Fighter Daddy: A Bad Boy Secret Baby MMA Sports Romance (10 page)

W
hen I wake up
, it's still night outside.

A quick glance at my phone says it's the same night, around four thirty-two a.m. I'm not surprised; it would have been a bit hard to believe we both slept through an entire day. Though the fact I've barely slept for more than a few hours is equally hard to believe. The last days have been so utterly bizarre that I keep wanting to pinch myself to make sure it's not a dream.

I wouldn't mind parts of it being a dream.

Lee is still asleep next to me. He looks so much more peaceful in slumber. Caring, too. I wiggle myself out of his embrace with regret, but I need to think things over a bit. Still, I'm mesmerized by him. We fell asleep in each other's arms and when I slipped away from under him, Lee was left on his stomach.

It's the first time I've seen the tattoos on his back. There are
so
many
. I don't know the first thing about tattoos, but the style doesn't look to be the same for many of them. Different times, different artists. Yet it all fits together, like a huge pattern.

In the middle a dragon crawls down from his neck to his waist, curling around his spine. I trace the length of the beast gently, not wanting to wake Lee up. He moves lazily in his sleep, reacting to my touch. There is a soft groan of pleasure. I get the feeling of petting a huge predator at rest. Such power right under my fingertips.

Some of the tattoos hide between the dragon's wings, as if he's protecting them. I think it's safe to say I sit there for a good ten minutes watching, reading, touching Lee's skin. From time to time, he moves against me, clearly enjoying my hands on his flesh. I wonder if he's really asleep, but if he isn't, he fakes the quiet snoring really well.

His body is truly a miracle. I remember all the matches his fans counted at Ricky's
and later at the bar. They seemed so over-the-top to me then, but looking at Lee now, I believe they're true. Tall and proud, he seems to dwarf every other man I've ever been with. He does, too. I've never had a man like Lee Mason.

I get up and leave the bedroom, closing the door behind me as quietly as I'm able. I go to the kitchen and give it a new look. During lunch, it came up short, but I'm not searching for food this time. After going through at least four cupboards, I finally find a pack of instant coffee. I put the kettle on the stove and find myself a cup.

While the water boils, I take a deep breath.

Ever since Lee returned to my life, I've been kind of unhinged. Not necessarily in a bad way, as evident from the fact my body is still tender from our fucking.

It's not like me to behave this way. Ever since high school, I've prided myself on being able to make the right choice. The lesson Lee gave me was a strong reason for that. And now I find myself in his bed again, knocked up like a cheerleader after the prom.

I wonder if that is what would have happened if Lee had shown up. My life would have gone differently then. A teenage mother, but no Ricky.

I don't regret letting Lee back into my life, not for a second, but I need to clear my head now that the desire is out of the way. I've been fooled by big words before. If Lee wants to be a part of my life, I need to trust him and right now, I don't know if I do. I can still see him walking away from me in my mind's eye.

But of course Lee is not my only concern. No deep breaths help when I think of Ed. Tears come, unbidden, as I sit there in the kitchen and allow myself to mourn. The rational part of me knows that there was nothing I could have done to save him.

He was dead the moment Ricky's guys picked him up. But it doesn't take away from the guilt, not a fraction of it. I may not have wished it upon him, I may have done everything I could. And I am
still
the reason he's dead.

Lee tried to comfort me in the club, saying that if I didn't see him dead, there might be a possibility he wasn't. I don't think he believed it either. He's obviously had run-ins with Ricky too. No, Ed is gone. My sweet, funny boss who tried to hire me a bodyguard and left himself defenseless. I wonder who will pay Lee now.

I guess no one. Judging by what went on in the club, I don't think he wants payment anymore.

That's the thing with desire. It makes
everything
sound good. I learned that a long time ago, from Lee to be honest. That all words are meaningless in the throes of passion. People only show their true colors after the deed is done. I guess I have to wait and see. Lee and I will spend time together now, whether we want it or not, and I'll get the chance to see what he's really like.

