Don’t You Dare: A Bad Boy MMA Fighter Romance

by Claire St. Rose

  The two men had disappeared from sight, over the fence into the pasture. Onto her property. I should call the police, she thought. They know I'm a woman living out here alone. They'll send someone right away. With trembling fingers she dug her phone out of her hip pocket and dialed 9-1-1 with her thumb. She tapped the speaker-phone button and held her breath.

  "Arroyo Flats police, non-emergency, how can I help you?" a bored-sounding female voice droned on the other end.

  "Yes, um--"

  A cloud of dust appeared at the far end of the road, and she nearly collapsed with relief as she recognized the blue Suburban. "Never mind," she murmured, and hung up. Mr. Miller. She prayed that he wasn't in too much of a hurry. She shoved the gun into the glove compartment and flagged him down just as the two men appeared back over the fence and hopped into the car. Mr. Miller had almost reached her when the Camaro roared away, spraying pebbles and kicking up dirt as it went. Her neighbor pulled up next to her and rolled down his window.

  "Saw those fellas out here last week," he drawled, his bushy eyebrows knitting together under the brim of his hat. "Said they was lookin' at a ranch for sale. I told 'em, y'all got the wrong ranch. That one ain't for sale. You know them?"

  Ali shook her head. "I don't. But they just went into my pasture."

  Mr. Miller tipped his hat back, scratched his neck, and looked at her for a moment. "You're sure they're not with that fella comes here on the motorcycle?"

  Damn neighbors don't miss a thing. "No, Sir. They're no friends of his. Mine neither. I was just about to call the police. I guess I'll do just that if they come around again."

  "Or shoot 'em," he said with a wink.

  "Right." She couldn't help her relieved grin. The adrenaline rush of fear had left her wobbly in its wake. "I reckon I could do that, too. Well, see you around, Mr. Miller. Now that all the excitement's over I'm gonna go open my mail."

  Mr. Miller touched the brim of his hat and drove along to his driveway. Ali turned back into hers and was almost to the house when she stopped in her tracks, went back to her truck, and retrieved the gun. I'll just keep this on me for now, she thought. Just in case that black Camaro comes around here again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  Alejandro barely heard what Slider said about their respective cuts from the last run. It hardly mattered; profits from the resale of stolen ammo were always about the same. It was business as usual in the old warehouse they'd repurposed as their temporary clubhouse, but he couldn't focus.

  His mind was where he'd been last night: in Ali's bed, where everything made sense.

  He'd texted her around nine to say he couldn't sleep, and she invited him over. They were only halfway up the stairs to her bedroom when she stopped him in his tracks by unzipping his jeans.

  It had only gotten better from there.

  She was so passionate, so present with him. When she wrapped herself around him he forgot everything except the silken strands of her hair, the delicate texture of her skin, the sweet cries of pleasure she made when he buried himself deep inside her. Ali was like a drug high, only she never wore off. Every time he touched her, he hit that fantastic first-time peak, and last night had been no exception.

  His balls ached just thinking about it. He had to see her again.

  Glancing at the clock, he itched to pull out his cell phone and violate the strict "no electronics" rule they had for their meetings. The rule had been his idea, though, so he could hardly disregard it now. That would set a shitty example for his brothers.

  He sighed and thought about what it would be like to have Ali as his old lady. If her fellow cheerleaders and sorority sisters could only see that. They wouldn't recognize their pristine princess dressed in leather and riding on the back of a Harley.

  Unbidden, his brain took him on an erotic slideshow of Ali in various poses on a bike, wearing only chaps, and he shifted so Pitbull wouldn't see him sporting wood. Get your shit together. You're like a horny teenager. He was only vaguely aware of the turn in conversation to the Diablos Verdes.

  Pitbull elbowed him, and he realized his brothers were all staring at him expectantly. “The Diablos Verdes,” Pitbull prompted.

  Alejandro cleared his throat. "Right. They want Arroyo Flats, that's obvious from their actions the other week. It's not just about Haji. The bigger plan was to get to us, to see how hard we would push back." He thumped his hand on the table, hard, and made eye contact with each of his brothers in turn. "Now we're pushing back. Too many of us have family here to let the Diablos take over. Those crooked motherfuckers would be poison for this town."

  The other men murmured in agreement.

  "We're going to start making ourselves a bit more visible. Pitbull and I are going to pay Hennesy a visit to figure out the climate around here with respect to the Diablos." He paused. "We've got a lot to accomplish and only a few weeks to get it done." He glanced at Pitbull, raising his eyes as if to say, anything I'm forgetting?

  "The good news," Pitbull said with a smile.

  "Right, the announcement. So, as most of you know, there's someone at this table who's getting patched this week." There were a few appreciative murmurs and whistles, and Benny puffed up a bit with the attention.

