POSSESSIVE
BOSTON
IRISH AMERICAN
MMA FIGHTER
AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
_______________________
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 77
FLORA FERRARI
CONTENTS
Copyright
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Series
Newsletter
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2018 by Flora Ferrari.
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
Book 1: Baby Lust
Book 2: Veteran
Book 3: Built
Book 4: Bambino
Book 5: Rescued
Book 6: Leader
Book 7: Professor
Book 8: Burned
Book 9: Worldly
Book 10: Pistol
Book 11: Policed
Book 12: Driven
Book 13: Lucky 13
Book 14: Lumberjacked
Book 15: Protector
Book 16: Carpenter
Book 17: Italian Stallion
Book 18: Gardener
Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin
Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter
Book 21: Cocky CFO
Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th
Book 23: Mechanic
Book 24: SEAL’s Secret
Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch
Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée
Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina
Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter
Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy
Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol
Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess
Book 32: Statham
Book 33: Bodyguard
Book 34: Greek God
Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter
Book 36: Mountain Man
Book 37: SEAL’s Justice
Book 38: Royal Romance
Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery
Book 40: Crocodile Dan D
Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby
Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby
Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter
Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door
Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace
Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée
Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny
Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter
Book 49: Steamy
Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend
Book 51: Possessive Professor
Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter
Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby
Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day
Book 55: Doctor Next Door
Book 56: Possessive Policeman
Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter
Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter
Book 59: Virgin in New York
Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby
Book 61: Possessive Protector
Book 62: Possessive Australian
Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother
Book 64: Possessive Cowboy
Book 65: Summer Romanced
Book 66: Possessive Prince
Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy
Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend
Book 69: Possessive Firefighter
Book 70: Football Next Door
Book 71: Doctor December
Book 72: Possessive Canadian
Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire
Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop
Book 75: Possessive Brazilian
Book 76: Hockey Obsession
Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter
Book 78: Halloween Next Door
POSSESSIVE BOSTON IRISH AMERICAN MMA FIGHTER
My brother’s best friend is a Boston Irish American older man.
He possesses an undefeated record as an MMA fighter, but the moment he lays eyes on me he tells me the only thing he’s interested in possessing now is me.
And when this younger woman witnesses him take part in a fight for the first time the barbaric violence shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. He’s a real man amongst boys in and out of the octagon, and I’m ready to be his woman, and for the first time in my life I know I’m ready for another kind of first time…with him.
But before my brother’s best friend is able to tell my brother about what’s going on between us, he finds out the hard way, making him feel like he’s been sucker punched by his best friend.
Can my possessive Boston Irish American older man prove to my brother that what we have is real and that this MMA fighter will fight harder than he ever has inside the octagon, outside of it…for me?
Or will my brother do his best to make sure my brother’s best friend’s beautiful Irish eyes aren’t smiling by threatening him with violence of his own, causing me to get caught in the middle of two possessive older men…one my flesh and blood family and the other I want nothing more than to start my own family with knowing what we have will last forever.
But how can I bring myself to come between my brother and my brother’s best friend? Will I be forced into a split decision of my own…choosing between them with my choice causing heartache one way or the other…forever?
*Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
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CHAPTER 1
Gavin
“Gavin, if you win this fight who do you want next?”
“Didn’t I see you at my last fight, Bruce?” I ask the uninitiated reporter who’s one of hundreds from all around the globe. They’re all here for the same thing. To hear the bold claims and guarantees that always come out of my mouth at these things.
But this is different. This is Boston. This is the TD Garden. This is home.
I’m from Sou
th Boston, or Southie as it’s known, and if this son of a bitch is gonna challenge me in my own backyard then he’s going to get broke off.
“Yes, I was there,” he says.
“Did you have your eyes closed?”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s no excuse for you. Or your stupid fucking question. I obliterated Andujar with a first round knockout before you even had your unprofessional ass, and that half pint of Modelo Especial you had in your hand, in your seat. See, Bruce, I see everything. That’s why I’m the fucking champ and you’re sitting there asking me stupid questions as quickly as they pop into that thick skull of yours. If I win this fight? Hassan will fall in the first round just like all the others, if not quicker.”
I stare him down letting him, and all these other journalists know that I may be here to promote my fight, sure, but I’m not fucking around here.
“See Bruce, this is Boston. This is my home. These are my people. Working class Irish people. If you knew anything about me, or took the time to learn, you would already know how this fight is going to end.”
I pause and ol’ Bruce there looks like he’s gonna need a change of underwear real soon, but I’m not letting him off the hook just yet.
“As you can see just by looking at my opponent,” I say keeping my eyes focused on Bruce, “his right hand is twitching, and when it’s not twitching he’s balling it into a fist, if you can call that little pussy’s hand a fist.”
Hassan jumps from his table and the president of our fighting organization, Dan, jumps in-between us.
“See right there, Bruce. He’s over aggressive. I’m already so deep inside his head I can tell you the nightmare’s he’s been having about me each and every night since this fight was announced. And I can tell you what else he sees. He thinks he’s going to ‘shut me up’ with that big right hand of his, but that’s where his nightmare always gets even worse…with him waking up in a cold sweat. See when he goes to unload that overaggressive right hand I will not be there, and he knows it. I am like a ghost and he is like a zombie. A mindless zombie who will walk right into the trap I set for him, but he’ll be too far gone to see them. He will overextend and he will be punished. See that’s the thing. The twenty-four “opponents” of mine that came before him? Some overextended...reaching too far trying to shut me up with an oversized punch which left them in a defenseless position which I immediately capitalized on. Some shrunk into nothingness, but either way the result is the same. Complete and utter domination,” I say.