At the club, I thought Lee calling me his was really sweet. A part of me still thinks so. I want him, I won't deny that. He wants me too. But the way he said it.... it reminded me of Ricky so much, now that I'm coldly considering it.

Mine
, he said.

I escaped one monster and though I don't think Lee will be as possessive as Ricky, I don't want to exchange one master for the other. What sounds sexy and kinky in bed doesn't necessarily apply to real life. I won't
belong
to anyone, not even Lee Mason.

"Couldn't sleep?" his voice asks, startling me.

I nearly knock my cup off the table, jumping as if he could somehow hear the thoughts in my head. I look at him leaning against the door frame, observing me with a smirk. He's gorgeous like that, tall and dangerous, the fire in his eyes no less fierce than it was earlier that night.

I've sobered up a bit, at least where our relationship is concerned. I see Lee hasn't. I look at him, knowing I need him around to protect me. There is no separating us now. Ricky saw us together and we're better off facing him together, too. But I must keep up my emotional guard around this man.

"No," I admit. "I only woke up maybe ten minutes ago. Water's hot if you want coffee."

Lee nods and fixes himself a cup too.

"You want something to eat?" he asks. "I didn't prepare for guests, but I'm sure there's something."

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry yet. Coffee's fine."

Lee makes himself a sandwich, while I desperately try to think. His back is turned to me and I wish that I could somehow gauge information from the dragon. Something to tell me if it's all right to trust my life to this man, in more ways than one. I'm sure he's able to protect me. But I need to be sure I'll get my life back once we're done with Ricky. I need to know if there is a future for us.

Lee sits down opposite of me and for a moment, everything seems so
normal
. I can almost imagine us, older but the same, waking up after amazing sex, then sharing coffee and sandwiches.

He still hasn't brought up the baby. I hesitate as well. I think I dread the answers he could give. I wonder if the man who isn't afraid of anything fears the questions I might ask.

"Were they all true?" I ask conversationally.

"What?" Lee asks with his mouth full.

"The matches those guys were talking about. All those fights and the ways you won."

"Yeah," he says, not without a hint of pride. "Those guys don't know dick, but they got the gist of it right. There were some good suggestions. Not what I would have picked myself."

"Which would you have chosen?"

Lee seems to seriously think about that. I smile despite myself at the way his face works as he attempts to recall every fight he's ever had. So different from the bully he seems to be.

"I don't know," he says at first. "I threw the idea out there to keep those idiots busy with something. This is the type of a stupid question reporters ask me all the time.
What was your hardest fight?
Like I keep a fucking score in the cage."

"Sorry," I say, taken aback, not wanting to upset him.

To my surprise, Lee chuckles and waves at me with his sandwich. His eyes are glinting with true laughter. It's the first time I've seen him relaxed, I think. I like it.

"Don't be," he says. "You're not asking that to print a scandalous article about how I'm afraid of the guy I named."

"I'm not," I agree. "I'm honestly interested in what
you
consider your best victory?"

"The one that came the hardest."

"And that is?"

"I honestly don't know," Lee says dismissively. "Those fucks think size is everything. You know, pairing me up with a goliath they pulled from a mining village somewhere in Siberia or something. You know what that is? That's a fucking circus. MMA isn't about freaks, it's about
skill
.

"So what if the guy has a hundred pounds on me? I trip him and it's done. But guys like them eat that shit up and think that shows something. Bullshit. I guess there are a few guys who made me work for the victory. But they were all like me. Fighters, trained professionals. True opponents. I say it's one of them."

I listen to him with a mix of dread and admiration. He takes real pride in what he does, I can see that. Lee doesn't like having his fights handed to him. He wants to work for them. I get that. I've never had to bleed for the things I wanted to do, but I get that.

It's something I've always liked about him. The bike, for example. I can't believe he still has that. It has to be ancient now, because I recognized it. He bought it in our senior year with his own money. Worked day and night for it. I saw he'd tuned it up, but it's still his pride.

I also want to get to the top for my own accomplishments. Not take favors from anyone unless they're earned. Ricky's money was supposed to be the chance for me to prove myself. I could work myself up and pay him back.

