Fix You: Bash and Olivia, Book 3 Page 8

  “Oh, God,” she cried.

  “That’s it, Liv. Take it.” The need was raw now, and we were both on a mission to satisfy it.

  She arched into me, letting me still deeper inside, and her nails scratched down my back. It was like one last stand before the final surrender, and I knew what to do to get her there.

  “Come for me.” I whispered the words in her ear, thrusting long and slow and deep, then sliding my hand between us and working her swollen clit. My vision was already starting to blur but I pushed through it and the grinding pressure building at the base of my groin. I had to work through it. Had to watch Olivia come completely undone in my arms.

  And then she did.

  Scrabbling at the ceramic sides, she threw her head back and arched into me, her walls spasming, then contracting to grip me like a fist as her low moan rang in my ears, pushing me over the edge.

  My heart was still jackhammering when she pulled away from me, her beautiful breasts exposed above the surface, and she whispered, “I love you.”

  This. Here and now with Liv. This was the prize.

  Epilogue

  Olivia

  “Have a great summer everyone, and don’t forget the sunscreen.” There was an audible sigh of relief as Professor Totman gestured toward the door.

  It was over. Class dismissed. Whoot!

  I snatched up my books and briefly considered pitching them straight into the trashcan on the way out. The school store would probably give me seventy cents for all three of I tried to sell them back, which made no frigging sense since they would charge the next person a hundred and fifty bucks, but whatever. Bash and I were pinching every penny these days, so I held onto them as I scurried down the hallway.

  It was a fight to keep the idiotic smile off my face as I waved to a few of my classmates, shoved open the exit doors, and stepped out into the mid-May sunshine. My feet barely touched the ground as I walked across campus, breathing in the scent of magnolia trees.

  It was move-in day.

  Who would have thought a couple months ago that I was going to fall in love and wind up living with a Boston boy above his boxing gym with his two brothers?

  Not me, that was for damned sure.

  But when I reached the street and saw Bash parked by the curb waiting for me, I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

  I went to slide into the passenger’s seat and noticed a small box in the way. It was about a foot square, wrapped in crisp, white paper and topped off with a cheery red bow.

  My heart gave a little squeeze. “What’s this?” I asked, scooping it up and sliding into the car.

  “It’s a happy end of semester gift,” Bash said, turning to plant a kiss on my nose as I settled into my seat.

  His blue eyes were lit with banked excitement, which thrilled me. Now that Matty had found a way to take out a legitimate loan to pay back Mickey, Bash seemed like a new man. Amped to find a fight to replace the one he’d had to back out on due to his injury, but hopeful for the future.

  We’d been going strong, pedal to the metal, and neither one of us were backing off. It was like, now that the path was cleared for us, we couldn’t wait to start our lives together.

  “Open it now,” Bash urged, tipping his chin toward the box in my hand.

  He didn’t have to ask me twice. I tore at the paper like a kid at Christmas, heart pounding. In reality, it didn’t matter what it was. Extravagant gifts were off the table, and I couldn’t care less. Just the idea Bash was thinking of me when I wasn’t around and had taken the time to plan a little surprise for me made my day.

  I tossed the paper onto the console between us and pulled the top off the white box. Inside was an envelope, and next to it sat the high school class ring my parents had bought for me. The same ring I’d had to pawn to make bail money for Bash a month before.

  I gasped and clapped my hand over my mouth, tears welling in my eyes.

  “I bought it back from the Mad Money Max for you.” He plucked the ring out of the box and motioned for me to give him my hand. “I wanted to get the rest of the jewelry back too, but…”

  I cleared my throat to quell the ache there, and met his gaze. “But instead you realized that it’s just stuff, and we don’t have the money for that. This, though? This was important to me.”

  I stared at the ring on my finger through tear-blurred eyes. My mother had filed for divorce from my father the week before, and things back home were rough. This ring was a remnant of a happier time in my family. Something my parents had given me together, and I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it until Bash slid it back onto my finger.

  “I’m really happy to have it back. Thank you, Bash.” I leaned in and curled my arms around his neck, tugging him close for a quick kiss before pulling away to look into his eyes. “I have to know, though. We’re a team now. Are you sure we have the money for this?”

  He smiled and settled back into the driver’s seat. “That’s an interesting story, actually. I got a phone call yesterday from Butchie.”

  Butchie was Bash’s trainer. I’d yet to meet him because Bash’s hand was a couple weeks away from being healed, so training was at a minimum, but from what I could tell, all three McDaniels brothers were very fond of him.

  “He got a call from a guy in Victor Spada’s camp. Apparently, his management team has another fighter with a bout scheduled in September that fell through due to doping concerns. They’re looking for someone to fill the slot. They even got the promoter to wire me five thousand dollar advance to lock up the date.” His dark brows shot up and he shrugged. “It was like a gift from the gods or something. This a big fight, Liv. Maybe bigger than the Spada match up.”

  I ignored the sizzle of nerves that went through me every time I thought about him getting in the ring and launched myself at him. “Holy shit, that’s so awesome!” I peppered his face with little kisses and he chuckled before pulling away.

