FORCE: Alpha Badboy MMA Romance (30 page)

36

Some people have skills — senses — that are beyond what others believe are possible. Cameron’s animal like instinct for danger rose above human possibility.

He was like a gazelle on the African plain who suddenly raises its head into the wind and darts like a comet across away from some invisible danger with the trusting pack hot on his heels.

Cameron walked into the cavern of the gym, the music echoing as Victoria worked her way down the back hall to the office. He could sense something in the air.

There were the usual sounds of fists smacking vinyl heavy bags and grunts as Danny Dynamo - he had to be 65 years old by now — was taking his leg day seriously with some deep balls out squats.

Roger was nowhere in sight, but Larry was in the corner with a new young guy. Cameron stared, he looked familiar, he stood an inch above Roger’s 6’ and he had a scar that ran thick and wide from the left pectoral muscle up about four inches and stopped just under the indent of his neck.

Anyone new around his girl raised his hackles. When she was here he was on task like a secret service agent protecting the commander-in-chief.

This new guy looked like a mid-rate fighter, tats of course. Probably Irish if the two four leaf clovers and ‘Lucky Charms’ Old English ink across his belly was any indication of ethnicity. There was nagging familiarity, and Cameron couldn’t help but store away every detail of the dark haired newbie as he scanned the rest of the gym.

Cameron’s own training session with Reggie started in an hour. His fight with Jake Rashney was still on, even though Reggie protested. Reggie fretted like a mother hen. He thought something was up; Jake had been known to fight dirty and he won almost every fight by knock out.

Reggie warned Cameron. Jake came out like a battering ram and if you were off your game by a split second, the last thing you would remember is the slick, toxic green of his mouth guard as he pulled his lips back and sunk you with a couple head shots that left you struggling to hold in your own shit.

Word on the street was Cameron had moved into a different league since he returned from his little retreat out west. Jake fought raw, but not incredibly trained, and Cameron was a machine built from steel and thunder, cold but deadly and with world class training behind him.

Outside in the car before they came into the gym that morning, Cameron put Victoria through her paces.

“Phone.” Cameron put the car in neutral, Victoria’s hands were already inside her messenger bag pulling out the new iPhone he bought her. He liked the iMessage texting feature better than her old Galaxy. He wanted to know if his texts were delivered and read and when. He wanted to put the iTrack app on there, but when she pushed back, he caved and let her off on that one.

“You’re obsessed. If I didn’t know you better, I would say you were becoming an abusive boyfriend.” She smiled as she dangled the new phone sarcastically in front of his face, showing him the battery was charged and slipped it into her pocket.

“So, what are you going to do if anything out of the ordinary happens?
ANYTHING
.”

“Call you or leave.
I know
, do we have to do this every morning?”

“Yep. There are lots of things we are going to do every morning, you know that by now.”

He wrapped his hand around her neck, his thumb tracing a line around the tag on her necklace. Less than an hour ago he seated himself inside her as she bent over in the shower screaming so loud his ears were ringing as he drank his second cup of coffee. There was no better way to start the day.

“You have your car keys?”

“
YES
. I have them. I don’t know why, you barely let me drive myself anywhere.”

“What are you talking about? I let you move your car to a different spot every day. Besides, you’ve got me to drive you around. Your car is just for emergency getaways or pre-approved outings.”

“Right, wow. Yep, that’s independence for you. I feel so grown up.” She gave him a wink, but there was a hint of pout in her voice.

“Don’t start. I get that it’s new for you — having someone that takes it fucking seriously that you are safe. More than safe — secure, happy, content, and righteously fucked every damn day — I’m as serious as a damn heart attack, Vic. You get that by now. Taking care of you is a lot of fucking work. Trust me, you’re wearing my ass out.” Cameron gave her neck a squeeze, reminding her of how he introduced her to a bit of rougher play last night.

He felt his blood warm as her cheeks flushed pink, and her eyes dilated. She was so fucking beautiful, and the innocence still drove him crazy. But, as innocent as she was about her new life between the sheets, she had taken to it like a cougar on the hunt.

“Do you ever think it’s ironic that you do all this stuff to keep anyone from hurting me, but —” Her cheeks turned a deep shade of ruby red and her voice fell to a whisper like someone was in the back seat listening. “— then there’s the stuff we do. It kind of hurts me —”

She was teasing him, testing the waters, and it only made the thickening in his crotch more uncomfortable.

“Uh huh. You know the fucking difference. Besides, if I remember correctly, you had no problem up-ending yourself last night and begging Daddy to give you a nice red ass.”

