Thunderstruck: An MMA Bad Boy Romance Page 5

  She’s standing at the counter staring blankly into a half empty glass of orange juice when I come into the kitchen.

  Dressed in a white sundress and blue jean jacket that hides her small baby bump, her hair hangs in dark waves down her back.

  Gorgeous.

  There’s a little color in her cheeks today, and she doesn’t look as exhausted as she did the first day I brought her here.

  “Are you going out?” I ask, pouring a cup of coffee she must have brewed earlier.

  “I was thinking of going to the—” Her eyes widen when she sees me, gaze trailing down my bare chest. Red infuses her face, and she quickly looks away. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

  I chuckle, reaching past her to put the coffee pot back, my arm brushing against hers. “It’s never bothered you before.”

  “I just think…” She trembles when I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “You think what?”

  “That we should have a few rules.”

  “Shirt rules?” I grin and lean against the counter.

  “And pants.” She looks anywhere but at me.

  “I don’t usually walk around with no pants on.”

  “Right.” She glances down and her tongue darts across her bottom lip. I swear I can see the dirty thoughts that go through her mind.

  I chuckle. “Although I can change that if you want.”

  Her gaze jerks to mine. “You should keep your pants on.”

  For now. But trust me sweetheart, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to take them off.

  “I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week, and I thought we could go shopping.” I take a sip of my coffee.

  “Shopping?” She frowns.

  “For baby things. I don’t know what exactly you need, but I’m sure there’s a lot.”

  “You want to go baby shopping with me?” She's still frowning, giving me a look that says she thinks I’m up to something.

  “I know you still have time before you’ll need things.” I lean against the counter, watching as she tries unsuccessfully not to let her gaze fall to my chest. “Unless you want to wait?”

  “No. That would be nice.” Her lips twist up in a small smile.

  “Good.” I finish my coffee and place the cup in the sink, then turn back to her, and grin. “I guess I’ll go put a shirt on now.”

  I hear her small quivering breath when I walk away.

  Maybe things aren’t as hopeless as they seem. Or maybe I’m just more of an idiot than I thought. Either way, having her here in my apartment, I’ve come to one conclusion. Kennedy will be mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

  Chapter 8

  Kennedy

  Thunder isn’t making it easy not to confuse this thing between us. And at times I wonder if he isn’t doing it on purpose.

  I watch as he inspects a stroller that the saleswoman is showing him.

  Already he’s purchased a crib, and all the bedding to go with it, along with a matching change table, a basinet, and a bunch of other things I didn’t even know I needed. If I don’t get him out of here soon, I’m pretty sure he’ll buy the entire store.

  I don’t know why it bothers me, that he wants to help, but it does. Not because I don’t want him. There’s nothing in this world I want more. But my chest squeezes harder, tighter, every moment I spend with him.

  He’s looking at me now, like he’s expecting an answer. “What do you think?”

  “About?”

  “The stroller.”

  “It’s fine. But it’s too expensive.”

  The sales lady frowns at me and purses her lips, then looks back at Thunder with a flirty smile, battering her long, fake eyelashes up at him. “It is ten percent off this week.”

  “See.” Thunder grins. “It’s a steal.”

  I shake my head, but I can’t help but chuckle. “Okay. Get the stroller.”

  His grin widens like a kid in a candy store who was just told he could have whatever he wanted.

  All of a sudden, a wave of dizziness makes the room spin, and I’m reaching out for something, anything, to steady myself.

  Thunder is beside me, hands gripping my elbows. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just a little dizzy.”

  “Let’s get you home.”

  “I’m okay. Really.” I’m fine now. Just a little nauseous. “I just need to sit down for a second.”

  He’s still frowning when he helps me to one of the floor model rocking chairs. “You’re sure?”

  I nod.

  “Okay, then I’ll just go pay, then we’ll go home.”

  I force a smile and watch him walk to the sales desk.

  “Your husband seems very attentive.” A younger woman who had been helping us earlier, before the flirtatious blonde stepped in, hands me a glass bottle of juice. She rubs her own extended belly. “You’re lucky. A lot of fathers would rather be anywhere but here.”

  I start to correct her, then stop myself, thanking her instead for the drink. I uncap the juice and take a small sip, glancing over at Thunder who’s watching me from the checkout counter.

  “How far along are you?” she asks.

  “Thirty-eight weeks.” I rub my hand over my stomach. Saying it aloud, knowing how little time I have left, makes it seem so much more real.

  “Oh, wow. You’re so tiny.”

  I try not to get offended. I get it a lot when I tell people my due date, but according to my doctor, everything is fine, and the baby is growing perfectly.

  I give Thunder a grateful smile when he approaches.

  “Ready?”

  I nod and let him guide me out of the store.

  He’s quiet on the drive home. Pensive. Broody. Typical Thunder. But I feel like something has changed between us. I just don’t know what it is.

  “Do you want to watch a movie?” I ask when we’re back in his apartment, sitting on his large L-shaped couch, groaning the minute I’m off my feet.

