ROMANCE: MENAGE ROMANCE: Tapped and Taken by Two (Pregnancy Sports MMA UFC Fighter Romance) (Alpha Male Romance) (5 page)

I sit down on the toilet, stripping off my clothes and dropping them to the floor. The brush of my fingers against my skin makes me shudder, cluing me into how keyed up I’ve become. I have to remind myself again that I’m not attracted to violence, that I don’t want to see men pounding each other into the floor. My fingers skate up to my nipples, circling around my areolas. The heightened response I receive has me gasping and leaning into my own touch. My nipples rise up, rock hard, eager for more. I squeeze one, slipping my other hand over to cup my breast. A shuddering sigh spills out of my mouth as my lips quiver in pleasure. I can feel a building wetness between my legs, but I don’t indulge just yet. I let my fingers coax more and more ecstasy from my skin.

Tapped and Taken by Two

*Round 1*

Kylie McKee knew what the test would say before the lines turned blue. She’d never been pregnant before, but her body felt different, and when she missed her period, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind what was up.

Seeing the confirmation of what she already suspected brought her three simultaneous reactions. First, and most important, a warm glow of pleasure. While this was unplanned, she’d often considered motherhood. It was something she wanted, and for the first time in her life she was in a reasonably good place to provide for herself and a baby. She hoped it was a daughter.

Second, a dim disappointment at scaling back her MMA training for the next nine months. A bummer, as she’d been getting pretty good, and stronger than she’d ever been in her life.

Third? She had no idea who had fathered her baby.

She supposed it didn’t matter. The baby was hers, and she didn’t need someone else in her life to help. The father had to be either Jason Bright or Max Waller. They were they only two men she’d been with in the past few months, since moving to Venice Beach. And what a night it’d been, something to cross off her bucket list. Something she never thought she would ever do, but Kylie was the type who didn’t worry too much in the moment and usually just went with what felt right, which had gotten her to Venice Beach in the first place. That night, doing what felt right meant she’d brought both of them home and they’d all had the time of their lives, and even now doing what felt right meant she was going to have this baby.

Her memory of the night wasn’t too crisp, they’d all had a good amount to drink. She remembered hard, slick muscles, tattoos in two different styles, tangled bedsheets, hot breath and the intoxicating threshold where pleasure meets pain. Afterwards, feeling the same euphoric exhaustion she got from long and hard training session where she gave everything she had. She thought they’d be too macho to do it. That night, they were challenged over tequila shots, she didn’t think it would turn into what it did.

Kylie imagined that both Max and Jason remembered the path it took them to go from after-training drinks to tangled on her bed the same way she did. Kylie enjoying their bodies in every way, they enjoying her body in the same way. Taking one step, expecting it not to go any further, only to find you are already starting to think about taking the next step, until finally, the next step was all anyone could think about. Eventually, naked, doing what came naturally. 

She’d known them both about three months. She met Jason first in front of the Ultimate Pro Elite Spartan gym where he’d been futzing with his Harley, a light and lean candy orange 883 Iron. Kylie, eager to connect with people in her new area, told him the bike was beautiful, then asked if he trained at the gym. He puffed up like a peacock, did some typical macho flexing, and told her he did. He dressed like a rockabilly singer, modern pompadour undercut and bold stars tattooed up his forearms. His dark jeans and white t-shirt were tight. More American classic style tattoos peeked out from under his clothes.

“I just signed up for my first class here.” Kylie said.

He’d looked her up and down, given her a nod, but said, “Not enough tattoos.”

She laughed. “At least that you can see. Also, haven’t found the right one to show off yet.”

“Hey, do I know you?” he said. “You seem familiar.”

“Nope. Never been to Venice Beach in my life before I moved here.”

