Moody: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 8

  All I can think is, I should have stayed in the damn bedroom.

  Chapter 17

  Izzy

  Pain twists Moody’s face as he lets me place an icepack on his jaw.

  “I’m sorry,” he mutters, placing his hand over mine.

  “I know.” Without looking at him, I nod, and pull my hand free. He’s not the only one whose secrets were exposed. I know I should be mad at him for taking the deal with Jason, but I’m not.

  My body is shaking and a million different feelings race through me.

  “What Griffin said about me being…” I look away, unable to say the word. Pregnant.

  A sharp ache slices through me when I catch Moody’s gaze and see my own pain mirrored there.

  How did our lives get so messed up?

  He clears his throat, and I can tell he’s just as uncomfortable as I am. “You should have come to me. I never would have let you go through it alone.”

  “I was going to tell you. But then–” I close my eyes tight and try to push back the memories that rise to the surface. Painful, bloody memories that nearly destroyed me. “And then I wasn’t pregnant anymore. So there was no reason to tell you.”

  I hear his footsteps, feel the heat of his body as he approaches, but I keep my eyes shut, unable to meet the guilt I know I’ll see there.

  He lets out a shaky breath, and his knuckles brush over my cheek. “I was a selfish asshole.”

  “You never made any promises and I shouldn’t have expected anything more.”

  “Bullshit.” His mouth tightens in a hard line. “I want you to expect more. I want you to trust me.”

  “I do.” My heart is stuck in my throat, and I try to swallow it down, but it won’t budge.

  He leans in, capturing my chin between his thumb and index finger. “I’ll fix this. I promise.”

  My heart thumps erratically at the contact. “There are some things you can’t fix. What Griffin said–”

  “He was drunk and desperate. I know it’s not an excuse for the things he said.”

  “No, it’s not.” My words are hard, full of the frustration and hurt. “And you need to stop blaming yourself.”

  He takes a couple deep breaths and runs a hand through his hair. “You heard what I did.”

  “Yeah. You made one reckless decision.”

  “A decision that permanently disabled my best friend.”

  “His aneurysm could have ruptured at any time. While he was driving, or walking down the street, or even sleeping.”

  He looks away, face tightening. “Maybe.”

  “You’re still going to try and find a way to help him, aren’t you?”

  Moody strokes my cheek, a sad smile playing on his lips. “I have to.”

  I sigh. He wouldn’t be Moody Brock if he didn’t.

  “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

  He chuckles softly, pulling me tighter towards him. “Would you expect anything less?”

  “I mean it.” I place my palm on his bare chest, and run my fingers over the dark ink. So beautiful. “I have a bad feeling about all this.”

  I can’t help but think whatever he has planned will tear him away from me. Again.

  Strong fingers curl behind my neck, forcing me to look at him. “Everything will be okay.” He kisses my forehead and lets out a low uneven breath. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  I touch the darkening bruise on his jaw, and I realize something. He never swung back. Not once. It was the same when my father attacked him at the hospital. Moody is a fighter. It goes against his very nature to not fight back. So why hadn’t he?

  “You don’t deserve this.” I rest my palm on his swollen cheek.

  He captures my hand, and brushes my knuckles across his lips, sending a shiver of want through my body.

  “I don’t deserve you.”

  I shake my head, hearing more than just his words – seeing the soul of the wounded man before me. Emotions swell in my chest and I have to blink back the tears that form.

  “You’re wrong.” I stand on my toes and brush my lips against his, unable to express with words how very wrong he is.

  A flash of uncertainty crosses his expression.

  “Izzy.” His voice is low and raspy. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving me a second chance.” His head dips and his mouth finds mine.

  The kiss is hot and demanding, filled with all the need and hurt we’ve both been hanging onto for the past four years.

  “Just don’t walk away again,” I say breathlessly, when he pulls back.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He strokes a hand over my hair. “This is where I want to be. Where I belong.”

  Chapter 18

  Moody

  I know what I have to do. I knew it the moment Griffin told me about his debt. Izzy will be pissed when she finds out, if she finds out, but I don’t see any other way out. I owe Griffin this much. Even if he won’t forgive me.

  Parking my truck in front of the large stone building that reads Reagan & Sons, I take a few steadying breaths.

  Inside the building, a blonde receptionist peers over her wire glasses at me. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “I’m here to see Jason. He’s expecting me. Moody Brock.”

  She makes a call, then nods towards a corridor. “Second door on the right.”

  Jason is sitting behind a large mahogany desk, a smug look plastered on his face. Dressed in a designer suit and tie, he looks like the high-class lawyer he pretends to be. But I know the truth, the Reagans are dirty, and not just typical lawyer dirty. Dirty, dirty.

  “You’ve got some balls coming here, Brock.” His nostrils flare as his gaze scans me.

  I pull the thick envelope of cash from my back pocket and toss it on the desk in front of him.

  “What’s this?” He flips through the bills, and I can see his weasely eyes do a quick calculation.

  “I want Griffin’s debt.”

  Jason snorts and pushes the envelope back across the desk towards me. “Is this a joke? There’s less than ten grand here.”

