Trouble, he scoffed. As if.
And then there was a light cough from behind him, and James MacDonald span around.
Staring up at him, sipping her Cosmopolitan through a straw, was Toni Rome.
Chapter Fourteen
Toni
“Baller told me that I wasn’t to talk to you again,” Toni looked up at the handsome British fighter with a smirk. “Under no circumstances whatsoever.”
She sipped her drink.
“So, naturally, I’m here.”
James’ big, blue eyes widened. His lips curled.
“I like you, Ms. Rome,” he grinned. “You’re fearless.”
“Yeah, well, so are you. You stood your ground when Baller was getting all up in your face just now.”
James pursed his lips.
“What was that all about, by the way? Haven’t had anybody yell, ‘You lookin’ at my girl?’ in a long time.”
Toni snorted.
“Well, Baller likes to swing his dick around. Doesn’t like the idea that people think they’re better than him.”
James thoughtfully sipped his whiskey.
“I’m surprised a top-tier athlete like him has an insecurity issue.” His eyes flashed mischievously, flicking downward towards his crotch. “Is he compensating for something? Is Hannibal the exception to the rule when it comes to how well-endowed black men are?”
Toni’s cheeks burned red, and she giggled.
“Well, Baller’s doing just fine in that department,” she promised. “He’s hung like an anaconda. But you’re not wrong – he’s got an insecure streak.”
She sipped her cosmo through the straw. It was an oddly dainty little maneuver – kind of characteristic of this curvy, classy little contradiction.
Toni Rome looked like a model, but had a mouth and an attitude straight off the streets of southeastern L.A.
“Truth be told,” she whispered conspiratorially, sidling up to James so closely that he could smell her perfume, “Baller’s super insecure about his upbringing.”
“What upbringing?” James snorted. “That kids straight out of the ghetto. We’d call him a ‘chav’ back in Britain.”
“Well, that’s just the thing,” Toni confided. “He ain’t.”
She shrugged her slender shoulders. “It’s all an act, England. He was born and brought up in Hartford, Connecticut. He was on the honor roll, played in the soccer team. He’s got a bachelor’s degree in fine arts – some real Huxtables crap.”
James blinked. He didn’t understand the reference.
“That’s why he puts on the act so hard. He wants everybody to think he’s some tatted up hoodrat – but in reality, he’s back home in Hartford with Mom and Pop twice a month, going out for brunch.”
James snorted. Funnily enough, he could actually sympathize with that.
“I’m gonna go powder my nose,” she handed James her glass. “Could you be a sweetheart and get me a refill?”
James looked down, into her pretty, flat face. With her chocolate complexion, and little button nose, and those huge brown eyes and full, plump lips, she was absolutely beautiful.
“Surely,” he grinned, grabbing her glass.
Chapter Fifteen
James
“If you’d shown balls like that back in the octagon,” Taffy laughed, barreling up to James as the tall Scotsman leant at the bar, “you might have knocked that black bastard down.”
Rolling his eyes, James turned and looked down at his little Welsh trainer. The tiny old man was red in the fact, eyes burning with intensity. As tough as the old guy was, it didn’t take more than two fingers of Scotch to get him riled up like this.
“What are you talking about, Taffy?”
“Chatting up that bastard’s bird,” Taffy grinned. “That cute little number in the skinny dress.” He sucked his breath in through his teeth. “That’ll teach the cunt – sleep with his girl.”
James laughed.
“I hardly think it’s going to come to that,” he grinned. “We were just talking.”
But then the idea found traction inside his head.
It would be oddly poetic. And there was no question that Toni Rome was one of the most intoxicatingly attractive women he’d met in a while. Sassy and exotic – she was like no other girl he’d known.
And the delicious irony of it all. After enduring all of Hannibal Alexander’s slights, slurs, and downright rudeness – it would be pretty amazing to get his own back in the most brutal of all possible ways; by seducing his girlfriend.
But James shook his head.
“You’re nuts,” he laughed. “It’ll never happen.”
Taffy handed James the two drinks he’d ordered.
“Don’t be so sure of that, boyo. I can see she’s into you, as well.”
Chapter Sixteen
Toni
“You’re playing with fire, girl.”
Toni gasped, and span around. Hand to her thumping chest, she found Delwood Grey glowering down at her, brown eyes burning intently.
“What the fuck are you doing in here, Woody?” Toni snapped. “You scared the shit out of me. This is the women’s bathroom.”
“I said: You’re playing with fire, girl.” Delwood jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Flirting with that cracker? What the fuck’s gotten into you?”
“We were just talking, Woody,” Toni rolled her eyes.
She snarled, and turned back to the mirror – reaching into her clutch for her lipstick. Delwood’s surprise appearance was more schoolboy intimidation crap. She was from the ghetto – it would take a lot more than that to put her on edge.
“I mean it, girl,” Delwood warned. “People are already gossiping out there.” He shrugged non-committedly. “Baller wouldn’t like it if you were making him look bad.”
With a snarl, Toni wheeled around.