  “Sure.” He sits down on the other side of me, lifting my legs and placing my feet in his lap.

  There’s more than enough room for him to sit without touching me, but I’m grateful for the contact, especially when he starts rubbing my feet.

  I can’t help the small moan that escapes my lips.

  “Feels good?”

  A small nod is my only response, because him touching me, even just a foot rub, has my whole body humming with need.

  Diverting my attention, I grab the remote, turn on the television, and flip through the channels.

  “Shit,” I mutter, when a stab of pain squeezes my belly.

  “What?”

  I breathe through it. “She’s kicking again.”

  “Is it supposed to hurt that much?” He looks worried.

  “I have a tiny human rolling around inside of me, it’s not exactly comfortable.”

  His lips thin, and I can tell he wants to ask me something.

  “What?”

  “Can I…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Can I feel?”

  Oh.

  I suck in a shaky breath and nod.

  Slowly, he stands, then shifts behind me, so that one leg is on one side of me and my back is against his chest.

  This isn’t what I expected, but I don’t stop him.

  Can’t.

  Not when his arms circle me, and his palms rest on my belly.

  I’m stiff. Waiting. Not sure what to do.

  “Relax,” he whispers in my ear.

  Not possible. Not with him touching me. But I lean back further, melting against his chest, and close my eyes.

  His touch. The warmth of his breath on my cheek. It makes my body hum with need.

  God, I love this man.

  And this… it’s torture.

  Even though I know I shouldn’t, that I’m only asking for trouble, I snuggle back against him, sucking in a small breath when I feel his hard erection pressed against my backside.

  He wants me?
>
  Or maybe I’m imagining it.

  But I know there’s no mistaking the long, thick length that’s pressed against me, or the way his own breath hitches when I snuggle back further.

  Focus on the movie, Kennedy.

  He’s making it nearly impossible.

  A sharp kick right where one of his hands is, makes him laugh. “Did you feel that?”

  I chuckle. “Yes.”

  “Amazing.” There’s awe in his voice.

  His cheek is against mine, his hands still placed protectively over my stomach, and a sense of rightness fills me. But it’s quickly replaced by fear.

  I sit up, then stand abruptly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t…” Tears prick at my eyes, and panic squeezes my chest. “I can’t do this.”

  Not again.

  Chapter 9

  Thunder

  Nine Months Earlier…

  I haven’t heard from Kennedy since she stormed out of my apartment a couple nights ago.

  It’s the longest we’ve been apart since my accident, and I fucking hate it.

  I know I was a complete ass the other night, but I couldn’t help myself. When she mentioned Colin and going to fucking Los Angeles with him, I went all caveman, ready to pound my chest and claim her as mine.

  But I can’t.

  She’s not mine. Doesn’t want me. And even if she did, I’m no fucking good for her.

  Just a washed up ex-MMA fighter with nothing to offer but a bad temper and a lifetime of rehab.

  Still, the thought of her with Colin makes my blood boil.

  Call her, asshole, my head screams.

  I leave tomorrow morning, and I’ll be on the road for at least a month. Not sure when I’ll be back, and the last thing I want is to leave things the way they are. I may be a selfish prick, but I still care about her. More than I fucking should. And if all I can ever have with her is friendship, then I’ll take it. Because a life without Kennedy in it, is no fucking life at all.

  There’s a knock on my door, and a flood of adrenaline races through my veins, praying to hell that it’s her. But usually she would just use her key to come in.

  I open the door.

  Kennedy.

  Happiness quickly turns to concern when I see her.

  Her eyes are swollen and red from crying, and my heart slams into my chest, thinking the worst.

  “What’s wrong?” I push the door wider, and pull her into the apartment, shutting the door behind her.

  “Lu-Lucy.” The name catches on a sob.

  Who the hell is Lucy?

  The second my arms wrap around her, she starts shaking, and more tears stream down her cheeks.

  “I can’t… I can’t…” Her words are muffled as she cries into my chest. “Can’t believe someone would be that cruel.”

  “Who?” I take her face in my hands, palms resting on her cheeks, and force her to look at me. She’s scaring the shit out of me. “Take a deep breath and tell me what happened. Who’s Lucy?”

  “The… yellow lab that… came into the center… a few days ago.” She hiccups through her words.

  I let out a small breath. This is about one of her rescue animals. She’s so freaking sensitive about them.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand and takes a steadying breath. “We knew she’d given birth recently, but the person who brought her in didn’t know where the pups were.” A shudder rips through her and she pinches her eyes shut. “But today–”

  So damn sensitive. It’s one of the things I love about her. But I hate seeing her like this. Her heart exposed. Broken.

  “Today?” I ask.

  “They found them. Someone had left them in a crate by the side of the road. There were eight of them…” She looks up at me, eyes glazed, and shakes her head, more tears sliding down her cheeks. “They were out there too long.”

  “I’m sorry.” I press my forehead against hers, not letting go.