Apparently the cost was way beyond anything I ever could have imagined.

But next to Lee's pride is a hint of arrogance and lust for violence. I suppose you can't be a fighter without that. I've never seen an MMA fight, but I don't see guys with soft hearts going far. Yet it unsettles me a bit. Lee is dangerous. But at least he's not Ricky.

We talk more and I see more cracks appearing in his posturing. He actually smiles, of course between cheesy jokes and even worse compliments. It's all so ridiculous, all so incredibly
high school
, but I find myself laughing along with him and giggling at the way his eyes undress me.

I threw on the remains of my dress. They cover me enough to be decent. I have no idea what I'll wear tomorrow. Maybe Lee has a few forgotten trophy shirts or skirts lying around that I could wear to the store.

Everything that he's doing is working on me. I want to psych myself out of it, but I'm unable. Possibly unwilling. Ricky twisted something broken in me, a very central idea of self-preservation. I want Lee around. He makes me feel good, wanted, and most importantly in this mess,
safe
.

I keep thinking of that word. I haven't felt safe from the moment I was forced to come face-to-face with what Ricky really is. Only with Lee do I feel better. He always made me feel this way. That's why his betrayal hurt so much.

"Lee," I finally say, gathering up every ounce of courage I have. "What about-"

I trail off. I thought I knew what I wanted to ask, but there is no way to properly phrase that. The whole situation is one big question that I need him to react to.

Apparently Lee understands that much at least. He leans back in his chair and looks at me seriously.

"What about the baby?" he asks.

I nod, unable to say much more. My heart is beating so hard I think I can hear it. This is it, the moment when I find out what I am to him.

"I will take care of it, of course," Lee says.

Well, that's an answer, but not even close to what I want to hear. I feel irritation rise within me, knowing it's my own body fucking my mood up more than Lee's words, but I can't help it.

"You make it sound like you're adopting a cat," I say with more venom than I intended, but Lee doesn't flinch back.

"What else do you want me to say?" he asks, looking sincerely surprised, a frown on his face.

"Something that doesn't sound like it's a chore for you," I snap.

Unexpectedly, Lee grins at me.

"Babies are messy," he points out. "Chores come with them."

I'm starting to think he's messing with me for fun. I glare at him, seeing that gorgeous smirk answer me.

"That's not what I fucking mean," I tell him. "I'm asking if you want this? Us – me and the baby? If you're one of those guys that gets all macho when they find out they're gonna be fathers and then force themselves into something they're not ready for... I don't want that. I'll be fine on my own."

Lee listens, not moving a muscle. All the reactions I'm seeing are the emotions flashing behind his eyes.

"You finished?" he asks when I shut up.

When I nod, he continues: "I know what you're asking. Of course I'm not fucking ready. Neither are you. This isn't exactly what either of us had planned. But I'm in, you hear me? I told you, Raina. You are mine. You are both mine. And if Ricky or anyone else has a problem with that, I will handle them."

Yeah, you definitely aren't doing the macho thing
, I think to myself, but then again Lee has been like that since I can remember.

His words pierce my heart, going straight to my core. The safety I felt before is like a blanket now, falling softly over me as I finally start to see a future ahead again. Maybe Lee can really do it. Take care of Ricky and set us both free.

"I'm going to take a shower," Lee says, seeing I'm not going to push the topic further. "Want to join me?"

I feel my lips curl into a smile, but I shake my head.

"Nah, not right now," I tell him. "I'll make myself another cup and wait for you. Shower sex is overrated. It's not as glamorous as people make it out to be. Tight space, slippery, awkward position. I'll take a bed every time."

Lee comes back to pull me up into a fierce kiss and I melt into it, moaning softly. For a moment, I'm horribly tempted to go along with him, but I really have to stop letting his body affect me like this.

Right when he's almost out of the kitchen, I remember something.

"Hey Lee?" I call after him. "How about the fight that guy mentioned? Against Omar? You looked like that was a pretty good fight. I wanted to ask you about that back—"