Bad Boys of Chaos: The Complete Duet Boxset: Books 1-2

by Marie York

  I kicked the bag and ran my hands through my hair, trying to control the anger devouring me. Usually a few rounds on the bag helped, but tonight it wasn’t fucking working. I needed something else.

  I hit the showers, and even though I was trying to forget Brooklyn, the word husband kept popping into my head. Why didn’t she fucking tell me? Why the hell did she lead me on?

  “Dammit!” I yelled and punched the tile wall. I rested my forehead against the cold porcelain. Blood ran down my fingers, dripping and mixing with the water at my feet. I flexed my hand, wishing I punched Brooklyn’s husband in the face. Smug bastard he seemed to be. At least then I’d have some satisfaction.

  I pulled on the extra pair of clothes I kept in my locker and headed out to the local bar. Smitty’s was a shithole down the block, infested with drunks who should’ve been spending their nights at AA meetings, and whores with no respect for themselves. It was just what I needed to take mind off Brooklyn.

  The scent of cheap beer and even cheaper perfume greeted me as I opened the door and stepped inside. A few drunks sat at the far corner, snacking on bar pretzels, and a group of couples who looked like they belonged on “People of Walmart” were huddled around the only pool table. Two girls wearing skimpy dresses that I’d seen here a million times before swiveled in their stools. The brunette giggled as her bleached blonde friend gave me a wink.

  The blonde had hit on me in the past, but I always blew her off. Tonight, was her lucky night. I decided to finally give her what she’s always wanted, and what I needed at the moment. A quick hard fuck to release some of this pent-up shit, and help me get a certain somebody out of my system once and for all. I had more important things that I needed to focus on like my career and the upcoming fight. This little diversion was just what I needed to put me back on track.

  I didn’t immediately go in for the kill. Didn’t want to seem fucking desperate or pathetic like she looked, so I casually walked to the middle of the bar, pretending like I didn’t even notice her. I was a master at the game of cat and mouse, and she’d be begging for my cock in her pussy in no time.

  The bartender approached, and I ordered a beer. Before I could even glance over my shoulder and make a move, the blonde approached me, pushing her tiny tits in my face as she pretended to reach for the bowl of pretzels.

  “Hungry?” I asked as she purposely leaned closer and smiled. There was a gap in her teeth, wide enough to fit a chicken wing in, but I tried to focus on the things that mattered, and lowered my gaze to her tits. There was a handful there. Just enough, and she had a nice tight ass. Perfect for pounding against.

  “Always,” she purred.

  I turned into her and whispered against her ear. “How hungry are you right now?”

  Her overly glossed lips curved upward. “Famished.”

  I turned on the stool, snaked my arm around her, and pulled her tight against my thigh. She rubbed against me like a goddamned dog in heat. I usually had to put a little more work into a hookup, but this whore seemed ready to spread her legs. So, instead of wasting both of our time, I cut to the chase. “Meet me in the men’s room,” I suggested, and stood from my stool, downing my beer.

  She wrapped her fingers around the bottle before I could pull it from my lips, and she placed it on the bar. “Come on.”

  I narrowed my eyes, staring down at her hand, before I dragged them back up to her face. “Nobody tells me what to do,” I growled. “I make the rules.”

  Her gap teeth slipped over her bottom lip and she bit down. She clearly liked to be dominated. I bet she was already wet. Only one way to tell. It was time to get this show on the road.

  “Let’s go,” I said, and walked toward the bathrooms without even looking behind to see if she was following.

  The back of the bar was dark and dingier than the front. I opened the bathroom door and only then did I turn around. As I expected, she was right up my ass. I rested my hand against the frame, and let her duck under me to enter. She passed, and I slapped her ass, hard, resulting in a deep intake of breath on her part. I grabbed what little there was, and pushed her inside, pulling the door shut with me.

  Her scrawny arms wrapped around my neck, and her lips went right to mine, making me think about the only lips I ever cared to have on mine. Brooklyn’s.

  Dammit. Get out of my fucking head.

