Spencer: Bad Boy MMA Cage Fighter : Bad Boy Fights The Fight Of His Life For His Girl! (An MMA Fighter Romance Book 1)

by P. T. Macias

“Are you done,” Dior yells, glaring at me?

  “Yeah, I am. I’m your babysitter, so behave if you don’t want me to put you in time out, or worse, give you a spanking. I’ll wait for you at the door, ready when you are,” I say, crossing my arms.

  Five

  Dior

  Oh my god!

  Spencer is something else.

  He’s enormous, gorgeous, and my guard.

  I love his light grey eyes framed by long black lashes; they’re absolutely stunning. Those lips are so damn tempting; I love a pair of beautiful full luscious lips.

  Yum!

  Spencer looks lethal, muscular, and not a man to mess with. Oh yeah, I need to stop checking him out because this is not good.

  Well, on second thought, I can make him do everything I want. Father wants me to have a babysitter, well I can use him.

  Oh yeah, we will have lots of fun.

  I can’t wait.

  “Right, I’ll get dressed because I have a lot of things to do today. I hope you can keep up with me,” I say, swaying my hips extra as I walk to the door with attitude stopping in front of him.

  I stare at his lips, seriously not smiling, well not that he can see. I’m going to drive him insane.

  Yeah, I am!

  I run my fingers over his full lips, gazing into his eyes.

  Spencer gazes into my amused eyes, nodding. He takes my hand in his, kissing my palm.

  He takes my breath away.

  Holly shit!

  “We can play anything you want. We can go anywhere you want, and I will take care of you, Dior,” Spencer says, rubbing his thumb over the rapid pulsing vein in my wrist.

  I stare at him, gasping for air. I can feel the soft red blush spread over my face. I always blush; I can’t stand it.

  I pull my hand out of his, scowling.

  “I’ll be back in a few,” I snapped, walking to the bathroom, tossing my hair over my shoulder.

  I know that Spencer is watching me.

  Awesome!

  My Father is not going to like me messing with my guard.

  Six

  Spencer

  “Asshole,” Dior yells, throwing her slipper at me.

  I duck, trying to hold my laughter.

  Yeah, but she misses.

  Fuck, she’s full of attitude.

  I watch Diorzella walk into the bathroom, slamming the door.

  Ouch.

  I shrug, walking out of the bedroom. A few minutes later, Ivy brings a breakfast tray to Dior’s room.

  “Spencer, here’s a breakfast burrito and a cup of coffee for you. I thought you might be hungry.” Ivy says, beaming, raising the tray towards me.

  “This is great, thanks, Ivy,” I say, opening the door for her. I take the burrito from the tray and the coffee cup.

  About half-hour later, Dior opens the door, staring at me.

  I grin, winking at her.

  “I’m ready to go shopping, and I need you to help me,” Dior says, smiling at me with her sexy red lips.

  Fuck!

  I know this girl is trouble with a capital T!

  Let’s not forget those lips.

  “Right, are you ready?” I say, squinting my eyes, taking in her devilish smile.

  “Yeah,” Dior says, walking out of her room carrying her huge Gucci bag. She’s wearing jeans, a soft black crop cashmere sweater, and black leather booties with five-inch heels.

  Oh yeah, she’s tall, she’s not a short woman by any means, even wearing these heels, I’m a good six inches taller.

  Dior shrugs her slim shoulders, grinning walks down the hall swaying her hips.

  Fuck!

  She’s killing me, and we just started.

  A few minutes later, we’re in the SUV. I pull out of the parking lot, onto the street, driving down the road, merging into the freeway.

  “Spencer, I’m so excited to go shopping and thrilled that you’re going to help me,” Dior says, looking at him through the rearview mirror.

  “Hmm,” I grunt noncommittally, staring at her through the rearview mirror for a few seconds, then I gaze back to the road.

  “Yeah, I know that you’re looking forward to it! Just you wait and see, we’re going to have so much fun,” Dior says, opening her bag.

  She pulls out her hand mirror and lipstick to reapply her red lipstick! She purses her luscious lips looking at me. She smiles, puckers up, blowing me a kiss.

  Fuck!

