Brawler's Baby: An MMA Mob Romance (Mob City Book 1)

by Holly Hart

  I arch my back with the unexpected pleasure, and moan delicately under my breath.

  "Did you like that?" He growls in his patented voice of desire, and I nod desperately in assent. He dives back down, his stubbled chin grazing the soft, delicate skin underneath my breasts, his mouth attacking my right nipple with reckless abandon. I'm wet, soaking wet, and the heat between my legs is building to a crescendo. I need him inside me, but the assorted sensations of his hands roaming around my body, the electric feeling of desire between my legs and the sparks pouring from my nipples as his mouth works on them all combines to make it hard, almost impossible for me to concentrate.

  I fight the desire to clench my thighs together, to squeeze them until the building heat between my legs reaches a climax, and instead spread them, inviting him in.

  He doesn't need a second invitation.

  He pulls my scrubs off, I notice with astonishment that my sneakers aren't on my feet any more. I have no recollection of when they came off, but I don't have even a second to consider when they came off, because suddenly naked, and he's on top of me, his hard cock pressing into my thigh.

  I grab it, gently stroking it with my right hand, and he gasps into my ear like I've stolen his breath.

  I lean towards him, and whisper into his ear, as if finally granting him permission, "come on."

  He looks at me, and in one swift movement plunges his cock between my thighs, my hand guiding in the whole way. The slit between my legs is slick with desire, and he slides in effortlessly, gliding in as the muscles of his ass contract, and he plunges his cock into me as far as it'll go. My entire body shudders as the huge, thick cock stretches me from inside out, almost seeming to press against the firm wall of my stomach as he thrusts it inside me.

  I sigh with pleasure, feeling complete, and my hands grip his lower back, as though I'm worried he's going somewhere.

  He's not. He nibbles my ear, and then hoists his considerable, muscular weight up, so he supported by his arms and shoulders, which are popping and rippling in front of my eyes, the muscle underneath the skin straining delightfully, to my eyes. He starts thrusting, slowly at first, in long strokes, and I'm already so turned on that there's nothing I can do except enjoy them.

  My eyes roll back into their sockets, eyelids closed, and I can see little stars, little white speckles of light moving across the darkness of my vision, shuddering and jittering every time Mike's powerful, thick cock crashes back into me.

  I lean up, moaning, to kiss him on his chest, and taste the salty sheen of sweat covering his skin as a droplet of liquid falls onto my tongue and spreads out. My movement changes the angle, and his cock is suddenly thrusting directly against my most sensitive spot.

  I moan once again, the sound startling against the backdrop of two individuals frantically panting and exertion, my breath ragged and jerking, changing every time he thrusts his cock inside me, catching every time he fills me up, and releasing in a disappointed groan every time he backs out; his smooth, controlled and deep – in time with his strokes.

  I open my eyes, see his closed, see him grimacing with pleasure, his jaw locked, and flickers of movement crossing his face unbidden every time he thrusts into me. I can't be sure, but I get the sense that he's not going to last much longer, and truth be told – nor am I. I squeeze my thighs together, compressing the flesh, and squeezing the heat between my legs into a smaller, more confined space. I gasp, heady with delight as I reach my climax.

  He starts speeding up, close to his, and his breath is ragged now too, and he's crashing into me with unbelievable force, the hard flesh of his cock grinding against my mound every time, and I close my eyes again, and this time the stars meld into one, so it's just one unending sphere of white light.

  He thrusts into me one last time, and his entire body goes rigid, every muscle suddenly completely tense, and then, finally, he collapses onto me, spent. The after-shocks are crashing through my body, what seems like endless streams and sparks of electricity still dancing around the hot, engorged thickness of his cock between my legs.

  I feel his breath tickling my chest, his skin touching mine, and sense his heart beating beneath his ribs.

  I thread my hand in between his soft, curly hair, and this time it's my turn to pull him in for a kiss.

