by Lilly Atlas
Izzy glanced back at him, tears in her eyes. It was about time his woman realized she had a family now. A family that would be all up in her shit all the time, and wouldn’t desert her even if their lives were on the line.
“Go get him, baby,” Jig called out, clapping his hands together fiercely.
As Izzy slipped through the ropes and jogged into the center of the ring, Jig took the position in her corner.
Slick paid her no attention, screaming like a madman at the announcer, no doubt shocked by the turn of events. Finally, after the announcer told him to shut the fuck up, Slick turned his furious gaze on Izzy. Slowly, like she was unveiling a fantastic surprise, she lowered her hood.
God damn, Jig wished he’d had his phone out at that moment. Slick’s mouth flapped like a fish out of the fucking water. His eyes bugged, and his arms hung limply at his side.
“Hey, fucker,” Izzy said. “Remember me?”
Slick’s eyes narrowed at that, and his mouth finally closed, curling up in a grin. “I sure do, sweet tits. I remember how I left you bruised and crying on the floor.”
Jig snorted. He knew for a damn fact Izzy did not cry. And the “sweet tits” comment would earn Slick a private visit from Jig soon. Right about the time he healed from the beating Izzy was about to dish out. Only he might walk away from that meeting with one less appendage.
Izzy smiled right back at Slick. “Took three of you douchcanoes to get the job done, though. Let’s see how you do with a little one on one.”
“Bring it, bitch.”
Izzy ignored the comment, tossed her hoodie to Jig, and went straight into the zone. He could tell because her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a firm line, and she held herself ready to attack at full force.
The announcer reviewed the very few rules, and the fight began. Slick came at her, balls out in a lightning-quick attack. Jig’s breath stilled as the man exploded forward and caught his woman with a jab to the face.
Izzy’s head snapped back, and when it bounced forward again, there was a trickle of blood running from her nose, but a huge fucking grin on her face. She was a skilled and smart fighter. Slick hadn’t caught her off guard; he’d played right into her hands. She took another shot, this time to the ribs, making Jig wince.
It’d been a few weeks since she was injured, but that couldn’t have felt good. Slick said something Jig couldn’t hear, but it had Izzy’s eyes narrowing more. It was then Jig caught on to her game. Reel him in, throw him off guard, and—
Slick got cocky, gave Izzy his back while the crowd cheered for him. It was only for a split second, but enough for his girl to spring into action.
She took him the fuck down.
The surprise on Slick’s face as his feet left the mat and his body crashed down was another Kodak moment Jig wished he could have captured. Before Slick had time to realize what happened, Izzy mounted him and went to town with a good old-fashion ground and pound. Fists flying, she hit his face, chest, sides in a rapid pattern of misery for ol’ Slick.
Eventually, she let up and leaned over a weakly struggling Slick. “Give up?” she asked.
“Fuck you, bitch,” he said.
“I was hoping you’d say something like that.” As Slick failed in attempt after attempt to get up, Izzy moved quick as a fox, flipped Slick around and got behind him in a lethal choke hold.
Stubborn enough to resist tapping out, Slick twitched and clawed at Izzy’s arm for about twenty seconds before the lack of oxygen took him out. The moment he slumped, the match was called, and Izzy released him. He came to within seconds, red-faced and spitting like a wet cat.
Jig’s brothers and their women went nuts once again, screaming for her and losing their shit. Izzy rose, exhaustion clear on her face, and Jig had a feeling it was as much emotional as physical. Pride surged in him as he looked at her happy face. He was damn proud of her and damn proud to have a woman like her at his side.
He ran to the center of the ring, grabbed her by her ass, and hoisted her into his arms. “Feel good, baby?”
“Sooo good. You have no idea,” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Ready to feel better? Think I made you a promise I’m dying to keep.”
“Hell, yes!” Izzy said right before she kissed him. Her tongue slid into his mouth, and she gripped him tight as she subtly ground against him.