  “Hmph,” I grunt, squinting my eyes, looking at her in the mirror.

  I look back to the lane ahead; I exit the freeway onto the street. I drive down the road, pulling into Union Square shopping center parking garage. I drive down the aisle until I reach the top floor. I pull the SUVs into the parking space, turning it off grabbing the steering wheel.

  I look at Dior through the rearview mirror, watching her mischievous smile.

  “Come on, Spencer, I have lots of shopping to do,” Dior says, giggling.

  “Wait for me,” I growl, pushing open my door.

  Fuck!

  She opens the rear passenger door and gets off, not waiting for me.

  “Dior, you need to wait for me to open your door, and you need to stay at my side,” I snarl, shaking my head.

  She’s going to fucking kill me!

  And we just started!

  Fuck!

  Dior shrugs, waking into the Louis Vuitton shop, looks over her shoulder, sending me a sassy smile.

  I squint my eyes, looking at her mischievous smile, walking a couple of feet behind her, looking at her fine ass. I sigh; shaking my head; I force myself to look around the store, checking for any plausible threat.

  “Spencer, what do you think? It’s so cute, right?” Dior says, holding up the cream leather stylishly square oversized Onthego GM tote.

  I nod, standing next to her, crossing my arms.

  “Awesome, I’m glad that you like it. I’m taking it,” Dior says, handing the tote bag to the salesperson, grinning.

  She takes a step to get closer to me, placing her small hand on my arm.

  “I’m having so much fun, especially because you’re shopping with me. I want to get some cute bras and nighties at Victoria’s Secret. Would you please help me select some sexy lingerie?” Dior says winking.

  I stare at her stone-faced.

  I’m not answering that.

  Fuck no!

  “Thank you, I know that you will enjoy the tote,” the salesperson says smiling, pleased with the sale.

  “Thanks,” Dior says, handing me the bag. She turns, walks out of the store, taking sexy steps towards Victoria’s Secret, looking over her shoulder every so often.

  Dior walks into the store, chuckling at her naughty thoughts. She walks over to the table full of different types of lingerie in all colors. She smiles, pulls one up to look at it stretching it out, then she tosses it back. She does that with lots of different lingerie.

  Dior turns to look at me, pulls up one sexy black lacy thong.

  Fuck!

  Diorzella is killing me.

  “Spencer, what do you think? Is this sexy enough? What about color? Black? Red? White?” Dior asks, smiling, watching every muscle in my body tense.

  I grind my molars, looking at the small lingerie, swallowing. I gaze into Dior’s excited bright eyes.

  “Dior, any of those will work,” I say, nodding as I lower my eyelids halfway. I need to cover my reaction to her and the small material that she holds up.

  Fuck!

  I clench my hands, staring at her stone-faced.

  Dior selects a handful of lingerie and turns to hand them to me, giggling.

  “Spencer, please hold these for me. I need to look at the bras. I want them to match,” Dior says, walking over to the bras, looking at me innocently.

  I follow her, carrying the Vuitton bag in one hand and the lingerie in my other hand. I press my lips into a thin line, stopping next to her watching her stare at the bra closing my eyes.

  I can’t fuc
king stop the image of her wearing these sexy as fuck material.

  “Oh my god, Spencer, look at this cute bra! It matches the thong perfectly, don’t you think? Do you think it will look good on me?” Dior asks, innocently looking at me wide-eyed.

  “It will look amazing on you; in fact, anything you pick will be perfect,” I say in a raspy voice.

  “Aww, that’s so sweet of you,” Dior says, grinning. She picks several bras and hands them to me, patting my chest walks away.

  “I’m going to look at those cute baby dolls,” Dior says, gesturing to the rear corner.

  I follow her, looking at her swaying hips. Damn, she caught me watching her perfect ass.

  Yeah, she’s amused, and I’m fucking hard.

  “Spencer, look at this pleated baby doll! What do you think? Won’t this be just too sexy for me,” Dior says, looking innocently, raising her perfectly arched eyebrow?

  “Yeah, it will be perfect,” I croak, standing next to her.

  “Yes, I’m taking this one and that one,” Dior says, nodding. She grabs both baby dolls, amused looks over her shoulder at me, winking.

