Fighting For Irish (A Fighting for Love Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (14 page)

Kat slipped her hands down his neck, trailed them over his chest. She fingered his nipple piercings, causing him to suck in a breath and the tendons in his neck to stand out. Watching such a visceral reaction on him from something she did bolstered her confidence. But could she bring herself to use it?

Making a decision, she reached for the button on his jeans. He stopped kissing her and stared. She wished to hell her hands weren’t shaking. It made it damn hard to strip Irish properly, not to mention convince him that this was something she truly wanted. Leave it to her to make a bumbling fool of herself while laying naked in front of the first man she’d ever wanted.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “God, I’m so bad at this.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I don’t know how to be sexy. I can’t even get your pants undone.”

“Look at me.” She did. “The fact that you don’t know how incredibly sexy you are makes you that much sexier. And don’t worry about getting my pants undone. I’ve been doing it for years, and I’m more than willing to help out.”

His crooked smile was contagious. “My hero,” she said.

Irish pushed himself up to his feet and unbuttoned his fly. The glow of the neon bathed his body in light and shadows. From this vantage point, he appeared even more massive. A giant looming over her with blue lightning in his eyes.

He dragged his zipper down. She held her breath and listened to it cut through each of its teeth holding back her ultimate reward. Finally, his thumbs hooked the top and pushed them down and off completely, taking with them the boxer briefs underneath. When he straightened, the breath she’d been holding took advantage of her shock and made a break for it.

While he retrieved a condom from his wallet and did his thing, she studied his impressive size and briefly panicked about him fitting. She already felt so tight and swollen. As he lowered himself between her legs again, the concern must have shown on her face.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

“At the risk of inflating your ego to mammoth proportions…”

“I like where this is going,” he said.

“You’re really…
big
.”

He chuckled and buried his face in her neck. “I’ll fit perfectly.”

“But—” She gasped as two fingers slid deep inside her. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re already wet again for me.” God help her, she didn’t think it possible, but she was. “Your body wants mine. It’ll open up for me, I promise.”

Kat dragged out a moan and rocked her hips as he added a wicked twist to his thrusting fingers. How much longer did he plan on teasing her? She’d had enough foreplay. She wanted the main event.

“Then prove it,” she said, the challenge clear.

He lifted his head and held her gaze. Bracing himself on one forearm, he used his other hand to pull her knee up close to his body. She felt the head of his erection slip into place. Then he flexed forward and breached her entrance one millimeter at a time.

The ripples flowing through her gained in strength the more he filled her, the more he stretched her. Never had she imagined she’d ever welcome an invasion of her body so completely.

Sweat broke out on his forehead, his jaw worked, and his nostrils flared with every breath. The effort it took him to hold himself back was impressive. She was as equally glad for his control as she was frustrated with it.

She felt his cock hit the back wall of her vagina and assumed that was as far as he could go. But then he adjusted the angle of her hips and slid in another inch, releasing a keening cry from her lips.

“Ah,
fuck
, that feels good,” he ground out. “Eyes on me, baby.”

Kat didn’t realize she’d raised them to stare sightlessly at the ceiling. She refocused on his beautiful, strong face.

“That’s my girl. Now stay with me. Nice and easy.”

He started to withdraw from her body. She wanted to weep. At the loss. At the intensity of the heat swirling in her belly. At the tenderness he offered with every move, every look. He’d been right. She fit perfectly around him, as though her body couldn’t bear not doing the impossible to welcome him, hold him.

Every stroke felt better than the last. Every push a new revelation of pleasure.

Seconds melted into minutes. Minutes stretched into eternity. An eternity of connecting with this man on levels she never knew existed, never imagined reaching even if they
did
exist.

Irish changed the pace. Still just as deliberate, but with an added urgency. Soft grunts came from the back of his throat with every thrust. Her breaths mixed with moans. Fingernails dug into the hard muscles of his back.

Kat’s vision started to blur. She was almost certainly suffering from sensory overload. No human could possibly take this immense amount of pleasure and survive. But he showed no signs of slowing, no signs of stopping. She was a goner. There was nothing for her to do but ride the wave and pray she washed up on land somewhat intact.

Having had two orgasms only minutes earlier, she recognized standing at the precipice of another. Only this time all she could do was look over the edge. Something held her back from achieving that explosion of perfect release and the serene fall back to earth. And the longer she stood at the edge, the more the line between pleasure and pain blurred.

“Goddamn, I’m close. I can’t hold back anymore, Kat. I need to feel you come around me.”

“I can’t,” she said. “It won’t work.”

“Hell, yes, it will.”

Reaching between them as he continued pumping inside her, he found her clit with the rough pad of his thumb and rubbed.