  “I didn’t want to tell you until I had the money and the contract in hand.” He gestured to the envelope still sitting, unopened in the box on my lap. “Check it out.”

  I grabbed the envelope and tore it open. Inside was a five page contract, which I skimmed until I got to the bottom line.

  “Sixty thousand dollars?” I squeaked. “Holy crap!”

  “Not bad, right?”

  “It’s awesome.”

  And it couldn’t have come at a better time. I’d taken on a summer job at the library and was in to process of securing some student loans for my last year of school, but Bash’s broken hand had kept him from finding work. He’d been relying on what little money his stake in the gym provided. This fight and the promised purse would definitely give him some piece of mind.

  “If I win, I’ll get a bonus.” His gaze went dark and intense. “I’m going to win, Liv. And then we’ll be able to pay cash for your classes.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut. Today was perfect. No reason to spoil that. When the time came, we’d decide together what to do with the money. And I had no doubt that he’d win. He’d been fighting his whole life and, no matter how hard-won the battle was, he always wound up coming out on top.

  “I love you,” I said, running my hand over his sexy, stubbled cheek.

  “Love you too, Liv. Always.”

  The End

  Sort of…

  Three weeks earlier…

  Matty

  “Look, kid, your brother had fans after only one fight here at the warehouse. Him, I’d pay the big bucks for. You?” Mickey eyed me up and down, and shrugged. “You’re an unknown here. It’s not an even trade off. I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head and not looking one fucking bit sorry. “But if Bash can’t make it tonight like he agreed, then me and you still got a five thousand dollar problem, and me and him got a whole new problem. He made a commitment, and I was counting on him.”

  I wanted to dive over his shitty desk and pop him in his stupid mug, but I kept it together because
I had no other options. With Bash’s hand broken and the Spada fight off the table, things were looking grim for him already. There was no way I was letting this bottom feeder get his claws into him again on top of it.

  Enough was enough.

  “From this point forward, all your problems are with me. I want my brother out of it. You tell me what I need to do to make this right for him, and I’ll do it.”

  Mickey’s snake-like eyes lit up. We both knew he had me on the ropes, and he was going to make me pay. I vowed then and there that, someday, I’d be on the other side of things. And when I was?

  I clenched my fist tight at my sides and waited.

  “Funny you should say that, Matthias. Because I’ve been thinking. This is great,” he twirled his finger around in a circle, motioning to his shitty little office and the warehouse surrounding it. “But I’ve been wanting to go legit. Build this into a legacy that I can pass down to my children someday.”

  I felt a stab of pity for his kids, but managed to mask my distaste at the idea that he even had them. Barely.

  Time to play nice, Matty, I reminded myself.

  “Legit sounds like a good plan, long term,” I said with a nod. “So what do you need from me?”

  “I was thinking you could be my guy.”

  I paused, and frowned at him. “Your guy?”

  “My guy,” he said with a grin. “I want to start an MMA crew. Manage a few fighters, mix it up with the big boys and make a name for myself. I had my sources checking into you, now that we seem to be doing so much business together lately. They say you’re hot shit and that, once your brothers get their rhythm with their own careers and you focus on your own, you got the goods to be the next big thing. That true?”

  Was it?

  Who fucking knew anymore. What I did know was that being “Mickey’s guy” sounded about as appetizing as an open-faced cock and balls sandwich, no gravy.

  “I’m a good fighter,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “But I’m not really looking for management right now. There’s got to be something else-”

  “Nope.” Mickey shook his head slowly and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the worn desk in front of him. “There is nothing else you have that I want, kid.”

  Something in his satisfied smirk made me wonder if there never was anything else he’d wanted. Like this had always been the goal.

  I wanted to argue. To tell him to stick his deal up his thieving ass and then walk out, but I had a family to think of. For the first time since our father died, my brother had a chance at happiness.

  Time to make a deal yet another deal with the devil. I promised myself this would be the last. “I want a fight for Bash. A good one.”

  Mickey cocked his head and looked at me for a long moment before nodding. “I have some connections. I think I can do that for you. And in return for that and letting him off the hook for tonight, and forgiving the money you owe me, I want you for eighteen months. You fight when I say, where I say and who I say.” He ticked off a finger with each new condition of the deal. “You’ll get paid a flat fee of ten grand per fight until or unless we land something prime time or pay per view. If you don’t perform the way I know you can, the whole thing is off.”

  Apparently, being Mickey’s guy was a form of indentured servitude, but I was hamstrung. My guts rocked and then rolled as all the ways this could go bad ran through my head. All the ways he’d have me bent over a barrel.

  And then I thought of my brother.

  Bash, in kindergarten, coming home with finger paintings no one but me gave a rat’s ass about.

  Bash on the floor at the age of ten, back mapped with welts from my mother’s belt, jaw shaking as he held back tears.

  Bash as a grown man, being driven away in the back of a police car and almost losing it all.

  “Secure the fight for my brother,” I bit out. “If it’s a legit, lucrative match, equal the one he had lined up with Spada, I’ll do it.”

