Roofie (MMA Bad Boys Book 2) (4 page)

“Hey! Usual please, for two.” I don’t really have to say this as she knows the drill. I’m in here every day grabbing coffee and food for me and Carlotta. “How are you?”

“Same as I was yesterday, my dear. I’m perfectly fine and as always it’s great to see you.” She beams at me over her shoulder as she makes the coffee before she turns to the kitchen and shouts the food order to Lorenzo, the chef.

“Been busy?” I ask her, just to make conversation. I’m not one to sit in silence very often, it unnerves me to some extent. I love to talk, and generally, it takes a lot for me to shut up. Carlotta tells me often that I can be a pain in the arse, especially when I’ve got alcohol in my system.

“Yes, very.” She blows out a breath. “Lunch hour is finally ending though so soon I shall be able to rest these old feet of mine.”

“Have you thought about retiring? I mean, you don’t need to work anymore, Lorena. You deserve a break, time to rest. You know what I mean.” I wave my hands around to get my point across.

“No. I love this place too much. I’ve invested most of my adult life to this Café. I’m not ready to let it go just yet. Not until my daughter pulls her head of her backside and comes to work here. Until she does, I’m stuck here. But I love it, all my customers leave happy and I love getting know them too. And, my dear, I’d miss you way way way too much.” She winks at me as she places the coffees in a coffee holder and places them in front of me.

Lorena is maybe sixty-five but she has the spirit of a thirty-year-old. She’s also the kindest woman I have ever met and I love seeing her on a daily basis. She’s one of those elderly woman that wants to make sure everyone in her vicinity is smiling or laughing. Her sense of humour can be a bit dry but that’s what makes her so funny.

“Here you go, dear. Enjoy the rest of your day.” She leans over the counter and kisses both of my cheeks before I grab the coffee’s and the blue and white striped carrier bag. “Say hello to Carlotta for me, will you. Tell her I miss her and she should come visit soon.”

“I will do. She’s been so busy with Blissfully Inked and the warehouse that she’s barely had time to do anything. She’ll find her feet soon though. Catch ya later, Lorena.” Blowing her a kiss, I leave the café and head back to the shop. My hands are going numb as the temperature drops and I try my hardest not to drop the coffees on the pavement. My nose is probably as red as Rudolf too. My eyes are about ready to stream water as the wind picks up and blows in my face. Today already sucks and it’s hardly even begun.

“Coffee, Car!” I shout as I enter the shop. I can still hear the whizzing of the tattoo gun so go round the front desk and drop the order there. Heating. I need to put myself under the heating system for ten minutes to unfreeze myself. I sigh when I stand under it, goosebumps rising along my arms. I rub my hands together to try and get the feeling back. Shit, I have a feeling this winter is going to suck donkey dick.

It’s been about two hours since I saw Gemma and apologised. I didn’t mean to fucking hurt her the way I did. I mean, I can’t even fucking remember. I remember how tight her pussy was, how she tasted between her legs, but I don’t remember what happened after. It’s like I blacked out, there’s not even a blur of anything. I’ve been feeling guilty since Carlotta finally told me what the fuck I did wrong to make Gemma such a devil woman toward me and I didn’t have the guts to man the fuck up and say sorry to her.

I remember the hug when we parted, the smell of her strawberry scented shampoo in her hair, her perfume that wafted up my nose and has stayed there ever since. The memories of the one night I had her have been spinning on a wheel in my head since then. But every time I tried to get close to her, she’d glare at me with anger and it always confused the shit out of me. Until now. I had to do something because I’m about ready to get on my knees and beg for another fucking night with her grade-A pussy. Yeah, I can’t stop thinking about the way her pussy clamped around me as she came, the scream she let out that made me follow suit. Thinking about it now makes my dick painfully hard. This really isn’t the place to get a hard-on.

Sitting in Beast’s office as he looks through the next week’s schedule, I think about anything that doesn’t involve Gemma to soften my dick.

“You’re fighting Edmond Cortez tonight, Roofie.” He eyes me to make sure I’m cool with that. Of course I am, I’ll fight fucking anyone…except Beast.

“That’s cool.” He smirks at me because he knows I have this in the bag. “When’s your next fight, big boss?” I ask him as I stretch my arms above my head.

“Don’t ever call me that, dickhead, it reminds me of Carlos and any memory of him makes me want to smash his face in all over again.” He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. His anger is still smouldering even though Carlos was eradicated a little under a month ago.

“Sorry, bud. I should think before I say shit.” I chew on my bottom lip as I eye him. He gets it under control though and that’s the amazing thing about Beast. He can control his anger easily whereas I have to use a punch bag to let mine go.

“It’s cool.” The left side of his mouth tips up in a small smile. “I’m fighting tonight too. Gregory Jones. Easy as shit.” We both laugh because we all know that Gregory won’t win, no one does against Beast but I don’t think Gregory has ever, ever, won a fight.

“How long’s that piece of shit been fighting for now?” I ask, because for the life of me I can’t fucking remember.

