[Men of Inked 01.0 - 03.0] Volume 1

by Chelle Bliss

  “You okay, Michael?” My hand stilled in his hair.

  “I can smell you,” he said hoarsely.

  “Dick,” I said as I swatted his back. “You had me freaked out, and you’re being a pig.”

  His body shook as his laughter grew and filled the room. “I’d rather pound your tight, wet pussy than beat this guy's face to a pulp right now.” His fingers slid against the edge of my panties and stopped.

  “You can have me all night long after you win your match. The quicker you end it, the sooner you’ll have me in your bed,” I said with a shaky breath.

  His finger glided across the satin material of my underwear and rubbed against my clit. My breath caught in my throat as I stood before him, lost in his touch.

  “We have a few minutes, and I know just how I want to spend them,” he said, wrapping his other arm around my waist.

  His fingers dipped inside my panties as I fisted his hair and closed my eyes. My head tipped back as he brought me to the brink of orgasm. My body swayed as his grip increased, steadying me.

  My calves stung from the tension and the orgasm that was just out of reach. I opened my legs as far as possible in the restrictive skirt and leaned into his touch.

  “You want to come?” he asked roughly.

  “Yes,” I pleaded.

  “After I kick some ass.” He smirked, removing his hand from my panties and dragging the wetness down my leg.

  “Fuck,” I muttered.

  “Doesn’t feel so good, does it, doc?” He laughed before sticking his fingers in his mouth, licking them clean.

  I glared at him. It was funny when I did it to him. To leave me like this now felt downright cruel.

  “You’re a bastard.”

  My entire body had been tense, and he had made it so much worse. I was wound so tight at this point I worried walking would cause me to orgasm. I ached that badly.

  He patted my ass as he stood and wrapped me in his arms. The warmth of his naked flesh seared through my thin silk camisole. “We’ll finish after I win. I want to take my time with you tonight.”

  I rubbed my cheek against the smooth skin of his pec. “I should hate you right now, but I can’t.”

  “You two done in there?” Rob yelled, knocking on the door.

  “He’s a pain in the ass,” I said, sighing against his chest.

  “I know.” He kissed the top of my head, burying his nose in my hair. “Yeah, come in.”

  Rob plopped down on the couch across the room and watched us.

  “I better go, Michael. You have to get ready and I need to find my seat.” I peered up at him, getting a last look of his beautiful face. I worried it would be bloody and bruised the next time I touched it.

  “I’ll text Izzy to meet you in the corridor.” His kiss burned my lips as he crushed his mouth against mine. “Thanks, Mia, for coming.” The smug asshole winked. “I know you hate the very idea, but you being here means a lot to me.”

  “No other place I’d rather be.” I slid my hand down his arm, moving away from him. “Oh, and Michael?”

  “Yes.”

  “Kick his ass, handsome,” I said, trying to help him relax.

  He winked, and his smile made my heart melt.

  Fuck, I hated the thought of that beautiful face being hit. I hated everything about what was about to unfold before my eyes.

  I waved to him with a faint smile as I left. I could hear the cheers of the crowd echo through the corridor backstage. I followed the noise, finding Izzy waiting for me near the arena entrance.

  Her mouth moved as she waved for me to follow her, but it was so loud I couldn’t hear her words. I smiled and nodded before following her to the seating area.

  “Down front,” Izzy yelled in my ear, as I looked around the arena.

  The crowd was larger than I would have expected for a MMA match. Not everyone had such great disdain for the sport as I did. I hated the idea of two men beating the crap out of each other for a title, but I promised Michael I’d be here.

  The entire Gallo family, with the exception of Mrs. Gallo, sat in the front row, looking as anxious as I felt.

  “I found her,” Izzy said as we sat down.

  They were a stunning family. The men were all cut from the same cloth. Handsome, rugged, and muscular, and the sister was a spitfire. Even Mr. Gallo was classically handsome and didn’t show his age.

  “It’s nice to see you again, doc,” Joe said, a couple of seats away.

  “Call me Mia, please. I see you’re getting around better these days.”

