Breaking Beast (Pounding Hearts)

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Breaking Beast (Pounding Hearts) Page 21

by Izzy Sweet


  The guy shoots Alex a dirty look and has the nerve to say, “Just one more question. Christy, where do you—“

  The guy doesn’t get to finish his question because Alex must be just as frustrated as me. Alex grabs the guy by the back of the shirt and forces him to his feet.

  “Hey!” the guy says with a great deal of indignation as Alex walks him backwards towards the door. “Get your hands off me. You can’t do this to me…“

  “I can and I just did, buddy,” Alex grins then pushes him out into the hallway. “Make sure everyone knows that Christy Heiland is done with interviews for the night!” he yells out then slams the door in his face.

  “Oh, thank god,” I say with relief. “I thought he’d never leave.”

  Alex starts to turn towards me then someone bangs on the door, bringing him up short. Turning back around, he locks the door and roars angrily, “Go away!”

  The banging stops abruptly. Alex waits at the door, his body tense as if he’s anticipating another interruption.

  When all is quiet, his shoulders seem to sag with relief.

  Turning towards me, his eyes are bright and full of some emotion I can’t place. “How do you feel?” he asks.

  “I feel pretty good,” I tell him. “I only took a couple of punches to the head.”

  He grins, walking towards me, and that grin, that grin does things to me. My heart skips a beat and my stomach flutters.

  “Yeah, you’re going to have quite a shiner tomorrow.”

  I reach up and touch my face. It feels swollen and puffy but the pain isn’t that bad. Honestly, I’ve taken worse beatings during practice over the past few weeks. Tonight feels pretty tame compared to some of the stuff Dale has dished out to me.

  I’d take Brianna over Dale any day.

  Alex walks right up to me and then carefully takes my face in his hands. Tipping my head up, his thumbs stroke across my cheeks, exploring the puffiness.

  “Yeah, you’re pretty swollen. Do you want some more ice?”

  “No,” I say, staring up at him. “That’s not what I want.”

  His eyes lock on mine and his thumbs still. A tension that’s been resting just below the surface awakens between us.

  “What do you want?” he asks, his eyes darkening.

  I take a deep breath and brace myself for the truth. “I want to know if you meant it.”

  He blinks at me, confused. “Meant what?”

  Looking away, I feel my face warming. I’ve been dying to ask him this question for more than an hour, but now that the time has finally come I can’t seem to get it out of my mouth.

  What if he didn’t mean it? What if bringing this up ruins what we already have? If he doesn’t want to be serious but knows I do, will he still want to be with me? Or will he think we’re better off parting ways?

  Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I would do without him.

  “Christy,” he says, his voice incredibly soft and husky. “Meant what?”

  I just battled it out in the cage in a match that was broadcast live on television but somehow this feels like the real fight I’ve been training for.

  Forcing my eyes back to him, I stare into his eyes, searching for a sign.

  But his eyes are just as mysterious as always, giving me no clues.

  His thumbs stroke against my jaw and I close my eyes for a moment, gathering up my courage.

  This man, he empowers me. He strengthens me, and builds me up, yet he also weakens me. And all these little touches, these little signs of his affection break me down in a way that makes me feel so vulnerable.

  “Did you mean it when you said you love me?” I ask, opening my eyes.

  “Yes,” he answers without any hesitation.

  I don’t know if it’s the answer or the surge of emotion that hits me but I suddenly feel like crying. My eyes blur and my nose burns. A sob builds in my throat.

  I throw myself at him and he catches me.

  Before I can burst into tears his mouth presses against my mouth, swallowing the sob I let out.

  His hands grab me, firmly yet gently, holding me up. I grab at his shirt, clinging to him as I experience an overwhelming need to feel my skin pressed against his skin.

  “I love you,” he growls, between pulls from my mouth. “I fucking love you.”

  Suddenly his hands are all over me, I feel them everywhere at once. On my face, on my breasts, on my hips. My arms are moved.