  I grabbed the girl’s hair, and plunged my tongue into her mouth without any warning. She tasted like cheap beer, and smelled like cheap perfume, but I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. She was a willing body and I needed to fuck. She’d have to do.

  She moaned, her body falling into mine. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Viper.” That’s what they all said, like I was some prize.

  “Stop talking,” I demanded. The last thing I wanted was to have a conversation with her. I tightened my grip on her hair, and pulled her away from my mouth, spinning her around, and bending her over the sink. I wanted to fuck her, not look at her face, or make out with her. I ran my hand up her leg and flipped her dress up over her ass.

  “Mmm, I like it rough,” she cooed.

  “I said, stop talking.” I slapped her ass, leaving a red handprint on her tanned skin. She let out a squeak then a moan. Her hand reached back, latching on to the waistband of my jeans, and she pulled me tight against her. She rubbed my cock through my pants and pressed her head into the crook of my neck, running her tongue along my skin.

  I pushed her head forward. We weren’t here to be all touchy feely. Her fingers crept to my zipper, and I grabbed them, placing her hands on the sink. “Stay,” I ordered before I tugged on my zipper and freed my dick. She reached back and stroked me. For a second, I let her, before I snatched her wrist, and situated it back on the sink.

  “I want to play,” she whimpered, but I ignored her request. This wasn’t the time for fucking games.

  I hooked my finger in the bottom of her thong, and yanked it off to the side. I ran my finger along her pussy, and just as I suspected, she was soaking wet and dying for me. I didn’t make her wait another second. I rolled a condom on and plunged my cock deep into her with one hard thrust. Her body jerked forward and her knuckles turned white as I relentlessly pounded into her.

  I knotted my hands in her hair and drew her back to me. “You do like it rough, you little slut.”

  She answered with a squeak, and I let my fingers fall free from her hair. Her hand smacked against the mirror, and I watched her face contort. “Rub my clit,” she begged. “I’m so close.”

  “Rub your own fucking clit,” I barked into her ear.

  She moaned and tightened her hold on the sink with one hand while the other reached down. Within seconds, she cried out, begging me to fuck her harder, and I was more than happy to oblige.

  I continued to plunge in and out of her, but I was getting bored, and so was my dick. The thrill and the rise in power I always felt when banging some random chick was gone, blocked by one fucking word: husband.

  Anger coursed through my veins, so I latched my hands on the girl’s shoulder, and used her as leverage as I fucked her into oblivion. I glanced up into the mirror, and watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. At least someone was enjoying this.

  I closed my eyes, thought about Brooklyn, and all the things I wanted to do to her before I found out she was fucking married. Finally, my balls tightened as the pressure began to build. My hand tightened on the girl’s hip as I imagined Brooklyn’s curvy ass, bare and waiting for me to take her from behind.

  The pressure exploded, and I came with a vengeance. The girl fell against the sink gasping for air, and I pulled out. I didn’t feel better though, if anything I felt worse. I felt like a piece of shit.

  The girl laughed. “Viper, you do not disappoint.”

  I fixed my pants, tossed the condom into the garbage, and forced a smile. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I jerked away and held my hand up. “Um…”

  “Sarah,” she said as sh
e blushed. A little late for that.

  “Sarah, that was fun, but I have somewhere to be.”

  “Of course you do.” She reached into her bra, and retrieved a piece of paper, handing it to me.

  “What’s this?” I asked, staring down, not bothering to unfold it.

  “My number. Call me.”

  I glanced back at the paper and laughed. Did she keep it in there for moments like this? I held it up to her. “I’m just going to throw it in the garbage when I leave here, so keep it, and give it to the next guy.”

  Her eyes widened, and I had a feeling if I didn’t get out of there soon, she’d slap me. So, I flung open the door and headed out. I stopped at the door and looked back at her. “Thanks for the fuck,” I said with a wink.

  “Anytime.”

  I closed the door and headed home to Sassy, still full of tension, and out of ways to release it.

