Committed (The MMA Romance Series - Book #5)

by Alycia Taylor

  COMMITTED

  THE MMA NEW ADULT ROMANCE SERIES

  By Alycia Taylor

  Copyright 2014. All rights reserved.

  Get Future New Releases In This Series For 99 Cents

  And

  Read Part 1 - Consumed (The MMA Romance Series - Book #1)

  Read Part 2 - Devoured (The MMA Romance Series - Book #2)

  Read Part 3 - Addicted (The MMA Romance Series - Book #3)

  Read Part 4 – Damaged (The MMA Romance Series – Book #4)

  Read Part 5 – Committed (The MMA Romance Series – Book #5)

  Read Part 6 - Devoted (The MMA Romance Series - Book #6)

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  CHAPTER ONE

  EMMI

  The lights of a car, or something, kept flashing through a crack in the blinds and waking me up. I was really tired; I didn’t want to wake up. Why were my blinds open? I always closed them at night. I started to roll over and get it out of my face but I realized I couldn’t move. That was when I remembered that I wasn’t in my own room, or my own bed. I was in Braxton’s bed and my arm was underneath him.

  It took me a minute to remember what had happened last night…or I suppose it was still tonight. It slowly started coming back to me though, Sarah taking our picture in the locker room after his fight. I was worried about what people were going to think if they saw that picture of us. They would likely think I was just another one of his one-night stands. That didn’t stop me from having sex with Braxton in the shower though.

  I smiled as I thought about how the night had ended. We’d barely gotten in the apartment door when he’d shoved me against the wall and kissed me. From there, we left a trail of clothes down the hallway and we’d fallen into his bed. The sex, as usual had been mind-blowing. As I rolled against him, Braxton shifted and rolled into me.

  “Mm, nice,” he said, burying his face in my breasts.

  “You’ve got me on the edge of the bed over here, pervert, how about a little room?”

  He laughed and rolled back over, pulling me with him.

  “I don’t know if I’m the only perv in the room, you jumped my bones last night.”

  He was right about that one. I’d gone to the locker room for exactly what I’d gotten. I snuggled back into him.

  “Your bones shouldn’t be so good looking and then I wouldn’t be such a pervert.”

  “Speaking of bones. I’ve got a pretty good boner going on right about now if you’re interested.”

  I laughed, but I couldn’t resist, I reached down and wrapped my hand around him. He wasn’t lying.

  As I began stroking it up and down slowly, he said, “See what you do to me?”

  I laughed again and said, “You know, it’s a scientific fact that morning wood is related to hormones, not who you’re with.”

  “You are such a romantic,” he said as he wrapped me up in his arms and covered my mouth with his. His kisses melted me. After feeling his lips and tongue against mine, I was putty in his hands. Even more convincing was the fact that as we kissed he took one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger and tweaked it until I could feel wetness between my thighs and a deep ache in my pussy again, like it hadn’t just been used by him twice in the past six hours or so.

  "Oh, my God,” I muttered, squirming underneath his weight. He moved his hand to my other nipple and gave it the same treatment, only this time he was pulling harder, making me moan.

  "You like that, baby?” he whispered against my lips.

  “Mm, yes I do…I love it. I want you. Now," I begged and then brushed my lips against his.

  "Mm, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he said, almost in a purr. “I hope you’re ready, because I’m going to make you writhe and moan and scream.”

  I couldn’t object. He was right.

  Braxton leaned down and licked one nipple, and then the other, finally sucking one all the way into his mouth. He used his tongue to trace around the outside of it and his teeth to scrape along the nipple. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it sent me into a gasping and groaning puddle of desire.

  “Oh God, Braxton, you’re killing me,” I breathed.

  He smiled and said, “Reach up and grab the headboard.”

  I didn’t question him. I knew by then that he knew what he was doing and I always loved it.

  “Now spread your legs apart for me, wide.”

  I did as he asked yet again. “You’re killing me, Brax, at least touch me—”

  Before I could finish he climbed up and straddled me. I could feel his cock pressing hard against my stomach as he leaned forward to kiss me. I let go of the headboard, I had to touch him. I took him in my hand and stroked him as we kissed. He slid his tongue in my mouth and I sucked on it as I increased the pace of my stroking. I felt him shudder. When he broke the kiss he moved his mouth down to the top of my shoulder and kissed it. Then he ran his tongue along my collarbone, making me gasp as I felt his mouth on my nipple. He encircled it playfully with his tongue and then sucked it into his mouth as he caressed the other one with his hand.

  After a few minutes, he smiled and looked at me. He moved over to the other breast, circling, tasting and sucking…sending me to another dimension in my mind. One where the only feeling that mattered was pure pleasure. I was writhing underneath him and I felt like I couldn’t stand it another second. I was going to have to start touching myself in a second if he didn’t.

  “Please, just fucking touch me.” I was begging and he gave in, dropping his hand down to my mound and covering it with his hand. He used one finger to part my lips and feel how wet I was.

  “Mm…Emmi.” He plunged a finger inside of me, causing me to moan louder and thrash against his hand, begging his finger to go deeper. He began stroking my clit and I was already right on the edge from the foreplay.