  Our kiss breaks as my shirt is pulled up.

  Panting, my breasts feel so heavy as I stare up at him. It takes no work at all to get these words past my mouth.

  Staring into his eyes, I say, “I love you too,” and feel it with every beat of my heart.

  A deep growl rumbles in the base of his throat and then he’s pulling me up, stripping my shorts off. The cool air hits me and I shiver, both hot and cold beneath his smoldering look.

  Letting out my own growl, I grab his shirt and yank it up. He has to bend down though to help me get it off.

  Tossing his shirt away, he pulls me into him and my breasts smash against his chest. With nothing between us, I swear I can feel every thundering beat of his heart.

  “You know I can never let you go now,” he says, staring me down.

  Staring up into his eyes, I have to swallow down the lump in my throat before saying, “I know.”

  “You’re mine,” he says and hauls me up, ravenously kissing my mouth. “Mine,” he growls and spins, pushing me up against the wall.

  My legs wrap around his waist but I want to cry in frustration because he’s still wearing his damn pants.

  I want to be joined with him, I need him inside me so much it hurts.

  With one hand on my ass, holding me up, he reaches between us and shoves his pants down. “I’ve been fantasizing about doing this all night…” he admits and then thrusts forward.

  He fills me up in one powerful stroke.

  Spine arching, my head falls back and my nails dig into his shoulders as a rush of pleasure flows through my core.

  His breath puffs against my ear as he slowly pulls out. “I’ve been wanting to fill you up with my cock ever since that first night I caught you showering in the gym.”

  My eyes flash open in surprise but then all thoughts of him seeing me in the shower that night fly out of my head as he thrusts back in.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, so fucking sexy,” he grunts as he pumps his thick shaft in and out of my tight clench. “And too damn young for me. Fuck.”

  I shake my head back and forth, groaning out, “I’m not too young…”

  “You are,” he says firmly and grabs my breast, squeezing it in his big hand. “But I no longer care. You’re stuck with this old man.”

  “Maybe you’re the one stuck with me,” I pant, struggling to keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head.

  “Always have to fight back, don’t ya?” he says, teeth nipping at my chin.

  “Yes,” I gasp as his hips crash into my hips. My thighs tighten around his waist, trying to hold him in but he fights against it.

  Pulling back, he slams back in as if to prove a point and I cry out, already teetering on the edge.

  There’s just too much building inside me, too much pleasure, too much sensation.

  Too much emotion.

  “Good,” he grunts and starts pummeling me with his cock like he’s trying to put me through the brick. “I like it when you fight back.”

  “Oh god, Alex!” I cry out, pushed over the cliff. My body locks up around him, my muscles tight, the walls of my sex convulsing around him.

  “Oh, fuck,” I hear him curse. “Your little pussy is too fucking tight.”

  Unable to pull out, he pushes deeper, grinding against my clit.

  I explode in another wet burst of bliss, screaming and clinging to him.

  A moment later he roars out so loud he nearly busts my eardrums, and then I’m being filled up with the most amazing warmth.

  His hips
swirl as he continues to grind himself deep, pulsing inside me as he draws the release out.

  Each second, each spasm, feels more intense than the first.

  “Fuck,” he groans as we sag against each other, leaning against the wall.

  Seconds pass as we catch our breath and I can’t help but marvel at how good it feels to be held in his strong arms.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, brushing my hair back and looking at me with concern. “I got a bit carried away. Did I hurt you?”

  I shake my head and smile up at him. My throat too raw to speak right now.

  “Good,” he grins back. “Let’s get cleaned up and go home.”

  Home. Wow. That word just hits me in a way that I haven’t felt in a while and I have to fight back the urge to cry. Home, I have a home again.

  I have a place where I belong, and I have a man who loves me.

  How did I get so lucky?

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asks, misreading the look on my face. “I did hurt you, didn’t I?”