  Chapter 16

  Nixon

  Johnnie Walker was my best friend last night, but this morning he was an absolute shithead. I stumbled out of my bedroom in search of water and aspirin. I came upon the half empty bottle first and tossed the whole thing in the trash. Didn’t know why I was holding onto it anyway, since it was a gift from Beckham the last time he was here. Too bad I didn’t bring it with me on my trip to see him. I could’ve used it to throw at his double-crossing sister-fucking head.

  It was two weeks until my next fight, and a hangover was the last fucking thing I needed. Getting drunk wasn’t even my style anymore. I grew out of that shit my first year of college, preferring to wake up early and get a head start at the gym. A clear head and a strongly honed body had gotten me to where I was now, and there was no way I was going to throw all my hard work away over a fucking girl. A married one at that.

  I pushed my fingers into my temples as I grabbed a cup from the cabinet. Sassy rubbed against my legs, but I didn’t have the energy to bend down and pick her up. She purred lightly and nudged her head into me. Like most women, she didn’t take rejection very well. “Sorry, girl,” I muttered as I popped open the aspirin.

  It was going to be a long fucking day.

  Once I managed to shower and get dressed without my head exploding, I hopped in my car and headed out. I kept my morning open from appointments, so I could get a training session in. The aspirin finally started to do its job, and my head cleared, but the instant it did, thoughts of Brooklyn forced their way back in again.

  Husband. How did I not pick up on that? She never wore a ring, not that it’d stopped me before, but Brooklyn was more than a body and a hole. I didn’t want just sex from her. For the first time in my life, I thought I wanted more, and if she had worn a ring, at least I’d be able to make sense of this shitshow. But nothing was making sense, including this weird fucking obsession I had.

  I should’ve been glad she was married, and just get the fuck over it. I allowed myself to get distracted and Brooklyn having a husband was exactly what I needed to get my head back in the game and focus on my upcoming fight.

  I took a deep breath, trying to blow all thoughts of a woman I shouldn’t want from my head, and went straight to the ring. Kevin was already there with his gear on, waiting for me. When he spotted me coming his way, he nodded and then said, “Running late?”

  “Rough morning,” I mumbled as I dropped my bag and jumped into the ring.

  “Ready to go?” he asked and I answered with a jab to his right hand. “I guess that’s a yes,” he joked, as I continued to jab right to left.

  Right. Left. Married. Why wasn’t she wearing a ring? Right. Left. Why did she kiss me? Act all innocent when she was the manipulator. Right. Left.

  Kevin held his hands up taking the blows, but I could tell the pads weren’t lessening the sting. I might’ve been hungover, but I was still full of rage.

  Sweat formed on my forehead and dripped down my face, but I didn’t bother to wipe it away. In the cage, sweat was the least of my worries, and when I trained, I pretended the circumstances were the same. There was no room for distractions. I had to keep my mind in the fight and on my opponent. One second of distraction was all it took to lose a fight. I would never let that happen. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to blow it now.

  I switched it up, throwing kicks in the mix. I was relentless, as I allowed all the anger and frustration to course through me and into each hit. My mind was focused on the win and the energy poured out of me.

  Husband. Right. Left. She was too young to be married. Right. Left. Though anyone eighteen and over could get married… but why? Right. Left. What else was she keeping hidden? Right. Left. Why was it always the people I let in, deceit me? Right. Left. First Beckham and now Brooklyn. Right. Left.

  “Whoa!” Kevin yelled and stepped out of the way. “Easy killer, or you’re going to be training on your own.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, finally swiping the sweat away.

  “Nope, just do me a favor, and hold all of that.” He motioned his hand toward me. “For the actual fight.”

  I nodded and bent down to pick up a towel. A fucking spider crawled out from under it, and I jumped back as a less than totally manly noise slipped out.

  Kevin started laughing, and I wanted to knock him the fuck out. “Dude, it’s a spider.”

  “Shut up,” I growled as I moved to the other side of the ring. “Can you fucking kill it already?”

  “Wait a second. Nixon ‘Viper’ Bennett, the meanest fighter around, is scared of a little spider?”