I pause and now I can literally hear Hassan’s hand spasming off the table that is a good ten feet from me.
“So the question you should have asked, and I will ask it for you since you can’t even do that right, is when I beat Hassan who do I want next? And the answer to that question is…”
Suddenly I see a late arriving journalist in the back as I feel my grip on the microphone in my hand loosen.
I do everything I can to keep my eyes on Bruce, but the one and only creature on this planet who can bring me to my knees has just entered. I don’t even need to look at her directly.
Why? I know all her mannerisms.
You think I study boxers hard? Well I’ve studied her a million times harder.
The way she moves. The way her hair sways in the wind. The way her hips swing as her back arches as her bubble butt moves in a way that I can only describe as angelic, and angelic is a word someone like me never uses. It’s against everything I stand for.
And right now if I had to stand I couldn’t. My cock is immediately rock hard just at the knowledge that she’s in the same room as me…for the first time in four years. I swear I can even smell her. When it comes to her I’m like a shark. I could pick up one drop of her scent out in the vastness of ocean.
And I also swear on everything that’s good in this world that over these past four years she has filled out like a motherfucker.
Damn!
The way she fills out that virginal white blouse. The way those slacks fit her athletic legs. The way her long, golden blond hair falls on her shoulders and down her back. The way her blue eyes call me, but I can’t break my concentration on this question, giving my opponent hope that I may not be as focused and intense as I’m famous for.
But now there’s a new question. An even more important one that gives me hope of my own and takes my focus and intensity to a level that even I have never experienced.
It’s like the entire world stopped the moment she walked in.
Who?
My best friend’s little sister.
The only girl who is completely off limits.
In Southie you live and die by your word, by your honor.
Family is everything and relationships are real.
We don’t just help each other move apartments on Saturday mornings when the time calls for it. We move mountains for each other every fucking day of our lives.
You lose your job? You’re moving in with me until your back on your feet. No questions asked and I won’t take no for an answer.
You haven’t eaten? Here, have my sandwich I already ate earlier…whether I did or not.
And I did eat just before this press conference, but I didn’t feed.
Feed my appetite for her. I’ve wanted to devour her for four years. Four long damn years since her high school graduation party.
I didn’t see her a whole lot when she was growing up, and it didn’t matter then because she was just a kid. But when I went to that party something had changed and it wasn’t just the fact that she was eighteen then.
She had become a woman.
It happens in Southie. You grow up quick or you get sucked in…down and under.
But right now the only thing I can think about is going down and under and sucking her clit into my mouth while I stick my tongue so far inside her it forms a red carpet straight to her G-Spot as she lets her juices flow right into my mouth as I drink in her sweetness.
“Her!” I say and my other hand points directly at her, but just as the crowd turns to look towards the back of the room she slides sideways disappearing just as quickly as she came.
I swore I’d never pursue her. I swore I’d never let anything come between me and her brother Grady. I swore I’d never enter their home, or her world, ever again.
But this is different. She entered my world of her own free will which means all bets are off.
And that means one thing above all others.
I will find her and pursue her with every last ounce of strength I have in my body, and until the end of time if I have to, until she is mine.
And she will be mine.
CHAPTER 2
Gracie
“Oh. My. God,” I say as I plop down on the couch of my four hundred and eighty foot studio apartment in Southie not far from where I’ve lived my entire life.
But I promised myself once I graduated from Boston University's College of Communication I’d move out and get my own place, no matter how small, unventilated, or lacking in other ways that it was.
But I’d never leave Southie.
Because of him.
I’ve had a crush on him since before I even knew what a crush was. And my feelings for him have never waned.
It’s even the reason I studied journalism at the College of Communication in the first place. I’d imagined traveling around the world with him as he won fights and I was there by his side to congratulate him first, and get exclusive interviews.
Interviews that no other journalist could get because they couldn’t get close to him. Because they didn’t know him the way I did.
Because they weren’t from here, like us.
Because their brother isn't his best friend like mine.
But college had been more difficult than I expected, but not due to the course load. Because I was always thinking of him. When I was given an assignment I always imagined it was real and that my assignment was him.
And today it was.
When I l
earned a few weeks ago that the press conference was scheduled for today I’d scraped together every single penny I had to my name, and by scraped together I mean I’d applied for and gotten another credit card with one of those terrible interest rates, and bought my boss an all-inclusive spa package. I’d even made the booking myself making sure the treatments and pampering lasted all morning and afternoon.
And then I tipped the salon a hundred dollars extra to do one extra thing that I knew would happen, and it did right on cue.
When my boss Brenda realized her much anticipated day trip to the spa “just happened to be” scheduled on the same day of the press conference she called the spa and asked to change the date.
And just as they’d promised they told her they had nothing available for the next three months so she relented and went, and of course I volunteered to go hang out in the journalist pit for the sexiest man alive to ever come out of Boston, or Ireland, in years. The man who if you could combine famous Bostonians Marky Mark Wahlberg, in his Calvin Klein underwear days, and Edward Norton, with that body he had in American History X, you’d still fall short of the ripped Adonis that is Gavin McGregor.
Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 77) Page 1