  “Physical therapy works wonders. I wouldn’t miss this fight for the world. Suzy would have had my balls if I didn’t bring her tonight.” He turned and kissed her cheek as she kept her eyes glued to the cage.

  “Hello, my dear,” Mr. Gallo said, taking my hand, planting a soft kiss on it. “You’ve missed some matches already.”

  I winced as I watched them clean the floor. There was blood and sweat everywhere. “This isn’t my idea of entertainment, Mr. Gallo. I’m only here for Michael,” I said, trying to stop my stomach from spilling its contents. “Where’s Mrs. Gallo?”

  “Oh, she hates the very idea of him fighting. She stayed home tonight to read. So, how’s he doing? Is he ready?” he asked.

  I shrugged as butterflies filled my stomach. I hoped he was ready, because I really couldn’t take watching him being beaten. “He seemed pretty calm when I left him to finish preparing.”

  Our conversation was interrupted as the announcer spoke: “Ladies and gentleman, the main event you’ve all been waiting for is about to begin.”

  The crowd stood, and the screaming made my eardrums throb. Loud music began to play, and I knew it was Michael’s song, “Bodies” by Drowning Pool. It had been playing in his dressing room before I left. I covered my ears as I stood, facing the back of the arena.

  “Weighing in at 260 pounds, I give you the one, the only, Michael ‘The Iceman’ Gallo.”

  The crowd screamed before chanting, “Ice Man, Ice Man.”

  Michael wore a black silk robe as he entered through the dark curtain and started to walk down the aisle. The crowd went crazy, and people tried to grab him on his way down the ramp into the arena. Bloodcurdling screams from female fans professing their love to him made me laugh. I could see how this could be an adrenaline rush.

  I had the perfect vantage point to watch him. I stood with one leg in the aisle and leaned over to watch him. He stared straight ahead, as he walked with his shoulders pushed back, looking bigger than ever. His lips were set in firm line, and there was no happiness in his eyes. The sparkle had been replaced with fierceness. He looked mean as hell, but I knew the real man underneath.

  Michael held his fists up to the crowd as he stopped in front of me, turning to face them. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye as a small smirk danced on his lips, but quickly vanished.

  The excitement of the moment wasn’t lost on me.

  He walked into the cage, stopping dead in the center. He shrugged off the robe, exposing his beautiful physique and breathtaking face. The cheers grew louder, mainly from the females, as he stood there bouncing up and down, moving his neck from side to side.

  I wanted to run into the cage and jump in his arms and beg him not to fight.

  “And now we bring you his opponent. Weighing in at 257 pounds, we give you Tommy ‘The Heat’ Ramirez.”

  All eyes in the arena turned as a man in a red robe emerged. He looked almost as big as Michael, but scarier, maybe because I didn’t know him like I did Michael.

  I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, and my chest began to ache.

  Both of these men would leave bloody and bruised before this was all said and done. I worried about Michael getting hurt, and his male ego if he lost.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Izzy said, pulling on my arm.

  “Captivating and scary as hell,” I responded before turning back to watch “The Heat” enter the cage and mimic Michael’s pr
evious movements.

  “He’s going to kick Tommy’s ass,” Izzy said as she stared at the fighter.

  “I hope so.” I gnawed on my lip as I watched Michael size up the competition.

  He was ready, and chomping at the bit to get his hands on the guy.

  People jumped up and down as the men readied themselves for the fight. I sat there almost breathless and scared for what would unfold before my eyes.

  Both men stood in the middle of the cage, staring each other down. It would be comical if I didn’t understand the brutality that was about to happen.

  I was transfixed as I studied Michael’s every movement.

  The men touched hands before the referee screamed, “Let’s get it on.” Before he moved out of the way quickly.

  Ramirez lunged at Michael and kicked him in the thigh. I could hear the snap of the skin from the impact. I closed my eyes, cringing, before peeking to see what happened next.

