My brother"s best friend is a Boston Irish American older man.
He possesses an undefeated record as an MMA fighter, but the moment he lays eyes on me he tells me the only thing he"s interested in possessing now is me.
And when this younger woman witnesses him take part in a fight for the first time the barbaric violence shouldn"t turn me on, but it does. He"s a real man amongst boys in and out of the octagon, and I"m ready to be his woman, and for the first time in my life I know I"m ready for another kind of first time"with him.
But before my brother"s best friend is able to tell my brother about what"s going on between us, he finds out the hard way, making him feel like he"s been sucker punched by his best friend.
Can my possessive Boston Irish American older man prove to my brother that what we have is real and that this MMA fighter will fight harder than he ever has inside the octagon, outside of it"for me"
Or will my brother do his best to make sure my brother"s best friend"s beautiful Irish eyes aren"t smiling by threatening him with violence of his own, causing me to get caught in the middle of two possessive older men"one my flesh and blood family and the other I want nothing more than to start my own family with knowing what we have will last forever.
But how can I bring myself to come between my brother and my brother"s best friend" Will I be forced into a split decision of my own"choosing between them with my choice causing heartache one way or the other"forever"
*Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.Books by Author:Flora Ferrari Books
"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""
"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.