  “It’s a down payment.”

  “The loan is due now.”

  “I know.”

  He narrows his eyes. “And how do you plan on paying the rest off?”

  “That’s what I came to talk to you about. I thought we could come up with an agreement.”

  “An agreement?” His lips quirk up, and I can practically see his mind scheming. “I’m listening.”

  “You’re still running underground fights?”

  “You want back in the ring?” He leans forward, fingers steepled in front of him.

  “Yes.”

  “You know how much his debt is.”

  “And you know my record. What I’m capable of. Six or seven wins should pay it off.”

  Silence stretches between us. Jason leans back in his leather chair, tapping one finger on the desk and studying me.

  “Or one loss.”

  I exhale heavily, knowing what he wants, but I’ve never thrown a fight in my life.

  “You want me to lose?”

  One corner of his mouth pulls up. “Let’s just say I’ll be betting against you.”

  I nod, teeth grinding together. “And the debt will be paid?”

  “If you follow my terms, yes.” Something flickers behind his eyes.

  “I want a contract written up. If I do this, you and your men can’t touch Griffin…or Izzy.”

  His face tenses, mouth drawn in a tight line, and for a second I think he might renege on his offer. Then his expression changes and the darkness I see there sends a shiver down my spine.

  “It’ll be done,” he says, standing.

  “When?”

  “Before the fight, this Saturday.” He turns his back on me to stare out the floor to ceiling window. “Be at the old warehouse on First Street at seven. I’ll have it written up then.”

  He’s dismissing me.

  I t
urn to leave.

  “You won’t be able to keep her, you know.”

  I freeze at the warning in his voice. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle with warning.

  “Is that a threat?”

  Jason turns, hands in his pockets, a vicious grin spread across his face. “I don’t need to threaten what’s inevitable. Women like her, they don’t end up with guys like you. You think I don’t know that she ran straight into your arms after our little misunderstanding?”

  “Fucking another woman when you’re engaged isn’t a misunderstanding.”

  He places his palms on his desk and leans forward. “And because of that, I’ll forgive her for her little fling when she comes begging for me to take her back.”

  I know what he’s trying to do, and fuck if it isn’t working. Clenching my teeth, I hold back the anger burning inside me, and take a steadying breath.

  “Our deal includes you staying away from her.”

  “Worried that I’m right?” His lips curl over his teeth, triumph in his gaze. “Come on Moody, you and I both know you’re no more of a saint than I am. Izzy’s smart. Refined. You really think she’s going to be happy with a guy who can barely pay his rent? A guy who’s better known for his conquests out of the ring than in it? She’s a fucking doctor. And you? You’re nothing but a two-bit fighter with no future and no means to support her.”

  His words strike at the insecurities I’ve tried to bury. Hell, if he isn’t right. I don’t deserve her.

  “Just stay away from her.”

  He sits down and shrugs. “If she wants me to.”

  “She does.”

  “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  I hold his gaze, warring between whether or not to bash his face in, making sure he never goes near her again, or doing the smart thing and walking away.

  “Is there anything else?” Amusement gleams in his eyes, as if he’s daring me to make a move.

  He wants me to lose my temper. I see it then. One punch and he’d have me. I wouldn’t have to worry about an assault charge, because his method of payback would be far more medieval than modern justice.

  “Saturday.” I clench my fisted hands at my side.

  He gives a small nod and repeats, “Saturday.”

  One fight. One loss. And then it’ll all be over. Griffin’s debt will be erased, and Izzy and I can move forward towards the life and future I have planned for us.

  Chapter 19

  Izzy

  “You slept with him?” Kate’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning and I just announced we got a puppy.

  I sigh, knowing she won’t stop badgering me until I answer her. “Yes.”

  “And?” She leans back on the couch and holds out her empty glass of wine for me to fill.

  “It was perfect.” And every time I close my eyes, all I can see, feel, and taste is him.

  “When are you going to see him again?”

  “I don’t know. Things are complicated.” And I need time to process what happened between us because I’m still not sure what it was. It was more than just sex, it was real. Raw. Desperate and yet sweet.

  “Well, if you’re finished with him, I’ll take your dirty seconds.” Kate’s wiggles her brows at me.

  “God, you’re terrible.” I grab a second slice of pizza from the open box on the coffee table and sit down on the opposite side of the couch.

  “I’m serious. I’d give my first born for a chance to ride that beast to O-town.”

  I throw a pillow at her and groan. “Stop. Please.”

  “At least tell me he’s got some hot friends. I’m totally into the whole MMA thing right now.”

  “You?” I give her a disbelieving look.

  “What’s not to like? Muscular guys rolling around on a mat, practically naked. Wouldn’t you just love to oil yourself up and jump in the ring with them? I could handle a few rounds with those bad boys.”

  I don’t doubt that she’d do it too.

  Kate leans back, glancing at the family photo that sits in a silver frame on the side table. Griffin was only eighteen when the picture was taken, but it was clear even then the man he would grow into.