  Michael seemed unfazed by the strike, hitting him back with an elbow to the face. Ramirez’ face lurched back before he shook it off and steadied himself. The men moved around the cage exchanging kicks and jabs, and I could feel the lump inside my throat growing larger. I touched my throat, resting my hand there as I stared at Michael.

  Michael looked magnificent as he moved around the cage and kept pace with Ramirez. He backed Ramirez against the fencing, holding him in place, striking him with the meaty part of his palm square in the chin. I grimaced when I saw blood drip from the corner of his mouth.

  Michael wrapped his arms around the man’s lower half and picked him up, tossing him to the mat.

  I stood, my heart hammering in my chest, praying it would end.

  “Hey, lady, you’re blocking my view,” a man behind me yelled.

  I turned around and glared at him before taking my seat. “The Heat” kicked Michael right in the balls. Fuck. Holding himself, Michael backed away, trying to regain his composure.

  I had no idea what that felt like, but shit, it had to hurt.

  Michael came back at Ramirez a moment later, with more anger than I had seen before. Ducking down, he swept his leg across the mat, knocking Ramirez on his ass.

  I gnawed on my lip, but I couldn’t look away. Seeing Michael in action, I knew he was made for this. He was a fighter.

  Snaking his legs around the man, he held him in place. Ramirez beat on Michael’s back, wiggling like a worm, but he couldn’t get out of the hold. Michael slammed his fist into the man’s face, and I watched in horror as it bounced off the mat.

  Blood trickled down his chin as Michael held him in his grip.

  “He’s winning,” Izzy said as she stood, screaming, “Kill ’em Michael!”

  I held my breath and prayed it was over.

  “Ice Man, Ice Man,” the crowd chanted as they rose to their feet.

  Ramirez kicked free, both men jumping to their feet.

  Fuck, it wasn’t over. I exhaled, feeling lightheaded, as Ramirez struck Michael in the ribs. He winced, leaning forward and running his fingers across the spot.

  I shook my head, scared that it could be the end for Michael. He had fractured those ribs months ago. They were vulnerable.

  Michael straightened and bounced, shaking off the pain before spinning and kicking Ramirez right in the face. His head snapped back as blood flew from his mouth before he fell backward onto the mat.

  The crowd stood and began to cheer again as Michael moved around the unconscious Ramirez and yelled something at him.

  I stood, gripping my neck, and waited for it to be over.

  Grabbing Michael’s arm, the referee held it up as Michael pumped his fist in the air with a giant smile on his face.

  “It’s over?” I asked, as I grabbed Izzy’s hand.

  “It is. He won! That guy never stood a chance against him.” She smiled.

  Michael looked like a champion. He was one. I closed my eyes and let out the breath I’d been holding in.

  A small cut had formed on the side of his left eyebrow and blood oozed down his face, but he looked relatively unharmed. His body glistened under the bright lights, showing off each ridge and valley.

  A giant grin crept across Michael’s face as he walked toward us. He looked at his family and then to me as he approached. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he smashed me into his sweaty torso and kissed me.

  I collapsed against his body, exhausted from the nervous tension.

  Pulling away, he stared into my eyes and said, “That wasn’t so bad was it, doc?”

  “I fucking hated every minute of it, Michael.”

  “Liar.” He smirked and turned toward his father.

  The simple statement and the cocky smirk reminded me of the bar where we had officially met each other. Same statement, same smirk, and totally Michael.

  His dad held out his hand and grabbed Michael’s shoulder with the other. “Good job, son.”

  “Thanks, Pop,” Michael said as he pulled his dad toward him, kissing his cheek.

  The tenderness Michael showed his father was a strange juxtaposition to the cruelty he’d displayed in the ring.

  “Couldn’t be prouder.” His dad slapped him on the back and released him.

  Joe and Anthony hugged him as I stayed at his side. Suzy kissed him on the cheek. I watched in awe at the amount of love and support that his family gave him.

  After he hugged his family, he turned to me, pulling me tightly against him. The dampness of his skin soaked through my clothes, but I didn’t care. He was safe and the fight was over.

  “I have to go clean up. You want to come with”—he cocked an eyebrow—“or wait here with my family?”