“Irish!” Her hips jerked hard as a current of vibrations blazed straight up her center.

“Aiden.”

“What?”

“My name is Aiden,” he growled as he pushed into her again. “Say it, Kat.”

Aiden Murphy O’Brien. He gave me his whole name.

And he wants to hear it from my lips.

Something new swelled inside her in the vicinity of her heart, but she’d have to process that later. Every available brain cell had been taken hostage for the myriad of sensations firing through every nerve, every cell in her body.

“Oh, God, yes,” she cried.
“Aiden!”

His muscles tensed, becoming smooth skin over stone, as he buried himself to the hilt one last time and succumbed to his release. He pressed on her swollen bud and she followed him happily into the ether.

In the minutes that followed, Kat was vaguely aware of him saying he’d be right back. All she could do was lie boneless on the mattress. If her life depended on her running or even
standing
at this point, she’d be a dead woman.

Irish knelt down next to her—wearing his damn jeans again—and helped her into his gigantic T-shirt. His scent comforted her almost as much as he did. Closing her eyes, she lifted the soft cotton to her nose and breathed in deep.

“Take it easy or you’ll need a lint trap up there.” Lying next to her, he pulled her into his strong arms. He kissed her on the top of her head, ruffling her hair when he spoke. “Everything okay?”

Kat sighed and nestled herself farther into his embrace. “Everything is perfect.” Tipping her head up to catch his gaze, she said, “Thank you…Aiden.”

She watched him swallow thickly, then offer a hint of a grin. “It was entirely my pleasure, kitten. Now get some shut-eye.”

Just as she tucked her head on his shoulder, Murphy climbed onto Irish’s chest and curled himself into a tiny ball where their bodies pressed together. She laughed when he grumbled, “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, fur ball.”

And with that, Kat awarded that moment as the happiest she’d been her entire life.

Chapter Thirteen

He was covered in sweat and smears of blood and not all of it belonged to him. His right eye had started to swell and the cut on his lip from the week before had been reopened. The invisible injuries, like the one over his left rib cage and the one on the inside of his right calf, would turn shades of purple later. And yet he barely felt any of it. Not yet. Not while the rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins and fueled his muscles. Not while he still had a job to do.

The crowd’s deafening cheers echoed in the old arena, but like the pain, the sound was diluted, nothing more than a muffled din in the back of Aiden’s mind. A fighter couldn’t afford distractions. A fighter was trained to focus all his senses on his opponent while keeping his ears open just enough to hear instructions from his corner. Everything else was a blur, like a lens out of focus.

When it was done right, every part of a fighter’s mind and body worked together to accomplish a single goal: win.

The air horn blast sliced through the roars, signaling the end of the second round. The ref broke apart Aiden and the other fighter known as Bulldog and sent them to their corners in the black octagonal cage. Breathing heavily, Aiden dropped his ass onto the stool and accepted the bottle Xander offered him. He took out his mouth guard and squeezed some water into his mouth. He swished, turned his head to the side, and spit it onto the mat. The next squeeze he greedily swallowed.

Xan had fought earlier. He had a gash over his left eye and a swollen jaw, but that was nothing compared to what the other guy looked like. Xan had passed to the next round and would be fighting in a week. Now Aiden had to do the same thing or else—

Smack!
Aiden’s head snapped to the side before he brought it back to center and glared at his best friend.

“Do I have your attention now, mate? Because you looked like you’d danced off to La La Land, which is exactly where you’ll end up if you don’t bloody finish that fucker in the next five minutes!”

Winning was necessary, which meant focusing was necessary. If Aiden let himself think about anything else—especially the consequences of losing—he was as good as beat. Xander was right. He’d needed the slap in the face.

“You’re holding back,” Xan yelled to be heard above the crowd. “Stop pussyfooting around and lay him out!”

“Fuck off,” he growled as one of Xan’s fight buddies smeared Vaseline on his cheeks, nose, and forehead. “What do you think I’m trying to do out there?”

Xander got right in his face and nailed him with a serious glare. “I think you’re afraid to let yourself go and fight like you used to. But I’m telling you, if you keep the animal caged much longer, Aid, you’re going to lose. That guy is no joke.”

No, he wasn’t. Bulldog was a few inches shorter than Aiden’s six-four, but he weighed in at 240, which made him a heavyweight. At 205, Aiden fell into the light heavyweight category, but the underground circuit wasn’t concerned with keeping strict weight classes.

Aiden glanced across the cage at the other fighter. He was already standing, shaking his muscles out and cracking his neck to either side as he waited to be called out for the final round. Fuck, he was a beast. But he was slow and preferred the ground game. Aiden’s best bet was to keep him standing and hope to land a punch just right that would knock the guy’s lights out.

