Passing His Guard

Watching him fight was both exhilarating and captivating, the control and power he exuded, astounding. She’d come tonight expecting to hate MMA, and was only here because this was her job—or so she told herself when she’d taken a painstaking amount of time deciding what to wear tonight. There weren’t a lot of colors she could get away with wearing. Her deep, fiery locks looked almost black in this darker lighting, but once she got into a brighter setting, her flaming tresses could really clash with her clothes if she wasn’t careful. She’d chosen a dark green sleeveless cowl-neck with a lace-patterned back and a black above the knee pencil skirt. Her matching shoes had a modest one-inch heel. She’d chosen something to give her average five-six height a little boost, but not tall enough to scream “I’m easy.” A lot could be said about a woman by the shoes she wore, and Rya

She gasped when Aiden took a hit to his cheek and then found herself cheering as he shook it off and shot for his opponent’s hips, taking Mallenger “the Mauler” to the mat. The fighter hit the ground hard, and in a matter of seconds he was past Mallenger’s guard, whatever that meant—but it must have been good, judging by the commentator’s excited yelling. Aiden rained fists and elbows onto the man’s face. The right one apparently co

Aiden’s team flooded into the octagon, jumping and cheering. They picked him up, spun him around, clasped him in back-slapping hugs. The energy in the room was contagious, and Rya

Not wanting to get caught up in the crowd, Rya

Where in the hell was she? Aiden searched the crowd for the redheaded beauty and found her seat was empty. The disappointment at discovering her gone resounded solidly in his gut. Ever since she’d walked into that gym two days ago, he’d scarcely thought of anything else. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, though he’d gotten the distinct feeling she hadn’t believed him for a second. That she might not know how gorgeous she was, he found sexy as hell. Her seeming lack of vanity was refreshing. Most women who approached him were ridiculously vain and superficial, and so cosmetically enhanced that if they’d possessed any natural beauty, it was long dead and buried.

But not this woman—there was something special about her. The moment he laid eyes on her he could tell she was nothing like the others. His attraction to the beguiling redhead had surprised him, a swift and guttural response that just about took him out at the knees. She’d caught him so off guard that, rather than stand there staring at her like a complete dumbass, he’d do

She intrigued him. Not only was she stu

Wanting to see her again, Aiden had impulsively given the woman front row tickets to the fight and a pass to his after party. He had the spare seats, the ones reserved for family he would never invite—not that they’d ever come, even if he did. Sen. Be

“What’s the matter, Disco? You look like your puppy died.”

By the shit-eating grin on Regan’s face, Aiden was pretty sure the guy knew exactly what was gnawing at him. “Did you talk to her?” he demanded. “Make her feel welcome like I asked?”

Of all his friends he could have turned loose on that woman, Regan had been his best bet. The guy was laid-back, outgoing, and, most important, hopelessly in love with Willow Scott, the baby sister of his best friend and fellow MMA fighter Kyle “the Killer” Scott.

So far, those two had managed to avoid each other in the octagon as they climbed the welterweight ranks, but a matchup was inevitable. Now throw one Willow Scott into the mix and that shit had the potential to turn ugly fast. That fighter had an insane protective streak when it came to his baby sister. Aiden didn’t envy Regan one bit. If Kyle ever found out Regan and Willow were sneaking around behind his back, then friend or not, shit was going to get real.

“Of course I made her feel welcome. Man, Disco, that little honey is a sweet piece of ass.”

The urge to punch his friend in the mouth rose up swift and hard. Grabbing the front of Regan’s shirt, he jerked him close and growled, “You call her that again, and Kill might just find out who’s been dippin’ in his little sister’s honeypot.”

“Jeez, Disco, chill.” Regan held up his hands in surrender. “You know I didn’t mean anything by it, man. What the fuck happened to ‘bros before hos,’ huh?”

Shit, Regan was right.

“Besides, I wouldn’t fuck around on Willow and you know it.”

He did know it, dammit. So why in the hell was he acting all Neanderthal over this woman he barely knew? Especially when she’d ditched him the minute the fight was over. Not worth it, he told himself, pasting on a Disco grin. Aiden slung his arm around the guy’s neck. “You’re right. I guess Easton must be rubbing off on me. Sorry I bit your head off. I’m go

“Sounds good, man.”

Aiden made his way through the crowd and headed back to his room to get cleaned up before joining the after party. He was just about to step into the elevator when he heard the sharp clap of heels echoing down the hall and a soft, feminine voice call out, “Aiden, wait up!”

He instinctively tensed, assuming a cage banger was cornering him. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled at the little blonde hustling toward him. He could hardly see her face peeking over the boxes in her arms. “Hey, Willow,” he rushed toward her, scooping the burden from her arms. “What are you doing here?”

She gave him a grateful smile, then blew a wayward strand of bangs from her eyes. “Ru

He gri

A guilty blush stained her cheeks.

“Lookin’ kinda fancy for an errand.”

Willow bit her bottom lip, and shot him a nervous glance. “Kyle wouldn’t bring me,” she confessed. “He said the party was twenty-one and older.” Smoothing her hands down her shirt, she tossed her wavy blonde hair behind her shoulder and undid the top button of her blouse to expose her cleavage. “You think I’ll pass?” She turned to fully face him, presenting herself for his inspection.