“About a year. Does he go to your gym at all? The dude looks like a weasel.” Beast chuckles as his head shakes from side to side. It’s not often you see Beast smile let alone chuckle. Carlotta brings the best out in him and being at the top of the MMA in London probably helps.

“Nope, doesn’t come to my gym and by the looks of him, he doesn’t attend any other one either.” I shrug my shoulders. I don’t particularly want him in my gym anyway. The guy is a loser and I have no idea why he’s still fighting. He won’t get anywhere and he knows that, everyone fucking knows that.

“I’m going to bring him into the office after the fight tonight. I can’t have him fighting here anymore. He’s embarrassing this place.” Beast stands from his chair and walks to the window, staring out at the busy people of London rushing by. “I can’t have people here that don’t train. They could get themselves killed.”

“Yep. And you can’t really afford to have a death hanging over you because of some twat that thinks he’s big and hard, playing with the big boys when he has no reason to.” I tip my head back and sigh when my neck clicks.

“I can afford anything I want.” He raises his right brow up at me as he looks at me over his shoulder.

“I meant your reputation, you twat.” I laugh.

“You’re right. I can’t let it happen and it won’t. Especially under my watch.” Making his way to the door, I stand and groan when my muscles scream at me. I think I may have trained myself to much in the gym today and I need a cold bath to help with the muscle aches.

“Okay. Well then, I’ll see you tonight, mate. Try not to get into trouble while I’m out.” I pat his shoulder and he rewards me with a playful punch to the arm. Even with the punch being playful, it still fucking hurt.

“Ouch. Motherfucker.” I rub the spot on my arm as I leave his office. “See ya tonight!” I shout over my shoulder as I disappear down the hallways and through the ring area to the main doors.

He doesn’t reply but I hear him shut his office door. This place if fucking creepy when it’s empty and it gives me the shivers like someone is walking over my grave. I pick up my pace through the warehouse and leave through the two steel doors that lead to the adjoining car park where my Porsche 911 Turbo sits, glimmering in the sunlight that is disappearing behind the clouds again.

Strapping myself in, my thoughts go back to Gemma. They always go back to fucking Gemma. Deep down I know she’d never ever go near my dick again but that doesn’t stop me wanting her, it only makes me want to pursue her more. And I’m going to weave my way back into her life. She honestly doesn’t know that she’s playing with fire.

Reaching my house, I turn off the ignition and unstrap myself. But I sit there for a few minutes. I love my house, don’t get me wrong but living in a two-bed house alone can get lonely. But, the only good thing about living here, is that I live two doors down from Jase. And looking at his house now, he has his door open and he’s mauling a brunette with long legs and wearing a little black number. I shake my head, that’s Jase all over. He’s a good looking guy anyway but he always mentions that he’s a firefighter which makes all the girls swoon.

After Jase has his door shut and the brunette is walking away from his house, I leave the confines of my car and head to my house, determined to be alone for just a few hours to recuperate from the long gym session.

What I love about the gym, or another thing at least, is that my receptionist can be in charge all damn day every day, because she manages EVERYTHING. From answering the phones, to signing new members. All I do there is crunch numbers, something I fucking hate but has to be done. So I usually spend a few hours there in the mornings to get new paperwork filed, catch up on the accounts and make sure that all the gym equipment is working properly.

Sighing in relief that I made it into my house without Jase noticing, I lock my door and head straight for my bathroom. Climbing the stairs, I notice the tension and fatigue in my muscles with each step that I take and I groan. A cold bath is definitely fucking needed; however uncomfortable it is.

After the coldest bath in history, I get out and towel myself dry quickly. Clothes, I need fucking clothes. My teeth are chattering but at least my muscles feel a little loser. I step out of the bathroom into the warmth of the hallway and walk butt naked to my master bedroom to get ready for the fight tonight; dressing in jogging shorts and plain white t-shirt, I won’t be wearing it long as you have to be shirtless in the ring. I hear my phone beeping from where I took everything out of my pockets in the bathroom, but I ignore it until I’m dressed.

The ringing stops but immediately starts again and I curse under my breath. Can’t I catch two minutes of peace and quiet? Obviously fucking not.

“Hello?” I growl, not giving a shit who’s on the receiving end of my mood.

“Son, that is no way to answer the phone to your mother,” her stern voice comes through the line and I groan in frustration.

“If your number wasn’t withheld, I wouldn’t have answered like that or even at all. What the fuck do you want?” I ask, running a hand through my wet hair as I head back to the bedroom and perch on the edge of my bed.

“Watch your tone.” Her voice is a little deeper but she doesn’t fucking intimidate me. She can go fuck herself for all I care.

“What. Do. You. Want?” I punctuate each word. The urge to punch something makes my fists curl up, but for once I refrain and take deep breaths instead. “You got thirty-seconds to spit it out.”

“Tatiana and…” she begins, but I growl and halt her sentence. I don’t give a shit about my sister.

“I don’t give a flying pigs arse what she does with her life. If she wasn’t so much like you, I might actually have cared. She can fuck who she wants. It’s not my business. Is that all?” I close my eyes and practice some deep breathing that I’ve learned through Cognitive Behavioural Therapy to calm the racing in my heart.