Bad Boy's Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance (2 page)

Life was good. I got paid to fight, fuck, and act like a dick. All things I would happily do for free anyway.

Okay, so I didn’t
technically
get paid to fuck loads of women and act like a dick, but the sponsors liked it when I made the news and who was I to deny them?

Before making fighting into a career—if you could call it that—I’d spent every weekend fighting on street corners. And sometimes fucking there as well, if the circumstances called for it.  

Now, instead of fighting on the street, I fought in a metal cage. Instead of screwing random women from the neighborhood, I screwed random groupies who fought their way backstage after the fights.  

The acting like a dick thing? Well, that just came naturally.  

I stuck to what I was good at. If I was going to make a living based on one of my talents… well, probably better to be paid for the fighting than the fucking.

Tonight’s fight had been the toughest one yet, but I’d still won by knockout. I’d just had to work for it a bit this time. The black eye, cuts to the face, and badly bruised ribs were evidence of that.

“Hey, baby,” the brunette said as she strolled into my changing room as if she owned the fucking place. “You were amazing out there tonight.”

Tell me something I don’t know, sweetheart.

I recognized those lips. I’d let her suck me off a few times. Judging by her outfit, she’d been promoted to ‘ring girl’ status for tonight’s fight.

Were they still ‘ring girls’ when there was no ring? We fought in a cage, but ‘cage girls’ made them sound like prisoners. They were always very willing around me. I needed to call them something, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to remember their actual names.

Duke didn’t pay any of the ring girls. They did it just for the opportunity to get close to me. They knew I liked to fuck after a fight, and they wanted to be on the business end of my cock when I let go of any remaining aggression.

Brunette would do for tonight. The girl had some skills with her mouth and tongue, and I had an overwhelming desire to shoot my load down a pretty girl’s throat.  

“You’re covered in bruises,” Brunette remarked, as she ran her hands over my sweaty chest. Her fingers pressed against the red marks on my chest that would soon turn purple.  

I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hand from my chest.

“Do they hurt?” she asked.  

Brunette tried to sound concerned, but the cuts and bruises turned her on. The more battered my body, the more she wanted it. She was practically licking her lips while looking at the black eye forming on my face.

“No,” I replied. “That’s just not where I want your hands.”

Brunette smiled and lowered her hand tantalizingly slowly towards my cock as it began twitching in anticipation. Her palm pressed against the top of my shorts, before lightly stroking it up and down.  

Ugh. The last thing I wanted after a fight was a girl who liked to tease.

Screw foreplay.
I placed my hand on the top of her head and pushed her down to get reacquainted with my dick.  

There was a loud knock at the door. Brunette froze just as she was about to free my cock from my shorts.

“What is it?” I yelled out.  

“It’s me,” Duke replied. “Can I come in?”  

“No you fucking can’t,” I snapped back. Duke might be my manager and my boss, but if he was stupid enough to interrupt my post-fight ritual, then he deserved an earful of abuse as much as Brunette deserved a mouthful of cock.

“Tell whatever girl—or girls—you have in there to put their clothes back on. Or not. I’m coming in either way.”

I groaned and pushed Brunette’s hand off my crotch. She barely had any clothes on as it was, but she’d been parading around like that for the last few hours, so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.

Duke walked in, true to his threat, and smiled at Brunette. “Give us a minute please, Courtney.”  

“Okay. See you soon, sweetie,” Courtney said, blowing me a kiss as she walked out the door.

“Do you have any idea what that girl can do with her mouth?” I asked Duke angrily. “This had better be important.”

“I knew you’d forgotten,” Duke said, shaking his head. “Fucking hell. Now I owe Gayle ten bucks.”

“Forgotten what?”  

“You need to go straight to 51st Bar tonight after the fight and drink there until at least two in the morning.”  

“Not that I’m complaining about spending the night drinking in a bar, but why do I have to go there right now? Can’t I get my dick wet first?”

“Only in the shower. Go get cleaned up and changed. I know the owner of the bar and he’s paid a lot of money to have you over there after the fight. He thinks having the city’s most infamous underground fighter in there will bring in more customers.”

“Do I at least get free drinks?”  

“Yep. Just go there, get drunk, flirt with the women, and act like a jackass.”  

“I guess I can manage that.”  

“I’ll tell Courtney where you’ll be. I know you get fucking moody if you don’t get your dick wet after a fight.”

“Fine. I’ll go. But don’t tell Courtney. I think I’ll dabble with some fresh meat tonight.”  

“Gotta spread out the love,” Duke agreed. He’d been a fighter back in the day, so he knew the score. He was also the closest thing I had to a father, but we’d never had the traditional father-son relationship. More like two brothers who fought a lot.

“I never disappoint my fans. Especially the slutty ones.”