  "Holy shit." I say, since it's only thing that comes to mind. He opens his eyes, looking at me, and I can tell he agrees.

  10

  Mike

  I lie next to Katie, my hand idly tracing a path down the side of her torso. It's not sexual, at least – not intentionally so, but nevertheless I love seeing the little shivers and reactions in my lover's body as I tickle her soft, sensitive skin. I grasp a breast, fingers marking the slight crease where the delectable mounds meet her chest, and she sighs with pleasure.

  "I've never felt this way about any other girl," I say – surprising myself with the honesty of my words.

  "Oh, shut up," Katie says with an embarrassed grin on her face, and half slaps away my wandering hands. Not hard enough to dissuade me, though…

  "No – I'm serious," I protest, "I'm not messing with you. I don't know how many other women would be okay with, well, this –," I indicate my scarred body. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you to see me lying, half dead, in that helicopter. I owe you my life."

  Katie opens her eyes and looks at me, gazing directly into my pupils. "I would have done that for anyone…" she says, with a fiendish grin on her face.

  "Yeah, but you didn't just do it for anyone, did you – you did it for me. And even if you don't want to congratulate yourself, you've got to let me thank you. Well, you can't stop me, at any rate."

  I grab one of her ample breasts in my right hand and tweak her nipple cheekily, aiming to drive home the point, and only succeeding in stiffening hers… The thought suddenly strikes me that Katie's breasts seem somehow larger than they were the last time I ended up in bed with her – as though they've somehow grown in the meantime. I don't really think about it, presuming that maybe she's not being doing as much running recently, now she's spending more time with me.

  I leave my left hand cradling her left breast, and allow my right to continue on its meandering journey down her naked body, only moving my fingers across her skin slowly – perhaps even tortuously slowly.

  I can sense something's different, now that my eyes have been opened, I don't know how I could have missed it – Katie's positively glowing, she's radiant.

  My breath quickens, and I allow my hand to abandon its slow passage down Katie's body, deciding instead to go with a quicker route – straight down. I need to confirm whether my suspicions are, in fact, correct. But first, I need to find out if I'm the only one Katie's been with, or whether there have been others. I don't believe that a girl like Katie would sleep around, and I'm hesitant to ask, but I've got a right to know – if my suspicions are correct, that is.

  "Katie…" I venture.

  "Yes?" she asks, gradually opening one eye as though she's about to drop off to sleep, "what is it?"

  "You can slap me any time you want, but can I ask you something?"

  "Anything – you know that," she says.

  I feel like what I'm about to ask is so potentially relationship damaging, and quite frankly – so rude – that I need to warn her about it. If it was any other girl, I wouldn't bother – I've slept through dozens back home at Fort Bragg, but Katie's different. She's special, she's smart – and she deserves to know.

  "I'm serious about you slapping me," I say, "I need to ask you something, something serious – and I'm pretty sure you're not going to like it…"

  "Well," she says, propping herself up on her elbows and staring at me as though I'm a blundering idiot for asking her these weird questions, "spit it out – the question isn't going to ask itself, is it?"

  "I guess not," I say, a red flush of embarrassment suffusing my face. "I need to know something – were you, you know," I pause – completely unable to get the wo
rds out. I don't know how something so small as asking a question can be so difficult, when charging into battle is so easy… "with anyone while I was out in the field? I wouldn't blame you if you were, or anything – I just want to know.“

  Katie studies my face seriously for a few seconds, and the longer she stays silent, the longer I think that she is about to kick me out of her room. I begin to think that I've seriously screwed up. And, honestly – I wouldn't blame her. What I'm asking is unforgivably rude, after all.

  "No," she finally says.

  No!

  "Really?" I ask, elated, my face suddenly filling with a broad smile. "That's incredible!"

  Katie raises an eyebrow and stares at me, a haughty look on her face. "Are you saying you think I'm the kind of girl who sleeps around?"

  Oh shit, I've really gone and put my foot in it this time… Still – that's the best news I've ever heard!

