The Undisputed Series

by Teague, A. S.

  Abby flew in the next day to help us move in, and by the time she’d left, the fridge was covered in memories.

  “Baby, the tickets?” Breccan asks, shaking me out of my trip down memory lane.

  I reach inside my purse and find the six tickets safely tucked inside. “Got ’em,” I tell him.

  After grabbing my sweater off the back of the chair, he hands it to me.

  I shake my head.

  He growls, “Just put it on, Sid.”

  Rolling my eyes, I snatch it from his hands. “Breccan, it’s October in Georgia. It’s eighty degrees today. Not to mention I’m a walking heating blanket right now.” I gesture at my belly.

  “Well, Olivia might get cold,” he argues.

  I decide not to fight the issue and slip my arms into the soft fabric.

  When we found out we were having a girl, Breccan insisted we name her Connor. While my heart melted at the idea, I knew there was no way in hell I was naming my daughter a boy’s name. We argued for weeks, finally compromising and deciding that her middle name would honor the boy we lost.

  The doorbell rings, and I turn, not bothering to walk to the door. A few moments later, Rebecca waltzes in, followed closely by Tripp. She’s carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and sparkling grape juice in the other.

  Smiling, she holds them both up. “A little pregame toast!” she shouts before rushing over and throwing her arms around my shoulders, nearly knocking me out with the bottles. “I’ve missed you!” she squeals. “Look how big you are!”

  “Oh, hell,” Breccan mutters behind me.

  Her eyes widen, and she mouths, “Sorry,” before hurrying toward the kitchen in search of cups.

  I let her comment slide. She’s right; I’m a beached whale.

  Tripp nods at me and follows her in. Then he digs through the fridge for a beer before coming up empty-handed, “Dude, where are your beers? Is this coconut water? What the fuck?” he mumbles.

  Breccan rolls his eyes and jerks a thumb in my direction. “Ask my wife.”

  Laughing, I tell him, “If I can’t drink, he can’t drink. Come back in two months. I’m sure the fridge will be stocked.”

  Breccan and I got married a year ago in a small ceremony on the beach in Costa Rica. It was intimate, with only the Tolers, my brother, and my sister in attendance. Breccan’s parents had been invited, but it was no surprise when they declined our invitation. I worried that Breccan would be bitter, but he shrugged it off and never mentioned it again. His father still calls occasionally to try to convince Breccan to join him in the family business, but the answer is always the same: Fuck. No.

  My wedding was everything I had always dreamed it would be—set on the beach with the jungle behind us. It was gorgeous and perfect, and I felt Connor’s presence beside me as I said, “I do.”

  The doorbell rings again, and I motion for Breccan to answer it. He pulls it open, and my sister walks in, followed closely by Pierre.

  Shocking the shit out of everyone, Abby did the one thing no one ever expected of her.

  She quit her job and got married to a French artist she’d met while on assignment.

  After rushing over to me, she pulls me into a warm embrace and whispers, “Look at you. You’re glowing.”

  I look deep into her eyes, expecting to see sadness. Instead, they sparkle with happiness.

  “So are you,” I whisper, squeezing her hand.

  It has been six months since I saw her last. Despite having settled down, she doesn’t come home often, saying that the memories were too painful.

  I wave to Pierre, who is already busy chatting with Breccan.

  Gazing around the room at the people gathered, I smile. Connor would have loved this. I know that, wherever he is watching us from, he is positively giddy.

  Clapping his hands together, Breccan shouts, “Are we ready?”

  A round of cheers goes up, and he strides over to me, asking, “You got the notebook?”

  Nodding, I pat my purse. “Right here.”

  We arrive at Turner Field half an hour later and settle into our seats in the skybox just in time to see the first pitch being thrown out.

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen. Here we go.” The announcer’s voice rumbles over the loudspeaker. “We’re tied at three-three going in to game seven of the World Series. It all comes down to this.”

