IRISH: a Bad Boy Fighter Romance

by Olivia Hawthorne

  My assistant had laid it all out with bright yellow stickers indicating where I would sign. I had found a fully furnished and staffed mansion the day after my escapade with the girl from the hotel. Initially I’d decided to rent it, but given the new contract I decided I would buy it.

  I’d never meant to settle down here, but being close to the girl I was gonna marry made sense to me. So the house I was renting would now be mine, I just had to work on the girl.

  Of course this meant that I officially owned a house in Los Angeles, one in Vegas and this latest acquisition in Boston.

  Three mansions and I wasn’t even a bloody American citizen yet.

  “I found the girl’s address,” Petra told me a while later, ducking her head into my office. “You want me to send her some flowers or something? Your usual?”

  I furrowed my brow and thought back to everything I knew about her. Which essentially was nothing. Except that her scent was intoxicating and her lips were soft and tasted of strawberries and I would give up all three of my mansions just to have those lips wrapped around my cock.

  “How about I head down to the flower shop and pick something out,” I said, snatching the paper from Petra’s hand as I passed.

  Her brows raised and she said, “Wow, I don’t think you’ve ever done that for a girl before.”

  “She’s not just a girl,” I said, turning back with a grin. “She’s gonna be my wife.”

  Petra looked like she’d choked on something as she tried to refrain from laughter. She of all people knew how many girls I’d bagged over the last few years, and she of all people knew I wasn’t the marrying kind.

  I winked at her and left my newly purchased house. I decided on my latest car, a BMW i8, to cruise to the flower shop. It had cost me a few hundred grand and I hadn’t even taken it out of the garage yet. It was a shame that I finally had all the money I’d ever dreamed of growing up poor in Belfast, and I didn’t have the time to really enjoy it or somebody to enjoy it with.

  I’d been single minded about making it to the top, and now that I was here, I was going to defend my position with every fiber of my being. It might be nice to have a woman like Lennon in my life to keep me grounded and bring something other than fighting into it.

  The car was a dream, the engine purred and it slid through the streets like it was gliding on ice. The attention I attracted made me feel a little smug, I won’t lie, but more importantly it was bloody fast.

  I found parking on the street in front of the flower shop, hopped out and immediately a small crowd formed.

  I remembered why I didn’t go out in public that often. The press was always around it seemed, there was no escaping them.

  “Who are the flowers for, Knox?” one fella asked and stuck his phone in my face.

  “Can I get an autograph for my son?” another guy clamored for my attention.

  I put on my public smirk and pushed through them all, ignoring questions and signing items that were shoved in my face.

  I managed to get into the flower shop and slammed the door shut behind me.

  “Do ye mind if I lock it?” I asked the woman behind the counter.

  “Sure,” she said and frowned at me like it was my fault the crowds wouldn’t leave me alone. “Do I know you?”

  “Probably not, unless ye like fighting,” I said with a grin.

  “Oh, you’re the King!” she exclaimed. “My boyfriend loves you.”

  “Aye that’s me. The King ‘O Ireland, and soon to be America,” I replied with a crooked smile.

  “Could I get you to sign something? For David, my boyfriend?” she asked, a slight blush hitting her high cheekbones.

  “How about yer tits?” I asked suggestively as a joke and leaned over the counter to take a hard look at her. She had dark hair, light skin and green eyes. I think I was quickly developing a type.

  To my complete lack of surprise, she giggled like mad, leaned over the counter and held her top down so I could scrawl across her breasts in permanent marker. It was amazing how easy women were when you were Knox O’Connor.

  “I might have to have it tattooed in if you keep fighting as well as you have been,” she smiled after I was done.

  “I thought ye said you didn’t watch the fights,” I quipped back and watched her flame even deeper.

  “Just with David,” she stammered. “Now how can I help you?”

  It happened like that all the time, women didn’t feel like they could admit watching UFC or boxing and such. It was a pity, we needed more girls fighting and we needed more of them at the fights.

  Nothing got our blood going like a bunch of sexy girls watching us pummel the shit out of each other. I had to convince Lennon to start attending games so I could rut like a stallion for her viewing pleasure.

  “I’m after a wee bouquet for a girl I like,” I said.

  Her brows went up again and she started in on what kinds of flowers this girl liked, or what was her favorite color, perfume, or country.

  I was too flustered, no lie, so I panicked and bought out the shop. I had no fekking clue what Lennon liked, but what woman didn’t like flowers? Especially a few thousand dollars worth?

  I hoped she got them long before she read any gossip blogs, because there were guys already typing stories on their smart phones before I left the shop.

  She’d have to get used to living in the public eye, that was for certain, but it was what happened in private that would keep her coming back for me.

  That was also for certain.

  Chapter Ten

  Lennon

  I woke up early and started hoofing it, looking for a job a couple days after George’s big announcement. I couldn’t believe after a few years I was back out on the street looking for anything.

  I hated the gnawing desperation that was beginning to settle into my stomach as door after door was shut in my face by people with apologetic looks but no jobs.

  The current economy was in the toilet and I was going to suffer because of it.

