Broken: An Alpha Bad Boy MMA Romance

by Scarlet MMA, Simone

  The old man looked up at Silas, and sneered.

  “I heard you were in a wheelchair,” he growled.

  “I’m out now,” Silas sneered back. He threw a mocking gaze at Bruno. “Your son probably told you about it.”

  “You knocked my tooth out, cabrón,” Bruno sneered, cowering a little as Silas turned to look at him. “I ought to kill you.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” Silas growled – and then his sneer turned to a mocking smile. “But you’re probably too chickenshit. That’s why you didn’t call your uncle Hector, Inspector Jefe. You were too ashamed that I knocked you on your ass.”

  Bruno’s eyes narrowed hatefully when he heard that.

  “What do you want, Batras?” Adolphe had no time for their bickering. “Why are you disturbing my coffee?”

  Silas turned and glowered at the steely-eyed old man.

  “I’m here to tell you that I’m back,” he growled. “And to show you that I’m on my feet again.”

  He leered forward, face just inches from Adolphe’s.

  “I’m here to warn you not to try anything like you did with Celestina, or to make any more uninvited appearances at Bodegas Batras.”

  He cracked his knuckles menacingly.

  “Because if you do? Next time it won’t be just a tooth your son will end up missing.”

  “Why, you…” Bruno sneered, but Adolphe silenced him with a wave of his hand.

  The old man looked up, into Silas’ menacing brown eyes.

  He snorted disdainfully.

  “I’ll get my hands on Bodegas Batras one way or another,” he hissed. “But I won’t give you the satisfaction of humiliating my boy again.” He licked his cracked and dry lips. “You and your family won’t be having any more problems with him, entendido?”

  Silas nodded.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  He straightened up, and smiled menacingly.

  Reaching down, Silas scooped up one of the tiny espresso cups that Adolphe and Bruno were drinking from.

  Looking both the Buenaventuras in the eye, he drained the coffee, and smacked his lips indulgently.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” Silas grinned, returning the empty demi tasse to the table. “I trust I won’t be seeing you around.”

  And then, turning on his heel, the towering fighter swaggered out of the bistro.

  Celestina and Lyssa scurried along behind him.

  Eyes narrowed hatefully, Adolphe Buenaventuras and his son watched them go.

  “That bastardo,” Adolphe sneered, once he was sure they were out of earshot. “I’ll put him back in his wheelchair yet.”

  Chapter Sixty One

  Silas

  “Check out the cajones on my little brother!”

  Beer sploshed over the side of Alberte’s tankard, as he raised a toast to his little brother.

  “I’m proud of you, hermanito,” he grinned. “Bruno Buenaventura won’t come within a mile of this place without pissing his pants from now on.”

  The Batras family were gathered around the dining table, feasting like it was Christmas.

  It wasn’t, of course – but the fact that Silas was sitting at the table, instead of slumped dejectedly in his wheelchair, was cause enough for celebration.

  “I can’t believe you, Silas,” Celestina slurped her wine, eyes still wide from the experience that morning. “You just walked in there like you were John Wayne, or something.” She shuddered. “You’re an idiota, is what you are.”

  “No,” Silas grinned, raising his own glass of Gran Reserva. “I’m a fighter. And I was just fighting for what’s important to me. Mi familia.”

  The mention of the word ‘fighter’ cast a sudden silence over the dinner table.

  Suddenly subdued, Alberte looked over at his brother and asked: “So, fighter. Now you are back on your feet – are you going to go back to fighting? To America?”

  Silas looked across the table at him. For a moment, the handsome MMA fighter was silent. Then he smiled, and shook his head.

  “I’m done, hermano,” he admitted sadly. “I got my culo beat twice now. There’s no place for me any more in mixed martial arts.” He took a ragged breath. “My place is here now, with you.”

  And them, turning to Lyssa, Silas reached across the table and squeezed her slender hand.

  “Besides. I bought the best thing in America back home with me.” He smiled at Lyssa. “With you here, what is there to go back to?”

