Submission Moves: An MMA Romance

by Sisco, Camilla

  The rest of the session proceeded with relative normalcy. The guys were more attentive and respectful, but they didn’t lose their good humor. When time came to dismiss them, she bade them goodbye and leaned her hips against the table as she watched them file out of the room. The fact that Nick remained seated and had made no move to leave wasn’t lost on her.

  “Can I help you with something?” she asked in a clipped voice when the last man had left the room. She fussed with her laptop so she didn’t have to look at him. It didn’t matter. His presence was so potent, she saw him clearly in her mind’s eye.

  Nick stood up and took a few steps toward her. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and waited.

  Finally, because she knew he wasn’t going to say anything until he had her undivided attention, Rose stood up straight and met his gaze. “What is it, Nick?”

  “I’ve called you several times now and it always goes to voicemail. I’ve left you messages and you never get back to me.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, not pushy, but his stare was hot and sharp. “I thought maybe you were just playing hard to get. I figured a girl’s entitled to some token resistance.”

  Rose shook her head. “That is just wrong on so many levels.”

  “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.” He licked his lips, more out of unease than anything else. Rose’s reaction to that gesture, that same tiny gesture that had her distracted throughout the session, was visceral, violent, and completely unwelcome. She felt her face and neck go warm.

  “Last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable with me. I don’t want to be that guy. So if you tell me straight to my face you don’t want to go out with me, I’ll stop asking.”

  He did it again, that little lip lick. There was no one else in the room. Rose’s breasts suddenly felt heavy and tender. She wanted to be touched. She wanted to rub up against his hard chest. She wanted—

  Stop it.

  These were the last thoughts she should be having, given where they were and the current topic of conversation. My God, what was he doing to her? She looked him dead in the eyes. “I don’t want to go out with you, Nick.”

  His face fell. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that answer.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at that bald-faced admission. He probably didn’t get told ‘no’ very often, especially not by women. But, well, he asked, didn’t he? She wasn’t interested in going out on a date with Niccolo Rossi. This was a man she once had hot, dirty sex with when she was young, stupid, and tipsy. He was a one-night stand, something to tick off the sexual bucket list she didn’t even know she had. She didn’t want to get to know him better or share her hopes and dreams with him or talk to him about a book she’d been reading. She did not want to introduce him to her friends or to her family. Although, from what she had heard from Chris, Nick had hit it off with him and her other brothers famously, and their dad was all but ready to adopt Nick and the two other Rossi boys.

  He let out a long sigh. “What is it about me you find so bad? Not to brag, but I’ve done plenty well for myself. I’m in a totally different tax bracket from when you first met me.”

  “Are you seriously trying to bribe me?” Rose rolled her eyes.

  “I’m handsome.” He waited, daring her to contradict him. “I won’t open doors or pull out chairs for you, if that will insult you or something. I’ll even split the bill or let you pay. How ‘bout that for femmepowerment? You can even do the asking out yourself. Go on,” he encouraged.

  Rose bit back a laugh. Handsome indeed. And still completely full of himself. And funny. And charming. Oh, criminy. But still not her type.

  “C’mon, Rosie. Be straight with me. Why don’t you wanna go out with me?”

  It was a reasonable request, but what could she tell him? You’re too macho? Too rough? Too cocky? Too beautiful? Too male? Too much? She made the mistake of looking into his deep brown eyes while she thought of an acceptable answer.

  Those eyes! She suppressed a delicious shudder. He’d been gorgeous at twenty-five. Now at twenty-nine, he was gorgeous, sexy, and commanding, with this heady aura of virility and indomitable strength and determination. Perhaps it had always been there, only Rose had been too young to recognize it. But the outrageous flirt with the boyish charm from long ago did rear its head from time to time. Like now.