  "I’m going to come, Jesus!” I shrieked, barely able to work up enough breath to speak. “Don't stop, please."

  He completely ignored me and pulled his finger out and his hand away.

  "Please," I begged him in a hoarse voice.

  "What do you want, Emmi?” he asked me with a smile. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  He knew what I wanted; I don’t know why he was teasing me so much. I wanted to come, I needed it.

  “Suck me, lick me…make me come. You know what I want, Braxton!”

  Before I finished talking his mouth was on me. I could feel him spreading my lips with his tongue. I had to grab the headboard again because I kept sliding away from him. He finally reached underneath me and took my hips and pulled me up to his lips. He was lapping at me ferociously, like a starving man, sucking on my clit, nibbling on it, making me want to scream. I had to bite down on the pillow to keep from crying out so loud that the neighbors heard me. I spread my legs wider and let go of the headboard again and wrapped my hands through his hair, holding on tight.

  “Oh God, yes, Braxton. Oh God, that feels good. Don’t stop.”

  He didn’t stop, he licked and sucked some more and then plunged a finger into me again as he tongued my clit. I was so wet that he had no problem plunging in another and moving them in and out as he continued to suck on my swollen clit. I felt the orgasm building, I was so close.

  "Oh God. Oh my God!" is all I could utter. He plunged his fingers in and out faster, harder and deeper; his tongue flicking and sucking my clit until my moans sounded animalistic to my own ears. I finally stepped off the edge of the cliff, and I felt an orgasm shoot through every nerve in my body.

  “Oh my God! Oh, Braxton! Oh fuck!”

  My body shook uncontrollably as he lay down next to me and took me in
to his arms. Spasms of earthquake magnitude ripped through my body and Braxton held me and kissed my lips until I finally stopped shaking.

  He pushed himself up over me. Grabbing me by the hips, he flipped me over and then he leaned into my ear and I felt his hard cock pressing into me.

  “Get on your hands and knees,” he whispered.

  I did as he asked and he reached around and took my breasts in his hands. He plunged into me from behind and I was already out of breath from the orgasm, but that took away all that was left. He reached places inside of me that I didn’t even know existed. The force of his movements were throwing me forward and I had to take ahold of the sheet so we could get into a rhythm. Once we did, it was a mind-blowing experience.

  We rocked together like a perfectly choreographed dance and I could feel another orgasm taking hold of me just as I felt him begin to elongate inside of me. His whole body tensed up and he picked up his pace, pounding me from behind until at last he exploded. I felt a shuddering beginning deep within my core and expanding throughout my body as I had my second orgasm. We both collapsed and lay shivering together until he was able to move again. He put his arm around me and pulled me into his chest and we both eventually drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWO

  BRAXTON

  “They ever clean this place?” I said to Sam as I sat my bag down on the bench.

  “What’s the matter, princess, is a little sweat smell offensive to you?” Sam asked.

  “It smells like a hundred guys with no deodorant have been working out in here,” I told him. It was seriously making me want to throw up. It wasn’t usually so bad. There were only a few other guys in the gym at the moment, so I guessed that it just hadn’t been cleaned in a long while.

  I went over to the storage chest and sat down my water bottle and my wraps. I pulled off my T-shirt and then started wrapping my hands. Sam came over and took over. He never said, “Hey, kid, you need some help?” or even, “Here, let me do that.” He always just walked over and took it right out of my hands.

  Sam grabbed the wraps and said, “Hold out your hands.”

  I rolled my eyes. He talked to me like I was a little kid sometimes. He guided my thumb through the hole as if I didn’t know it went there and began to wind the yellow cloth around my hand. Two circles around the wrist and then over the thumb, five or six times around the knuckles, a crisscross between each finger and the reinforcement with what was left. It was like a mantra in my head and I had no problem doing it myself.

  As he wrapped the other hand he asked, “So how’s your girl?”

  I grinned and said, “What girl?”

  “The one who left the locker room soaking wet the other night. Either the two of you were—”

  “Okay, okay! She’s fine, Emmi’s fine.” It had never bothered me to talk about my conquests in the past, but Emmi was different. She wasn’t just some girl I was banging. I got the feeling Sam knew this and was just trying to goad me.

  “You ready to work out? Are you over your little hissy fit about the smell, Prima Donna?”

  I didn’t dignify him with an answer to that, I just rolled my eyes again and replied, “I’m ready, what are we doing today?”

  Sam slid a rope with two handles, alternating blue and red casings, off the ring floor and handed it to me.

  “We’re gonna work on that fancy footwork,” he told me. I grimaced; jumping rope was not my thing. Maybe because I wasn’t a twelve-year-old girl.

  He waited for me to get ready and then he pushed the button for the timer on the wall. As soon as it beeped I started jumping.

  I got into a rhythm and made myself focus on something else as I listened to the rope hit the floor. If I concentrated too much on jumping my feet tended to get all tangled up. I thought about my favorite thing…Emmi. Things had been going so well between us, finally. Although she still hadn’t talked to me about those three dreaded little words I blurted out.

  The buzzer went off and I stopped jumping.

