Mountain Misfits MC: Complete Box Set

by Voss, Deja

  “That was some amazing shit right there, son,” his coach says. “You had the fight of your life, Red. There’s a lot of people here who are very impressed. “Your amateur days are coming to end here real quick.”

  “It’s all your fault,” Red says to him. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Well I’m sure this gorgeous girl helped, too. You must be Olive.” He extends his hand to me, and I feel a blush coming on. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You know you’re way too good for this asshole, right?”

  “Well you definitely haven’t heard a lot about me if that’s what you think,” I giggle.

  “I’m gonna have to commandeer him for a little bit. Press stuff. And agents. There’s champagne and food if you want in the room across the hall. You make yourself comfortable.”

  “She’s coming with me,” Red insists.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” his coach asks. “I’m just looking out for her. This isn’t just some local newspaper stuff. Your life is about to get a lot less private. They’re going to want to know as much about Olive as they do about you. Everything about your relationship from here on out could be scrutinized by the public. I think maybe you should wait until you have an agent to decide what kind of image you want to put out there.”

  “I’m sorry, Coach,” Red says. “My image is what you see is what you get. As long as she’s cool with it, I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks.”

  We haven’t even discussed our relationship with the guys in the motorcycle club, let alone everyone who follows MMA on the internet. This is about to be a bold declaration of our commitment, and to be honest, I am actually more than happy about that.

  “I’m cool with it,” I say, lacing my fingers in his, “but this isn’t about me. This is about you, Red, and your awesome fight. I don’t want to take away from your big night. I don’t want to jeopardize your career.”

  “You won’t, Olive,” his coach assures me. “My phone has been going off nonstop for the last twenty minutes. This guy could dropkick a puppy right now, and he’d still be getting offers out the ass.”

  “Do I look alright?” I ask, knowing full well that I have more make-up on my hands than on my face right now.

  “You look better than alright. Although that dress would definitely look a lot better on the hotel room floor,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Well then let’s go do this thing so we can find out if you’re right,” I purr.

  I have never felt so important in my life. So wanted. So cherished. A guy can tell you how much he loves you until he’s blue in the face, but wanting to walk out into the world, the first day of the rest of his career with me on his arm as his old lady? That’s a kind of commitment I have never known.

  I try and push aside the fact that I feel like somehow I’m purposely forgetting an important part of this equation. If Red and I go public, where does that leave Tank? Before I can even think though, we’re back out in the crowd again, people holding their phones to his face as they shout questions at him.

  It’s overwhelming, but it’s kind of fun. He does all the hard work. I just smile and take it all in. These people are going to love Red as much as I do. His story, his life, it’s truly amazing. Where he came from and where he has the potential to go would inspire just about anyone.

  As the chaos dies down and we go back to the locker room, I keep myself busy gathering up his stuff while he talks to men who I assume are agents, his coach insisting that he doesn’t sign anything until he can sit down with a lawyer.

  “What are you guys getting into tonight?” he asks Red once the room clears out. “I’m sure a beer or six is probably going to taste pretty good after all the work you put in this month. Got big after-party plans?”

  Red just shoots me a wink.

  I know I have big plans, but they don’t involve anything other than the perfectly good hotel room we have waiting for us and the sheer black lingerie I’m going to slip into as soon as we get there.

  “I’m sure we’ll come up with something,” he says.

  “I’m proud of you, Red.” He pulls him in for a hug. “Take a nice long weekend. Show this girl a good time. We can get back to work Wednesday.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “And please please please don’t sign anything until you talk to me first. I have a really good lawyer. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  It almost brings a tear to my eye seeing how kind this man is to Red. I’m sure he has something to gain from it as well, but when you grow up without anyone to look after you, seeing that there are good people in this world who want to help you restores your faith in humanity just a little bit more.

  We take a taxi to the hotel, neither one of us saying a word. Nothing needs to be said. His actions tonight were all I needed to know that I’m right where I belong.

  I can tell by the way he’s stroking my thigh, his hand creeping up my skirt little by little, that talking is the last thing on his mind, and that’s fine by me. Even though I’ve imagined what tonight was going to be like, I have a feeling I’m in for more than I bargained for, and as the taxi pulls up to our hotel, I take a deep breath and brace myself.

  It’s been two long years of denial and one long week of torturous foreplay, and now that it’s time for the main event, I don’t know if I’m going to make it through the elevator ride to the top floor without getting us arrested for public indecency.

  Chapter 14

  I’m glad I’m not responsible for the key card, because by the time we get to the hotel room, I’m a quivering mess. The way he has me clutched tight to his body like a prized possession, I can feel his hardness pressing into my thigh. He smells like dirt and sweat and if I had any panties on, they’d already have melted to the floor.

  He opens the door and flicks on the light, and as it locks behind me, I feel like I’m trapped in a cage with a mountain lion, his blue eyes fixed on me like he’s waiting to pounce.

  Don’t make any sudden movements, I think, not quite afraid of what will happen, but not wanting to break this weird tense stare down we’re having. I’m holding my breath, waiting for his next move, wanting him to take control of this situation.