  Unable to contain my excitement, I pull Connor’s notebook out. Breccan hands me a pen before squeezing my hand.

  Taking a deep breath, I cross off the final item on Connor’s bucket list.

  Bucket List:

  Skydiving

  Atlanta Falcons football game

  Meet swimsuit model Haley Nicole

  Have a white Christmas

  Shoot a zombie

  Draw a place to visit out of a hat and go that day

  Ball room dancing lessons

  Deep sea fishing

  Base Jump

  White water rafting

  Learn jiu-jitsu

  Learn to play guitar

  Meet Levee Williams

  Write a comic book

  Solve a Rubik’s cube

  Harry Potter Movie Marathon

  Pet a Kangaroo in Australia

  Drive a race car

  Learn to surf

  Swim with dolphins

  Chase a tornado

  Attend all 7 games of the world series

  “We did it,” I whisper. “We did it.”

  Breccan releases my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulders. After kissing my temple, he murmurs, “Of course we did. Together.”

  Undone: An Outside the Cage Novella

  Chapter One

  April

  Connor was gone.

  It had been fifteen months since I’d last seen his megawatt smile.

  Four hundred fifty-six days since I’d last laughed at one of his silly jokes.

  Ten thousand nine hundred fifty hours since I’d last heard him tell me that he loved me.

  And I felt his loss every minute, of every hour, of every day, since then. In the beginning, the pain had been nearly unbearable. A pain so deep and profound, that I’m convinced I wouldn’t have survived it if it hadn’t been for Breccan Carlisle.

  Breccan Carlisle, mixed martial arts play boy. The man who my sweet, funny, outgoing, and courageous nephew had idolized. The man who had granted a wish for the boy that was more my son than my sister’s. The man who had pushed his way in to our lives and in to my heart. The man who had held me together on that terrible day. The man who was still holding me as we set out on an adventure of a lifetime to do all the things that my twelve-year-old angel would never have the chance to do.

  In little more than a year, we’d completed seven items on his prized bucket list, Connor himself only having the chance to complete five of the twenty-two activities.

  It broke my heart every time I looked at the list, something I did often, if for no other reason than to see his messy scrawl. But the pain was often lessened when I reminded myself that Connor had been able to do some of the things, all of which were made possible by the sexy man seated beside me. And it was that man that helped ease the ache in my chest, each and every day.

  I take in his profile, admiring his strong jaw and the slight bend of his nose. He’s sexier to me now than he was when we first met in that club, me fumbling around on the floor while he watched with amusement.

  Breccan had devoted himself to making all of Connor’s wishes come true from the day that we’d met him. But lately, he’d become almost obsessed with the list, determined to fulfill my nephew’s dreams exactly the way he would have wanted to. I was in charge of keeping up with the notebook Connor had written the bucket list in, but Breccan had taken over the planning of every item. Sometimes I worried that he was just ready to be done with it, to move on, but then he’d say something, the love that he had for that kid shining through with each word.

  Two years ago, I would have been aggravated and anxious
at the loss of control. But now? Now, I knew that I couldn’t do it on my own. I needed Breccan’s help. And he needed to be able to do this for me. He’d been unable to do the one thing I wanted most of all––save Connor––and I knew that he held himself responsible, even though there was nothing he could have done. There was nothing any of us could have done. But still, even though he’d only admitted it to me once, I knew that he carried that guilt with him.

  I know that Connor is watching us, I can feel his presence with me. There’s no doubt he’s smiling and fist-pumping each time Breccan and I cross another item off his list. At times, that knowledge is the only thing that gets me through.

  “Sidney?” Breccan’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and I drop the Rubik’s cube I’ve been mindlessly spinning.

  “You okay?” He eyes my hands and then grabs the toys from my lap.

  I nod, a little too enthusiastically, and clear my throat. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

  He draws his eyebrows together, but doesn’t push. He begins spinning the colorful panels, but quickly gives up and hands it back to me. “You got the list?” he asks.