  "We're going to celebrate, Padre Knights style. The Maidens have been invited and old ladies are welcome," Alejandro continued. "In fact, if we want to eat, we sure as hell better make sure they're here." A collective chuckle erupted at the table. "Popeye's old lady will be contacting the others to arrange for some covered dishes. I need a couple of you on grill duty. Let's make this induction a special one. We're all grateful to Prospect--I mean, Zig-Zag--for his part in the incident with the Czechs the other week." He smiled down the table at Benny. "Bet you'll be glad for us to stop calling you 'Prospect,' huh?"

  "That's not so bad, I just want my patch." The younger man grinned back at Alejandro.

  "You got it, brother. You earned it." Pitbull and the others who had been on the scene of the handoff a few weeks ago nodded in agreement. If it hadn't been for Benny... But he refused to think about that. Fact was, the prospect had shown up just in time, and Alejandro had found himself at Ali's house that very night. Best nursing I've ever received, he thought, remembering Ali's words that night. Take me, use me, fuck me till I cry...

  "One more thing," he said, clearing his throat as he came back to reality. "I heard from Prez. He's not doing too good. Whatever your higher power, keep old Turk in your prayers. His dialysis is kicking his ass, and I'm not sure when he's going to be back with us."

  The others were solemn. Turk had run the club for years and was well-respected by its members. Years of drug use as a younger man left him with Hepatitis C. Now, only in his late fifties, his kidneys were failing. Alejandro had felt horrible for Turk when he went to visit him in the hospital right before he left San Antonio. "Hurts to ride and my piss looks like whiskey," he'd croaked to Alejandro from his hospital bed.

  "That's why we got rules against doing hard drugs, even though we move it," Pitbull reminded everyone. "That shit fucks you up bad, man." He shook his head.

  "And that's why we're going to run the DVs out of town, finish this assignment, and get back home to make him proud," Alejandro declared. "I know we had that small setback, but we're all in one piece now, even Haji, so time to take care of business and show those motherfuckers who runs Arroyo Flats." He raised his bottle. "To Prez."

  "To Prez!" the others toasted heartily.

  "And to getting the fuck out of here before we all grow old and die," said Slider. "I don't mean no disrespect to you motherfuckers who grew up here, but this town is boring."

  Alejandro feigned offense, but secretly he agreed with Slider. There was only one thing he found exciting about Arroyo Flats, and with any luck she'd be waiting up for him when he got out there. Maybe even wearing that new lingerie she'd mentioned in her text message earlier that day. His cock stirred eagerly as he thought of seeing her... touching her... tasting her... She burned in
his veins like some kind of wasting disease, and he didn't want the cure.

  Alejandro tried to keep himself in check. He limited his visits to the ranch to a few times a week, but he constantly felt like he was about to go off the deep end. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep taking this thing with Ali a day at a time. Not when his entire body throbbed at the slightest thought of her. With a deep sigh he glanced at the clock and inwardly groaned at how many minutes separated him from Ali’s bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Ali sighed and answered the phone. There was no use trying to put it off any longer. "Hey, Sugar," came Bobby's cheerful voice through the line, as if he hadn't been trying to get in touch with her all week. "How you doing?"

  "I'm fine, Bobby, thanks for asking. How are you?"

  "Well, I'm good, but I'd be even better if you agreed to come to the gala with me Saturday night. Do you have other plans, or can I steal you away with me?"

  The gala? She squinted at the calendar hanging next to her fridge and realized she hadn't yet flipped to April, even though it was already more than a week into the new month. She flipped the page, and there it was, the Red Cross Gala. It had been on her calendar for months.

  "I'd love for you to come," he continued smoothly. "Daddy bought a table. I can always tell him you're sick if you really don't want to go, but there's someone you should meet, and I know he'll be there. He never misses this gala."

  "Bobby, you promised you wouldn't pressure me."

  "No pressure at all. It's not even a real date. You can even drive yourself if that will make you feel better. But Travis Lathrop gives a lot of money to charitable causes, especially when they work with troubled kids. Used to fund that wilderness program before they shut it down... Damn, I can't remember the name."

  "Beyond Boundaries?"

  He snapped his fingers. "That's the one. Travis has got money to give and I'm sure he'd love what you're trying to do. It's the perfect way to introduce you."

  "Hmm. Is it black tie?"

  "Of course." He chuckled. "Well, actually, they're calling it 'Red Tie' but you get the idea."

  "I don't even know if I have a red dress."

  "Sure you do. You bought two last year when we went to that hospital gala, and you decided on the gold one. The red one is still in my closet with the tags attached."

  "I guess I can't refuse, then. But there are a couple conditions."

  "Anything."

  "We can't have a repeat of last time. I know you apologized, and I believe you, but please, Bobby. Please don't drink so much."

  "I won't drink a drop," he replied cheerfully. "Sober as a judge. What's the second thing?"

  "We're not talking about my personal life."

  The affable air disappeared from his voice. "You mean we're not talking about Alejandro Rojas?"

  "My private business is my own, Bobby," she repeated firmly. "I mean it. If you so much as breathe his name, I'm going home."

  "Understood," he said carefully. "If it's that important to you."

  "It is." Her voice was as steady as she hoped it could be. "Thank you."