  “Pretty good, been out in the park practicing with those little girls again, huh?” I didn’t know what I would do without Sam’s form of encouragement. He reached back into his little chest of tricks and pulled out a pair of red boxing gloves. Loosening the laces he held them out for me to put on. He hit the timer on the clock again.

  “All right, boy, let’s get to work.”

  I stood in front of the bag and waited for the buzzer to sound. When it did I took my first shot, a jab. Then I snapped my left hand back and brought both gloves to my face. I threw a right, feeling the automatic rotation in my feet and then snapped my hand back to my face as I watched the bag start to swing. It swung away from me and I stepped to the side before it came back. I threw a left, a left and a right and it swung away. I stepped to the other side and when it came back I threw a left, a right and a right.

  “Keep your chin down!” Sam shouted.

  The bag came back and I did it all again, keeping my chin down. The monotony of it relaxed and empowered me. I threw a left and then a right and Sam reminded me to get full extension. I loved the sound the gloves made when they slammed into the bag. Sometimes I thought when I graduated and got a real job, I was really going to miss this.

  “Two minutes,” Sam said, unnecessarily since the clock was huge and right in front of me. When the timer rang again, Sam asked, “You want water?”

  I nodded. I couldn’t do it myself with the gloves on. Sam grabbed the bottle and held it above my head. He dipped it so it flowed out and I got one gulp. I used to try and chug it, but that led to an ugly round of vomiting. Sam could have warned me about that but he didn’t. He always said that a lesson was better learned from experience.

  I leaned against the side of the ring for a ten-second break before he made me go again. When I did I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror that was nailed against the opposite wall. I knew some people thought I was full of myself, but I liked how powerful I looked. The cockiness helped me in the ring.

  When the buzzer sounded again I went back to the bag. I started with a jab, again. I always started with a jab. I went three more minutes; had a water break, another three minutes and one more break. Then Sam sent me over to the double end bag.

  I started out with a jab, as usual, and my shoulder screamed out in exhausted disgruntlement. The bag jittered around in front of me. This bag was for skill, not strength like the other one. I stood for a few seconds and watched it closely. If my timing was off I wouldn’t hit anything. I saw my chance and I threw a quick right and then a hook. Boom! Boom! The bag thrashed back and forth and I took a step and hit it with another right. Three more minutes and Sam let me take another break and then back at it again.

  We passed about an hour and a half switching workouts and having little rest periods in between.

  When he finally told me I could hit the showers he said, “But don’t leave when you’re done, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”

  “Who?”

  “Just go clean up and then you’ll see,” he said. Then with the grin he gets when he thinks he’s being funny he added, “We can’t have you adding to the terrible smell of this place, now can we, Princess?”

  When I came back out of the showers, Sam was sitting across from some guy in a suit. When I walked over the guy got to his feet and held out his hand.

  “Braxton, this is Scottie, the MMA promoter I was telling you about,” Sam said.

  I shook the guy’s hand and he said, “I’m glad to finally meet you, Braxton. I’ve heard nothing but good things. I was also at your last fight and I have to say, you blew me away.”

  “Thanks,” I said, looking questionably at Sam. Didn’t I already tell him I wasn’t interested in a career in this business?

  “Let’s have a seat and talk,” Scottie told me. We sat and he picked up a folder that was sitting next to him. “I talked to all the people who matter about you and showed them the videos that Sam sent me of your fights, we’re ready to off
er you a contract. I think you’ll find it pretty generous.”

  “Um, I’m not sure what to say. I haven’t really been thinking about doing this long-term.”

  “How old are you, Braxton?” Scottie asked me.

  “Twenty-one, almost twenty-two.”

  “You’re at your prime for this. If you’re good enough, and I think you are, you can retire for life in five years. The endorsements alone are worth a fortune.”

  I looked up at Sam. He was nodding like he thought this was a great idea. All I had ever thought was that I didn’t want to be doing this when I’m an old man. But damn was he persuasive. Retire at twenty-seven? I could travel and buy a house, or two. Callie would have everything she needed, and I could even help Emmi get her photography business off the ground.

  Scottie slid the contract over to me and said, “Once you sign it, you start getting paid. I’m telling you, I’ve been in this business for fifteen years and all I have to do is look at you and I know the endorsements will be pouring in so fast you’ll have to turn half of them down. They love the young studs like you.”

  “I looked through it, Braxton,” Sam said. “He’s not lying to you. They’re offering you a great deal.”

  I fanned through the pages, there were about ten of them. I thought about Emmi again, she wouldn’t be okay with me doing this long-term even if it meant helping her start her business. Neither would Callie for that matter. They both had already let me know how stupid they think fighting is.

  “Can I take it with me and look it over, and think about it for a few days?”

  Scottie looked at Sam, he was clearly disappointed but he said, “Sure, kid. Just call me by Wednesday and let me know what you decide. We have a spot to fill and if it’s not going to be with you, it’ll be someone else.”

  He gave me his card and I promised him I’d call in a day or two. Sam walked him out and when he came back he said, “It’s a great deal, Braxton.”

  “Worth getting the hell beat out of you on a routine basis?” I asked him.