“Huh. Well I’ll see you around.” He leaned down to wipe some mud spatter off his back fender, and Kylie headed into the gym. She’d never done any kind of martial arts, but she danced for a long time, and with her recent move and the changes she’d made, she didn’t want to do it anymore. She had watched the fights before on T.V. She was drawn to it. The primal physicality of it, but also saw how hard these athletes trained and while she didn’t think she wanted to compete, it seemed like a good, physical way to get out some aggression and get some exercise. It was also the last thing she or anyone else from her old life would expect her to do, which made it all the more enticing for her.

Kylie had just come from San Francisco and didn’t ever want to go back. She didn’t grow up there. That was an even longer story, but it’s enough to say that at the age of 17 she found herself on a bus with just a small backpack with all her belongings in it on her way to anywhere but the small midwestern city where her mother and new stepfather lived. There was nothing abusive in her past. Kylie had always just been independent. When her step dad moved in things changed at home and something clicked inside Kylie. Even though her mom begged her not to leave she knew it was time to move on and start her own life just like her mom had done so with her new husband. After all, it was time for both of them to move on with life. It had been five years since Dad passed away.

For Kylie, it just felt right to pack her stuff and move away. Kylie hoped that her own child would have the same strength and determination she had, but also hoped that it wouldn’t put her through hell like she did to her own mom.

It took a few years and probably a million tense and worried phone conversations with her mom but eventually Kylie started to pay her rent in San Francisco. Soon enough, she started living in houses and apartments with less and less roommates. Every move getting her to a nicer place with more space of her own. Soon enough she was down to just one roommate, and then just as soon, she only started living with someone else when she wanted to and never because she had to. Funny enough, eventually she found herself living in a beautiful mansion married to an owner of a large software company. She had everything she could have wanted.

One of the downfalls though of letting your feelings for what is right guide you is that sometimes the alarms going off in our heads warning us to stay away from someone or something get ignored. Kylie found herself in a mansion, and in a relationship that started out great for a week or two and then started to get bad, and then just continued to get even worse. She had it all though so was able to ignore what her brain was telling her for a long time, and it wasn’t until her ex-husband decided he was done with her that Kylie found herself back where she started all those years ago on a bus leaving her second home. Now headed toward a new life in Venice Beach.

Luckily, she was still young enough to start over. In fact, she felt like she had found herself again. Like those few years she spent being a trophy wife weren’t actually her, and now she was about to start her real life. She could do it. She had done it before, and having no choice but to leave her old life she stepped off the bus at the L.A. station closest to Venice Beach feeling the lightest she had been in as long as she could remember.

Although she was a bit older now than that time she stepped off a bus in San Francisco she still felt like her 17 year old self again. Full of hope and excitement. Of course though, being a little older now meant that she had a few extra necessities with her like an almost maxed out credit card, and at least a few dollars in a bank account, but also a decent resume with experience and connections to help her get a decent job, and most importantly, her dog and best friend Rosie, a Belgian Malinois.

The tragedy of her past relationship felt like the best gift in the world as Kylie contemplated the new things she would be able to try and the old things she loved to do that she could start again. Things like painting. It sounds strange but one of the things she always did since she was a young girl was paint. Specifically, portraits of her friends dogs and cats. It was something she started as a kid and never really grew out of. She loved animals and she loved to paint. Putting the two together was natural for her and made her happier than anything else. Even as an adult. It was a silly thing she liked to do she knew, and let herself be shamed into not doing for years because it wasn’t expected of a wealthy man’s wife in her social circles.

Round 2*

When she entered the Ultimate Pro Elite Spartan, she found out soon everyone just called it the Ultimate, the clean, sparse look of the gym impressed her. The waiting room held a front desk, a leather couch, and the doors to the two locker rooms. Both converged on a workout space floored in polished blonde wood. One wall was mirrors, near the back were a speedbag and a dummy. A side door opened to a smaller room with additional mats for sparring. A giant snarling tiger decorated one wall, a huge dragon the other. The two animals seemed ready to battle one another. The whole room seemed to echo strength. It felt like home for the new her. It felt like somewhere she needed to be right then in her life. A place she could learn the strength to never again change herself for someone else or stop doing something she loved just because someone else wanted her to.