  I touched the open cut near his eye, causing him to jerk away. “You go get patched up and I’ll sit with them until you’re done.”

  “I’ll be right back, beautiful. You’ll come to the next one, right? I know you secretly loved it.”

  “It’s still barbaric,” I said against his lips.

  “I bet if I touched your panties right now they’re as wet as my skin,” he whispered in my ear, causing me to squeeze my legs together.

  I shook my head and laughed. “You’ll have to take me home to find out, won’t you?” I smirked.

  “You just gave me the perfect reason to make this quick.” He kissed me tenderly and walked away. “I’m keeping them as a souvenir too,” he yelled over his shoulder.

  I collapsed in my seat, exhausted. I couldn’t imagine how he felt.

  Mr. Gallo took the seat next to me and smiled. “How are you doing, my dear?”

  I gave him a small smile. “It’s a lot to take in, but I’m doing okay, considering.”

  “Ah, it’s thrilling and scary. I get it. Seems like yesterday Michael was just a little boy. He was always a scrapper.” He punched the air. “I always had to pull him off his brothers. He was a rough one, a born fighter.”

  “I can’t imagine him as a little boy, but I’m sure he was handful, Mr. Gallo.” I laughed.

  He looked so proud as he sat there staring at the cage. “He was never a small boy, but he’s grown up into a fine young man. Anyway, Michael told me he’s already hired a crew to start the renovations at the clinic. When do you start there full-time?”

  “He has, and I’m so excited. I start next week after my time is over at the hospital. I can’t thank you and your family enough for everything.”

  “You need to thank Michael. It was all his doing. My wife and I always like to help out community organizations. What good is having money if you can’t help those that need it most?” He smiled, genuine and sweet.

  I held his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Gallo. I’ll make you proud.”

  He patted my leg and stood. “I have no doubts, my dear. I’ll be right back,” he said, smiling, and walked away.

  A hand gently touched my shoulder, and I turned expecting to see Michael, but it wasn’t him. I swatted the hand away and stood to escape his reach.

  “Excuse me,” I said, crossing my arms
across my chest.

  “Sorry, a pretty lady sitting here all by yourself made me curious.” His eyes moved over my body.

  “Um,” I said as I looked around for someone to rescue me, but no one was looking in my direction. “I’m not here alone.”

  “Oh,” he said as he looked around the arena.

  “I’m here with Michael.”

  “Really?” he asked, scratching his goatee.

  “Really,” I said, tilting my head.

  A hand landed on the man’s shoulder as he turned quickly to come eye to eye with Michael.

  “You bothering my girl, Torrez?” Michael crossed his arms over his chest, giving the man a cold, hard stare.

  “Maybe I was—whatcha gonna do about it, Gallo?” Torrez stood, placing his hands on his hips.

  “Kick your ass like last time.” Michael broke out into laughter.

  Torrez punched him in the shoulder. “I let your sorry ass win that match.”

  “Fucking liar.”

  “Wanna go for another round?”

  “You’re more worthy of my time than the pissant I fought today. Mia, this is ‘The Mauler,’” Michael said, using air quotes and rolling his eyes.

  Now it kind of made sense to me. I had seen him before—he was the guy Michael fought in NYC.

  “Don’t you two hate each other?” I asked.

  “Nah, we went for beers after the match in NYC,” Torrez said as he shook Michael’s hand. “It’s good to see you, man.”

  “Just remember Mia’s mine, Torrez. I’d hate to embarrass you by kicking your ass in public again.” Michael grinned, holding back a laugh.

  “Wait, I don’t think I ever said I was yours,” I said.

  “Possession, remember,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. “You’re mine.”

  I bit my lip. I was proud to be called his…he was a man with the iron fists and a warm heart. Michael Gallo could call me anything he wanted, as long as he spent his nights in my bed.

  27

  Mia

  Liberating. That was how it felt knowing I didn’t have to work in the ER anymore. I walked in and quit, not wanting to spend another day working there. Michael’s family had found donors and used their own money to have me be the clinic physician on a full-time basis.