  Mickey slapped the desk and stood, beaming. “Consider it done.”

  I turned to go, knowing if I didn’t get the fuck out of there I was going to explode.

  “And Matty?”

  I tossed a glance over my shoulder at him, brows raised in question.

  “Don’t think about trying to leave town. It won’t go well for any of you boys if you do.”

  I stormed out the office door and down the hall, quaking with anger and desperate for some air to breathe that wasn’t tainted by that little fucker. He was the gum on the bottom of my shoe, and until I scraped him off, I was stuck with him. By the time I made it down a series of hallways to the back exit, I’d calmed down enough to start contemplating how I was going to get unstuck.

  Distracted, I wasn’t looking where I was going and ran straight into a person a full head shorter than me.

  “Jesus Christ!” A female voice snarled. I rubbed my smarting chin and looked down to see a red-haired girl glaring up at me, massaging her forehead with one hand and shoving the phone she’d been holding into her pocket with the other. “What’s your jaw made of, adamantium?”

  Her sherry brown eyes shot gold fire at me and I held up a hand in apology. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Well, you nearly took my head off, so watch it next time.”

  She was a fit little package, and the tight white tank top she wore hugged her curves in a way that, on any other day, would’ve made my dick stand up and take note. Today, though, I didn’t have the patience for a mouthy redhead, no matter how hot she was.

  “Look, I said I was sorry. You’re fine, I’m fine, let’s just move on with our day.” I moved to push past her through the heavy metal door but she stood her ground, perching her hands on her jeans’ clad hips.

  “You Matty McDaniels?” she asked, eyeballing me from head to toe.

  I closed my eyes and blew out a sigh. What now? “I am.”

  Her full lips tightened into a thin line. “Well, I guess we might as well get used to butting heads, then.” She stuck out a hand grudgingly. “I’m Kayla James. And, according to Mickey, I’m your new manager.”

  Stay tuned for Trust Me, Book One, the first installment of Matty and Kayla’s story, coming June 15th! And sign up for Christine Bell’s mailing list for early excerpts, book release info, and a chance to win advanced reader copies of the McDaniels Brothers series.

  Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book One

  As the oldest McDaniels boy, it’s always been Matty’s job to take care of his brothers, but lately, he’s been doing a shitty job of it. After a rough couple months, his brother Bash is finally back on track to make a big name for himself in the boxing world, but when his golden opportunity gets taken away, there’s nothing Matty won’t do to fix it. Even if it means making a deal with the devil…and his bossy, red-headed daughter.

  Kayla James wasn’t always the daughter of notorious Boston mobster Mickey Flynn. Before that, she was nobody. He might not be perfect, but he took her in when she had no one else, and she’ll be forever in his debt. If he wants to her manage his new MMA fighter and turn him into money-making machine, she’ll do it…but she doesn’t have to like it. Not only is Matthias McDaniels irritatingly cocky, he also has a serious hate-on for her family, and she knows it’s only a matter of time before he turns on them. What she doesn’t expect is that his betrayal could very well break her heart…

  Other Books by Christine Bell

  Fix You, Bash and Olivia, Book One

  Fix You, Bash and Olivia, Book Two

  Down on her Knees (book #4 in the Dare Me series)

  Down the Aisle (book #3 in the Dare Me series)

  Down and Dirty (book #2 in the Dare Me series)

  Down for the Count (book #1 in the Dare Me series)

  Dirty Trick (book #1 in the Perfectly Matched series)

  Guardian for Hire (book #2 in the For Hire series)

  Wife for Hire (book #1 in the For Hire series)

  White Lie Christmas (with
author Riley Murphy)

  The Twisted Tale of Stormy Gale

  YA Books by Christine Bell writing as Christine O’Neil

  Chaos

  Bio

  Christine Bell is the USA Bestselling Author of Adult and New Adult contemporary romance novels. She and her handsome hubby currently reside in Pennsylvania with a four-pack of teenage boys and their two dogs, Gimli and Pug. If she gets time off from her duties as maid, chef, chauffeur, or therapist, she can be found reading just about anything she can get her hands on, from Young Adult novels to books on poker theory. She doesn’t like root beer, clowns or bugs (except ladybugs, on account of their cute outfits), but lurrves chocolate, going to the movies, the New York Giants and playing Texas Hold 'Em.

  Writing is her passion, but if she had to pick another occupation, she would be a pirate...or, like, a ninja maybe. She loves writing romance, but also hopes to one day publish something her dad can read without wanting to dig his eyes out with rusty spoons.

  Christine loves to hear from readers, so please feel free to get in touch with her via her website contact page, on her Facebook page, or on Twitter@_ChristineBell

  Copyrights

  Fix You, Bash and Olivia Book Three, All Rights Reserved

  Fix You, Bash and Olivia Book Three, Copyright © 2014 Christine Bell

  Published by Christine Bell

  Cover design by Dee Tenorio, Laideebug Digital

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from author.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. The author does acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The author does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for third-party Web sites or their content.