  “One of the pups survived, but the vet doesn’t know if he’ll make it through the night.”

  I can tell by the slight slur in her words that she’s been drinking, which isn’t like her. Something else is going on. This isn’t just about the dogs.

  “Go sit down and I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  She shakes her head, and when she starts to turn, I see her wobble. Damn. She must have had more to drink than I thought. I grab her, pulling her towards me.

  “You’ve been drinking.”

  “So.”

  “Did you drive here?”

  “No. Of course not. I’m not an idiot.” She juts her chin up at me. “I shouldn’t have come. I know you told me not to bug you anymore. I just needed… I needed…” Her body sways and more tears stream down her cheeks. “I don’t feel well.”

  Shit.

  “Come on.” I pick her up easily, and she lets out a small gush of air.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to bed.”

  “Oh.”

  I look down at her, caramel eyes blinking up at me in surprise, and maybe something more.

  Lust.

  Desire.

  Need.

  Or maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see.

  “The guest bed,” I say quickly. “You can sleep there tonight.”

  I swear her lips turn down in a little pout, but she doesn’t argue with me, not until I place her on the bed, take off her shoes, then pull the comforter over her shoulders.

  “Don’t go,” she says, catching my arm. Big eyes blinking up at me in the dim light.

  My chest constricts.

  What is she asking?

  “Kennedy…”

  “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please.”

  How the hell am I supposed to say no to that? It’s not like it will be the first time we’ve slept side by side. Shit, she’s slept here more than she’s been at her own apartment in the last few months, and most nights we fall asleep on the couch together.

  But this feels different. Her plea. The way she’s looking at me. It feels like something more.

  I crawl in beside her and lay on my back. Instantly, she’s snuggled up against my side.

  Warm fingers find the hem of my shirt and flitter underneath, resting on my abs.

  I’d have to be a fucking saint to resist her. And I’m far from it.

  She snuggles against me, and I lose my mind.

  This.

  Her.

  It’s everything.

  And when she lifts her mouth to mine, I know I’m done.

  Soft.

  Gentle.

  Time freezes.

  The rest of the world falls away and there’s just us.

  No bullshit stopping me from taking the only woman I’ve ever loved. No alcoholic father, no asshole brother. Just her and me.

  I pull her tighter, my erection pressing hard against the rough fabric of my jeans. Straining with need.

  My heart protests.

  I can’t do this.

  Shouldn’t do this.

  Can’t ache for things I know I can never have.

  It’ll break me.

  Fuck, I’m already broken.

  She will shatter me.

  Her fingers move under my shirt, across my chest and a soft moan leaves her lips.

  “Liam,” she says my name, my real name, and it undoes me. She’s the only fucking person in this world that is allowed to use it. On her lips, it sounds right, good. Not the piece of shit I know that name really belongs to.

  “Please?” she says, the word vibrating against my mouth as she continues to kiss me softly.

  How the hell I’ve managed not to rip every shred of clothing off her is beyond me. But when, if, I take her, I want it to be right. To be perfect.

  But right now, there’s only the taste of her, and it tears away at the last amount of self-restraint I’m holding onto.

  Every touch and kiss
pulses with intense heat, making me burn for more.

  “Kennedy,” I say, her name as a warning. If we start this, there’s no turning back.

  It will change everything.

  She clings to me. “Please.”

  “I want us to be together. To be…”

  To be what?

  Do I even know?

  Maybe not. I just know I need her.

  Her fingers are in my hair, pulling my mouth to hers, deepening the kiss.

  And I know she wants me too.

  At least in this moment.

  “Say it,” I growl against her lips. “Say you want this. That you want me.”

  She pulls back slightly, her gaze holding mine, so much fucking emotion is flittering across the amber depths. “I want you.”

  That’s all I need.

  All reservations are gone.

  I kiss her hard, demanding, with all the possessiveness I’ve felt for her over the years and never been able to express.

  Mine.

  Mine.

  Mine.

  My lips lift from hers only long enough to pull my shirt over my head, to do the same to hers, shredding every piece of fabric that’s between us.

  She whimpers when I trail a line of kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, teasing her nipples briefly before going lower.

  “Beautiful,” I murmur against her skin, as I look up, catching her gaze, that never leaves mine.

  Her hands tighten in my hair and I move between her thighs, swirling my tongue across her clit, before delving deeper, tasting her, sucking, licking, reveling in her ragged groans and the soft hiss of pleasure on her lips.

  When her body spasms in pleasure, her muscles tightening as her orgasm takes over, I rise above her, pushing her thighs wider with my own, so that my heavy shaft presses against her pussy.

  Her eyes are dark with desire, watching me beneath heavy lids.

  She bucks her hips towards my cock, fingers digging into my flesh, demandingly.

  “Liam.” Her voice is a strangled cry.

  I can’t wait any longer. Consumed by need, I thrust inside of her, and she lets out a small cry of pleasure as her body stretches to take every inch of me.

  I rest my forehead against hers, holding her gaze as I slowly slide inside of her.