So many people picked up on the whole machismo aspect of MMA, but Kylie didn’t see it that way. Here was a place where the strong trained to get even stronger. Where people who didn’t want to let life throw them around got together to train and compete.

The first class kicked her ass, and she met Max on her way out. Sweat drenched her back, her cleavage, her armpits, but in her exhaustion after the class she couldn’t bring herself to care. Plus Max looked equally gross, his short cropped blond hair a mess. Kylie was starting to think that after seeing Jason with his Harley on the way in, and now meeting Max with his big arms and deep blue eyes there was another benefit to regularly training at this gym.

“We call it getting baptized,” said Max as he unapologetically looked Kylie up and down.

“What do mean?”

“The sweat. Your first time is like getting baptized, water and all.”

The sweat thing was something she needed to over relatively quickly in order to train at the Ultimate. This was a gym where sweat was necessary. If you weren't sweating then you weren’t working. It did take a few classes but eventually Kylie stopped noticing sweat and only noticed if someone wasn’t sweating in that gym. 

Max with his tattoos all black, thick and tribal spoke with slightly huffing breath the first time she met him.

“It IS your first time, right?”

“Was I that obvious?”

She had to put all her focus into that first training session, but she also did manage to noticed him, not participating in the class, but off to one side hammering down on a speed bag. Kylie felt a little excited Max was taking the time to talk to her.

“You could be really good. You know how to move. Just need to build some strength. Where else have I seen you before?”

She studied him for a moment, acting like she was trying to place him, meanwhile thinking about how this was the second time she had heard that line today. “I haven’t been in town long. Not sure. I guess I have one of those faces.”

Kylie wanted to argue with him that she
was
strong, but compared to Max’s bulging muscles and some of the other men and women she’d seen today, she knew she had room for improvement.

Coming to the gym became her newest addiction as she hunted for and found a new job at the front desk of a marketing firm. Kylie was really good at interviews and she could basically pick and choose from all the jobs she applied for. The specific marketing firm she chose because it paid the best but also felt the best. It was modern and she knew from the first day that she would also have some creative input on the jobs that passed through the firm. With a good job and her rent covered Kylie felt well and on her way toward her new life. A new job and a new passion each one giving her an enormous amount of happiness. She was also starting to pick up her old passion again: Painting.

She ran each morning with the only major thing she had brought with her from her old life, Rosie. Rosie was liking their new life so far as well, getting to go for daily runs and playing on the sand and in the ocean. She did pull ups every night on a bar in her apartment as well thinking about how Max assumed she wasn’t strong when he first saw her. The focus gave her something to pour herself into, filling the gap left behind.

She got to know the other men and women at the studio. Started to find her niche in her new place. She felt like she belonged. It didn’t take long for her to also find a new circle of friends from the gym, among them Max and Jason.

At first it was only Trisha that she connected with outside of the gym. Trisha was like her. Not looking to fight, only to train. The two of them would spare though on the mats in the separate room from time to time and like the sparring matches Jason and Max had with each other, eventually they too started to have people stop their training to poke their heads in and watch.

Kylie liked how Trisha was driven and strong like herself but she never let the sparring matches go beyond the mats. Always giving everything she had but also knowing she was testing herself more than she was trying to win a fight. A pretend fight, which is what it actually was.

The night Kylie, Max, and Jason took things way farther than Kylie thought she would ever go, Kylie and Trisha were having one of those sparring matched at the gym. Kylie remembered the trainer, Jax, ringing the bell and hearing the cheers and applause of the other people in the room. She remembered seeing Max and Jason in the doorway both nodding in approval while they clapped before turning around to go back to their own training again. Jason on the speed bag and Max on the heavy bag held in place by Ferran, one of the other trainers and part owner of the Ultimate with Jax. Kylie really felt like part of the club then.