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Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 77) by Flora Ferrari (1)


CHAPTER 1

 

 

Gavin

 

“Gavin, if you win this fight who do you want next?”

 

“Didn’t I see you at my last fight, Bruce?”  I ask the uninitiated reporter who’s one of hundreds from all around the globe.  They’re all here for the same thing.  To hear the bold claims and guarantees that always come out of my mouth at these things.

 

But this is different.  This is Boston.  This is the TD Garden.  This is home.

 

I’m from South Boston, or Southie as it’s known, and if this son of a bitch is gonna challenge me in my own backyard then he’s going to get broke off.

 

“Yes, I was there,” he says.

 

“Did you have your eyes closed?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“There’s no excuse for you.  Or your stupid fucking question.  I obliterated Andujar with a first round knockout before you even had your unprofessional ass, and that half pint of Modelo Especial you had in your hand, in your seat.  See, Bruce, I see everything.  That’s why I’m the fucking champ and you’re sitting there asking me stupid questions as quickly as they pop into that thick skull of yours.  If I win this fight?  Hassan will fall in the first round just like all the others, if not quicker.”

 

I stare him down letting him, and all these other journalists know that I may be here to promote my fight, sure, but I’m not fucking around here.

 

“See Bruce, this is Boston.  This is my home.  These are my people.  Working class Irish people.  If you knew anything about me, or took the time to learn, you would already know how this fight is going to end.”

 

I pause and ol’ Bruce there looks like he’s gonna need a change of underwear real soon, but I’m not letting him off the hook just yet.

 

“As you can see just by looking at my opponent,” I say keeping my eyes focused on Bruce, “his right hand is twitching, and when it’s not twitching he’s balling it into a fist, if you can call that little pussy’s hand a fist.”

 

Hassan jumps from his table and the president of our fighting organization, Dan, jumps in-between us.

 

“See right there, Bruce.  He’s over aggressive.  I’m already so deep inside his head I can tell you the nightmare’s he’s been having about me each and every night since this fight was announced.  And I can tell you what else he sees.  He thinks he’s going to ‘shut me up’ with that big right hand of his, but that’s where his nightmare always gets even worse…with him waking up in a cold sweat.  See when he goes to unload that overaggressive right hand I will not be there, and he knows it.  I am like a ghost and he is like a zombie.  A mindless zombie who will walk right into the trap I set for him, but he’ll be too far gone to see them.  He will overextend and he will be punished.  See that’s the thing.  The twenty-four “opponents” of mine that came before him?  Some overextended...reaching too far trying to shut me up with an oversized punch which left them in a defenseless position which I immediately capitalized on.  Some shrunk into nothingness, but either way the result is the same.  Complete and utter domination,” I say.

 

I pause and now I can literally hear Hassan’s hand spasming off the table that is a good ten feet from me.

 

“So the question you should have asked, and I will ask it for you since you can’t even do that right, is when I beat Hassan who do I want next?  And the answer to that question is…”

 

Suddenly I see a late arriving journalist in the back as I feel my grip on the microphone in my hand loosen.

 

I do everything I can to keep my eyes on Bruce, but the one and only creature on this planet who can bring me to my knees has just entered.  I don’t even need to look at her directly.

 

Why?  I know all her mannerisms.

 

You think I study boxers hard?  Well I’ve studied her a million times harder.

 

The way she moves.  The way her hair sways in the wind.  The way her hips swing as her back arches as her bubble butt moves in a way that I can only describe as angelic, and angelic is a word someone like me never uses.  It’s against everything I stand for.

 

And right now if I had to stand I couldn’t.  My cock is immediately rock hard just at the knowledge that she’s in the same room as me…for the first time in four years.  I swear I can even smell her.  When it comes to her I’m like a shark.  I could pick up one drop of her scent out in the vastness of ocean.

 

And I also swear on everything that’s good in this world that over these past four years she has filled out like a motherfucker.

 

Damn!

 

The way she fills out that virginal white blouse.  The way those slacks fit her athletic legs.  The way her long, golden blond hair falls on her shoulders and down her back.  The way her blue eyes call me, but I can’t break my concentration on this question, giving my opponent hope that I may not be as focused and intense as I’m famous for.

 

But now there’s a new question.  An even more important one that gives me hope of my own and takes my focus and intensity to a level that even I have never experienced.

 

It’s like the entire world stopped the moment she walked in.

 

Who?

 

My best friend’s little sister.

 

The only girl who is completely off limits.

 

In Southie you live and die by your word, by your honor.

 

Family is everything and relationships are real.

 

We don’t just help each other move apartments on Saturday mornings when the time calls for it.  We move mountains for each other every fucking day of our lives.

 

You lose your job?  You’re moving in with me until your back on your feet.  No questions asked and I won’t take no for an answer.

 

You haven’t eaten?  Here, have my sandwich I already ate earlier…whether I did or not.

 

And I did eat just before this press conference, but I didn’t feed.

 

Feed my appetite for her.  I’ve wanted to devour her for four years.  Four long damn years since her high school graduation party.

 

I didn’t see her a whole lot when she was growing up, and it didn’t matter then because she was just a kid.  But when I went to that party something had changed and it wasn’t just the fact that she was eighteen then.

 

She had become a woman.

 

It happens in Southie.  You grow up quick or you get sucked in…down and under.

 

But right now the only thing I can think about is going down and under and sucking her clit into my mouth while I stick my tongue so far inside her it forms a red carpet straight to her G-Spot as she lets her juices flow right into my mouth as I drink in her sweetness.

 

“Her!” I say and my other hand points directly at her, but just as the crowd turns to look towards the back of the room she slides sideways disappearing just as quickly as she came.

 

I swore I’d never pursue her.  I swore I’d never let anything come between me and her brother Grady.  I swore I’d never enter their home, or her world, ever again.

 

But this is different.  She entered my world of her own free will which means all bets are off.

 

And that means one thing above all others.

 

I will find her and pursue her with every last ounce of strength I have in my body, and until the end of time if I have to, until she is mine.

 

And she will be mine.

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