Fighter Daddy: A Bad Boy Secret Baby MMA Sports Romance (8 page)

T
his is
so surreal
.

More than that, actually. Everything around me is too absurd to be really happening.

I'm dancing with Lee Mason. In Ricky's club. As soon as morning comes, we're dead. Unless Lee pulls off a con-artist worthy performance and gets us out of here right from under the noses of Ricky's guys. I count at least twenty of them, but to be fair my eyes are more focused on Lee.

If this is going to be my last day alive, I suppose slow-dancing isn't the worst way to go.

I feel like the Schrödinger's cat in a box. Until someone checks, I'm simultaneously both alive and dead. On one hand, I'm very much still breathing, happy even, wrapped in Lee's strong arms. On the other, I'm pretty surely dead, because as far as I can tell, we are trapped. And like in the thought experiment, at some point the metaphorical box is opened and one or the other becomes true. For me and Lee, it's when this party ends.

"You're quiet," Lee says, his lips curled into a seductive smirk I bet a lot of girls like.

I have to admit I like it too. It's very difficult for a girl not to be seduced when she so badly wants to be.

And the way he said
mine
before still makes me ache with desire. Before, I was really,
really
into him. That was still something I could control, but after hearing Lee's words I'm free-falling in love with him all over again. I have a whole swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I haven't felt like this since high school and the recipient is the same.

I feel silly and happy. That's the thing with pretty boys and falling for them. We
know
they take our hearts, then our minds, and finally our bodies. But we let it happen anyway because it's so
good
. And they make us feel like a million bucks.

"Of course I am," I tell Lee. "This is nice. But do you see all these guys around us? We're never going to make it out of here. Ricky doesn't have a sense of humor. Trust me. I know."

Instead of an answer, Lee pulls me even closer to him. His eyes are piercing, bright and hungry. I get the feeling that he's not worried at all. He's already undressing me for the night, planning for what we will do once we get back to his place. I frown.

"Can't you take this seriously?" I ask him. "What plan do you think you have?"

His body moves maddeningly against mine and I can feel his huge cock pressing against me. Despite the danger we're in, I grind back, as desperate for him as he is for me. This is a club; no one thinks it's weird when I give myself permission to squeeze his ass. It's firm as a rock. Lee licks his lips and I have to wonder if he's even listening to me.

"He won't kill us," he tells me a second before I start yelling at him.

"Yeah?" I ask defiantly. "Why not? You gave him plenty of reasons with that performance. Didn't they ever teach you not to provoke a dangerous animal?"

Lee laughs. I get the terrible urge to slap him, but it only serves to calm me. I don't think Lee wants, or plans to die today. That means he
does
have a plan, but I wish he'd stop messing around and share it with me.

"No," he tells me,
growls
at me. I can feel his heart beating fast, pressed against him on the dance floor. The music is so loud I barely hear him, dragging me along with its energy. "They didn't. When I joined the Marines, they taught me that dangerous animals should be taken down. And when I started fighting, I saw plenty of those. Some in the cage, some at the ringside. I don't fear Ricky."

Lee's hands are on my hips, pulling me along with his rhythm. I follow blindly, letting him kiss me senseless, lost in the music and the sensations and
him
. Some guys have moves and lines, but Lee
works
for me. I don't think he's trying to make me fall for him. I think his very essence pulls me in like gravity.

But when we break the kiss, reality comes back.

"Lee," I say, forcing him to look me straight in the eye to show him I'm serious. "I'm
scared
."

For a second, he looks surprised. As if it takes him a moment to remember not all of us are capable of physically overpowering our enemies. I guess it's easy for him.

Then there's another emotion, a purer, simpler one. Determination.

"Don't be," he tells me. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

It's practically a command and as stupid as it is, my mind immediately obeys. I want out of here, to fix what can be mended. And I want to be alone with Lee. I want to know if I could make something out of this.

I badly need to know what he thinks of the new addition to our lives. So far he hasn't said a word about it and I think it's fair. God knows I don't want to discuss this here, but it worries me nonetheless.