  Lyssa’s cheeks burned at the compliment, but she didn’t say anything. She just sat there, staring into Silas’ deep, dark eyes, and wished that moment would never end.

  Chapter Sixty Two

  Lyssa

  But all moments do end – and a couple of hours later, dinner was nothing but a delicious memory.

  Celestina hustled César and Chucho off to bed, and Alberte swaggered outside to lock up. That just left Silas and Lyssa to clear the plates, and finish their wine in the big, warm kitchen.

  “So,” Lyssa said sadly, “what you said was sweet, and all. But I have to fly back to America on Saturday.” She sniffed sadly. “I can’t believe my visit’s over so quickly.”

  Silas dumped the plates he was carrying into the sink, and turned to Lyssa.

  He grabbed her arms in his huge hands, and pulled her close.

  “Well, we best make use of what time we have left,” the towering Spaniard growled, as he pressed his lips hard against hers.

  Lyssa nearly swooned as Silas literally swept her up in his arms – lifting her onto her tip-toes as if she weighed nothing.

  His lips tasted of red wine, and his powerful scent filled her nostrils.

  She instantly flooded her panties.

  “L-let’s take this upstairs,” Lyssa panted, tearing her mouth from his. “The dishes can wait.”

  “No,” Silas growled. “The kids are still awake…”

  “Then where?”

  Silas smiled wickedly.

  Letting Lyssa back down onto the ground, he grabbed her hand and yanked her towards the front door.

  Chapter Sixty Three

  Lyssa

  With a click, the bare bulb hanging from the rafters blinked into life.

  Silas’ makeshift gym was bathed in flickering, yellow light.

  “It’s hardly the Ritz Carlton,” he admitted, tossing the clean blankets he’d grabbed on the way out onto the faded, dirty gym mats, “but it’s private.”

  Lyssa was following him into the old barrel room, already pulling her shirt up over her head.

  “I lost my virginity in the back of a Chevrolet Camaro,” the pretty American admitted, kicking off her boots. “Believe me, this is not the least romantic spot I’ve got naked in.”

  And naked was Lyssa’s destination – Silas was making sure of that.

  The moment he’d laid out the blankets on the ground, the towering Spaniard turned to Lyssa, and swept her up in his massive, burly arms.

  He kissed her furiously, and fumbled with her bra at the same time.

  “This is crazy,” Lyssa murmured, as she pulled her lips away from his. “I-I’m going back to America in a couple of days.”

  “Well,” Silas purred, releasing her full breasts, and tossing her bra aside, “I guess that means we have to work fast.”

  “B-but what is this?” Lyssa gasped. “I mean, this thing we have between us?”

  Silas grabbed one of Lyssa’s slender wrists, and pressed it between his legs.

  Through the starchy cotton of his pants, she felt his thick, hard cock throbbing in anticipation.

  “That’s the thing we have between us,” Silas purred. “Now stop talking and kiss me.”

  And with a moan, she and Silas tumbled onto the blankets.

  Chapter Sixty Four

  Lyssa

  Lyssa giggled, as Silas wrenched down her yoga pants – pulling her panties down with them.

  She flopped onto the blankets – absolutely naked.

  “Sapristi,” Silas
breathed, looming over her, as he pulled off his t-shirt. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “You really think so?” Lyssa wasn’t so sure.

  Her body was a lot less tight in her thirties than it had been in her twenties – and that was when she’d got the majority of her rockabilly tattoos.

  Her body was like a canvas – but it painted a very different picture to the woman she’d grown to become.

  Silas wrenched open the front of his pants, and kicked them off.

  A moment later, as tan and massive as a Spanish bull, he flopped down onto the blankets next to her and crushed Lyssa’s willing body beneath him.

  “God, this is crazy,” Lyssa moaned, as Silas kissed her throat, and reached up to squeeze one of her breasts with his huge, calloused hand. “I’m naked, in a wine cellar…”

  Goosebumps peppered her tan skin – but she was anything but cold.

  “I just had to have you,” Silas moaned hotly in Lyssa’s ear. “God, I want you so much.”

  And then he rolled on top of her – kicking Lyssa’s thighs apart with his knee.

