UNBROKEN: A Bad Boy MMA Romance (Midwest Alphas) (Book 2)

by Kiss, Tabatha

  He sighs, unsurprised by my tone. “I understand that you’re angry with me, Claire,” he says. “I should have told you what I was doing…”

  “And?” I urge.

  “And…” He nods. “I shouldn’t have offered you as a prize.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.”

  “You have every right to be angry with me, but…” he whispers. “Right now, I need my girlfriend.”

  I pause. “You’ve never called me that before.”

  “It fits, I think,” he chuckles and winces from the pain it brings him. “Switch roles for an hour. You can resume being my pissed off, hard-ass Dame in the morning.”

  I bite my lips to hold back my smile. “An hour,” I say. “Two, tops.” I see his lips curl in the darkness. I pull my comforter down and offer half of my small bed to him. He slides inside, moving slowly to ease his wounded body down to me to rest against the headboard.

  “Speaking of Dames…” he whispers. “What’d you think of the others?”

  “Scary,” I admit.

  “Why?”

  “I feel like I don’t fit in with them,” I say.

  “So what?” he asks. “You’re not going to make a great Dame because you fit in, Claire. You’re going to make a great Dame because you stand out.”

  “Well, my finesse is only going to get me so far, it seems.”

  “When your finesse runs out,” he continues, “your experience will carry you the rest of the way. Just give it time.”

  “I guess.” I push in closer and bring my hand to his face. “Any ideas on how you’re going to explain this to Charlie?” I ask.

  He lets my fingertips graze his cheeks, hovering barely a centimeter above the fresh, dark scabs. “I don’t think factory equipment is going to work this time—Ow—!”

  I wince as my finger accidentally presses against his bruised eyelid. “Sorry—!”

  He grabs my hand away from his face and brings my fingers to his lips for safekeeping. “I love you, Claire,” he says, his comforting breath warming my chilled fingers. “Alpha Dame or not, you’re always going to be my girl.”

  “I love you, too, Tobias,” I whisper back. I push forward, but quickly think the better of it. I want to kiss him so badly, but doing so would probably bring him great physical pain.

  As if reading my mind, he leans down to brush his lips against mine. He purses them slightly, but keeps them soft and pliable. I feel the rush of adrenaline tremble his nerves, an after effect of a night of violence. “If I could make love to you right now, I would,” he tells me, his voice so light on the air, I almost don’t even hear it.

  My fingers fall down his body, softly caressing the thick muscles beneath his skin. He shudders against my touch, wincing slightly as his muscles involuntarily flex. “Let me take care of you tonight,” I whisper as my hand fishes beneath the elastic band of his sweat pants. He’s already hard, throbbing for me as I wrap my nimble fingers around the thick, familiar shaft.

  Tobias sighs as I stroke him, his pulse increasing with each slow glide of my fist. I listen for his body language, feeling his pleasure overwhelm his pain. A bead of precum touches my finger and I lick my lips, imagining his taste on my tongue. I shift down slowly, aligning myself with him and pulling his manhood free of his pants. He lays a hand on the back of my head, burrowing his fingers into my brown hair as I push his tip between my lips. I gently lave the underside of his thick crown with my tongue, forcing his hips to buck and his thighs to quiver beneath me. I plan to take it slow, to consider his body’s threshold for pain, but his fingers wrap tightly around my hair to urge me to suck him faster.

  I bob my head back and forth, letting his sweet nectar drip along the length of my tongue. I moan for him, forgetting and not caring about the noise it makes. I suck him harder, feeling the hollow of my cheeks tighten around him as I go. He groans above me, his body muscles twitching, but he doesn’t make me stop. I coax the pleasure through him, maintaining my pull as my tongue tickles and licks at him. He swells even more between my lips, his piercing desire overwhelming every urge he may have to stop and slow down.