  “No,” I croak and clear my throat. I can’t even explain what I’m feeling so I say, “I was just thinking about Muffin. She’s probably wondering what’s taking us so long.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Alex

  Sitting outside of where Christy grew up is making me feel like some sick stalker. Especially since I’m here without her even knowing.

  I don’t exactly feel good about lying to her. I told her it was a quick meetup with one of the guys from the gym. She was all too happy to let me get out of the house. The girls were playing dress up again…

  Shit’s fucking messing with me.

  Muffin used to be the big bad bitch in the house. Now she wears tutus and always has a different nail color. Not going to complain, though, anything my girls want they get. I guess Muffin needed a woman in the house with her.

  Two nights ago, while Christy was fighting in the ring for the first time in her life, her shit of a stepbrother was blowing up her phone with texts and calls.

  Fucker has a twisted sense of reality.

  I couldn’t make it through all of them, but those texts and calls went from pissed off and threatening, to fucking pleading. He was incoherent through a lot of the calls, and my guess is that he was pretty drugged up.

  I was tempted to delete all the shit and just block him, but that would be too much of an invasion of her privacy.

  Christy is a pure soul, I think. She wants the world to be a certain way, even if it can’t be. I don’t think she has rose-colored glasses on, but her wishing the bad would just go away on its on is not going to work.

  Situations like Travis are never going to go away on their own, they need a reason to go away.

  I’m a pretty big fucking reason, if you ask me.

  My luck must be running on high because I’ve only been waiting a few minutes before Travis pulls up to the house in his piece of shit wannabe mod car. Fuck, that thing is ugly and sounds like a pile of shit as well.

  “Travis!” I shout out as he gets about halfway to his door.

  I’ve set myself up right in front of their house so he has no chance of missing me when I get his attention. It’s night time so I’m guessing he’s seen my car, and from the swagger that he’s got in his step I bet he thinks Christy is inside waiting for him. Stupid fuck.

  “Yeah?” he says to me as I walk up his sidewalk.

  “Hey, my name’s Alex and…” I start to say before he turns away from me.

  “I ain’t got time for any shit, man. I’ve got to see someone.”

  Shaking my head, I pick up my pace. “About that… That’s my car, shit for brains.”

  He pauses at the door with it halfway open. Turning back to me, his eyes widen as he takes me in for the first time. “What?”

  Stupid motherfucker let me get into his personal space without even realizing the mortal danger he’s in.

  Quick as a fucking snake, I lash out with my fist, catching the side of his head.

  I watch as he’s forced into the partially open door and then grin as he falls into the house.

  “Thanks for inviting me in, Travis,” I say as I step into the house and shut the door behind me.

  Taking a quick look around the living room to see if her stepfather is home, I smile when I see my luck has held. Travis and I are all alone.

  How cozy, just me and the little bitch.

  Shaking his head from the blow, he yells at me, “What the fuck, asshole?!”

  “I’m betting you saw my car outside, didn’t you?” I say to him. “Figured Christy would be in here waiting for you?”

  “That’s… Fuck… That’s your ride, isn’t it?”

  Nodding my head, I say, “Yeah, it’s mine. I’m the man whose car you kicked, whose dog you kicked, and most importantly the man whose girl you hurt.”

  Scrambling backwards towards the couch, he pulls himself up. “The fuck she is. I don’t know who…”

  “That’s right, you didn’t know who you were fucking around with. So I’m going to give you this one chance to…”

  “I’m going to fucking kill you, she told me you fucked her!” he screams at me as he charges forward.

  Stepping aside of his poorly thrown punch, I lash out with a kick to the side of his knee. The loud popping sound followed by the screeching howl as he falls to the floor is like music to my ears.

  He curls up in a screaming ball of pain. Pulling my leg, I give him a sharp kick to the kidney which causes him to temporarily stop making noise as the pain engulfs him.

  Leaning down, I grab his nasty greasy hair and start dragging him down the hallway.