  Perhaps if this had been the Ritz Carlton, Lyssa would have expected foreplay – insistent kisses, and nuzzling, and lips and tongues between their legs.

  But here? On this rough blanket, beneath the flickering light of a bare bulb?

  She just wanted to feel him inside her.

  Lyssa groaned, and spread her legs – lying back as Silas reached between them to maneuver his raging hard-on between her legs.

  “Unnngh,” Lyssa’s eyes rolled upwards, as she felt the head of his cock nuzzle between the lips of her eager pussy. “Fuuuuck.”

  And then he thrust himself inside of her.

  “Oh, God,” Silas moaned hotly in Lyssa’s ear, as he sunk inch-after-inch inside of her. “God, you feel so good.”

  And Lyssa just moaned, as she was stretched and filled deliciously.

  It was intense. She felt like she was being skewered by an unrelentingly hard length of timber; and she loved every inch of it.

  Eventually, Silas bottomed out inside of her – and Lyssa felt his hips grinding against her clitoris.

  She looked up, and found his intense brown eyes staring back at her.

  “Cariño,” Silas purred, stroking her hair from her eye. He began to thrust. “You are so amazing.”

  “Huuungh,” was all Lyssa could say, as she stretched her arms up to curl them around Silas’ massive shoulders.

  Crushed to the ground, she felt his huge cock move inexorably in and out of her, rubbing her in all the right places. The feel of his hard, heavy body on top of hers was electric, and every inch of her tingled with pleasure.

  Within seconds, she was panting, as an orgasm approached. She’d never climaxed so quickly before; but she had the feeling it was just the first of many.

  “Oh, God,” Lyssa’s teeth sunk into Silas’ massive shoulders. “I’m cumming… I’m cumming…”

  And then she exploded beneath him, her pussy gushing as a tsunami of pleasure washed over her.

  Silas hauled himself up onto his arms, and looked down as Lyssa writhed beneath him. He continued to thrust inside her, grinding his hips against hers, and the big Spaniard smiled in satisfaction as another orgasm followed Lyssa’s first.

  Soon she was a panting, gasping mess beneath him; and the scent of her body and the feel of her skin was too much for him to stand.

  Silas grabbed a fistful of Lyssa’s hair, and wrenched her head back. She gasped as he tugged her hair; deliciously helpless beneath him.

  “I fucking adore you,” Silas growled, and kissed her hard on her gasping mouth.

  As their lips touched and their tongues entwined, the big fighter thrust himself to the hilt inside Lyssa, and his cock swelled, and throbbed, and exploded wetly inside of her.

  Lyssa came a third and final time as she felt herself flooded.

  Pleasure washed over them both, and then Lyssa groaned in satisfaction as her spent lover collapsed across her.

  Chapter Sixty Five

  Lyssa

  With a groan, Silas peeled his sticky body from Lyssa’s, and flopped onto the blanket beside her.

  Lyssa moaned in disappointment, as she felt his thick cock slither out of her, and his crushing bulk lift from her slender body.

  Lying side by side, Silas reached out and squeezed Lyssa’s hand.

  “That was wild,” he panted.

  “Yes,” Lyssa squeezed his hand. “And you just wait until we do it again.”

  And the way her pussy trembled, she knew they would be doing it again. The only question was whether it would be here, on the floor of this wine cellar, or in the comparative luxury of a real bed.

  But at the same time as she accepted that inevitability, it highlighted another.

  “So… You fly back home on Saturday,” it was like Silas was reading her mind.

  Lyssa rolled onto her side, and looked across the blanket towards her handsome lover.

  “Yeah.” She reached over and laid a hand on his broad, bare chest. “Yeah, I do.”

  Silas rolled over as well, to stare at her with his intense brown eyes.

  “I don’t want you to go,” he admitted.

  Lyssa laughed dryly.

  “I don’t want to go myself,” she admitted.

  “So, don’t,” Silas suggested. “Stay here. With me.”

  Lyssa snorted.

  For a moment she considered it. Staying here, with this gorgeous man and his beautiful family, in the midst of the stunning scenery of La Rioja.