  “Oh!” I exclaim, and then reach in to my purse to exchange the cube for the notebook. The edges are worn, the spiral metal binding sticking out on the end, causes it to catch on the lining of my bag.

  “Shit!” I say, yanking on it.

  When the fabric rips, I curse loudly.

  Breccan places a large hand over mine, and coaxes gently, “You sure everything’s okay? You didn’t have much to say back there.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, the pain of Connor’s loss in my chest mixing with the jealousy lingering in my belly. When he squeezes my fingers, I slowly lift my lids.

  “Levee Williams is much prettier in person.” I tell him, forcing a bright smile to my face.

  His face dawns with realization, a look which quickly morphs into a sly smile. “Sidney O’Neil. Are you jealous?” he smirks.

  My cheeks pink with embarrassment. “What? Jealous?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lie, looking away from his penetrating gaze, and nervously toy with the end of my hair.

  It didn’t matter that she was married. I’d still felt the pang of jealousy in the pit of my belly when Breccan had embraced her in nothing more than a friendly hug. It didn’t make any sense, the way my stomach lurched when I saw his lips tip up in a smile at the gorgeous singer.

  Sure, he’d been friendly, but he hadn’t been inappropriate. His eyes didn’t roam her body, although I wouldn’t have blamed him if they had. From the beginning, Breccan had never once given me cause to worry about his love and devotion to me. Yet, that knowledge couldn’t stop the occasional insecurity from creeping up.

  She was gorgeous.

  Her hair was a beautiful shade of brown, her curls perfect in ways that mine would never be. Her eyes the color of whiskey, so deep and genuine that I nearly got lost in them when she turned her gaze in my direction. But it wasn’t just her physical attributes that made her a knock-out.

  No, what made her beautiful was what came from inside. She’d dedicated most of her adult life to giving back to children.

  Sick children.

  Children like Connor.

  My heart had twisted when I thought about what it would have meant to him to have been the one to meet her. When my eyes had filled with tears, I’d tried to push the thought to the back of my mind, to focus on the meet-and-greet with the superstar that Connor had secretly sang along with when her songs came on the radio. I’d smiled then, remembering the time I’d caught him belting out one of her songs in the shower, his embarrassment apparent in his adamant denial.

  Despite the fond memories, I’d struggled through the entire visit. She’d been gracious enough to accommodate our request, and I’d been truly grateful to her, but it wasn’t long before Breccan had picked up on my mood and wrapped things up.

  It still surprised me sometimes, how well he could read me, like I was an open book. He’d hustled us back to the plane he’d chartered to fly us out to California.

  I look out the window and realize I have no idea how long we’ve been in the air.

  Using his thumb and forefinger on my chin, he turns my head back to him and I notice that the smug smirk is gone. In its place, a mix of anger and lust shine from his eyes. He yanks the notebook from my hands and tosses it on my bag.

  Uh oh.

  “I––uh, I wasn’t––“

  He silences my stutters with his lips, crashing them to mine. The kiss is hard and rough, his tongue thrusting in to my mouth without waiting for my permission. He shoves his hand in to my hair, grabbing a fistful and anchoring my head in place. I have no choice but to match his pace and soon my nipples harden.

  The armrest of the plane’s seat is between us, making it nearly impossible to press my body to his, yet I try anyway. When the hard edge bites in to my belly, I let out a groan of frustration and Breccan breaks our connection.

  “Bathroom. Now.” He growls, pushing to his feet and stalking down the aisle.

  I take a moment to smooth down my hair and glance around at the small plane. The lone flight attendant is seated at the front, her attention focused on the paperback in her hands. The cover is dark, a silhouette of a lady on the front, and I make a note to ask what she’s reading later. I’m still trying to make out the title when I hear Breccan hiss my name.

  “Sidney. Now,” he commands, and I spring to my feet and hurry to the back of the aircraft.

