I maintained a neutral facial expressing when he mentioned his wife. Years of practice had perfected it. I met Bradley’s wife once. She gave me a blow job in the bathroom at Senor Frogs before she told me who she was. I think she likes to do a lot more than shop.
“Thanks Brad. I’ll see what I can do to string the next one out.” And your wife has some wicked fat lips.
“The next one will be for the title…you ready for that?” Am I ready to face Jacob in the ring? Hell if I know.
I told him what he wanted to hear. “I’m always ready.” I grinned at him and he seemed convinced. He left finally with an,
“I’ll see you at the party,” thrown over his shoulder.
I took my shower and then I text Jacob…. “Hey! Are you guys going to the party?”
I got one back a few seconds later…. “Nah, not tonight, I need some time with my girl.” I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t really disgust…it was jealousy. All I’ve ever wanted was what Jacob and Cassie have. So far, I haven’t been able to find a woman that stuck. From the outside looking in, I’m a player. In all honesty, I want to be a one-woman guy…I just have yet to meet the woman that fit the idea I’ve had in my head for so long. I thought I’d met her once…but then she’d done something unforgivable. I shuddered at that thought and I text Lance next…
“You going to the party?”
“Nah, meeting Ian.”
Jesus! I’m surrounded by nothing but a bunch of pussies in love. I searched my contacts until I found Lizzie’s number. She was the one I really wanted to see anyways. I’m not sure why I didn’t just text her in the first place. I’m not a shy guy. Just the thought of it made me chuckle. I started hitting on girls when I was thirteen years old. I’m famous in Vegas for that first kiss, most of the time before I even know her name. I see a girl that I want and I go for it. Nudge her gently up against a wall, whisper up against her ear how beautiful she is and then kiss her like she’s never been kissed. Most of them can’t let you walk away after that. Girls love kissing. Most of them. I got kneed in the groin once but that was back in middle school and I’ve been slapped a few times and punched once…but it usually worked.
I’ve never tried it with Lizzie. I’d only really started to notice her about the time she and Lance got drunk and spent the night together. I’d wanted to kiss her that night…but she was all over Lance and him her…After she left with him I’d gone home alone. I never go home alone. Never. But there wasn’t a single other girl in that bar that I wanted after fantasizing about ripping the little dress she’d worn to the party off her that night. When I found out that her and Lance had sex that night…I put the thought out of my mind…well, not out, completely…but somewhere way in the back. It resurfaced now that Lance has Ian…and a whole lot of other headaches. There’s really nothing standing in the way…unless she really is hung up on Lance.
I waited a good ten minutes and got nothing back. Shit! Maybe she’s already at the party. I headed out to the parking garage. I figured I’d drive down to the Dolphin Club where the party was tonight and see if she’s there. If not, I’m sure there will be eighty or ninety other big-booty girls who might be looking for a date. My bike was parked way in the back. I never used the motorcycle parking stalls. Every ass wipe in Vegas thinks they have a right to walk along the row of bikes and touch them. I got sick and tired of wiping strangers fingerprints off my chrome. They’re lucky I’m not with C.S.I. or I’d run those prints, track them down…and make them wish they had better impulse control. I was almost there when I heard voices. They were coming from the alcove that blocked the elevator from view. I could hear a guy laughing…more than one, I think…but what caught my attention was the female voice. It sounded like Lizzie.
“Please…you don’t want to do this.”
“Oh baby, we want to. You’re gonna love it.”
“Please,” she sounded like she was crying and then I heard her say, “I’m pregnant…”
“I don’t mind,” a male voice said, “Do you mind?”
“I don’t mind at all,” another guy said, slurring his speech. “I actually prefer banging a chick that’s already knocked up, and then I don’t have to worry about it.” Lizzie’s pregnant? What the fuck?
“You sure looked hot shaking your ass in the cage tonight. Come on and give us a shake, baby.”
“Stop it! Don’t touch me.” Shit! They’re touching her? They’re about to have the same problem as the Harley touchers…
“I’ll shake my ass for you.” I said it as I stepped into view. I wish I had a camera. The looks on these two Ivy League asshole’s faces when they saw me was priceless. I might request a copy of the security tape that the stupid, drunk fuckers probably hadn’t even considered. I glanced at Lizzie. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and a V-neck t-shirt. She was looking at me with gratitude and relief on her face.
One of the guys, who looked like he was trying way too hard to look like Brad Pitt and failing miserably said, “You’re Brock the Rock!”
“Yep, that’s me and guess what?”
They grinned. Fucking morons. “What?”
“You’re gonna get to go home to New England or wherever you’re from and go to that Ivy League school of yours and tell all of your friends that you got knocked the fuck out by Brock the Rock…that is…once they unwire your jaw and you can talk again.” The only thing I saw then was the ass end of two pairs of designer jeans as they leg bailed it out of there. Lizzie was still standing about three feet away from me and she was looking at the floor in front of her.
“Hey, are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
She looked up at me. Her pretty dark eyes were filled with tears. I took a step towards her and she closed the rest of the space and flung herself into my arms. I was surprised…but not bothered by it in the least. She was warm and soft and she smelled like springtime.
I held her and drank her in with all my senses. It was what I’d wanted to do for so long…I didn’t mean to kiss her. Those assholes just scared her half to death…if I was any kind of gentleman I would have just held onto her until she stopped crying and then I would have seen her home. I’m no gentleman and I get routinely popped upside the head by my mother as proof. I slid my hand up from her waist to her neck and rested it there as I pulled her in closer. I felt her tense. I’m not a gentleman, but I’m not a complete dick either. If she didn’t want this, I wasn’t going to force it on her. I felt her warm breath against my face then as she looked up at me. I saw the look her eyes. I’m no stranger to that look. She wanted me. I let my lips meet hers and I experienced something I’d only read about…and of course made fun of…my knees literally went weak. For a second I thought they weren’t going to hold me up. I didn’t care. If I fell on my face in the middle of this garage, that sexy kiss she gave me would be worth missing a few tee
th for.
When she broke the kiss she had an uncertain look on her face. There was nothing uncertain about how I was feeling. “Come home with me?” I whispered it…not trying to be sexy but because I could hardly breathe.
She nodded. Thank God. I didn’t waste any time. I took her hand and led her over to the bike. That was when she balked. She was eyeing the Harley like it was a snake and might bite her. “Maybe I should take my car and meet you there.” I didn’t answer that. Instead I leaned down and kissed her again. This time she parted those pretty pink lips and let my tongue slip in between them. I kissed her long and slow and when I pulled back, her face was flush and she was out of breath.
“I guess it will be okay…” I handed her my helmet and grinned.
2
Lizzie
I had to take my ponytail out to put on the helmet. I shook out my hair, slipped it on and fumbled with the chin strap. Brock moved my shaking hands and surprisingly with his big hands, had no problems tightening and fastening it for me. His gentle touch made me shiver…it had been a while since I’d been with a man, much less one that touched me so softly.