“Sssshhhh!!! God!” Victoria dropped her head and shook her hair into her face.

“What? It’s all good, babygirl. I knew you were going to be the perfect freak, don’t ever be embarrassed. It’s just us, don’t you ever be embarrassed around me. I love that about you. I love everything about you. That
stuff
we do, that’s about bringing you closer to me. It’s about trust; I’ll never take you too far, but you know how close you feel to me when I fuck you just right. Everything we do is because I fucking love you.”

It was the first time he spoke the words, but it didn’t surprise him. It wasn’t planned. He couldn’t remember ever thinking about saying it or not saying it.

Cameron lived in each moment like its own universe and right now apparently was the right time for him to verbalize what she must already know.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside.” He didn’t want her to say anything back to him. He just needed her to know without a doubt that what he held in his heart for her was cement, not sand.

He walked into the back door, his arm draped around her shoulders.

“See you tonight.” Victoria’s eyes darted down the hall.

“You don’t want anyone to see me with my arm around you? Is that it?”

“No, I just don’t want it to be so public is all.”

“Uh huh. Well, that bubble is about to burst, babygirl, I’m about done with this subtle bullshit.”

“Fine, just a little longer. At least until Thanksgiving, then maybe we can tell everyone. Maybe on a holiday, it would be nice. Have a nice dinner, then you can bend me over the cranberry sauce and show them instead of tell them.”

“That’s my girl.” He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead before dropping his arms to his sides and holding the door open.

Inside, the gym pumped with the noise of men doing what they did there. The ever-present music filled the space as Cameron studied the open floor.

Cameron gave the new guy another long look before he worked his way out the back door and into a rare Indian summer November day, the hair on the back of his neck still up.

Something was in the air. He couldn’t be sure if it was danger or just this new heightened sense of responsibility and hypnotizing love he had for her. Or, that new Irish fuck that seemed to always be hanging around.

Now that he had said those magic words, it only made it so much more real. He loved her as deeply as a person could love. Every place he looked, she was there, every time he blinked his eyes he saw her face, or the swell of her hips, the rich doe brown of her eyes.

Her flavor still lingered on his tongue, intoxicating him as he walked to the car unsure if the cracked pavement was even touching the bottoms of his boots as he took each step.

If anything happened to her, anyone took her away from him now, it would truly be his living death.

He knew loving her like this put him in a vulnerable position. After a life of arms-length and walls built to keep people out, she had broken open the damn and flooded his world with feelings and colors and light he didn’t know existed.

Thanksgiving was just around the corner and he finally understood just what being thankful was all about.

37

The weekly juggling act of figuring out exactly which bills could get paid and which ones could wait began. Victoria pulled out the long leather binder along with her hair.

She had tried to get Larry and Roger to let her automate the check writing into a computer program years ago. They insisted she write out each check by hand. It only served to give her another step in the process of entering the debits and credits each month, but what did they care? That didn’t mean more work for them.

She sighed as she looked at the shut off notice from Detroit Electric and filled in the check with the minimum amount needed to keep the lights on.

There was a new client form on her desk. ‘Flynn Dunleavy’ was the name on the top of the consent form with five crisp one hundred dollar bills clipped to the top.

Jeez, you don’t get more Irish than that. Wonder why he came here, they usually all stick together over at Wilsin’s. Maybe he’s on Topher’s shit list, too. Welcome to the club, we have jackets.

Wilsin’s Gym was Topher’s stomping grounds, on Cambridge Street near O’Leary’s bar where Topher held court. It was as close to an office as a street businessman like him got, and most of the Irish fighters stayed close to home.

Monthly dues were just $100.00 at Southside, but the new client had booked training with Roger for two weeks pre-paid. Victoria felt a rare sense of hope. It had been at least six months since they took on any new training clients; maybe things were going to turn around after all.

Five hundred dollars added to the monthly bottom line made no dent in the obstacle that loomed in the distance, but it was a start.

Hey, we might even be able to pay the water bill this month. Yippee.

Victoria tapped at the keyboard, but her mind wandered, and her belly fluttered.

Even when they were apart, he was still here. She pressed her legs together to try to stem the quickly increasing tingling as she remembered his eyes, the blue ice steel that locked onto her face whenever he made her cum — which was more often than she could count most days.

She had taken his picture last night while he was sleeping. The cut of his muscles and the way they stretched and moved the dark ink on his arms and chest make him look like some brutal felon, primed at any moment to rip the skin from your bones.