“Baller makes himself look bad,” she snapped. “Fuck, I’ll do a lot for that boy of mine – but I’m not gonna let him dictate who I can and can’t talk to.”
Then she narrowed her eyes, and growled at Delwood: “Is that all you came in here for? Or do you need to borrow my lip-liner?”
Delwood growled.
“You just watch yourself, Missy,” he sneered. “Hannibal pulled your ass out of the ghetto. We can send it back just as easy.”
Toni laughed. It was menacing.
“Honey,” turning around, she clip-clopped over to Delwood, and placed a manicured finger on his chest, “you try and send me anywhere, and I’ll send you to the morgue.” She licked her lips, eyes flashing. “And don’t pretend you don’t know I’m capable of that.”
Delwood’s brown face drained of color a little.
“I-I’m just warning you, Toni,” he tried to keep blustering, but the crack in his voice was evident.
Toni just laughed, in his face. And then, turning on her heel, the little African American woman sashayed out of the bathroom with her round bottom swaying.
Delwood watched it go, and swallowed dryly.
Chapter Seventeen
James
Okay mate, James told himself. You can do this.
It was funny. He’d just gone five rounds with arguably the best heavyweight fighter in the UFC – but his pre-fight jitters had nothing on the nervous anticipation he felt waiting to see Toni again.
But seconds later, there she was – clip-clopping on her 6” heels, and smiling wickedly.
James drank her in as she approached – that delicious, brown skin, those seductive curves, highlighted by her skin-tight dress. She was incredible.
“Hey, sugar.”
James offered Toni the cosmo she’d ordered, and she accepted it gratefully, taking a sip from the black straw hanging over the edge of the cocktail glass.
“So, Toni,” James grinned, “I had something to ask you…”
And Toni’s eyes flashed mischievously when she heard him speak.
“So do I, honey,” she whispered.
James co
cked his head on one side, and waited for her to speak first.
Toni licked her lips, and took a step closer.
“So… You want to get out of here?”
James had taken dozens of punches from Toni’s boyfriend earlier than day; but this was the closest one came to delivering a knockout.
Absolutely stunned, James just blinked.
Had he heard her right?
“Yeah,” as if reading his mind, she nodded. “You heard me right.”
A smile spread across the fighter’s face. Toni saw it, and blushed a delicious shade of red.
“Now, you’ve got to be discreet, baby,” she murmured, looking left and right nervously. “If the press get wind of this, it won’t be my boyfriend you have to be afraid of.”
James smiled wickedly.
“My hotel is five minutes from here.”
“Good.” Her eyes flashed as she seductively sipped her drink. “Go out and bring your car ‘round back. I used to perform here – there’s a rear entrance I can use.”
A smile came to James face.
Draining his glass of Chivas in two long swallows, the handsome fighter nodded.
“I’ll be there in five,” he told her.
Toni sipped her drink again.
“I don’t know if I can wait that long.” Her eyes flashed mischievously. “I’ve been wondering all night what’s worn under that kilt – and now I get the chance to find out for myself.”
James laughed wickedly.
Leaning in close, he winked at Toni and told her: “Nothing’s worn under the kilt. It’s all in good working order.”
And then he made a move for the exit.
Chapter Eighteen
James
Holy shit, James thought, as he headed for the entrance.
He’d thought making a play for Hannibal’s gorgeous girlfriend was just a whiskey-fueled shot in the dark. Now that curvy little cutie was headed out back, waiting to rendezvous with him.
He couldn’t believe his luck, or her audacity.
“Hey, boyo!”
Taffy Evans, staggering out of nowhere to block James’ path, was not expected, or welcome.
“Taffy, I have to go,” James grabbed his trainer by the shoulders and looked into his dilated eyes. “Are you going to be okay? You look a little wasted, mate.”
“I-I’ll be fine,” Taffy grinned – and as a veteran of the Falklands war, James figured the little Welshman would be more than capable of looking after himself. “W-where are you going?”
James looked into the eyes of his most loyal friend. A man who’d become practically a father to him since he entered the world of MMA fighting.
He couldn’t lie to Taffy.
Also, if he didn’t tell somebody, he was going to explode.
“I’m taking Toni back to my hotel,” James hissed. “Don’t tell a fucking soul.”
Taffy’s eyes widened. He raised his glass, sloshing whiskey over his hand.
“Good for you, boyo,” he hiccupped.
“Taffy, you have to keep it quiet,” James insisted. “If the press find out…”
“No, no, I’m all fine,” Taffy winked. “Won’t tell a soul. Take that one to my grave, I will.” Then he leaned in closer, breathing whiskey fumes all over James. “Just stick it to her good. When you send her back to her boyfriend, make sure she’s walking funny.”
James shook his head. Classy as always, that old Taffy was.
Patting his drunken friend on the shoulder, James headed for the door.
Chapter Nineteen
Toni
Waiting by the rear entrance of Perlé was uncomfortably familiar to Toni. She’d stood in the awning, nostrils filled with the scent of the chicken place next door, more than half a dozen times before.