  “Let’s get this over with, Travis. We have a lot to go through in a short amount of time.”

  He fights me some, but once I locate his bedroom, it’s a simple matter of grabbing him by the back of his pants and grabbing a handful of hair to toss him into the room face first.

  He lands roughly and gets that hazy, glazed look in his eyes. Poor guy, such a little pussy for all the fuss he has made.

  Looking around his room quickly doesn’t help me find what I am looking for. Well shit, I guess I’m going to have to ask him where his shit is.

  Slapping him roughly across the face twice brings his focus to me. “Where’s the drugs at, Travis?”

  “Wha…” he asks in confusion.

  Slapping him even harder, I say, “Focus, shit for brains. Where are your drugs? Where is the shit you’ve been putting in your body?”

  “Why do you want that?” he whines out to me.

  Fuck, I so do not have time for this shit.

  Pulling my arm back, I say, “Next question from your mouth is going to cause you to lose some teeth. Where are you storing the shit?”

  I pull up the sleeves of his shirt and check his arms. I see a couple needle pricks there but they look old. So he’s not needle guy, I’m betting he’s snorting shit now.

  “In the air return…” He points over to the wall.

  Moving over to the wall, I yank out the return and find a small stash of white powdery shit and what looks like weed.

  Leaving the shit right where it is, I walk back to Travis.

  “Okay, so now I know where you store your shit. Since time is quickly running out for you, Travis…” I say as I can’t help but smile at the wide-eyed terrified look he gets.

  Yeah, he is thinking exactly what I want him to.

  “Man, don’t kill me… I didn’t mean to hurt her… I just can’t help it… I…”

  “Shut the fuck up!” I roar over his stuttering.

  Kneeling down in front of him, I punch him hard, as hard as I can. I can’t help it; the rage has been building itself up ever since Christy came home in tears.

  The room goes quiet as I have to mentally restrain myself from wringing his fucking neck.

  Taking a deep breath, I say, “You’ve got two options right now, Travis. Two. That’s fucking it.”

  “Wha…What do you mean, man?”


  “You say right now Christy is mine, and you will fuck off permanently. Or I get the cops involved. I bet you’re holding shit on you right now, and in your car. You’re not a simple user, you’ve got too much shit on you for that.”

  “Fuck…”

  Slamming my fist into his testicles first, I grab his shoulder in a simple but painfully effective hold. It’s the type of hold where you either tap out or the shoulder socket gets destroyed.

  “Mine! She’s fucking mine! Now fucking say it, bitch.”

  “She’s yours! Man, I swear I’m done!”

  Growling in his ear, I say, “This is your final warning. Next time I either get you sent to prison or I bury you in the fucking desert. Understand?”

  “Yeah, man, I…” He screams out as I pop his shoulder out of socket.

  The screaming ends about two minutes later when I have to kick him hard in the stomach.

  All the air is knocked out of his lungs and he gasps like a fucking fish out of water.

  Looking him in the face one last time, I say, “This was your only warning, Travis. Next time you go to prison or get buried in the desert. One way or the other you will disappear.”

  * * *

  My hands are shaking as I get behind the wheel of the car. I haven’t allowed myself that kind of violence in a long time. It’s almost nauseating, but necessary.

  Anything to protect what’s mine.

  I’ve got enough pictures on my phone of his stash in his bedroom and car that I have no doubt I could get him arrested on an anonymous tip. I really hope he makes the right decision.

  It’s a relief to pull into my garage, to be back home with my girls.

  Coming in through the kitchen, I head to where I hear Christy laughing loudly. She’s in the living room, watching some movie with Muffin. They’re both sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in Christy’s lap.

  Plopping myself down beside her, I put my arm around her and pull her into my arms.

  “How are my girls?” I ask.

  “We’re good.” Christy beams at me. “You’re back early…”

  “Yeah, it was just a quick talk with a guy about the gym. He wanted to know what he would be getting into…”

 

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