Finn: An MMA Bodyguard Romance

Finn ticks all the boyfriend boxes. The incredibly sexy MMA fighter turned successful businessman, is my every fantasy wrapped in a sinfully attractive package.

The problem? My dangerous, overbearing brother.

He’s forbidden any relationship between us and has instead hired the perfect man to be my bodyguard.

Finn is determined to shield me from outside threats, but what about the unrelenting tension that neither of us can control? Each stolen glance and accidental touch pushes us further over the line.

As danger draws closer, our restraint falters, and the line between protector and lover blurs. Will we succumb to the magnetic pull, even if it means defying all the rules?

Chapter One

“You’re crazy, bitch, you know that?”

I drop my head back and laugh at the endearing words from my bestie. I give her a fashion show twirl, swinging my hips like the runway models do, which is really hard to fucking do in these gigantic heels. By the time I’m facing her again, I can’t keep up the pretense any longer. “I don’t know if I can do it, Jaz. My feet already hurt.”

She appraises me from head-to-toe with her discerning, style-expert gaze. When finished, she gives a curt nod as if she’s just figured out how to catch water on fire. “No one will be looking at your feet in that outfit. Trust me. You can change into shorter heels. Maybe a cute boot?”

I tug my lower lip into my mouth and look at my friend expectantly.

She groans. Loudly.

“Pleeeassse? I won’t let anything happen to them.” My eyes are already wide and dreaming about the new boots she bought the other day. She Snapchatted them to me, and I fangirled like I was talking to Jimmy Choo himself. No, they aren’t designer, but they’re great knockoffs.

This is the Heights, not Beverly Hills, after all.

She gestures toward her closet with a dismissing wave and an eyeroll. “Fine.” Before I can even turn fully, her grumbling lifts into a smile. See? She loves me.

Jaz has been my stand-in sibling for more than five years. When she scored this cute apartment above the dress shop, we decided to move in together. Two incomes going toward the rent couldn’t hurt. Plus, it gives me some space from Mom and Dad.

She places a matching hoop earring in her right ear. “If Cole’s there, you know he’s going to give you shit.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” I throw back as I step toward her closet. Hers is filled with more clothing and accessories than mine, and it’s always a maze to rifle through. Jaz is a pseudo-fashionista, or at least she would be if we didn’t grow up in the Heights.

Through the full-length mirror we picked up at a thrift store, I watch as she shakes her head at my brush off, laughing to herself. I’m pretty sure she’s found far too much amusement in the fact that my brother has come back to town. But like, not just as my brother, as a fucking badass gang leader. Whatever he is, it still blows my mind that he’s here again. I couldn’t care less about the title. When he defected from the Crew, I was pretty sure he was dead. Or at the very least, chased away from Rawley Heights for the rest of his life.

Having him back is a blessing...and a curse.

“You two are going to kill each other. Mark my words.” Jaz leans back on a sea of pillows that run the gamut of all the colors of the rainbow. She crosses her legs, already dressed for tonight in a skintight pair of skinny jeans and a shimmery crop top. Her chestnut brown hair is growing out from a really bad pixie cut that she regretted from the first snip. It’s now dutifully down to her shoulders, a little longer in the front and moving backward at an upward angle. “And like, just sayin’, but he can actually make that happen. I’m going to have to give him the upper hand with this one.”

I bark out a laugh. Toeing the pair of my roommate’s new boots out of the closet, I step out of the sky-high heels and into the cute peep-toes. For all of my bravado, I worry over my lip while my back is to her. She’s absolutely right that Cole has the power to make that happen, which is fucking scary. Obviously, she’s joking about the killing me part. He’s way too overprotective. Trying to keep me from getting killed from everything right down to the damn Heights street rats.

Basically, my brother left cool and came back an overbearing asshole.

“The only thing he’s going to drive me to do is die from boredom,” I snarl.

“Dramatic much?” Her red lips pull into a grin. Her favorite thing to do is tease me about my propensity for drama.

I turn, much steadier on my feet now and give my friend a playful boob wiggle, ignoring her dig. I’ve always had a flair for theatrics. I’m not about to stop now. “Better?”

“Sexy as fuck. I’d do you.”

I kiss the air in the vicinity of her face. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” She crosses her arms behind her head, looking the picture of serenity as she basks in my compliment.