  "So am I picking you up?"

  "You know what, I'll just drive to your place and get changed over there. It will be easier, don't you think?"

  "Sure." He tried and failed to keep the enthusiasm from his voice. "I'll see you then, Ali."

  "Okay. See you Saturday."

  "Bye, Sugar."

  She hung up with a deep sigh. On the one hand, maybe she'd just signed herself up for yet another dull, miserable night, complete with Cecile's icy disapproval and endless pestering from Bobby about getting back together. But if Travis Lathrop could help make up the $30,000 shortfall she still had in her startup budget, she'd be that much closer to getting the program up and running. Then she could take all the time she needed to sort out her crazy love life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  When Ali met Alejandro at the door wearing only her new lingerie, the look on his face was worth every minute of the forty-six hours they'd spent apart. The rumble of his bike in the driveway at exactly 10:15 had her on her feet and stretched provocatively in the door frame before he even realized she was standing there. When he did see her, he'd nearly dropped the Harley.

  "Baby," he breathed as she slid into his arms on the stairs. "I've missed you." He ran his palms excitedly over the black lace. "Mmm, this is sexy."

  Just like that, little pinpricks of excitement radiated outward from her core, and her legs trembled a bit as Alejandro claimed her mouth. "Ali, Baby," he whispered as his lips captured hers. "You are so beautiful. I've been counting the hours till I could touch you again, mija." Without another word he scooped her into his arms and kicked the door shut behind him.

  When he cradled her against his chest to carry her up the stairs, the rich leather smell of his club vest mingled with his own musk and that scent she could never quite place, no matter how many times she pressed her nose against his skin and breathed him in. The smell that always made her think of fire.

  He settled her on the bed and Ali propped up on her elbows so she could watch him undress. It was her favorite part of the night, when Alejandro came to her and shed his garments one by one like he was shedding the harsh reality that separated them.

  She watched him remove his shirt and gazed at the trail of dark hair running down his muscular chest and disappearing beneath his waistband. Her breath caught for the hundredth time as she marveled at the tattoo he'd gotten when he'd left her ten years ago, the vines growing through the exposed ribcage, a visual reminder of how deep their love had taken root. Finally he was gloriously naked. He walked toward her and she forgot everything else but her need to touch him.

  ***

  When Alejandro crawled into Ali's bed she wrapped herself around him, clinging to him like a vine as he touched her everywhere. He stripped the lingerie from her body, sad to see the lacy scraps float to the floor but eager to be skin to skin with her.

  "Tomorrow night," he murmured. They usually didn't see each other two nights in a row, but he didn't want to wait. In his mind he'd already made a plan to bring her some food, set up a sunset picnic in the back pasture, and make love to her under the stars. "I can come. How early?"

  He was unprepared for her to stiffen in his arms. She went silent for a few seconds and he sore she was holding her breath, her spine rigid. He'd barely registered the shock of her reaction when she slipped away, shaking her head as she climbed off the bed.

  "What's wrong?" Her whole face changed, the eagerness that had been there just moments ago replaced by anxiety as she stood and walked across the room. She pulled a short satin robe from the bathroom door and wrapped it around herself, avoiding his eyes as she tied the sash.

  "Ali."

  Her eyes flickered back to his and then down to the floor. She seemed to shrink against the wall.

  Alejandro sat up then, and swung his legs around until his feet were firmly planted on the floor. "What's going on? Talk to me."

  "I have a gala to attend," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I can't see you." She kept her eyes downcast as she spoke.

  "Okay." He shrugged. "Another time, then. It's no big deal." She shook her head again and he realized her eyes were filling with tears. "Hey, hey, what's this?"

  "I'm going with Bobby," she blurted, and it was like a bucket of cold water on his head.

  He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his head, trying to ignore the murderous thoughts racing through his head. Ugly words lodged in his throat and he swallowed them back as she tried to explain herself.

  "It was already in the works... sort of. I mean, I knew about it and I already had a ticket reserved, but I hadn’t planned to go."

  "But now you are." He tried to keep his voice neutral, but it only came out bitter.

  "Yes," she whispered. “There’s an important funder there, and I need to meet him.”

  His jaw clenched despite his best efforts to remain calm. "And
were you planning to tell me?"

  She shifted from one foot to the other and threaded her fingers through her hair as a move he recognized as nervousness.

  "That's a no, then. Fuck, Ali!"

  She flinched like she'd been slapped. Clearly she'd been nervous about his reaction, and that hurt him more than her sin of omission. Doesn't she know I'd never lay a hand on her? How can she even think I'd hurt her?

  He stood and walked toward his carefully folded clothing. Ali shrunk in the doorway, as jumpy as a cat, as he stepped into his jeans. "I know you don't really love him, and I also know I'll be right back in this bed with you, if not tomorrow then the next night." He approached her, his hands up so she knew he wouldn't hurt her. "But I don't like being lied to. I haven't lied to you, and I sure as fuck don't want you doing it to me. This--" he motioned between them, "This won't work unless we can be honest with each other."