  “I’m ready to get these,” Dior says, nodding. She walks over to the cash register to pay.

  I follow her really close, handing her the lingerie, inhaling, and exhaling deeply. I attempt to stealthily adjust my raging hard flesh.

  “Spencer, I need to get some new swimming suits,” Dior says, wide-eyed, turning with the Victoria Secret bags.

  She hands them to me, grabbing my arm goes up onto her toes to kiss my lips softly, pulling back wide-eyed.

  “You’ve been so sweet and patient. Thank you,” Dior says breathlessly.

  I nod, clenching my jaw, inhaling deeply.

  “You’re welcome,” I say, gazing into her glittering eyes.

  “Let’s go, but I’m parched; I would like to get something to drink,” Dior says, walking out of the store. I follow her down the mall like a fucking puppy.

  Yeah, that’s how it feels.

  I know, I’m her guard but fuck!

  She goes to get some tea from Starbucks and then walks over to take a seat. She hands me a cup, grinning.

  I take a seat next to her, placing the bags on the small table. I take a drink of the tea, watching her closely.

  “Spencer, I’m almost done shopping, but I need to go to the spa. I know that you’re going to love it. I’m loving that you’re shopping with me,” Dior says, batting her eyelashes.

  I squint my calm gray eyes, looking at her over the rim of the cup as I take a drink of the tea.

  Two hours later is when she’s done. I thought she said that she’s almost done with her shopping.

  Fuck1

  I followed Dior out of the spa carrying the shopping bags. I grind my molars, shaking my head.

  Damn, she’s enjoying every single minute of this sweet torture. She insisted that I get a pedicure.

  Fuck!

  We walk into the parking garage, walking over to the black SUV. I open the vehicle, placing the bags inside. I open the right rear passenger door helping Dior into the SUV, closing the door. I walk over to the driver's side, opening the door, sliding inside, looking at Dior through the rearview mirror before starting the SUV.

  “Dior, would you like to go back home?” I ask, looking at her through the mirror.

  “Yes, I need to take a shower. Will you wash my back for me,” Dior asks, completely deadpan, raising her eyebrow challenging me.

  “Hmph,” I grunt, reversing the SUV out of the parking space.

  “Is that a yes, wonderful! I’m also going to need you to help me dress,” Dior says, grinning. She looks at her long fingernails, trying to control her laughter.

  “Right,” I say, nodding.

  Seven

  Dior

  A while later, I walk out of the bathroom in a fluffy dark fuchsia towel, grinning as I look at the closed door, shaking my head.

  OMG!

  He’s so damn hot, and I loved pushing his buttons while shopping.

  I know that Spencer was turned on.

  I love, love, love it!

  I think that I like him. I should thank my Father for giving me such a fantastic man toy.

  Yup, he’s going to be mine.

  I dress quickly in a sexy black dress, sliding on some red strappy high heels. I turn in front of the mirror and adjust my hair.

  I’m so excited that I can’t stop smiling.

  I grab my purse walking over to my bedroom door. I pull it open, grinning, ready to provoke Spencer.

  “Hey Spencer, I want to go out to the club,” I say, walking over to Spencer, sliding my arm through his.

  “Dior, you can go, but I need to go with you,” Spencer says sternly.

  Spencer looks down at me through hooded eyes, taking in my beautiful eyes as they twinkle impishly at him.

  A few minutes later, Spencer drives to the Excalibur club after picking up my BFF’s Candace and Jillian.

  We walk into the club, laughing and looking around the room. Spencer walks right behind us, keeping his head on a swivel, looking to the right and left, checking out the people.

  I walk over to the booth at the end, Jillian and Candance slide in next to me.

  The waiter immediately walks over, pushing a cart. He grabs a chilled bottle of champagne from the cart, popping it open, and pours the bubbling liquid into the long-fluted glasses. He places the bottle of tequila along with the shot glasses and limes on the table.

  “Thanks, Ben,” I say, smiling, bopping my head to the beat of the music.

  I take the glasses handing one to Jillian and Candace. I grab a glass, winking at Spencer, I take a sip.