I take one of her fringe pillows with purple pom-poms on all four corners and chuck it at her. It hits her in the chest and bounces off.

She drops her mouth in mock shock. “And to think I lent you my new shoes.” She shoots off the bed, but I’m already hightailing it out of there. She’ll have to pry these boots off my cold dead feet. Which she would do, so I’m not even joking. She’s very serious about her shit, and I may or may not be the worst person to lend things to.

The apartment opens up to a joint kitchen and living space. It’s not high-end or anything, but we’ve made it work. The couch in the living space used to be in the dress shop downstairs. We snatched it up when they were getting rid of it. It’s a beautiful cranberry velvet settee piece. We decorated the entire room around its charm with furnishings purchased from second-hand shops that we re-stained or re-painted to match the aesthetic. Thankfully, the furnishings draw attention away from the cheap cabinetry and pocked Formica of the island that serves as the barrier between the two rooms.

On either side of the couch sit two end tables that used to be a drab brown, but we painted them white, bought fancy new knobs, and placed bargain lamps on each one, and now they look a thousand percent better. The only thing we can’t change is the muted brown, stained carpet. To counteract it, we’re putting money aside and searching for the perfect area rug to cover up how horrendous it is. All in all, I swear we have one of the nicer apartments in all of the Heights—if not that, then at least it’s unique. It’s nothing like the modern tower my brother is living in but it’s mine and Jaz’s so I love it.

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror in the hallway, I re-tie my halter and lean forward, making sure I’m giving enough of a show without giving too much. There’s a fine line between sexy and straight up ho. The ruffles that skirt the v-neckline bring attention to my cleavage without overdoing it. The black shirt ends in an asymmetric hem that shows off a sneak peek of my stomach. Rounding out the outfit is a layered jean skirt to match the neckline of my shirt and black tights lead to the cute boots, which really do throw this outfit into H-O-T territory.

Jaz pouts behind me, staring in longing at my wavy, dark auburn hair that stops mid-back. “I hate you.”

I smirk at her. “You’re rocking that new bob, and you know it.”

She runs her fingers through the balayage colored ends, twisting her face left and right to catch it from all angles. With her chin in the air and a sly grin, she relents. “Yeah, you’re right.”

I shake my head. She’s got the smoky eye look down to a T. I’m shit at makeup. She’s been trying to teach me since we were teenagers, but I’m a hopeless case. If she doesn’t do my makeup for me—like tonight—I just end up with the au natural look. About the only thing I can do is put on mascara, so there’s that. “Is Jared coming?”

She gets a wistful look in her hazel eyes. “Yeah, he’s going to meet us there. Do not drag him into your stuff with Cole. I mean it,” she says, giving me a pointed look in the mirror.

I clasp my hand to my chest. “Me?” In response, she gives me another knowing look, and I crack with a grimace. “I only did it once. I figured Cole would get over it if he knew Jared was there.”

Jaz sighs. “You should just tell him we’re going to the fights, Leenie. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is, he’s going to come swaggering in there and any guy I meet is going to tuck tail and run because of who he is.” I’m not just speculating either. That’s happened with about five guys, and that’s only in the first few weeks of him returning to the Heights. Actually, wait. That’s the first few weeks of me even knowing he was back in the Heights. He failed to tell us he was back until the Crew collapsed.

My body shudders involuntarily. I’m actually glad I wasn’t around for that. Cole hasn’t offered up the deets on what happened, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know either. I worry about my big brother. His status brings a whole different set of problems which has nothing to do with my sudden, very boring sex life.

“He might show up though, you know?” Jaz offers as she grabs some money and slips it under the neckline of her shirt. She then takes her license out of her purse and places it in the back pocket of her skinny jeans. “If he finds you there, it’ll be worse.”

I go to my own purse hanging on the repurposed coat rack to the right of the mirror and tuck my license and money into my bra. Someone will have to practically grope me if they want to steal my cash. Not saying they won’t, but at least I’ll see it coming. “I like the odds though,” I tell her over my shoulder, hoping she’ll drop it. I don’t want to think about Cole right now. “The fights in the new Ring aren’t Dragon-sanctioned.”

Jaz stops and blows out a breath. “Dragons. Jesus Christ. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the fact that The Heights Crew doesn’t run Rawley Heights anymore. That shit’s crazy.”