  "No, no," I say – raising my hand and babbling in my attempts to mollify my beautiful lover, "that's not what I think at all. It's just…"

  "It's just…" she repeats, mimicking me and arching her eyebrow ever higher. "You better get explaining yourself soon, Mike, or we're going to have a problem…"

  She hasn't got up and bolted yet, but I feel at this rate it's only a matter of time. Still, my hand's still resting between her chest and her tummy, and I decide to use it to test my suspicion, dragging downwards and feeling the gentle rise in her tummy. It's almost imperceptible, and I think that the only reason I've even noticed it is due to my training with Delta Force. They've always trained us to pay attention to the smallest of details, and this is definitely one of those.

  "Have you noticed any… changes recently?" I ask.

  "Changes?" Katie asks, now just looking confused. "Stop talking in riddles, Mike – just be straight with me."

  "Okay, I will." I say, pausing. I feel a massive surge of pride swelling up inside me, something I never guessed I'd feel in a moment like this, and a second a little frog in my throat stops me from telling her the good news.

  "Katie… I think you're pregnant."

  11

  Katie

  "Pregnant?" I say, my hand racing to my stomach, "you can't be serious? What makes you think that? Why?"

  The questions rush of my time faster than my brain can come up with new ones, and before long I realize that I'm babbling.

  "Feel your breasts," Mike says, gently squeezing my left, "they're definitely heavier than they were last time I bedded you, and you've got a glow about you – have done for at least two weeks now. I don't know how I didn't notice it until just now, I think I was blinded by my attraction for you. But I'm sure, Katie – I'm sure you're pregnant."

  What the hell do you know about pregnancy, I want to scream, but resist, trying to figure things out on my own brain before I descend into a gibbering wreck.

  "Its just the pizza," I say plaintively, "I've been eating too much – that's all."

  "You could never eat too much pizza to make me not attracted to you," Mike grins, "and besides – does pizza give you a radiant glow? I thought just gave people acne. Hell, you're the nurse – if pizza makes people look this good, then let's go back to the states and start selling it as a health supplement!"

  I open my mouth to spit back a sharp, biting retort, but closer after a few seconds as the logic of Mike's words begins to hit home, leaving me looking like a goldfish for a short period of time.

  I have been hungrier than normal. And the nausea – I'm such an idiot, it can't be morning sickness, can it? What the hell kind of nurse misses their own pregnancy?

  I focus my eyes on my naked body, desperate to get to the bottom of things one way or another. I bring my hands up to my breasts, cupping each one gently. He's right, I think, they are bigger than normal. But that could just be too much pizza, couldn't it?

  "Katie – you okay?" Mike asks, concern in his voice. It sounds so sweet, so genuine that my heart can't help but melt, no matter the emotional turmoil causing through me as I try and come to terms with the storm he's just unleashed.

  "Okay?" I croak, "you're asking me if I'm okay, after telling me that I'm pregnant!"

  "It's a good thing, isn't it?" he asks, looking slightly uncertain, "I thought you'd be happy?"

  "Happy?" I half say, half laugh back in surprise, "I haven't planned a baby – hell, I don't even really know I'm pregnant or not. What makes you think that I want to bring up a child right now. Hell, I'm living in a war zone!"

  "Yeah…" Mike drawls, his momentary lapse into indecision almost immediately disappearing, and subsumed by his overpowering, alluring self-confidence, "but it's my baby, and you wouldn't be doing alone…"

  The meaning behind his words doesn't hit home until a couple of seconds later. "You'd… You'd raise a child with me?" I ask, stunned by the suggestion. Hell, everything that's happened since Mike first mentioned he thought I was pregnant has left me reeling, and this is no different.

  "You think I'd let you do it alone?" he asks, looking almost insulted at the suggestion. "You're the mother of my child, Katie – tell me you aren't – and it's my job to protect you, my job to keep you safe, my job to love you."