  His thick spurt targets the back of my throat, filling the cavity with multiple streams of warm liquid. It spills across my tongue and I moan once more, his taste enticing my buds with his perfect flavor before I send it back. His grip on my hair loosens as his trembling muscles relax down and his shaft returns to normal in my mouth.

  “Claire…” he whispers my name between long breaths. I sit back and he pushes my hair away from my sweat-covered forehead. “Come here.”

  I lean in closer and he cups my warm cheeks tightly before planting a sweet kiss on my raw lips. I quiver against him and feel my own painful erotic energy surging throughout my body. I ignore it and stare back into his eyes. “Are you okay?” I ask, thinking of the bruised muscles of his working abs.

  He doesn’t answer me and breathes out a soft chuckle before holding me against him, happiness bleeding from every nerve ending of his body.

  We lie down together and I listen to the fast beating of his heart before slowly drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Show Some Respect

  Luckily, Charlie usually lets me sleep in as much as I want on Saturdays or else he probably would have walked in at the crack of dawn to find his son half-naked in my bed.

  I wake up around nine, the memories of the previous night a distant blur in my mind. As the vision becomes clearer, I feel worse and worse. Tobias challenged Rick. And he lost. But not really. But if he does lose again, he agreed to return me to the man I swore I’d never go back to. I am not happy about that last part, but I’ll be the good girl and let Tobias recuperate a little before bringing up that argument again.

  But it won’t stop me from trying to solve this little problem myself first.

  “What are you doing today?” I say into my phone. I pace around my room alone after sneaking Tobias back into his own bed. I told him to stay there and spend the entire day resting up. No training. No push-ups on his bedroom floor. Sleep and nothing but sleep.

  “I have to work a double at the store,” Amy snarls. I hear her moving back and forth, her feet tapping along the hard wood floor of her old apartment. “Not my favorite Saturday activity, but such is life…”

  I bite my lip, disappointed at the sudden monkey wrench in my plan. “Damn…”

  “Why, what’s up?” she asks.

  “I need to borrow your car.”

  “Umm… no.”

  “Please.”

  “Why?”

  I step to my bedroom door and pull it open slightly to make sure there’s no one listening from the hallway. There isn’t, of course, but my paranoia hasn’t exactly steered me wrong lately. I close it tight and lower my voice. “I need to go back to St. Louis.”

  “Why do you need my car for that?” she asks again. “Can’t you and Toby take his bike?”

  “I need to talk to Rick.”

  There’s a long silence. Even her feet, easily audible on the floor just a few seconds ago, have come to a sudden halt. “Please tell me you have a good reason for this.”

  “Last night, Tobias did something really stupid after his fight with Rick.”

  “You mean, worse than the fight itself?” she jokes.

  “Kind of. Maybe. Basically, whoever wins the tournament gets the girl.”

  “Beg pardon?” she spits. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I think I can talk some sense into Rick about it but I don’t want to do it over the phone,” I say. “And I don’t want Tobias involved.”

  “I can see why,” she mutters. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll come pick you up. You can take my car while I’m at work.”

  “Thank you, Amy.”

  “Just don’t crash it. He’s my baby.”

  I hang up, happy that convincing her took less effort than I initially feared it would. Going in person to talk to Rick is a horrible idea, this much I know, but I can’t shake the
idea from my head. Tobias is out for the day. Charlie is used to me and Amy spending our Saturdays together nowadays, so I can count on him not asking too many questions about my whereabouts. It’s now or never and I won’t be able to sit still until it’s all over with.

  I crack open Tobias’ door and peak inside the dark room. I see him, lying there in his bed, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his breath. He lost the fight on purpose, but I can’t help but wonder how much of that is true. Tobias is a wonderful fighter, but he’s out of practice. Rick has been training, building himself up into a machine. He couldn’t beat Tobias last year when he attacked him in the barn, but he might be able to beat him now. Tobias seems confident that he can’t, but…

  I’m honestly not sure.

  ***

  “Do you even know where he is?” Amy asks as we speed down the highway towards town.