The end of the break sounded. He stood and shoved his mouth guard back in. Before Xander picked up the stool and left the octagon, he spoke in Aiden’s ear. “Either you finish him or Kat’s as good as sold to the highest bidder.”

So much for not thinking about the consequences.

Both men met in the middle, fists in front of their faces as they slowly circled, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Xander was right. Aiden had been holding back. Not much, but just enough. Enough to keep himself under control. Then, after the whole situation was over and the smoke cleared, he could rein back in this dangerous side of him like he’d done before. But he couldn’t take the risk that that might not get the job done. He needed to let go and drop that last wall.

So, taking a deep breath, he did.

Like a punch of nitrous oxide in a high-performance racecar, Aiden’s darker half flooded his veins. What he hadn’t let out in more than five years stretched and yawned inside him…then shook off the sleep and bared its teeth. It was done. The beast was unleashed. He stared down his opponent and let him see it in his eyes.

Then he attacked.

Man to man, they clashed in the middle of the cage like modern-day gladiators. But instead of a shield and sword, their fists were all they used to both punish and protect. Though Aiden’s appearance hadn’t changed, his technique had. His strikes were harder, quicker.

Bulldog swung and connected a meaty fist with Aiden’s ribs. Pain like shards of glass sliced through his torso. He smiled through the pangs, the kind that if his mouth guard wasn’t in would be all teeth, no mirth. The kind that warned of something unpleasant to come.

Aiden answered with a jab-hook combo that rattled Bulldog’s head, but not for more than a couple of seconds. They engaged each other again and again. The man moved like a boxer and hit like a train, but his bulk made him slow. For every punch he threw, Aiden threw combinations of two or three. Still, they were pretty evenly matched standing up, and Aiden wasn’t in this fight for good times. So when he saw an opportunity, Aiden shot in at the man’s hips and took him to the ground. Hopefully Bulldog’s jujitsu wasn’t up to par with Aiden’s.

He swung his body off to the side, yanked Bulldog’s right arm between his thighs, and slammed the rest of his legs across the prone man’s chest to pin him in place. Pulling Bulldog’s wrist down, Aiden threatened to break the fighter’s arm, bending it back in the wrong damn direction.

It only took a few seconds before Bulldog used his other hand to tap the mat three times, signaling to the ref that he conceded the match. Aiden let go, they both stood up, and the ref raised Aiden’s hand as the winner while the announcer said his piece.

“And the winner, finishing the fight at one minute, thirty-seven seconds in the third round by submission is…Ooooooo’BRIEN!”

With sweat pouring down his body and his breaths still coming hard and fast, Aiden aimlessly scanned the mostly booing crowd. Underground tournaments were hotbeds for big-time gamblers, and apparently Bulldog had been favored to win. Looks like he wasn’t about to make any new friends tonight. Fine by him. He had no intentions of being buddies with anyone. He just wanted to win his fights, collect the money, pay off Sicoli, and keep Kat safe with him.

He shook his head. Those head shots must have been worse than he thought. He couldn’t keep Kat with him. He was making her safe by paying off her bogus debt, then he was sending her on her way with a decent chunk of cash to start a new life somewhere else. That was the plan.

Finally, everything was over. The ref dropped his arm and the crowd was getting pumped up for the next fight. Aiden stepped out of the cage and met Xander, who gave him his duffel bag.

“Nice finish, mate. Let’s do it a little sooner next time, eh?”

“Whatever you say, coach.” Hoisting the duffel strap over his shoulder, he looked up and saw the last two guys he wanted to see: Sully and Vinnie. They stared right at him as they moved through the ebb and flow of the crowd toward him. “Xan, we gotta go. Out the back, come on.”

Xander glanced in the direction of where Aiden had been looking and needed no further explanation to follow him in the opposite direction. They made their way through the sea of people to the back where the fighters had rooms to get ready in. A quick jog to the end of the hall had them through the back door and out to the car.

As Xander steered the Nova out of the parking lot onto the main road, he glanced over at Aiden. “Wanna tell me who the fuckers were we just ran from?”

He plunged a hand through his hair and stared out the open window. “Those are the guys collecting for Sicoli. I’m planning on paying them off with the money I get from winning the tournament.”

“You mean
if
you win the tournament.” Aiden glared at his friend. “Okay, fine,
when
you win it. It’s a damn good thing I like the girl. I wouldn’t throw away my chances at starting up my career again for just anyone.”

“What are you talking about?” Aiden asked. “How is fighting in the underground tournaments getting you your career back?”

“You’ve heard of Victor McManus, right?”