  My stomach does a backflip at the word, but I keep my face level, not wanting to crumble once. A child is a big commitment. No – it's a fucking huge commitment, and it's easy for Mike to say that he is interested now, but what about when it's more real…

  "Mike," I say, stumbling over my words because they're difficult to say, "why would you want to be with me?"

  He suddenly fills the room with appeal of laughter and slaps me gently on the shoulder as though I've told the funniest joke he's ever heard.

  "You're kidding me, right?"

  "Um, no…" I say, still bemused by the turn this conversation’s taken.

  "Katie – do you think you have to prove yourself to me, or something?" he asks, a barely disguised look of mirth on his face.

  "Kinda…" I say, trailing off as I realise how much merriment this is causing him.

  "You're mad! Katie, you saved my life. You nursed me back to health. You rescued my dog,you've been the best sex of my life, and now you're bearing my child – I couldn't be happier if I tried. Hell, if this is you not proving yourself, then I'd love to see what you could do if you tried!"

  When he puts it like that, I can kind of see what he's getting at.

  "Mike," I say, "think about it – what kind of life do you think you're going to be able to give this kid if you're always jumping from deployment to deployment? Do you think I could stay with you when I don't know from week to week whether you will even be alive. What kind of life is that for our child?"

  Our child…

  Mike goes silent for a second. "I'll leave," he says simply.

  "Leave, what you mean – leave?" I say.

  "I mean it – I'll leave the army for you, Katie. I've done my time, hell – apparently I'm a goddamn American hero these days, if I ask my colonel to speed the papers through, he'll do it in a flash."

  I can tell, just by looking at him, that he is serious. I have no doubt that if he was on a mission, he'd be harder to read than a professional poker player, but he doesn't hide anything from me – he's just an open book. And I can tell he's serious, truly serious, about settling down and raising a child with me.

  "If you want to keep it, that is…" he finishes uncertainly.

  I fix him with an immediate, serious, motherly stare, suddenly feeling maternal instincts that I'd never known existed. "Oh, if you think that I'm doing anything other than raising this child –."

  I stop as soon as I notice that his face is filling with a smile. "Thank God!"

  "So you're serious about raising a child with me?" I ask, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it regardless. "You'll leave the army, come settle down with me – white picket fence, all of that. You won't be bored?"

  He grabs my hand with his left and squeezes it tightly, as though he's marking his territory. With his ri
ght, he sneaks it down my body and brushes my wet slit.

  "Trust me, Katie – when you're around," he grins, "I'm never bored."

  12

  Katie

  Fireworks?

  I groan quietly as my body stirs from its slumber. Judging from a quick glance around the room with eyes that are still heavily lidded with sleep, it's still dark out. Except that the fireworks are, intermittently, giving off flashes of a brilliant golden light.

  But fireworks?

  Out here in the desert, fireworks aren't exactly the kind of thing I've come to expect people to be loosing into the sky. After all, on a heavily armed military base, people are far more likely to mistake them for bombs.

  Bombs.

  I slap my forehead. How can I be such an idiot sometimes? Of course the fizzing thumps and crackling pops that I can hear all around me aren't fireworks, they're explosives. And if someone's setting off explosives in what's supposed to be the most secure part of the country for hundreds of miles around me, then I'm as sure as I've ever been that this isn't a place I want to be hanging around. Especially not now that I know I’ve got another life inside of me. Mike’s child…

  I need to get to the shelter, but first I know I've got to get Sophie. Suddenly, all around I hear the wailing moans of sirens beginning to cry melancholically into the moonlit sky. The noise confirms what I already suspect – I really do need to get to safety.

  I roll out of bed, landing with an unpleasant thump on my side, and gasp in pain as the impact forces all the air out of my lungs. I'm not thinking straight, but at least my instincts are on point – the floor seems like the safest place to be right now. My hand jumps to my belly immediately, with a belated reaction that I need to be more careful now I’m expecting. Still, if I don’t make it through the night, our child won’t have a chance anyway.