She hadn’t always been proud of herself when she’d stood there. Once it was to rendezvous with a married rapper, and give him head in the back of his limo, while he was on the phone to his wife. Another time, she’d gone home with a music producer, who’d handed her a wet wipe when he’d finished, and a record deal six days later.
But tonight, at least, she felt in charge of the decision. And she felt like the man she was heading off with was respectful of her.
Honk! A black Lincoln Town Car was rolling down the alleyway. As it pulled to a halt, the back door swung open and James MacDonald clambered out.
He was such a tall, burly guy, it was almost like somebody climbing out of a clown car.
Giggling at the mental image, Toni accepted the door he held open for her, and climbed into the back of the limo.
James shut the door behind him with a clunk, and the Limo rolled off.
The leather was cool beneath Toni’s thighs, as she looked around the back of the limo. Then she turned to James MacDonald, head bent to avoid hitting the roof, and smiled at him.
“You know, this is probably a bad decision.”
“Well, I’m so glad you chose to make it with me.” And, with that, he sidled up closer to her, until they were sitting side-by-side.
His big hands reached out to curl around her slender waist.
“Yo, wait,” Toni jerked her thumb towards the driver. “Is he cool? I don’t want word of this getting out.”
The tinted partition rolled down slowly, and the driver looked up at them through the rear view mirror.
“Tip me a hundred dollars and I can be cool. Make it three hundred and I wouldn’t even tell the F.B.I. who I had riding in the back.”
James laughed bitterly.
He reached down into his sporran – the leather bag hanging over the front of his kilt – and pulled out three crisp, hundred dollar bills. Then, leaning over, he passed them through the partition and the driver accepted them cheerfully.
“I’ve already forgotten your names,” the driver nodded. “If anybody asks, I’ll tell ‘em I was driving two chicks in short skirts home.” Then he peered up at the mirror, and saw James’ kilt. “Although maybe that’s not so far from the truth.”
James narrowed his eyes.
“Just close the fucking partition.”
And, a moment later, they were purring down the city streets in solitude.
Chapter Twenty
James
James clambered back the rear of the limo, and sat down next to Toni. For a moment they were silent, and James just looked at her, drinking the petite little black girl in.
The tight dress. That curvy figure. The pretty face.
“My God,” he breathed. “You are fucking gorgeous.”
Toni blushed. It was beautiful.
“Just so you know,” she grinned, flashing brilliant white teeth, “I don’t do this very often.”
“Ride in limos?”
“Go home with strangers,” she hissed.
“Well,” James chuckled. “I’m hardly a stranger. I was on the cover of MMA Monthly last June.”
She laughed. It was musical.
James leaned in closer, and drank in a lungful of her perfume. Then, leaning forward, he kissed her.
It was unbelievable.
Toni’s lips were plump and soft. They opened instantly to his kiss, and Toni squirmed in her seat; allowing James to curl his big hands around her waist.
It was like no other kiss he’d had before. She was literally intoxicating. The feel of her compact little body in his hands, and the warmth of her soft lips, soon had blood rushing between his legs.
With a wet smack, Toni pulled her mouth away.
“So before we go any further, I have a question…”
James had to gulp dryly. He had butterflies in his stomach, and an almost physical need to press his lips against hers again.
“W-what can I tell you?” He panted.
Toni’s eyes flashed. She giggled girlishly.
“What happens,” the beautiful black girl asked, pointing at his kilt, “when you get a hard-on while wearing one of those things?”
James leaned in, and kissed her again.
; “You’re about to find out,” he warned her.
Chapter Twenty One
Toni
How many nights had Toni ended this way?
She tried to remember, and wasn’t exactly proud of herself.
Once again, she getting hot and heavy in the back of a limo. Once again, she had butterflies in her stomach, and her heart was racing, and she was feeling increasingly damp between her legs.
But tonight, there was something different about it.
And she wasn’t just talking about the kilt.
“Kiss me again,” James demanded, and pushed her back in the leather seat.
Toni gasped as the big, strong man forcefully pinned her to her seat. A moment later, he was leaning over her, his lips against hers, and his tongue slithering into her mouth.
He tasted of whiskey, and she was getting drunk on it.
Her slender hand moved down onto James’ knee, and for a moment she was surprised to encounter bare skin. Then her hand slid upwards, under the rigid material of his plaid kilt, and she giggled a little at the experience.
James pulled his mouth away.
“Laughing isn’t what most guys like to hear in a situation like this.”
Toni giggled even harder.
“I’m sorry,” her cheeks burned red. “I was just thinking how crazy it was… Normally it’s guys trying to stick their hands up my skirt.”
“Well, give me time,” James said softly. “I just haven’t finished kissing you yet.”
And that made Toni melt into him.
“Well, take your time,” she grinned, pulling James in close. “We’ve got no reason to rush.”
Chapter Twenty Two
James
As it happened, they didn’t actually have all that much time.
Within minutes, the limo was pulling to a halt in the forecourt of the Hilton, and eager concierges were already gathering to open the door for them.
FIGHT NIGHT #1: Three Story MMA Romance Bundle Page 10