  “Jillian, Candace, let’s toast to my gorgeous bodyguard, Spencer,” I say, smirking, tapping the glass to my friends’ glass.

  “Yes, to Spencer,” Jillian says, laughing, looking at him. She takes a long pull of the champagne.

  “Dior, you know that I’m in,” Candace says, grinning. She glances at Spencer, nodding winks at him.

  I look at Spencer over the fluted glass, drinking all of the champagne.

  Hell, yes, he’s so damn sexy.

  I set the glass down on the table, smiling at Spencer, turning to look out on the dance floor.

  “Jillian, Candace, let’s go dance,” I say, laughing, throwing back my head. I walk out to the dance floor, swaying my hips to the music. I pump my hands up, biting my lower lip, I gather my hair. I allow my hair to fall in a golden-brown cloud around my shoulders, turning to gaze into Spencer’s heated eyes.

  Spencer’s heat eyes gaze into my needy eyes.

  Yes, he’s going to fall right into my hands, and I’m thinking that I’m not letting him go.

  Spencer stands near the table, crossing his arms, staring at me, clenching his jaw. His eyes roam over my face, slowing down my slender neck, stopping at my breasts. He then looks down my stomach, hips, and down to my feet.

  Eight

  Dior

  I continue to tease and torment Spencer every day, all day long, during the following days. Spencer stays with me, shadowing my every move.

  Three weeks later, Spencer stands a few feet away from me on the Excalibur club's first floor.

  He looks around the club, watching for any threat. He then looks at me, throwing my head back, watching my golden-brown hair fall down my back, laughing.

  I look at him, gazing into his eyes, pursing my lips; I blow him a kiss as I dance around the dance floor.

  Candace and Jillian dance right next to me. We’re laughing and having a good time.

  Spencer watches me dance, laugh, and flirt with him. He crosses his arms, standing at the edge of the dance floor, grinding his jaw.

  Yeah, this is fun, and teasing Spencer is hilarious. I need to go to the ladies' room to freshen up a little; too many people on the dance floor make me sweaty.

  I don’t do sweaty.

  I walk off the dance floor, walking down the hallway towards the bathroom. I
stumble, I lean against the wall, straighten up, I hold onto the wall. I take a step when suddenly a hand grabs my arm, spinning me around.

  “What the hell?” I yell, looking up at the tall, muscular man. My eyes widen, and I try to pull my arm away from the bastard.

  “Hello, darling,” Roger says, pulling me closer to him. He leans down to stare at me; his eyes roam my face, sneering.

  “Let me go,” I yell, trying once again to free my arm from Roger’s vice-like grip.

  “Never, in fact, I’m taking you home with me,” Roger says, leering.

  “I don’t want to go with you; I hate you,” I yelled, glaring at him, I pull my arm, but his grip is tight.

  “Let me go! Help! Help,” I yell, looking around the room. I look around the club, frantically searching for Spencer.

  Where in the hell is Spencer?

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” Roger barks bitch slapping me.

  My head snaps back, my cheek stings, and my eyes water.

  I’m not going to cry.

  Roger will not break me.

  Roger doesn’t own me.

  Spencer runs down the hallway, grabs Roger by the neck, pulling him off me. He throws Roger against the wall, resting his muscular arm across Roger’s throat.

  “You’re not allowed to touch her! Why don’t you pick on someone your size, you fucking pussy,” Spencer growls, leaning his face close to Roger?

  Roger moves his arms up, pushing Spencer’s massive arms from him, pushing Spencer back.

  “Asshole, you’re getting involved in what’s mine, my business! So, fuck off,” Roger says, taking a step, and grabs my arm once again.

  “Motherfucker, let her go,” Spencer growls, swinging his arm back, and strikes Roger’s face with his fist.

  Roger lets go of me, falling to the ground. He looks up, dazed, trying to get up, gasping for air.

  “Dior,” Spencer says, grabbing my arms, pulling me away from Roger. He moves his hands up to cup my face, gazing into my scared eyes.

  “Dior, are you okay,” Spencer asks, running his fingers over my face that’s quickly turning black and blue, showing signs of a bruise. His turbulent gray eyes search my eyes, clenching his jaw tight.