I've already decided I'm keeping the baby. There is nothing Lee could say to convince me otherwise, but the fact that he
might
suggest that scares me more than the thugs around us.

When Lee said I was his, I believed him. But that was only me he was referring to. I don't want him to push me away when he finds out.

I want him to want
me.

I want him to want both of us.

This is all changing so fast that I can barely keep up with my life spinning out of control. I was already prepared to do this alone, without him, but I realize now that was my denial and fear talking. If I'm truthful with myself, I can't imagine doing this without him.

I'm so close to having my teenage dream – as silly and foolish as it was – that I am horrified by the prospect of losing it again.

Lee looks around, deep in thought as we continue dancing. Finally his eyes settle on the bar. I see Ricky's guys standing guard there, but I'm sure Lee sees them too.

"Play along," he tells me and leads me to the bar by my hand, so close to Ricky's guys he keeps an arm around my shoulders.

I can feel his strength coiling under the surface, a hint of the power he wields. My body cries out for it, a desperate choir that's getting louder by the minute.

"Hey!" Lee calls to the bartender, loud enough to be heard over the music. "Drinks for everyone, on me! The champion wants to party!"

He pulls me to him and kisses me again, as the people at the bar shout their orders to the bartender. A few raise their glasses his way, girls wink at him. I feel ridiculously jealous, though obviously I'm the only girl at the club Lee has eyes for. I see that plain as day. When he thinks I can't see, his gaze never leaves me. There's his act slipping again. I want... no, I
need
it to be real. I don't mind fighting for him, but I don't want to fall for a lie.

I see some guys come toward us and wince, but Lee keeps me still and gives me a reassuring half-hug. I think they're Ricky's, but as soon as they start talking, I realize what Lee's plan was.

"Holy shit, Lee Mason!" one of the guys exclaims, a tall glass of beer swinging wildly in his hands.

He's fat and about my height, meaning he has to crane back his neck to look at Lee properly. His friends, three blatant copies of him, all look at Lee like he's a god walking among them.

I think I see a flash of disgust in Lee's eyes, but he merely grins.

"Me in the flesh," he tells them.

I can hear the fake cheerfulness in his tone, but they're too drunk and way too star-struck to notice. Maybe they don't care. I remember what Lee said and pitch in as joyfully as I can.

"Yeah," I purr, cuddling even closer to Lee. "Isn't he
amazing
? You guys fans of his?"

They all laugh in unison, a barking, drunken chorus. Again, I feel Lee tense up, but he doesn't move. I guess under any other circumstances he wouldn't give these idiots a second glance. Right now, we need them. A human shield. Lee cast out a net and this is what it came up with.

"
Fans
," one of them gargles, still wracked by the hysterical laughter. "We're his biggest fans!"

A surge of doubt passes through me, and I think,
What are the odds of that?
before I calm myself. All fans say that, no matter where you go in the world.

Lee smiles, thanking them for their support. He orders a beer for himself – and a juice for me. I see a few more guys come closer as they recognize him. Lee welcomes them all, buying drinks freely to anyone who joins us. I'm pretty sure some of them come for the drinks, but neither Lee nor I care. Usually I don't enjoy being crowded like this, but they're literally shielding us.

They're all babbling uncontrollably. Lee knows how to work them. In a matter of a few minutes, he has this huge, fierce argument going on. They're trying to determine his best fight. I don't have to hide my smile, considering I'm in the role of the adoring girlfriend.

"Against Harvey, last May!" one of the first guys roars.

He's spilling his beer all over his shirt, but like a true fan, doesn't even notice.

"Two minutes in, Lee's got this huge guy
running away from him
in the cage! It was fucking insane! My buddy Blake and I were like,
This isn't happening
, Harvey was a bad-ass fighter you know... but we saw Lee punch him so hard his lower jaw was just hanging there! After that, he didn't want another, if you know what I mean!"

They all know what he means. Ugly, brutal laughter welcomes that retelling. Lee has a spark of pride in his eyes. A compliment is a compliment, even if it comes from drunken guys at a bar.