“Shit, Iz, got a little post-fight horniness going on?” His dick was about two seconds away from throwing a revolution and busting straight through his zipper. Neither of them seemed to realize they were still standing in the middle of the ring.
“A little bit. Mostly I’m wet because the man I love told me he was gonna eat me out if I kicked this guy’s ass.” She winked and rubbed her spandex covered pussy over his crotch. Shit, it would be pretty fucking embarrassing if he busted a nut in the middle of a boxing ring with a hundred people around.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said, releasing her. They jumped from the ring, ignoring the catcalls from his brothers and made their way to the “locker room,” which was really just an area sectioned off by plywood. “Get the fuck out,” Jig called to the two people changing.
Both glanced at him and paled when they saw his cut. Being feared had its perks. The moment they were gone, Jig backed Izzy against the wall, boxing her in with a forearm on either side of her head.
Perspiration gave her a glow, and her flushed face spoke to how much she’d exerted herself in the ring. Of course, that damn braid was perfect as ever, not a stray hair in sight. He reached behind her head and somehow managed to unwind the tail of the braid. Then he ripped off the rubber band and dove his fingers into her hair, working the tight strands out until thick waves tumbled down, sticking to her sweat-dampened skin.
The entire time he messed up her hair, he’d had his thigh pressed up in the junction between her legs. By the time the braid was undone, Izzy was moaning and riding his thigh like a mechanical bull.
“I need it, Jig,” she said. “Don’t make me wait.”
“You love me?”
Her hips stopped rocking, leaving that hot pussy pressed firmly against his leg, her juices soaking through both her shorts and his jeans. He moved his hands from her hair to her ass, gripping the taut globes hard and grinding her harder on his leg.
She let out a little moan and nodded. “I love you, Jig.”
“You know I’m fucked up, right? That I’ve got this…thing in me. This beast that claws its way out sometimes. You know it’s why I fight.”
Izzy pressed two fingers over his mouth, pushing the words back in. “I see you, Jigsaw. I see you, and I see Lincoln, and I see how what happened shaped you into the man you are today. The man I love. I love you, Jig. I love the man standing in front of me, every fucked-up piece of you. And for the record, that beast can come out and rage-fuck me any time he’d like.” The smile she bestowed on him wasn’t one he’d seen from her yet. It was sweet, intimate, loving, and made him believe every word out of her mouth.
“You know I’m fucked up too, right?” she whispered as he rested his forehead against hers, still holding her ass.
“Yeah, I know it.”
She chuckled.
“Looks like I see you too, Isabella. And I love you. Never thought that’d happen to me again. Never thought I wanted it. Now? Well now I want it so bad I’ll even let my woman get in the ring and fight some punk-ass moron.”
Tears glistened in her eyes, making Jig’s chest tighten. There was no way in hell he deserved this fierce, warrior-queen, but he’d take her, run with it, and never look back.
Izzy cleared her throat. “Think you’re ready to give me my winnings?” Her smile was sly, teasing. “Because I’m ready to collect my prize.”
“Is that so?”
She bit her lower lip and nodded. Shit, that lip had his dick growing even harder, which shouldn’t be physically possible. He lowered his zipper just to relieve some of the pressure and prevent serious inju
ry.
“You okay there, bubba?” Izzy asked with a girlish laugh.
“No, I’m not fucking okay. Shouldn’t have offered to eat you out. Shoulda told you I was gonna fuck you instead.”
“Well,” she said, tilting her head and grasping his cock through his boxer briefs. “I’m open to a change in plans.”
“Nope,” he said, dropping to his knees and ripping her shorts down her legs, making her squeal in shock. “I’m a man of my word. I’ll deal.”
“Jesus, Jig,” she whispered as she stared down at him.
He wrapped his hands around her thighs, just above her knees, then slid all the way up her legs. Eyes on her, he inhaled the sharp scent of her arousal then took a long lick through the dripping folds of her pussy.
“Holy shit,” she breathed.