  I nearly jump out of my skin as he reaches for my hand, walking me across the room to the king-size bed, where he motions for me to sit on the edge.

  “I brought lingerie for you,” I whisper, as if that’s even a thought in his mind right now.

  “That’s cute,” he growls, looking up at me with eyes that are an equal mixture of sexy and crazy, “but we’re not going to be doing that tonight. I figured you would’ve known by now that I’m not a romantic guy. Maybe Tank wants to dress you up pretty and make you feel good, but that’s not my style.”

  I bite my lip, my heart beating so quickly that I feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest.

  “You do a pretty good job of pretending like you’re a good girl, Olive,” he says, stroking my face. “I know you’ve got Tank wrapped around your finger like you’re some sort of innocent little thing.” He grazes his finger over my lips and I open my mouth, taking it in. “You and I know better than that, though, isn’t that right?

  “I can’t wait to feel that mouth of yours wrapped around my dick,” he whispers. He reaches for my thighs, parting them wide. “Does that make you wet? Thinking about sucking my dick?” As his fingers trace further up my thighs, I begin to gush. “I know exactly what you need, girl.”

  I reach for the bottom of my dress, eager to pull it off.

  “That’s right,” he says, watching me as I strip, “show me how bad you want it.”

  I reach around to unclasp my bra, then grab my breasts, squeezing them together, watching his pants swell as I nearly start drooling at the thought of finally getting to see his cock in all its glory.

  He reaches for my nipples, twisting them between his fingers just hard enough to make me yelp in the best possible way. As he takes his hand and slaps the
side of my breast, my toes curl.

  “Yes,” I shout, staring into his eyes. He does it again, this time not so softly. It turns me on even more than I thought possible, waking up my darkest desires, feeding my urges to do all these depraved things that I’d long forgotten about in my years of trying to be good and clean up my act.

  “You love that, don’t you?” he says. “You love that I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  I love his handprints on my skin, I love that he could break me in half if he so desired. I love that I just watched this man beat someone to the ground and now he’s got his eyes on me. Fear mixed with excitement. It’s like he can smell it in the air, and egging him on might be a dangerous game, but win or lose, I’m still getting exactly what I came here for.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath in just that right spot nearly enough to make me lose it.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I beg, grabbing his hand and putting it on my throat. “I want you to hurt me.”

  He kisses me hard, biting on my lip as he pulls away. “You’re just the right kind of sick.” He grabs my hair in his fist and tugs, his hand pressing into my throat as I feel my pussy begin to throb with need. I reach for his pants, and he pulls my hair harder. “You’re so greedy. You’ve been getting slammed all week and you still need more, don’t ya?”

  “I need you,” I whine.

  “I know, Olive,” he says. “You need me to make you feel like the dirty girl that you are.” He’s pulling his pants down, and the girth of his dick alone makes my jaw drop. I stare at it, unblinking and he just laughs and shakes his head. I’m hypnotized by his raging erection, and my core throbs, anticipating the feeling of it inside me.

  He stands me up from the bed, picking me up, pressing my back into the wall as he forces his way inside me. I scream out, my body feeling pain but my brain melting into ecstasy. The most delicious combination of sensations I’ve ever felt washes over me like a tidal wave.

  “You feel so good,” he grunts, thrusting into me so hard that I feel like he’s poking me in the lungs, like a wild beast, like a lunatic, like a big bad dirty biker who takes whatever he wants. The man I’ve loved since the instant I laid eyes on him. His hands cup my ass, urging my legs to wrap around his waist so he can take me deeper, harder.

  I close my eyes, the sound of his cock slamming in and out of my body echoing through the room as my thighs begin to shake uncontrollably. I feel it from my head to my toes, this explosion. I’m cumming so hard that I feel like I’m going to start crying, my whole world shattering as I hang there in his arms.

  He sinks his teeth into my shoulder and I feel his dick swell up against my contractions, filling my insides, marking me forever with his hot jizz. As his moans soften, so does his grip. He stares into my eyes, smiling, and brings his lips to mine for a gentle kiss.

  Just like that, we’re Red and Olive again. I laugh through my tears as he gently carries me back to the bed and lays me down.

  “Jesus Christ, Red,” I whisper. “I had a feeling you knew how to lay it down, but damn… you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “I’m surprised I lasted longer than four seconds,” he chuckles, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You don’t know how hard this week has been.”

  “Well it’s over now.” I smile, running my fingers through the layer of hair on his thighs, feeling his skin rise into goosebumps under my touch. “At least it’s over for now. I’m sure you’ll be fighting again soon.”

  “About that,” he says, his tone serious but his face soft. “I jizzed in my sleep last night and I still won today. So maybe torturing myself really wasn’t what made this all come together.”

  “All that hassle to waste it all away on a wet dream, huh? Was it at least a juicy one?”

  “I was eating an ice cream cone.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  “While you were sucking my dick,” he laughs.

  “Get out of here,” I giggle.