"Yeah, yeah, that was all right," another guy cuts in. "But did you see Lee against Portman a few months back? That shit was unreal! Longest fight I've ever seen, Portman's an old jiu jitsu champion, he's got a black belt too, and they're pounding away at each other! Blood's flying everywhere, I'm telling you. Guys right up against the cage have their faces splattered with red. I know a man who swears he picked up Portman's tooth from the cage. And in the end, Lee fucking KO's the guy, just like that, after thirty minutes!"

It goes on and on. My smile gets forced at least halfway through it. MMA is more brutal than I ever imagined. What he does is tough and I like it. I want another kind of toughness from him.

I see Ricky's guys behind the group tightly around us. They're looking on with furious expressions, clearly under orders not to draw attention to themselves. We were people at the club before, now we're the center of attention. If Ricky doesn't want a massacre on his hands, he has to keep away. I see what Lee meant. We may have pissed him off, but he can't have a club full of witnesses to our deaths. He's too rational for that.

We're still not out of the woods. We have to get out of the club and then away from any pursuers. I don't doubt there will be followers on our tail.

I tell Lee that, almost screaming to be heard over the club. He nods.

And then, someone says, "How about March seventeenth against Omar?"

I would have thought it was merely another fight, but Lee's face tells me different. It doesn't drop, it suddenly seethes with fury. His hand around me is like a vise. I think he's shaking, trying to hold onto his temper. I see his eyes scan the crowd, looking for the person who nominated that fight.

I don't know what it means, but Lee must not have good memories of that match.

The other guys around us don't seem to recall the particular fight. For a few moments, they try to figure out what year the guy was talking about, but the voice doesn't speak again. They move back to the more popular matches. Someone nominates Lee's victory against Carson, saying it took place only a month ago.

"You should look out," a guy jokes. "I saw him here earlier. Didn't look too happy, eh, Lee?"

Lee grins.

"You know what, guys?" he says at last. "I'm getting tired of yelling my voice hoarse here in the club. Say what, why don't we take this celebration to a bar nearby? First round is on me!"

They all agree, roaring their consent. I think it's a fair plan, but I already see Ricky's guys moving out. Some go to the door, some presumably to report to Ricky.

We move right in the middle of the group. Everyone wants to pat Lee on the back, to let him know their personal opinion of him. He nods every once in a while to show he's listening, but I see him looking around as much as I do.

Ricky's nowhere to be seen and neither is Victor. Half the guys who guarded us are gone. My heart is beating so fast I think it's about to jump out of my chest. Only Lee's sure grip relaxes me.

I don't know if Ricky will let us leave. It is not like him to let his prey get away. But we're not exactly giving him a choice. He can't stop us with all these people watching, can he?

He tries, though. Almost at the door, a bouncer stops us. I see him measure Lee up and down before speaking.

"Mr. Mason," he says. "We didn't recognize you before. The owner of this club is a fan of yours. He wonders if you wouldn't join him? Your friends can drink freely at the bar until you rejoin them."

That gets him a roar of approval from our "friends." I tremble with fear, but Lee doesn't move a muscle. I see some of the guys from our shield starting to move back to the bar.

"That's very generous of Mr. Gerrard," Lee tells the bouncer calmly. "But I think it's too noisy here today for my girlfriend. Some other day."

"It's not so noisy in the VIP area," the bouncer says.

Behind him, I see Ricky's guys gather, backing him up. But Lee calculated correctly. The guys around us are drunk like skunks. They have bravado too. Free drinks were a nice catch, but they don't want to lose Lee.

For a long moment, there's posturing and general murmuring. Lee and his fans stare down the bouncer and Ricky's guys, before the latter move away.

"Of course, Mr. Mason," the bouncer says. "Some other day. Have a nice night."

We move past him. I feel his eyes follow us as we step out into the night. Cold air greets me and I've never felt anything that sweet.

We did it! We're out of the club, we're...

I wanted to say
free
, but what we are is
followed
.

Our shield is effective, but not fast. There is no way for us to lose our pursuers when we have to wait for a bunch of drunks to match our pace. A thought occurs to me that we may have made things worse. Out here the connection to Ricky grows thinner.