  I narrowed my eyes and clenched my fists. “I’m not scared of it. I just don’t fucking like them, okay?” Ice ran through my voice.

  “Okay.” Kevin held his hands up and stepped on it. “The big bad spider is dead,” he mocked, and I went at him with my fist. He flung his hands out in front of him, and I stopped. “I was kidding. Sorry.”

  “Forget that ever happened,” I insisted.

  “Forget what?”

  I smiled and patted his back. “Thanks. I’m going to go hit the shower. We on again tomorrow afternoon?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  I picked up my bag and called over my shoulder, “See you then.” Suddenly, feeling itchy as hell, I hurried to the shower. I fucking hated those creepy little bastards.

  I jumped in the shower, and, as soon as the cold water hit my head, I felt the relief I was looking for. With all the shit out of my mind, and my focus back where it should be, I could get over Brooklyn and move on with my life. But, as the water ran down my chest, something twisted in my gut.

  Thoughts of Brooklyn found their way back in. This time it wasn’t her tits or her ass that were front and center. No, instead, I thought about the way she jumped the first time I got near her. The way she freaked out while I was training her in self-defense. Self-defense.

  Fuck!

  I was too pissed to see it, but now it was all starting to make sense.

  She was never afraid of me, but clearly there was someone who terrified her. Someone who made her seek out the help she desperately needed.

  She needed me to help her because she’s afraid… afraid of her husband.

  How the fuck did I not realize that when I met him at her door? He was a nasty prick who had fire in his eyes. I was so blindsided over the fact that she had a husband that I missed what should have been so obvious. He was hurting her. I knew it. I felt it in my gut.

  I quickly rinsed the soap off of me and towel dried as I headed to my locker. Water still dripping down my legs, I yanked on my clothes and ran out to Tanya.

  The car was barely in reverse as I dropped the clutch and floored it out of my spot. I headed back to Brooklyn’s and prayed that fucker answered the door again. This time, I wasn’t walking away like an injured puppy.

  Fuck, no.

  This time the fucker was going down. There was no way I would let him lay a hand on her ever again. I didn’t give a fuck that he was her husband. She was mine, and I protected what was mine.

  Chapter 17


  Brooklyn

  Karl’s grip tightened on my wrist as he yanked me close to him. His finger snaked out, and snapped the strap of my tank top, stinging my skin. “What the fuck is this?” he demanded, his lip curling in disgust.

  He warned me about wearing anything but baggy t-shirts and pants out in public. It was a rule he put into place a month into our marriage, but I thought, because I was inside, it would be okay. There was no one to see me. Only him.

  “It’s my tank top. I was only going to wear it inside, I swear,” I pleaded, keeping my eyes on his hand, and waiting for it to wind back and slap me across the cheek.

  He grabbed my face, digging his strong fingers into my skin. “You look like a goddamned whore. Is that what you want?” His other hand latched on to my breast, squeezing it so tight that tears pricked my eyes. “You want me to treat you like a whore?”

  “No,” I stated, trying to stay strong. He might’ve found me, but I was sick and tired of cowering at every threat. With everything Nix taught me, I was confident I could defend myself. The only problem was, when would the defending stop? Because I honestly believed it would only piss Karl off more. Make him feel an obligation to himself to punish me. To never be taken off guard again. He would be relentless in his revenge, and that was something I wasn’t prepared for. Not yet at least.

  “Good girl,” he sneered, and smashed his lips to mine. My breath halted in my throat, and I froze. I could taste the pizza he had for lunch and the beer he had along with it.

  My stomach churned, thinking that this was only the beginning. We hadn’t had sex since he arrived, but it was only a matter of time before he needed to stick his dick in something. If I were lucky, he’d find some girl at a bar just like he did most of the time.

  To think, I was actually upset the first time I found out he cheated on me. Young and stupid, that’s what I was. I should’ve listened to Dad when he told me Karl was no good. Instead, I ignored him, too blinded by my own teenage romance. Dad saw something in Karl I didn’t see until after we were married, and by then, it was too late.