  “You’re a manwhore, Nick,” she said matter-of-factly. This man dated ring girls, models, starlets, and at least one adult film actress—although that rumor had never been confirmed. As an MMA fan, she couldn’t escape reading tidbits about his personal life. There was even an online forum that ranked all the fighter wives and girlfriends. Nick’s girl du jour was always on top. As far as she could tell, he liked his girls flashy, exciting, and glamorous. Rose had nothing in common with any of those women, even less with the guy who’d dated them.

  Nick looked insulted and taken aback at her answer. “You would never call me a whore if I were a woman. That’s very gendered and sexist, Rosie. I expected better from you.”

  She stared at him, mouth agape. She wasn’t expecting to get called out by a macho jock. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” she said after much stammering.

  “See, I’ve been listening to you and I’ve been learning.” He tapped a finger to his temple and gave her a teasing smile. “I don’t know what kind of picture you’ve painted of me in your head,” he said, taking a step closer. “But it’s probably a lot worse than the truth. I’m not some kind of sex fiend or some retard dick on a stick—”

  “Oh my God, please don’t use that word,” she said with a shake of her head. “That’s not very politically correct.”

  “Well, whatever you call it, that’s not what I am,” he said. “So, I’m single and I’ve dated a few women casually, what’s wrong with that?”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes. “A few?”

  He shot her a pointed look. “I don’t care about your number, so you shouldn’t care about mine.”

  She was at a loss for words again, unsure if he was being earnest or simply pandering to her politics as part of a convoluted scheme to get her in bed. But Nick had never struck her as the manipulative type. If anything, he was plain-speaking and upfront to a fault. “Nick, this is hardly appropriate, you’re a participant of an anti-sexual harassment workshop I’m conducting,” she said after a burst of inspiration. “I cannot be involved with you in any way.”

  He huffed impatiently. “We got, what, three more days of this?”

  “Two more sessions. Two days.”

  His eyes bore down on her and he took another step closer. “You’re just stalling, but fine, I can wait a couple of days. After that, I’m coming for you.”

  The way he said it, half-threat, half-promise, made her heart skip a beat. Rose felt a flustered laugh bubble up, but she kept her face perfectly impassive. The rest of her body refused to cooperate. Her pulse raced, her skin went all warm and itchy, and she felt a throbbing sensation between her legs. Her nipples hardened into tight buds through the lace of her bra. Horrified, she wondered if it was noticeable through the thin jersey of her dress, but she didn’t dare look down to check. She didn’t need to. She saw Nick’s eyes flick downward to her chest. He licked his lips again, this time slow and deliberate. She didn’t know if her brain was drawing from a very vivid memory or if her senses had gone haywire, as they seemed to do when Nick was around, but she felt the touch of his tongue on her sensitive, aching tips. A soft gasp escaped her lips. When Nick raised his eyes back to hers, he was wearing a very smug, very sexy smile.

  “Does this usually work for you? This ‘me, Tarzan, you, Jane’ schtick?” She was angry now. Angry and embarrassed. Betrayed by her own body.

  Nick laughed. “It worked on you four years ago, didn’t it?”

  Rose shut the lid of her laptop and gathered her things. It was working now, but there was no way she’d admit to it. “As much as I’d love to stay here the whole day fending off your unwelcome attempts at flirtation, I have t
hings I need to do.”

  She stalked past him and shut the door safely behind her. Only then did she let out the breath she didn’t even realize she'd been holding.

  CHAPTER 10

  Rose watched from a discreet distance as the production crew that was doing Nick’s pre-fight package and video blog filmed him in training in the Rossi Combat Sports Gym. Right now, he was on the mat with Rafael Verdun, a fighter from Sao Paolo with a black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Middleweight, 7-2.

  She’d be lying if she said getting to watch the fighters train didn’t send her little MMA fangirl heart a-flutter. The gym was beautiful, all shiny and new and good-smelling, replete with state-of-the-art equipment, its own octagon and boxing ring, and even a full-service spa and rehab center. The space was a converted warehouse in a recently gentrified area. They kept the high ceilings and the exposed beams and adorned the walls with huge framed posters of all the men fighting under the banner of the Grayson-Rossi Training Camp.