  My feet were burning by the time I got back to my apartment. Jessica was at work, so I had the place to myself for a little bit.

  I hadn’t realized how insane the logistics of having like, a billion flowers would be, so I started tidying up the leaves that were already falling off and contemplated throwing a few of them out.

  It felt like such a waste though, and growing up with very little meant I didn’t like to waste anything.

  I carted a few of them at a time downstairs to the lobby and made a sign that said, “Take them, they’re free!” and set it in front. I still had more than enough, but now we had room to use our counter and table in the kitchen. Other people could enjoy Knox’s generosity too, so it was win-win in my books.

  I sat in the jungle of remaining flowers with my laptop on the table and perused job websites. I almost wanted to weep at how few prospects there were once you weeded out the fake companies and information scammers. The ones who just wanted your resume so they could steal your identification.

  I checked the time, realized I had thirty minutes to be at George’s and slammed my laptop shut out of frustration.

  I just didn’t know what I was going to do about my money situation. Jessica needed to know too, she depended on my half of the rent to live here.

  I pulled on my old jeans and a black t-shirt with a hoodie over it to take the bus downtown to work. I slid old army boots on, my shit kickers as Jessica liked to call them, and was ready to go.

  Jessica was the quintessential girly girl and always made fun of me for how I dressed. I liked to down play my body and wear clothes that kept me covered, especially because of my job. I rarely did much with my hair beyond letting it dry naturally, and I never wore make up although the one time Jessica had experimented on me I looked pretty freaking hot.

  I didn’t know why, I was just more of a tomboy than she was and I’d never had an issue with it.

  Until I thought of the types of women Knox O’Connor was photogra
phed with. Website after website of him with the most gorgeously made up women in the world on his arm.

  I’d done well though, staying off any gossip sites for the last few days. I didn’t want to see him with some beautiful woman just then, I didn’t think my twisted emotions could handle it.

  My stomach was still tied up in knots when I thought of Knox. Everything in my experience told me he was the kind of man I needed to run from, but everything in my body said fuck me now, Knox, take me hard!

  My heart trembled at the thought of his touch though, knowing that being with a man like him was more than a game, it was more than fooling around. It would mean something real, something serious and something beautiful if we both took the time to let it grow.

  But could it grow on such shaky ground? Could I ever stop myself from shivering in fear and excitement around him long enough to foster a relationship? Was he the kind of man who would give me what I wanted?

  I walked into George’s a few minutes early and right away there was a strange feeling in the air. It felt almost electric with nervous energy.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Kyle as I tossed my purse under the counter.

  “I don’t know, but George has been bloody giddy for hours now. Could be the visitor he has though,” Kyle said.

  “Visitor? Who’s here?”

  “Knox bloody O’Connor, the fighter. Have you heard of him?”

  “I have,” I replied and narrowed my eyes thinking about the apartment full of flowers back home. I stomped to George’s office to confront Knox about his generosity and what the hell he was doing here, but when I swung it open without knocking, I was taken aback.

  George was laughing and Knox was in the middle of an animated story, his hands moving around excitedly.

  “Ah, Lennon, just the girl I’ve been waiting for,” George said, his mild Irish accent just slightly more noticeable after hanging out with Knox.

  “What’s going on?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Well, good news, kitten,” Knox said with a cheeky grin. “Come, take a seat,” he said, patting the chair next to him.

  I sunk slowly down and stared at him, waiting for one of them to let me in on the good news.

  “The great news is that you’re not out of a job,” George said with a triumphant grin.

  “Oh my god, that’s amazing,” I replied with an exhalation of tension. “Did you come up with the money?”

  “Aye, he did,” Knox answered with a twinkle in his eye. “His new landlord cut him one heck of a deal on the lease.”

  “How do you know?” I asked, and then caught on. “Are you the new landlord?”

  “I told you she was bright,” George said like a proud father.

  “Ya, that she is,” Knox said. “And aye, I am. I bought the building.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked, equally horrified and impressed.

  “To get closer to you, kitten,” Knox replied evenly. “I wasn’t fooling around the other night, and I meant what I asked. I’m gonna spend time here in my new place until I get the answer I want.”

  George looked confused and stared back and forth between Knox and I.

  I pursed my lips and ignored the way my heart was fluttering and my panties were being soaked as I sat there, staring into the most amazing green eyes I’d ever seen.

  I was so god damned stubborn though, and so god dammed suspicious that I looked him up and down, stuck my jaw out, narrowed my eyes and said, “Well you’ll be waiting for a long, long time then.”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world,” Knox winked and I knew he had me.

  I just had to figure out how long I could maintain my dignity before I gave myself to him, body, heart and soul.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lennon

  So somehow the UFC heavyweight champion of the world had become my boss and my suitor.

  How this happened, I had no idea beyond Knox’s insanely stubborn determination and George’s desperation for money. Then again, my own desperation for money kept me working at George’s pub even when Knox strolled through whenever he wanted like he owned the place.

  Oh that’s right.

  He did own the place.