  But then she thought about her apartment, and her job. Her editor, waiting for her to return with a story. Of her friends, and her own family – even though she barely spoke to them.

  The bright lights of New York City, and the memory of Travis and Nikolai.

  “I… I wish I could.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Well, why can’t you?” Silas demanded. He crawled over to her, and crushed Lyssa back to the blanket – kissing her fiercely.

  For a moment, she kissed him back – losing herself in the intensity of his embrace. But as their lips parted, she found herself repeating: “I can’t.”

  Silas was silent.

  He stared at her with those big, soulful brown eyes of his, and Lyssa was almost shameful of how intensely it made her feel.

  Eventually, he broke the silence.

  “Well, if you won’t stay,” Silas murmured, “let’s make the most of what time we still have together.”

  And then he leaned over her, and kissed her fiercely once again.

  As his lips bruised hers, Lyssa squeezed shut her eyes and drowned out everything else – thoughts of her job, and her friends.

  She just absorbed the intensity of that moment; and wished it didn’t have to end.

  But she knew it had to. Eventually

  Chapter Sixty Six

  Silas

  “So, I guess we should do that interview, or something.”

  It was Friday afternoon when Silas suggested that, and he and Lyssa were lounging in the big, wooden bed in her room.

  Naked, sticky and still out-of-breath, they’d just finished what must have been the fourth marathon sex session of the past 24 hours.

  “I suppose so,” Lyssa nodded, rolling over in the bed to rest her head on Silas’ massive chest. “That way, at least, we’ll look respectable when Alberte and Celestina get back from the supermercado.”

  “Not if we conduct it in bed, we won’t.”

  Lyssa laughed at Silas joke, and reluctantly sat up.

  Her whole body ached delicious. Cum dribbled down her thighs, and big, red handprints were all over her tattooed body.

  She could get used to this. It’s a pity she wouldn’t have the chance to.

  “Let me get my notepad,” she told Silas, as she slipped, barefoot, onto the wooden floorboards. They creaked as she crossed the room to her bag. “I promised my editor I’d been working on this all week. I feel like a schoolgirl, cramming her h
omework at the last minute.”

  Silas flopped back in bed, and watched as Lyssa crossed the room. With her tanned, toned body and extensive tattoos, she looked magnificent when she was naked. There was something panther-like about her; and that was doubly true when they were fucking.

  Pad and pen in hand, Lyssa returned to the bed, and slipped under the covers with a smile.

  “You know what?” She admitted. “I’d been dreading writing this story. The tale of a paralysed fighter, sent home in disgrace.” She looked across the bed at Silas, who’d been getting stronger and more mobile with every passing day. “At least this way the story has a happy ending.”

  “Does it?” Silas shrugged. He was smiling, but there was sadness in his big, brown eyes. “Tomorrow you fly back to America, taking with you my heart, and the last vestiges of my MMA career.”

  “Your heart?” Lyssa laughed self-consciously. “Really?”

  Silas’ cheeks burned red, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

  Lyssa knew he wanted her to drop it; but with a typical reporter’s tenacity, she prompted him: “What did you mean by that?”

  Silas narrowed his eyes.

  “What did you think I meant?”

  “I don’t know,” Lyssa prodded him under the covers with her bare foot. “I mean, what is this?”

  This, it was clear, implied the tumbled, sweaty passion of the last few days.

  Silas just shrugged.

  “Are we dating?” Lyssa prompted. “Or just fucking?” Even she knew she shouldn’t ask the next question, but she did anyway. “What happens when I fly back home tomorrow?”

  “I… I don’t know,” Silas murmured. For the first time since she’d known him, he wasn’t making eye contact with her.

  After the frank questions, it was ironic that Lyssa suddenly got cagey – but a chill gripped her heart as she considered the implications of what she wanted to ask next.

  Was what they had meaningful?

  Lyssa had never been much of one for long distance relationships. She’d tried it with her high school boyfriend when they’d each left for college – but wound up having a beer-fueled one night stand before she’d even unpacked her book bags.