  I’ve barely made it to the doorway of the bathroom when his hand shoots out and wraps around my forearm, pulling me into the tiny room with him. His large body takes up most of the space, and I’m forced to press against him in order to fit.

  “What are you jealous of, Sid?” he murmurs, his lips close to my ear.

  His breath is warm on my neck. A shiver of excitement races down my spine when I feel his tongue trace my jaw.

  Distracted by his hand that’s squeezing my breast, I again stammer, “I, uhm, I––“

  “Turn around.” He demands and I immediately obey.

  He presses his hips to mine and the length of his arousal nudges against my ass. Using the hand that isn’t cupping my breast, he gently grasps my jaw and brings my head up so that I can see our reflection in the warped bathroom mirror.

  “Feel that?” he growls, grinding his cock against me.

  “Yes,” I squeak, as he pulls my earlobe between his teeth, nipping. His eyes are still locked on mine as he rolls my nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

  “What am I looking at?” he asks.

  My eyebrows crease in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean,” I whisper.

  Slower this time, he repeats, “What. Am. I. Looking. At. Sidney?”

  “Me?” I ask, still not quite sure what he’s asking.

  “Right,” he clips, releasing my jaw and moving his hand to the button of my jeans. He wastes no time unbuttoning them, his hand slipping inside my panties.

  Wet from our quick make-out session, and the way he growled my name, his finger glides over my clit, causing me to arch against him.

  “Yes,” I whimper.

  He continues to roll my nipple. “And what are you?”

  I’m confused again, but unsure if it’s his question or the fog of arousal that’s clouding my mind. Uncertainty must have shown on my face, because he answers for me.

  “You’re mine.”

  Realization dawns. “Yes, yours,” I agree, my lids drooping as the hand that’s been working my clit pushes deeper in my pants. He slides a finger inside me, and I let out a breathy moan.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I do as I’m told and Breccan’s beautiful blue eyes pin me. He doesn’t speak, the only sounds the hum of the aircraft and my breathing, ragged from arousal.

  My orgasm builds rapidly as I moan, “Don’t stop, Brec.”

  Abruptly, he does the opposite of what I
’ve asked, and I protest loudly as the loss of his finger leaves me feeling empty.

  His hand releases my breast and brusquely he shoves my jeans and panties down, quickly repeating the action with his own pants. A shot of excitement fills me when he positions the head of his cock against my entrance.

  With one hand on my hip, he once again uses his free hand to grasp a fistful of my hair, tilting my head to the side, licking and sucking along my neck. When his lips reach my ear, he growls, “This is the last time.”

  “The last time?” I repeat in question.

  “The last time you ever get fucking jealous of another woman.”

  “Oh,” I reply, the flush of arousal turning to embarrassment.

  “I only want you.” He pushes his hips into mine, entering me a fraction of an inch, but not nearly enough.

  “Please.” I beg, pressing back against him. He flexes his fingers that hold my hip and I still.

  “I will always only want you.” Again, he pushes himself inside me, but only enough to tease.

  “Okay.”

  “What I don’t want is for you to ever think otherwise.” He licks my ear and I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth, nodding.

  “Promise me, Sidney. This is the last time.” His eyes are intense, the lust shining through, almost completely overshadowing the worry that he’s working so hard to conceal.

  But I see it there, the concern, and if I weren’t so worked up, I’d laugh at the thought that he was worried about losing me.

  I nod once more, but he gives a quick shake of his head. “Say it out loud.”

  “I promise, Breccan.”

  The corner of his mouth tips up and he growls, “Now, tell me what you want.”

  “You. I want you. Inside me now, fucking me.”

  With a rough thrust, he fills me completely while clamping his teeth down on my neck.

  I cry out in pleasure as he slams in to me, repeatedly. Releasing my hair, he slides his free hand over my breast, squeezing roughly before gliding it down my belly. His finger finds my clit, swollen from desire and with just a few passes, my body begins to shake, the orgasm I was so close to earlier barreling through me.