  “I called my mother,” I answer. “She said he’s been living on people’s couches since he moved, but last night, I noticed Rick was wearing a sweatshirt with an embroidered logo on it — looked like a curved dumbbell.”

  “Right…” She nods, her eyes straying from the road for a brief moment.

  “I ran a search for local gyms in St. Louis and came up with one that had that logo.” I hold up my phone and flash the online map of the area. “I figured I’d start there and ask around.”

  “That’s on the east side, Claire,” she warns, moving her eyes back to the road. “Not the best place for a girl like you to be wandering around alone.”

  “Well, if you don’t hear from me for a while, send help. Just don’t tell Tobias.”

  She bites her lip. “You sure about this?”

  “Not really,” I admit. “But I just… I just have to do this.”

  “Call me if you get into any trouble,” she says. “If you need something more immediate, call Lillian. I’ll let her know you’re in the area.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her again.

  A few minutes later, we reach the grocery store and Amy passes the car keys off to me. “Remember,” she says, pointing her finger at me. “Don’t crash him.”

  “I won’t,” I assure her. “See you later.” A rush of butterflies attacks my insides as the rumbling engine purrs with life and the seat vibrates beneath me.

  ***

  As I drive through the streets of East St. Louis, I regret more and more that I came alone. I also probably should not have brought Amy’s pristine sports car with me, as I’m certain I made a target for myself for that alone. I catch multiple locals eying the vehicle at stop lights, but I try to ignore the fear raging throughout my body and focus on the task at hand.

  I came here to find Rick and beg him to drop his bet with Tobias. It’s a long shot, but I still feel like, even after everything that’s happened, that he and I still share a connection. If I can find a way to appeal to that sense, to that feeling of affection he still has for me, maybe I can get him to change his mind… and let me be happy… with his cousin.

  I said it was a long shot.

  I find the gym — a decrepit hole-in-the-wall place called The Bulging Bicep — and park near the front of the lot. A quick look around tells me there’s more abandoned buildings than operational ones and I wonder how a place like this manages to stay in business.

  The inside is far nicer and well-kept than the outside with new equipment lining the walls and forty-inch television sets hanging from every corner, each one displaying a different sporting event from around the globe. The first pair of eyes fall on me, his nose curling out of shape as he looks me up and down, no doubt curious as to what the hell a girl like me is even doing here. I take a deep breath and take a play from Amy’s hand. I square my shoulders and look forward, ignoring their gazes as I walk deeper into the lion’s den.

  I find the boxing ring in the back, following the shouting voices and laughter. It’s surrounded by men, almost two dozen of them that paused their workouts to watch the intense boxing match in progress. I look up and feel no surprise to see Rick sparing bare-handed with another fighter. His eyes are forward, dark and determined, as the other fighter darts forward with a flurry of jabs. He dodges them easily, beads of sweat falling off his pecks to the ground, as he swiftly slides down and sweeps the man’s legs out from under him.

  The other man falls and his head slams to the mat, much to the approval of the shouting bystanders. Rick waits for him to climb to his knees before striking him again with a snappy kick to the jaw. The crowd winces as a stream of blood falls from a broken tooth. Rick draws back his fist, preparing to strike the man again. I step forward, pushing through the curtain of moist shoulders.

  “Rick!” I shout his name and somehow, it carries to his ears over the fierce voices of all the others.

  He pauses and turns to look at me from the ring. A smile tugs at his lips. “Hey, Claire…” He wipes a drip of sweat off his brow before it invades his eyes.

  “I need to talk to you,” I say.

  All eyes fall to me. I hold onto my confident body language like my life depended on it, ignoring the nervous chill creepy up my spine as I find myself the center of attention.

  A large man with glistening tan skin strides up to me, his eyes tingling with satisfaction as he towers above my petite height. “The Alpha is busy, lady,” he snips, looking me up and down before scoffing loudly. “Why don’t you turn that tight, white ass around and get the fuck out—”

  “John!” Rick shouts at him. “She’s a Dame. Show some respect.”