-*-

I can’t trust Duke as far as I could throw the fat piece of—

“Hi Courtney,” I said with mock enthusiasm as she greeted me by the entrance. She’d been lying in wait for me.  

Her face lit up in a glorious smile just because I’d remembered her name. It’d be a hell of a lot harder to hook up with another woman with Courtney all over me. Tonight might have to be a threesome.  

I’m tired, but I’ll manage. Even on an off-night, I can keep two women happy.

51st Bar redefined the term “dive bar.” I’d been in my fair share of shitholes over the years, but this place made them look like celebrity hangouts by comparison.

With every step, I had to peel my foot off the sticky floor, as I headed to the bar for the first of many drinks.  

Some of the lads from the gym shouted my name from the back of the room, where they’d been given a roped off area presumably for my benefit. At least they’d have table service. No lining up for drinks every twenty minutes.  

The place was packed, and while there were plenty of pretty girls, it was a little too much of a sausage fest for my liking.

I started walking towards the lads, when a woman behind the bar caught my eye. On second thought, maybe I didn’t mind going to the bar just this once.

She must be a college student, because she didn’t fit in around here at all. Long brown hair partially hid a cute face that was the picture of innocence until she smiled while talking to another girl by the bar.  

That smile told me all I needed to know about her: princess by day, kinky sex goddess by night. Yes, I really could tell all that from a smile.

Her tight top hugged her chest, but she only had the tiniest bit of cleavage on show. She’d get much bigger tips with a low-cut top, but sometimes what you couldn’t see was all the more tantalizing. That was definitely the case here.

Time for this lucky girl to meet the star of tonight’s festivities.

“Let’s go sit down, baby,” Courtney whined in my ear.  

Shit, better deal with her first.

We walked over to the roped off area where I introduced Courtney to Matt. “You two will have a lot of fun together,” I said, winking to Matt.  

“Where are you going?” Courtney asked, grabbing hold of my arm as I headed to the bar.

“I have business to take care of tonight,” I replied. “Matt will look after you. He’s almost as generously portioned as me.”

“But I want you. I don’t want to settle for someone less perfect. I want the real deal.”

“So do I,” I replied, as I looked back to the bar. “So do I.”

“Just three more hours to go,” I said to Alison, as I handed her another Diet Coke.

“Stop looking at the time. It’ll only make your shift go slower.”

“I can’t avoid it,” I replied. “The time is on the cash register. Every time a customer buys a drink, I get to see just how few minutes have passed since the last time I looked.”

“At least you only have one more night here,” Alison said, cringing as she placed a hand on the sticky bar and quickly peeled it away. “And that means I don’t have to come here any more to keep you company.”

“I’m going to miss this place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I replied, looking around at all the drunken idiots that I served for minimum wage and miserly tips. “They’re not a bad bunch really.”

“Yes, Nora, they are. They actually are a bad bunch. The last time I went to the bathroom, three different men groped my breasts.”  

“Just three? Well, it’s busier now. You’ll have more luck next time.”

Alright, maybe I wouldn’t miss this place, but I would miss what it represented. I’d finished college a few weeks ago, but while I still had this job, I could still pretend to be a student. No responsibilities, no career. Just serving assholes in a bar and listening to bad pick up lines.

I’d hoped for an easy final shift, but no such luck. We had a “VIP” in for the evening. I knew he must be special, because Ray had dusted off the old bit of red rope from the back room and provided them with table service.  

Unfortunately Ray hadn’t thought to perhaps hire more staff for the evening, so I was stuck behind the bar by myself while the other two barmaids were on VIP duty.  

“Maybe you should ask to wait on that table,” Alison suggested, motioning to the loud group of men and their hangers on behind the roped-off area. “I bet the tips are better.”

“No way. The price of those tips is having hands all over you. Look.”  

Alison looked over at the table and saw one guy with his hand creeping up the thigh of Jasmine who stood there smiling and pretending to enjoy it. Maybe she
was
enjoying it. Who was I to judge?

“Good point,” Alison replied.  

I walked away to serve beer that looked—and tasted—like piss to some customers who wouldn’t know any difference at this point. The time popped up on the register. Three hours and ten minutes to go. Wait, hadn’t it been three hours five minutes ago? Was I imagining things now? This night would never end.

“So…” Alison said slowly when I’d returned. She let the word hang there like one of the many bad farts currently lingering in the air.  

“So…?” I queried, as if I didn’t know exactly what she was talking about.

“Are you still planning to meet your father soon?”  

“Yep,” I replied confidently, even though the prospect had me scared as hell. “We’ve had this conversation before.”

“And we’re going to keep having it until I’m convinced that you know what you’re doing. Meeting your biological father is a big move. He doesn’t even know you exist.”

“He’ll be fine. If I can handle it, then I’m sure he can.”

“You don’t know anything about this Duke Nott guy.”

“I know a bit about him. He runs a gym in town. That’s a respectable way to make a living.”