  For the past week, Rose had gotten the chance to hang out with them and get to know them better. Not just the fighters, but the trainers and the sparring partners as well. Beneath their rough exterior, they were pretty decent guys. Growing up in a mostly male household had served her well. She could hold her own with them when they started talking about sports, which they often did. It impressed her how this camp full of the toughest men she’d ever met had taken to the women they were teaching. Not only did they take precious time off from their own training to teach them, they’d been very conscientious about putting into practice all that Rose drilled into them during the anti-sexual harassment seminar. They didn’t always succeed. She’d heard them mouth off a few off-color jokes from time to time. But she could see that they were really trying—at least when she was around.

  She had been taking turns with Anna in visiting the gym to meet with Paolo and observe the sessions. Nick had been away in Thailand for a kick-boxing clinic, and Rose was relieved she didn’t have to run into him whenever she came over. She had neither seen nor spoken to him since the “incriminating nipples” incident, as Anna took to calling it. Her face still burned from the memory. A part of her felt guilty for having ignored Nick’s phone calls and messages, but she told herself it was for the best. She’d already made it clear to him she wasn’t interested, and she didn’t want to be accused of giving mixed signals.

  But now he was back in the country and back in the gym for training. Naked from the waist up. Torso dewy with sweat. Breathing heavy from exertion. She tried not to ogle, she really did, but as any straight woman with a pulse would attest to, it was nearly impossible not to ogle while watching two seriously buff and good-looking men in a heated grappling match.

  After a few skilled twists, Rafael had his legs locked around Nick’s neck. The grappling coach yelled out instructions as Nick vainly struggled, only seconds away from tapping out. His ground game definitely needed improvement, Rose thought with a hint of worry. Nick was good on his feet, but she had followed the sport enough to know that there was no skill in MMA you didn’t need. The more well-rounded fighter was always the better fighter.

  “Hot damn,” someone whispered behind her. “What I wouldn’t give to be right there on the mat sandwiched between those two.”

  Rose turned at the sound of the voice. “Moira,” she frowned, “they are athletes and Jiu-jitsu is a serious sport. You shouldn’t sexualize them.”

  Hypocrite.

  Moira was Paolo’s new assistant and one of the women they had been helping with employment issues. She was fired from her previous job at a dental clinic for being “too sexy” and “too tempting” and had an on-going court case with her previous employer. Men could be utterly ridiculous like that.

  Rose thought that the gym would be a good fit for Moira. They didn’t have a dress code, and she couldn’t imagine anyone there having a problem with a girl showing a bit of skin.

  “How would you feel if the guys said those things about you behind your back?” Rose asked her.

  Moira fluffed her mane of red hair and ran her palms down her skintight dress. “Girl, I’d feel damn flattered. Why do you think I wore this dress?”

  Several guys, members of the gym, smiled their way as they passed by. Moira puffed with pride, enjoying the attention she drew while Rose suppressed an eye roll.

  “He’s coming here,” Moira muttered under her breath. “Quick, do I have something on my teeth?” She flashed Rose a smile.

  “What?” Rose frowned and whipped her head around. “Who are you talking—oh.” Oh.

  Nick was making his way to them, shirtless, barefoot, and hot as hell. He was looking right at her. Rose had to remind herself to breathe.

  “Hi Nick, can I get you anything? A towel? Some water?” Moira gushed as soon as Nick was near enough.

  His eyes momentarily flicked to the other girl. “You don’t have to do those things, Moira. But thanks anyway.” Nick smiled at her, easy and genuine. “I think I heard Paolo looking for you.”

  “Right,” Moira said with a nod. “Gotta get back to work. Bye Rose, and thanks again for getting me this job.” She gave her a little wave before sauntering away, hips swinging way more than necessary. Nick and Rose looked on.

  “I like her. Seems like a real go-getter.” Nick said.