“Yeah. He’s one of the most sought-after managers in the MMA circuit. What about him?”

“He’s looking for fresh talent. Raw talent. And it just so happens he’s scouting at the Four by Four. He was there tonight. No doubt you made an impression on him.”

“I’m not looking to make an impression on anyone, Xan. I’m only doing this to get Kat out of danger.”

His friend cut him a sidelong glance. “How much of this is to pay off a personal debt to Jax and how much is because you’re falling for the girl?”

Aiden disguised a wince by dragging a hand down his face. That question hit a little too close for comfort, and he didn’t want to give the answer any serious thought. He and Xan had already had a frank discussion about keeping his hands off Kat now that Aiden had pissed all over his own boundaries with her. He’d been relieved to hear Xan had never set his sights on her in the first place.

“I owe Jax. And it’s not as if I had anything pressing going on in my life. I’ll see this through. Make sure Kat is in the clear and safely back with her sister. Then I’ll go back to Boston where I belong.”

Though he said the words, he didn’t necessarily feel like he belonged in Boston anymore. His desire to go back to what he knew had lessened more and more as the weeks he’d spent around Kat went by. And after the way the past week had gone, he was having a hard time picturing himself back in his old neighborhood at all anymore.

Hearing her call his name—his real name—as she came beneath him had almost done him in. Three words that never should’ve entered his mind had damn near tumbled from his lips in the aftermath of that moment. Thank Christ he’d had enough presence of mind to bite his tongue before he’d made a fool of himself.

But a close brush with humiliation hadn’t dampened his libido in the slightest. He’d spent the rest of the night alternating between talking with her about the most mundane things and making love to her in new ways. They’d learned little things about each other like favorite colors and foods and movies. Then they’d learned about each other in much more carnal ways. Like what made them moan and gasp and go absolutely fucking mindless.

As they’d lain together in the early morning hours, exhausted and spent, she’d kissed his neck before whispering, “Thank you for my night. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”

She’d been saying good-bye. His throat had tightened with a knot of emotions, but he forced himself to focus on the fact that he couldn’t let her leave before he paid off the debt.

“What if,” he began, his voice not more than a rasp in the dawn, “we could have more than one night? Would you stay?”

She angled her head on his shoulder to look up at him, but he continued staring at the ceiling. “Aiden—”

Damn, he loved the way she said his name.

“—look at me,” she said, palming the side of his face with one slender hand. He did. “You’re the first man to ever treat me as something other than a means to an end. Whether what I feel for you is borne of gratitude or something more, it would be really easy for me to agree so I could have that for a little longer.” She raised her head from his shoulder, and her eyes pinned him with an honesty that shook him to his core. “But I’m done being used by men, even if they’re more hero than villain. So if you’re looking for a fuck buddy, I’m not your girl.”

Either you break her heart, or they’ll sell her and break her will to live.

“I didn’t plan on getting my emotions involved,” he said. “But now that they are, I can’t ignore them any more than you can.”
Truth
. “I think we should see where this goes.”

“I’m afraid of letting myself have a taste of something good if it isn’t going to last. I think I’d rather not know how green the grass is.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”
Lie
. He intended on leaving as soon as she was safe, even though it would hurt her. It made him sick to think how much she’d despise him, but it would be better that way.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay.”

Relief washed through him, but chasing its heels was an oily dread for what he knew would happen in just a few short weeks. He’d done his best to shove both from his mind as he kissed her long and slow until they’d depleted the very last vestiges of their energy before sinking into a deep sleep.

The rest of the week had passed with one surreal event after another. They’d taken Murphy to the vet and then the local pet store to stock up on any and everything a kitten could need or want in its nine lives. Kat often watched him train in the mornings, and then they’d spend their afternoons playing with the fur ball at her place before going into work together. And since she didn’t like the idea of leaving Murphy alone all night, she stayed at the apartment and he never had trouble finagling an invitation to stay over.

In fact, tonight was the first time they’d really been apart since everything started the week before. Usually he was scheduled to work Saturday nights with her, but he’d gotten someone else to cover his shift, then told Kat he gave up his hours because the other guy needed some extra cash.

At last Xander and Aiden pulled into their driveway. The crunching of gravel under the Nova’s tires alerted Ally, who opened her giant maw and hissed in protest from in front of the porch steps when the headlights swung over her.

“Cranky croc,” Xander muttered.

“She’s an alligator, not a crocodile.”

“Either way, she’s a moody female,” he countered. “Speaking of moody females…”

Aiden looked up to see Kat’s car parked in front of the house. He wouldn’t classify her as a moody female, but once she saw him and realized he’d been up to more than just giving a coworker some extra hours, that might change.