  I can’t hide the surprise from my cheeks, but I catch my jaw from sagging longer than a second. I look up at Rick and he nods back at me.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” John says. He loosens his tense pose and takes a long step back. “I didn’t realize.” He lingers on me, expecting a reply of forgiveness, but I say nothing and stare him down until he walks further away from me.

  Rick’s eyes show great amusement as he climbs down off the ring to meet me. He looks over my shoulder and his blue eyes scan the gym as the testosterone army around us disperses. “Where’s your escort?” he asks.

  “He’s not here,” I say. “I came alone.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” He pushes his moist black hair off his forehead and grins.

  “I just came to talk, Rick,” I say with steady voice.

  He nods. “Yeah, I can tell. You’ve got your no-bullshit face on.”

  I smile, though not voluntarily. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

  “Sure,” he says. “Follow me.”

  He leads me into the back of the gym and down a thick-aired hallway until we reach the doors to the locker rooms. Rick pushes open the door to the ladies’ room and gestures me inside.

  “Don’t get a lot of women in here?” I ask. My voice echoes off the walls, hitting nothing but the pink-colored lockers and good-as-new benches bolted to the floor.

  “We do not,” he chuckles.

  “Not surprised,” I say. I cross my arms and stare at him in the fluorescent lighting. It reveals the sharp angles of his face and I suddenly remember why I was so infatuated with him back then. He looks straight out of 1940’s detective story, complete with thin cheeks and a strong jaw. Definitely a swooner.

  “So, what’s on your mind, Claire?” he asks. He leans back against the pink lockers behind him and waits for my answer.

  I spent the drive up here debating what to say and how to say it. There’s the flirtatious way, or the harsh way, or even the emotionally manipulative way. I clear my throat and quickly decide that the professional way is probably the best option. “Rick, I drove up here to ask you politely, in person, to please call this off.”

  “Call what off?” he asks.

  “You know what — the side bet you have with Tobias.”

  He takes a deep breath to draw out his response. “No.”

  “Please, Rick.”

  “I can’t, Claire.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I wa
nt you back.”

  I shake my head. “Even if you win, I’m not just going to magically fall into your arms, Rick.”

  “I know that.”

  I sigh. “Then why bother with this? Just call it off.”

  “Honestly, I threw it out there as a joke,” he says.

  “A joke?”

  “Yeah,” he nods. “I never thought he’d agree to it, but when he did, I knew I definitely had to do everything I could to get you away from him.”

  I blink. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “He’s dangerous,” he says.

  “Funny, I thought the same thing about you while you were beating him in front of two hundred people, Rick.”

  “I didn’t know he was going to challenge me like that,” he says. “I didn’t even know blood duels were a thing until Lillian told me that he challenged me.”

  “So, you thought you’d take the opportunity to try and break as many of his ribs as possible?”

  “He would have done the same to me and you know it. He jumped at the chance to use you as a bargaining chip,” he argues. “Tobias doesn’t respect you, Claire.”

  A laugh attacks my throat. “And what? You do?”

  “I deserve that,” he says. “I haven’t exactly been kind to you and I’m sorry.”

  I stand still, frozen in the stiff and warm atmosphere of the locker room. “What the hell did you just say to me?” I mutter with icy breath.

  He pushes off the lockers to stand up taller. “I know there’s nothing I can say to encourage any form of forgiveness out of you—”

  “Don’t you dare, Rick—”

  “But I want you to know that I am sorry. For everything.”

  “You’re… sorry?” I parrot back. I can feel the tears invading my eyes, but the anger in me keeps them from touching air.

  “You can hate me as much as you want, and hell, I flat out encourage it, but Claire…” He takes a single step closer to me. “Tobias is bad for you.”

  “Tobias protects me.”

  “He controls you.”