  Rose snorted. Of course he liked her. Who wouldn’t? Moira was gorgeous and sexy and had freakishly long legs. She was vivacious, too. She made the guys laugh and she laughed at their jokes. She wasn’t uptight or serious or humorless. She didn’t constantly police their conversations for offensive language.

  “What Moira wants most in life is to be a ring girl. That’s why she really wanted to work here. She’s hoping you guys can put her in touch with the right people.”

  “Very ambitious of her,” Nick said.

  Rose did not detect a trace of sarcasm in his tone. She rolled her eyes. “You call wanting to be a ring girl ambitious? Oh please!” She found it hard to respect anyone who used their looks and sexuality to get ahead, especially women. They undermined everything she stood for.

  Nick levelled her with a serious look. “You’re a smart girl, Rose, and you got a good education and a rich daddy to pay for it. Those doors don’t open for everyone. Some people have to make do with what they have, whether it’s a pretty face or a strong left hook.”

  Rose winced from the rebuke and took an instinctive step back until she was pressed against a lacquered red brick wall. She’d insulted Moira in front of Nick and, without meaning to, she’d insulted him as well. “Right. Well, I’m just gonna go,” she said in a quiet voice, her throat constricting painfully. She was ashamed of her behavior. Nick had always been so proud of his humble beginnings, so he probably hated Rose now, and rightly so. But it was his fault, really. He made her feel…jealous. He’d reduced her to this person Rose never wanted to be, someone who’d put another woman down in front of a man to make herself look and feel better.

  Before she could slip away, he placed his palm flat on the wall, blocking her escape. Nick’s dark hair was damp and curly with sweat and beautifully tousled. Rose had to wring her hands tightly together to keep from reaching out and running her fingers through it.

  “When are we going to have dinner?” he asked with a smile that showed off his deep dimples.

  It was bewildering how he could go from scolding her one second to flirting with her the next. It left her head reeling. “I never agreed to it, Nick.”

  He smiled, undeterred. “So I’ll see you Friday night then? Around ten?”

  Guilt and desire quickly morphed into irritation. Some men didn’t know how to take no for an answer. She squared her shoulders and rose to her full height and then some, thanks to the extra four inches her heels gave her. “I don’t think you’ve been listening, or perhaps your hearing is selective. I never said I’d go out with you. In fact, I remember telling you I don’t want to go out with you.”

  Nick cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at her. T
his is where he slinks away and moves on to a more receptive target, she thought. Like Moira, maybe. This wall of hostility she surrounded herself with had always been effective at weeding out guys who were only after a good time. Good riddance, right? To her surprise, Nick just smiled. “I meant for Angelo’s birthday. It’s this Friday, at this new club in Ashland. Ring any bells?”

  “Oh.” She’d completely forgotten about that. Angelo had invited her and the others, her colleagues and the women they trained. She’d already told him she’d be there. Well, this is embarrassing.

  Nick leaned in closer and she caught a whiff of his scent, a mixture of soap and sweat and something else, something unique to him. It was so utterly male it gave her a delicious head rush.

  “So the guys really like you. I was gone a week and when I got back, I find you’re all BFFs now. Seems like you’ve been much friendlier with them than you have been with me. Why is that, Rosie?”

  Yeah, why is that, Rosie?

  “They don’t come on to me, for one thing,” she said. But maybe she shouldn’t have, because it made her sound arrogant, even to her own ears.

  “They better not,” he muttered, so low that Rose almost didn’t hear. “They know you’re mine.”

  “I’m not yours,” Rose said in a voice that she hoped sounded more angry than aroused. “I’m not anyone’s. I’m not a pet.” She was a highly educated, independent, thoroughly modern woman, dammit. She did not stand for any of that caveman bull. So why was she starting to get uncomfortably, embarrassingly wet between the legs?

  Nick started to say something, but Joe’s angry voice cut him off.

  “Nicky, get your ass in here!”

  Rose took that opportunity to duck under his arm and mumble a quick goodbye. She raced blindly out the gym’s main entrance, colliding straight into a solid wall of muscle.

  “Watch it.”