  It had been a week since I’d found out and I was at my usual spot behind the bar, chin rested on my hand, watching the sports channel and waiting for the weekend crowd to pick up.

  “Come on, it’s not that bad,” Kyle said, walking in from the back storeroom with a case of whiskey in his arms.

  He set it on the table and I helped him put it away. I looked at the bottle but it was a brand I didn’t recognize. I told him, “It’s not that bad, but it is bad. And when did we start carrying this one?” I held up a bottle.

  “It’s the boss’s favorite,” Kyle said and handed me another bottle I put on the shelf under the bar. “And it seriously isn’t bad at all. I told Rebecca about Knox wanting to marry you and she thinks you’re nuts for not jumping at it.”

  “That’s because she’s married to you,” I said and stuck out my tongue at him.

  “Hey, come on now, just because you’re being a stubborn ass doesn’t mean you can make fun of my wife,” he laughed. “Besides, little Jeremy hasn’t slept through the night in about a month so Rebecca would probably run away with the mailman right now if he asked her.”

  I stood up and flattened the now empty box. “That’s precisely why I’m never having kids,” I said.

  “Ha, that’s what Rebecca and I both said when we first got married. And then the hormones kick in and all you think about is having a baby together. And then you have the baby and it’s the worst thing in the world because your life is no longer your own and you get no sleep and this tiny little alien has taken over everything.”

  “Exactly,” I said smugly, “and once again that’s why my womb is going to remain baby-free.”

  “But,” Kyle said with a soft, secret smile, “there’s absolutely nothing in the world better than holding your child with the person you love with all your heart. You look at them and know love. You truly understand what it is to be a human being and know that you would lay down your life to make theirs better. And that makes it all worth it at the end of the day.”

  “Sure, keep telling yourself that,” I replied and rolled my eyes, but that weird primal part of me that wanted Knox actually perked up at his words.

  I wondered what our baby would look like, if it would have Knox’s insanely beautiful eyes and his full lips.

  I swear that man had radar for every time I bloody well thought horny things about him, because the bell above the door rang and he sauntered in looking like the cat that ate the canary. Or the cat that knew the canary was going to give in at some point and marry him.

  “Top ‘o the evening to ye,” he said with his gorgeous Irish lilt.

  I laughed, I couldn’t help myself, and asked, “Do they really say that in Ireland?”

  “Only when they’re after me lucky charms,” he replied with a smile and slid his cut, perfect body onto a stool at the bar. “Get me a whiskey, will ye kitten?”

  I had to laugh at his cereal reference as I reached under the bar and brought up a bottle of the stuff Kyle had produced moments before. “Is this the one you’re after?”

  “Not that one,” he said and looked past me. “I think it’s in the back, I had it delivered earlier.”

  “Are you sure? This is the only new booze we’ve got,” I replied, frowning.

  “Oh, no, there’s a couple more boxes back there,” Kyle said looking up from where he was chatting with a small group of women and pouring their drinks.

  “Thanks, pal,” I mumbled under my breath and stalked to the back room.

  I wasn’t in there for more than five seconds when the door opened and closed behind me.

  I turned to find Knox, and I was completely unsurprised. I knew in the back of my mind that he would follow me, and I knew that I would want him there.

  “I can’t find what you’re look
ing for,” I said, standing on my tiptoes searching the boxes of alcohol George had stacked.

  “I already found it,” he said with a gorgeous arrogant smirk on his lips.

  “Oh,” I replied. “Where is it?”

  “Right here,” he growled and pushed me against the wall of boxes. I guess I kinda walked right into that one.

  “Okay,” I exhaled and bit my lower lip as his eyes scanned my face.

  “Yer so fekking beautiful, Lennon,” he said in an exhalation of breath. “I need to taste you before I lose my fekking mind, kitten.”

  I didn’t have a chance to respond, his mouth crushed mine and I melted against his hard, muscled body in complete and utter surrender.

  Surrendering to Knox was the only thing I could do, denying him felt like something against nature, something against what I was born to do.

  His hands were all over me at once, lifting my shirt and touching my bare skin, leaving hot trails of desire everywhere he came in contact with me.

  He settled one huge, rough hand on my upper thigh, lifted my skirt as he slid his tongue against mine and groaned, a needy, hungry noise in the quiet of the back room.

  His fingers crept to my panties and pulled them aside. I gasped as he found the peak of my wet slit and pushed past it to my swollen clit.

  I arched myself against him and let him inside.

  Chapter Twelve

  Knox

  Her cunt was a handful of wet heat and I wanted more.

  She ground herself against my fingers as I slid inside her body, my tongue moving in time with my hand as I fucked her both ways.

  She moaned and pushed her head back, her hips out to meet me and open herself to me further.

  I cupped the back of her head with my other hand and her leg slid up mine, wrapping itself around my thigh.

  “Fuck, Lennon, I’ve got te have ye,” I growled and bit her lower lip. She gasped again and her bright green eyes flew open as she looked at me, then the door. It was unlocked and we could be discovered at any moment but I didn’t fucking care.

  This was my property, both the bar and the girl.