  “Well if you want to know what I want for my birthday, that would probably be a good place to start.” Well, at the very least, I know he’s planning on keeping me around for another four months.

  “You’re probably starving and exhausted,” I say.

  “I probably smell like an armpit full of gym socks, too.”

  “I kinda like it,” I say, shrugging.

  “You would, you weirdo. That’s why I love you. You’re just enough crazy.” He pecks me on the lips and walks into the bathroom before I can get a word in. “Order us some food,” he calls over his shoulder.

  “What do you want?”

  “Everything,” he yells.

  I hear the shower start running and I pull out some shorts and a tank top from my suitcase. I take a lap around the suite. This place is gorgeous. Tank and I were in such a hurry when we got here that I didn’t really get a chance to look around. I open the door to the balcony and am blown away by the fact that there’s a hot tub outside. It takes everything in me not to just slide on into it and ease these bruises that I’m sure are covering my ass.

  First, I have to feed him. That shouldn’t be hard. All I have to do is pick up the phone. I wonder where Tank is, though. Is he hungry, too? Should I order something for him?

  I haven’t seen him since we got separated at the fight. Was that on purpose?

  I feel my chest tightening, like I’m on the verge of an anxiety attack. I can’t let Red see me like this. I can’t take away from what is likely one of the most important days so far in his career.

  I pull my phone out of my purse and text him.

  ‘Where are u? RU ok?’

  Seconds later, he responds.

  ‘Out with some of the guys from the Hill District Chapter. Have fun tonight. U don’t worry about me.’

  ‘Be careful. I love you.’ I send him a couple kissy faces and breathe a sigh of relief. If I learned anything this afternoon, it’s that I need to take whatever he tells me as the truth, especially if it concerns how he feels.

  ‘Love you, too. Goodnight.’

  My stomach is growling and reality hits me that the only thing I’ve eaten today is breakfast, coffee, and gin. I know Red said to order everything, but he probably should’ve clarified if he wasn’t being serious, because right now, everything looks like what I want too.

  These prices have me cringing, but screw it, I suppose I can pick up a hundred extra bartending shifts in the next month if I need to. I call in our order and grab my bottle of gin from my suitcase and a couple plastic cups from the nightstand. This would probably be better with ice, but I don’t feel like walking down the hall to go to the machine.

  When Red comes out of the shower wearing only a towel, I admire his body and he eyes me suspiciously.

  “What do you got going on there?” he asks.

  “I figured it was like the movie theater here. I don’t want to pay their prices so I brought my own.”

  “Oh my God, Ollie, we’re not paying for any of this. My gym has us covered. Use the damn mini fridge like a civilized woman.”

  “Now you’re asking for a lot from me,” I giggle, but I can’t deny that I’ve always wanted to drink these twenty-dollar beers I’ve heard so much about. I open the little door and give him the side eye from over my shoulder. “This is all normal shit we have at the bar at home.”

  “Yeah, but it costs ten times as much so it tastes ten times better.”

  “Actually, if it’s free, it tastes a million times better.”

  I grab a couple beers for us and plop down on the bed.

  “The food should be here in a couple minutes.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he says, but I can tell by the way he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, I’m about to lose him here. He’s probably exhausted. He had a longer day than I did. I run my fingers up and down the tattoos on his chest, the scars, and curl up next to him while he snores away. There’s a soft knock on the door, and I make sure he’s covered by the towel he
wore out of the shower. We might be a little redneck, but I’m pretty sure we don’t need to be flashing the man who’s bringing us dinner.

  “You want to wake up and eat?” I whisper softly, running my fingers through his hair. He flinches, his eyes snapping open, and his fists clench tight like he’s going to punch me. It startles me to the point that I jump up from the bed.

  “Oh my God, Ollie,” he stutters when he realizes where he is. “I’m so sorry, babe. I swear, I would never hurt you. It’s just an old habit.”

  “Little heads-up might have been nice,” I say, breathing out a long sigh. I know he’d never intentionally hurt me, but I saw what he did with his fists to that man earlier today. I know it’s not his fault. He was homeless long enough that it’s probably still ingrained in him, but it still makes me nervous. “Can I get the door?” I ask.

  I grab some cash from my purse so I can tip this guy as he wheels in two carts loaded with a little bit of everything.

  “I’m not trying to be rude,” the young man says, “but I thought I was going to walk into a party or something on account of all this.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I say. “I’m just a human garbage disposal and he’s a hungry MMA fighter. But here.” I press a wad of cash into his hand. I always make sure to overtip. It’s good karma as a bartender, and I know that sometimes an extra twenty bucks can go a long way.

  “Holy shit,” he says. “You are! You’re Red Fisher! That knockout has been all over the internet. It’s so cool to meet you.”

  “You too, bud,” Red says, laying there, the only thing covering his body the bath towel.

  “Can I get a picture with you?” he asks.

  Red smiles. “What time do you work tomorrow?”

  “I come in at noon.”

  “How about I meet you in the lobby then? I don’t think my ballsack is Instagram worthy.” I cringe and start to laugh. The guy slaps his hand over his mouth as if he just realized what was going on.