He wore only the tangled white sheet that lay crumpled covering one leg and the length of his always half hard cock as she snapped his image, her dark, sexy warrior at rest.

He was so much more than the brutal felon most people saw. His emotions ran as deep as the darkest depths of the ocean, and he commanded an ability to see through and into people beyond any telepathy ever tested.

It was unusual for him to not wake up whenever she left the bed, he was worse than an overprotective father. He would look asleep, but as soon as she shifted or lifted his hand from wherever it lay on her body, his voice would ask her where she was going.

Last night they made love for at least two hours. He had promised her earlier in the day a surprise and true to his word, he taught her just how intense everything could feel when your eyes were closed, and your ears were plugged.

He also pushed her, his hand around her throat as he controlled her body, lifting her onto his mouth first, her body at his mercy with sight and sound cut off. Like a blind, deaf mute being taken by some sex monster, Victoria yielded to him with her hands bound over her head until tears soaked the black silk blindfold.

Before her experience, if she had seen someone do the things he did to her, she would have thought it brutal, abusive, forced, and cruel.

But, she understood now. His domination was intimate, trusting, loyal, and more exciting than she could have imagined. He knew what he was doing; that was for sure, and she came at least five times until she was a ball of shaking, gushing, and pliant babygirl.

Sightless last night, he ordered her to open her mouth. She sucked at him like a greedy child, barely able to contain herself as she felt her way with her hands, her eyes dark. He did remove the ear plugs, wanting her to be able to hear and follow his orders. She felt every vein, every crease and fold of his erection with her tongue until he filled her throat with his flavor, and she gulped him down in her fury.

Getting work done was its own exercise in focus. Playing over and over in her head all the new and amazing things Cameron taught her made it close to impossible to keep her mind where it should be.

Jesus, take some Ritalin or something. Focus —

It was Saturday, so the noise from the gym floor was getting loud. It was one of their busiest days, and Victoria shook her head, trying to clear the image of Cameron from her mind and finish writing out and recording the few payments the gym was able to make.

Asher poked his head in the office just before she left last night. His sweet demeanor always took her to a place in their childhood, before they understood their parents’ version of child rearing might have been lacking.

“Hey.” He stepped in and flopped down on the sofa that doubled as a bed on the nights Roger or Larry decided it was too much trouble — or too dangerous — to drive home.

“Hey, yourself. You out of school?”

“Yep. Don’t go back until
next
Monday after Thanksgiving. Hey, you gonna cook?” Asher’s eyes lit from behind; home cooking had been non-existent around there since Cameron left.

Victoria always made time for an early holiday supper at her ‘other’ home, then made her way to her Aunt Lucy’s house — her Dad’s sister — for a second meal around 6. It became a tradition; she got to the little brick house early, Cameron usually the only one up. Even as a boy he rarely let the sun beat him to the rise convincing her he must be part Rooster.

She puttered in the kitchen and by the time the house filled with the scent of turkey and stuffing, Larry and Asher were drooling at the table.

“Don’t I always cook? Your dad would have you eating frozen Stouffer’s Turkey Pot pies if I didn’t. Wow, two weeks off. That school sure is soft —”

“Oh yeah? I go all year remember? No ten weeks off in summer like you guys got.”

Asher opted for a charter high school that allowed for shorter days and a year-round schedule earning him college credits on some Advanced Placement classes. It allowed him more time off interspersed throughout the year, and it meant he didn’t have to slave away at the gym for ten weeks straight every summer.

Cameron helped him apply for the school when he turned 14, knowing Larry would never approve or give him any encouragement on his own. They got Larry to sign the application one night when he was on the last of a 24 pack of Bud.

If she remembered correctly, they told him it was a permission slip for a ‘Human Sexuality’ class.

As soon as Larry heard that, he scratched his name on the line where Cameron pointed and grumbled something about
how in his day they didn’t need to be taught how to do what came natural
without even glancing at the form.

They still snorted with a good belly laugh whenever they recounted their witty prowess at manipulating their father.

When it came time to start school, Larry pretended that he remembered signing the form and that everything was fine. The boys learned to work him to their advantage when it really mattered.

Asher was a year older than most of the kids in his class. It wasn’t his fault, Larry forgot to enroll him in kindergarten when he turned five. It wasn’t until Cameron threatened to call the school himself that Larry rose to the occasion and got him enrolled that next fall.

“You want to go to Gilroy’s tomorrow for lunch?” Asher tried to look casual, like it was some offhand thought, but from the way he took a much deeper breath than was necessary, it was clear that wasn’t the case.