  “If you’d just set me up with that sexy brother of yours–”

  “So not happening.”

  “Why not? He’s single, isn’t he?”

  “Because I would no longer be able to be your friend if you–” I cough and wince at the image of Kate and Griffin together. “Did stuff. And trust me, he’s not in a good place right now.”

  Kate shrugs. “Damaged is my specialty.”

  “I won’t disagree with that.” I laugh and shake my head, ignoring the cold shiver that runs down my back. Griffin’s texts of apology have come almost every hour on the hour, all day. But I can’t bring myself to respond, despite the desperation in the tone of the messages.

  Kate gives a playful little pout. “Well, if you won’t set me up with your brother, then I want one of those MMA guys. But not one of the heavyweights, too much muscle is a bit of a turn off. Oh and green eyes. Definitely, green eyes with dark hair. Tattoos are optional.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease. Kate and a bottle of wine are the perfect cure for a bad mood. We might be as different as night and day, but I don’t know what I would do without her.

  She grins and takes a deep sip of her wine, watching me over her glass.

  “Have you heard from Jason?”

  “No.” In fact, he’s been unusually quiet considering the way we left things, and the shit he pulled with Griffin.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “It’s nothing.” I glance down at my wine and bite my bottom lip. I trust Kate with the details, but I really don’t want to talk about it, at least until I figure out what Moody is planning.

  “That bad, huh?” Kate cocks a brow at me, then sighs when I only respond with a shrug.

  My cell buzzes on the table, and I glance over at it, expecting another text from Griffin, but it’s Moody’s name that pops up.

  Can I stop by? We need to talk.

  My heart skips a beat when I read his text.

  “Everything all right?” Kate peers over, reading the text.

  “It’s just Moody.”

  “Booty call?”

  I laugh. “Something like that. But it can wait. Tonight is our night.”

  “No way.” She reaches over and grabs my phone, typing in a response before I can stop her. “You’ve needed a good lay for years. Now that you got one, you’re not using me as an excuse.”

  I grab my phone and scan the dirty message she sent back. “Oh my God. You did not write that.”

  “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” She stands and places her glass on the table.

  A moment later, my phone buzzes with Moody’s response.

  I’ll be there in fifteen.

  And I’m going to hold you to that promise.

  My face burns with humiliation mixed with anticipation, and I see Kate’s brows lift, amusement filling her expression.

  “Okay, love. I’m leaving.” She grabs her purse and saunters to the door, then turns and points a finger at me. “Oh, and don’t forget to do the second thing I wrote.”

  I groan when the door shuts behind her, then glance down at the scrubs I’m still wearing. I haven’t even showered today.

  Fifteen minutes gives me just enough time to wash my hair and shave, but little else. I’m still dripping wet, a towel wrapped around me, when Moody knocks on the door.

  Moody’s eyebrows shoot up and he gives me a side-cocked grin when I meet him at the door, clutching my towel across my breasts.

  “You should have waited.” He wraps an arm around my waist, moving into the apartment and shutting the door behind him. “I would have showered with you.”

  The thought sends a thrill through my body, making my core clench. I bite my lip, face warming at the sudden heat between us.

  “You’r
e not shy now, after that text you sent me.” His fingers brush along my cheek, tucking my damp hair behind my ear.

  “That wasn’t…” Words fail me as he continues to stroke my skin, hand skimming my neck, tracing the line of my clavicle.

  “Wasn’t what?” His head dips slightly, warm breath tickling my lips.

  “Kate.”

  “Ah, that explains the second wine glass.” A shimmer of something that looks like relief mixed with jealousy passes across his gaze.

  “Were you worried I had another man here?” I run my palms up his chest, feeling the muscles bunch under the thin fabric of his shirt.

  He grunts, pulling me tight, so that I can feel the hard length of his erection pressing against my stomach. “Should I be worried?”

  “No.” My lips twitch up. “You’re more than I can handle.”

  “Damn right,” he growls, mouth lowering to mine.

  I give myself over to him. The smell of his skin. The taste of his lips. The feel of his hands roaming over my body, barely aware when my towel falls to the floor.

  Flames race through my body like an inferno. There’s never been anything that compares to his touch. Raw. Primal. Powerful. He draws me in, trapping me in a tsunami of pleasure.

  His tongue strokes over my lips, and without warning, he’s lifting me, in his arms, carrying me to the couch.

  He lowers me gently, dark gaze trained on me.

  “You wanted to talk?” I croak, closing my eyes when his thumb brushes over my nipple.

  “It can wait.” Calloused and warm, his fingers stroke my flesh.

  I strain towards him, hips arching, reaching for the buckle at his waist. When my hand finally wraps around the thick length of his cock, I groan, pleasure whipping through me as I stroke him, feeling him harden against my palm.

  He pulls the remaining material over his hips, and my mouth goes dry when he hovers above me, gloriously naked.

  My breath hitches in my throat, fingers trailing over each detailed ab, up his chest and over the ink that makes him look both impossibly dangerous and mouth-wateringly sexy.

  I run my fingers over the swollen head of his cock. “I want to taste you.”