Keeping his eyes on hers, Jig glided his thumbs inward until they met just over the hood of her clit. He lifted the hood, fully exposing the swollen nub, then blew on it. Izzy’s entire body jerked, and she gasped. The moment the breath left her lungs, he latched on to her clit and sucked with enough force to have her screaming his name.
Always greedy for more, Izzy gasped and shoved her fingers into his hair, holding him against her. Jig struggled to keep his lips wrapped around her clit when they were trying so hard to smile.
His warrior-queen had him at her mercy, and he loved every fucking second of it.
Maybe one day, a decade from now, he’d tell her how he viewed her.
For now, it was his own private Izzy-fueled fantasy. And it was perfect.
EPILOGUE
“HOW DID THIS happen? Shell, I just don’t understand it. How on earth did this happen?” Izzy banged her head against the table and made a fake crying noise. Mostly, she did it to hide the actual sob that clogged her throat.
Shell chuckled and rubbed a hand up and down Izzy’s back. “I’m pretty sure you know exactly how this happened, hon.”
Izzy lifted her head and glared at her friend. “No. I do not get it. Please explain it to me.”
“Okay, I’ll do my best. Let the seventh-grade health lesson commence.” She straightened and lifted both her hands. With her left, she formed her thumb and forefinger into a circle. With her right, she held up her pointer.
“You see,” she said, smirking. “This is you.” Biting her upper lip, Shell wiggled the circle. “And this is him.” She wagged the pointer finger. “Boys have a pee-pee and girls have a hooha. If you like a boy, sometimes you let him stick his pee-pee into your hooha.” She demonstrated with her hands. “With me so far?”
Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Yes,” she said in a droll tone.
“It feels good,” Shell continued, wiggling her finger in the circle. “Then it feels really good, and the man explodes, sending out lots of sperm into you. Those sperm—”
“Shell!” Izzy cried, laughing despite herself. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Oh, well, then the answer is easy. How many times have you done it without a condom?” She gave Izzy a look she often reserved for Beth in times of misbehavior.
“Uh, since we both got tested…” Izzy’s face heated. “Maybe…four,” she whispered.
Shell threw back her head and laughed until she saw Izzy’s glower, then she sobered. “Okay, I’m sorry, honey, but I’m going to say something you’re not going to like. If you weren’t willing to risk getting pregnant, why did you guys have sex without a condom.”
“Oh, you say it like it’s so easy now, but you weren’t there. That man makes me crazy. Melts my brain.”
“He is rather delicious,” Shell said with a sigh.
What the hell was she going to do? Izzy’s stomach rolled at the thought of bringing this up to Jig. She wanted to vomit, and that was saying something since there couldn’t possibly be a single thing left in her body to vomit after the hour spent riding the porcelain bus that morning.
“Jig does not want kids, Shell. You know. It’s only been a few months that he’s even been able to be in the presence of Beth without getting hives. And I didn’t want them either.”
Shell cocked her head and sipped her drink.
Oh, sweet bourbon, how I’ll miss you. For nine freakin’ months.
“You didn’t want them? As in you do now?”
“Well, no, yes, I don’t know. I’m all confused ever since I found out I’m pregnant.”
“I’m gonna make this easy for you,” Shell said as she stood and grabbed Izzy’s hand. Pulling her to her feet, Shell dragged Izzy to Jig’s closed office door. “You’re going in there and you’re going to tell him right now.”
An icy fear washed over her, and she shook her head, taking a step back. “No, Shell, I can’t. Now isn’t the time. It’s Copper’s birthday party for fuck’s sake.”
“Nuh uh.” Shell stopped Izzy’s backward progression with a tug to her hand. “Izzy Monroe is not a coward, so get your ass in there. Get it over with so you don’t have to sit here all night freaking out. Besides, someone is going to ask why you aren’t drinking.”
Shit. Shit.
Shell was right. She fought in the ring. She was a tattoo artist. A badass bitch.
“I need a bucket. I’m gonna be sick.”
“No, you’re not. You're just a baby. Who’s carrying a baby.” Shell laughed at her own joke, and Izzy made a mental note to put pepper in her drink later on. “All right, good luck!” Shell knocked on Jig’s door, kissed Izzy’s cheek, then darted away with a cheerful wave.