“Ummm, sure —” Victoria gave him a wry grin.

She was about to ask if Cameron could come, but she knew he had training scheduled with Reggie.

Besides, it had been too long since she and Asher hung out, and she missed his kind, funny manner. He was like a flower that grew between the cracks in the sidewalk, unburdened by the restriction and unaware he wasn’t supposed to be such a source of light in the darkness.

Asher was probably the only other person in the world that Cameron cared about and trusted. She couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t want them to stay close.

Growing up all tossed together — they could have turned on each other like vinegar and water back then when their parents decided to upend their worlds — instead, they had bound to one another like peas and carrots.

“Cool,” He seemed nervous like he was talking to someone unfamiliar.

“I’ll meet you there at 1:00 okay? I’ve got to finish the bills and some payroll deposits and then drop them at the bank so it will be in the night drop first thing Monday morning. So, I’ll be over that way.”

“Sounds good.” He leaned forward; elbows balanced on his knees, his California good looks so out of place against the gray walls of the office. “Okay.”

He bounced up like a spring, his eyes darting from the door to the floor. “I’ll see you there. I’m — I —” He was stuttering a bit as he shuffled sideways toward the door. “I’m gonna workout; then Dad wants me to clean all the mats and scrub out the showers. Lucky me.”

Victoria gave him a soft sympathetic chuckle as he nodded and left the office with an uncomfortable half-smile. He tripped on his own feet the last step out the door, and Victoria heard the embarrassed whisper.

“Fuck”

Victoria tried to stifle her laugh at his boyish discomfort. His little crush on her seemed harmless, nothing she couldn’t control.

Then, she was back to her lowly duties, the lowest-paid general manager in the business but at least these days, she seemed to have a permanent smile on her face.

Her phone rang in her pocket; it was the gallery.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Victoria. It’s Vincent”

Vincent owned the Russell & Billings Gallery, and he was the driving force behind her show. He kept her spirits high, never missing an opportunity to let her know just how uniquely talented she was, and he had this uber enthusiasm that even stone cold Cameron found hard to ignore.

They hadn’t met in person yet, but Victoria had several conversations with Vincent at Cameron’s place on speaker so he could hear that clearly, this man had no interest in Victoria outside of her photos. The lilting, lisping, high pitched tone of Vincent on the speaker relaxed Cameron, and he allowed her to spend time with him unsupervised.

If Vincent ever got a look at Cameron, I might be the one getting jealous.

“I’ve got the last three canvases back; they are
innnnncccccredible
.” He sang the last word, drawing it out in a high pitched expression of excitement. “I mean, the way you blurred and did the capture motion on that one shot with the guy that has all the tattoos, it really is breathtaking. And, just the blue color in his eyes against the black and white.
Whew!
Stunning. I’m very excited.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

“I just want to confirm you will be available Friday after Thanksgiving for the VIP opening. Then, that Saturday is the public opening so it would be great if you could be here at least a few hours. Then, after that, you won’t need to be here, we’ll take care of everything. Well, hopefully, you’ll come to pick up your checks when everything sells.”

Her cheeks blushed like a schoolgirl.

Sells? My photos? Is this real? Is his my life?

“Yep. You said I could bring someone right? On Friday?”

“Of course — whoever you want. Bring your whole dang family.” He paused. “In fact, I meant to ask — would any of the fighters in your photographs be willing to come? I think that would make a real impact on the patrons. Probably more sales too. It’s not a deal breaker if you can’t, but it would be great PR.”

Cameron already agreed to go. In fact, he said there was not a prison in the world that could hold him and keep him away. He stood behind her like her personal life coach and raving fan when it came to her pursuing her art.

“Well, it just so happens. That guy in the photo you mentioned — with all the tattoos, blue eyes—”

“
No kidding
?” Vincent cut her off, the regular lilt in his voice turned to a high pitched squeal. “Oh my God, that’s incredible. Oh, my word, Stephen is going to lose
his mind
. I’ll try to control him, he can be such a fanboy.”

Stephen was Vincent’s partner and apparently he was quite taken with Cameron’s photos in particular.

Victoria laughed thinking of explaining to Cameron why this very well dressed man with a spring in his step was following him around the show with his eyes popping out of his head.

Vincent wrapped up with a few more details, and Victoria felt the strangest sense of joy. She felt something as close to pride and contentment she ever experienced. Even with all the clouds that darkened the horizon, Victoria finally understood what it felt like to look to the future with hope.