Crazy and fucking much needed. I’ve always uniformly tried to stay out of Crew shit because of the whole thing with my brother defecting and the Crew possibly looking for retaliation because of it, but things had started to get out-of-hand, and I didn’t have to be anywhere near close enough to understand what was happening.

I hold my hand out to her, and she clasps hers in mine. We smile at each other, and I put an end to all the gang talk with, “Let’s get this shit started. ‘Kay?”

“You are way too happy about this.”

I shrug. A night off from my brother’s domineering shit sounds like the perfect medicine from a week that was about as mundane as could be. Work. Home. Work. Home. Jaz, and getting to reconnect with my brother, are the only bright spots. And even then, welcoming Cole back into my life means having to deal with his overprotectiveness, so... Yeah. We’re going to the Ring to let off some steam.

After locking up, Jaz places the apartment key in her back pocket along with her license, and we step out into the narrow stairwell that leads out onto the main street. I fumble for the light switch. When I finally find it, the bulb flickers on only to blow a second later. “For Christ’s sake.”

Jaz chuckles behind me. “Talk about heels being an actual hazard.”

We take the stairs slowly, Jaz keeping one hand on my shoulder and the other on the handrail as we descend. Muted light from the window on the exit illuminates the last few steps. Since it’s damn near eight at night, the Heights streetlights are already on, giving us just that little spot in the dark.

Thankfully, we make it to the bottom without breaking our necks. Stepping outside, a gust of evening air sweeping through the block picks up my hair and flutters it around me. Almost as soon as I take my first step toward freedom, my phone buzzes. I pull it out of the top of my jean skirt, frowning at the screen.

What are you two doing tonight?

I think about not answering Cole, but if I don’t, he’ll just show up. Then, when I’m not at the apartment, he’ll get his Dragons to find me and bring me to him. He’d happily make me move into the tower with him if that also wasn’t a problem. He doesn’t want to bring me into gang shit; he wants to keep me safely away. Hanging out, I text back because that’s not a lie. I’m just not telling him where we’re hanging out.

The thing is, my brother won’t stop me from going anywhere, he just wants a guard to tagalong in the biggest cockblock of all time. Who’s going to break through the line of Dragons to hit on the leader’s sister? Fucking no one with a brain, and dammit, I prefer my guys with brains. Big dicks, too, but you know, intelligence is also essential if they’re going to figure out how to use their dicks wisely.

“I already have a feeling this isn’t going to end well,” Jaz mutters after reading my text exchange.

Poor girl. She’s had to listen to my conflicted emotions about my brother’s return for the last few months. One day, he’s an asshole. The next, I’m so excited about getting him back I’m bouncing off the walls. I don’t know. My head is a complicated place to be, that’s all I have to say. “Either way, I’ll keep you and Jared out of this so you can get some tonight,” I offer, wagging my brows. Jared is Jaz’s new fling. And actually, I’m not sure I would call it a fling anymore. She’s pretty obsessed with him, and their relationship has been going strong for a few weeks. He seems to be just as into her as she’s into him. “You sure he doesn’t have a friend?”

“Please. I suppose you want Cole to kill me next?”

I force my hand in the crook of her elbow and hold her to me as we start down the street toward the Ring. “You know Cole wouldn’t hurt you.”

The resistant tug in my stomach reminds me I’m actually not one hundred percent sure on that. Cole’s changed. He was always happy-go-lucky and personable. He was friends with everyone, maybe even to his own detriment. This hard life has made him different. Even so, I still don’t think he’d do anything to the best friend I’ve had all my life. The one he knew before he became a big bad gang leader guy too.

We walk two blocks in silence before I emerge from my thoughts, groaning. “Can we please stop with the brother talk tonight?” I tug her closer as the Ring comes into view. “The whole point of this is to take my mind off my complicated life.”

She hip bumps me. “I thought the whole point was to get laid.”

I laugh again, dipping my head back to let the streetlight shine on my face. The sound reverberates off the brick buildings around us as we move in toward the old warehouse that holds the new Ring. “Yeah, that too.”

The vertical pink and green neon sign spelling out R-I-N-G fades into a wave before blinking brightly, casting the dirty street into a color wheel of bright light. As we get closer, the colors splash all over Jaz and me, making her already glittery shirt sparkle.

The sign may as well spell out freedom because I’m all over this place. First stop: the bar. Second stop: dick.

Fingers fucking crossed, anyway.