“No, Shell, wait, I— Hey, Jig,” she said as he pulled open the door.
He frowned and stepped aside so she would walk in. “What’s going on? You’re wearing the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. You lose a bet or something?”
Izzy swallowed. It was now or never. There was a good chance this would be it. She loved Jig more than she’d ever thought it was possible to love another human being. And she believed he loved her. Yet, a teeny tiny part of her was still fearful he would one day abandon her.
And now, when he was facing the one thing he feared the most, it might just be that time. But she had to tell him. There was no other option.
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, then slapped a hand over her mouth and burst into tears.
She didn’t have to tell him like that.
JIG BLINKED.
Then blinked again.
What? First off, Izzy was crying. Izzy didn’t cry. Ever.
And did she say…?
Holy shit. Izzy was pregnant.
It took a few more seconds before his brain kicked in enough to realize he was being a bag of dicks and letting his pregnant ol’ lady cry in his office while he stood there gaping.
“Holy shit, Izzy,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him.
As he rubbed her back and let her hormones go apeshit, he waited for the feeling. The chest-constricting panic. The mental block that hadn’t let him so much as be in the same room as Beth for so long. The repetitive what-ifs tapping at his brain like a woodpecker.
None of it came.
Instead, he saw a little girl with ink-black hair, bright blue eyes, and a kick-ass attitude running around, giving him and Izzy hell.
He saw Izzy, panting through contractions and cursing up a blue streak, calling him every name in the book and threatening to withhold her pussy for the rest of their lives.
He saw a boy, kneeling beside him, watching him work on his bike with rapt attention.
He saw his woman, waddling around with a rounded belly, wearing leather maternity pants and attempting to stuff her swollen feet into those damn heels she loved so much.
He saw them. As a family.
With children.
“Izzy,” he crooned, rubbing circles on her back. “Baby, it’s okay.”
She sniffed and lifted her head. Black tracks ran down her face, and he tried to wipe them away, but just made them worse, giving her a true raccoon look.
Still the most beautiful woman ar
ound.
“You didn’t want this. You told me straight out you couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever have another child.”
He had, and that was a shame he’d feel for a long time. “Well, then I shouldn’t have fucked you all those times without a condom.”
Izzy tried to laugh, but it mostly came out as a hiccup. “That’s what Shell said.”
“She’s pretty wise. She’s a mother, too, you know.”
“I didn’t think you’d react like this. I thought—” She shook her head and rested her cheek on the soaked T-shirt covering his chest.
“You thought I’d freak the fuck out and ditch you. Really, Iz? After everything? You still think I’m gonna cut and run the second shit gets dicey?”
She swallowed and shook her head. “No. I know you won’t. I just had a momentary lapse and panicked.”
It was rare, but every once in a while, her eyes shone with a vulnerability that broke his heart. Izzy’s childhood was shit and had shaped her into the distrustful woman she was. They’d made so much progress over the past few months, but he couldn’t begrudge her a few demons sneaking in every now and again.
“I love you, Isabella, and I will love this child just as much.”
She swallowed, tears filling her eyes once again. “God, Jig, I love you, too. So much. I can’t even remember what my life was like before you, and I never want to think about it without you.”
“You’ll never have to, baby. You’re stuck with me for good. Guess this means you’re going to have to marry me.”
“What?” She gasped. “Jig, no, you don’t have to do that. I know you never want—”
He covered her mouth with his palm. “I didn’t want. But then I met you. And I want you. I want you every day of my life. And I want every motherfucker out there to know it. So, Isabella Monroe, will you and our baby have me and my crazy MC family for the rest of your lives?” He’d planned to ask her sometime down the road. But why should he wait? He wasn’t going anywhere and never planned to let her get away from him. It was time to lock it down.
“God, Jig. Yes, yes I’ll marry you.” The tears spilled out, and she rubbed them away with angry strokes. “Fucking hormones.”