Bucking Bear (Pounding Hearts 3)

I don’t hate Wade, not really, but right now he is standing between me and the next fight. He is standing in my way of getting my fucking belt. Standing there talking shit—telling everyone that I have a weak fucking jaw.

Fuck that. I ain’t been knocked out once. Not one fucking time.

That ball of fury is forming in my stomach again. It’s rolling around, moving itself into uncomfortable positions. It’s making me want to rage, to shift into Bear mode. I want to fuck shit up.

Fuck, I have seen myself when I get into the cage. I have watched the videos. I get in there and fucking roar like a fucking animal. I take the punch and I hit right back as hard as I can. I don’t take shit in the ring.

I hurt people in there and right now I fucking love it. I can feel the blood quickly pumping in my body, the adrenaline rushing into me. Thank fuck I’m on my way to the gym. I need to punish something or someone.

Fuck!

I want to see Grace right now. I want to stop by her house and see how she and Hope are doing. I don’t though because right now I’m the fucking alpha fucking bear and I want to tear the shit out of something.

I focus that rage and anger. I put it in the little cage I have built inside myself. It’s too small, way too small to contain all that red boiling mess of rage, but it will hold up for a while. Long enough to make it to the gym and then the dojo. Maybe it’s time to spar with Reaper and Brett again.

I step out of my shower and dry myself. Looking down at the floor beside my bed, I laugh out loud, realizing that she didn’t get fully dressed after all. Her panties are lying right there next to my discarded underwear.

Yep, she won’t be getting those back.

Chapter Seven

Grace

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” my best friend, Mandy, gasps into the phone after I get done telling her about my night with Max.

It’s early afternoon and Hope is out with grandma, shopping. I have to work this evening so after putting away laundry and picking up around the house I’m resting up. After the workout Max gave me last night, if I don’t nap or save up my energy, I’m going to be dead on my feet tonight during rush.

There’s a long, quiet pause as Mandy digests all that I told her.

It’s been three days since I’ve talked to Mandy. I haven’t seen or heard from her since our night at the club. But it seems like we’ve both had a crazy weekend full of hot sex and pregnancy scares.

After listening to her spill her guts about getting back together with her ex-boyfriend, Brett—who’s also her sweetheart from high school and Max’s best friend—I spilled it all. I just had to get it out and tell someone.

I told her about waking up and not remembering how I got into Max’s bed. I told her about Carson and the crap he tried to pull, and my fear that he ruined what small chance I had with Max.

Then I gushed about how amazing Max is, and how much I like him.

Seriously, I really, really fucking like him.

And I told her how close Max and I came to screwing without protection. I think that last bit is what stunned her speechless.

“Mandy?” I prod and she starts laughing.

“So he’s hung like a horse, eh?” she asks, voice bubbly with her laughter.

And it’s my turn to gasp. “Seriously? After all of that that’s what you really want to know?”

Mandy laughs again and it sounds like she’s busting a gut over there. “Yeah, especially because I remember how much you used to complain about Carson’s cocktail weenie back in high school.”

“I did not!” I immediately and vehemently deny. I so wouldn’t do that… but after thinking about it for a moment I’m not so certain. “Did I?”

I vaguely recall complaining about Carson back then, definitely remember not being able to reach an orgasm with him because he was so quick…

Mandy squeals. “You so did. Remember, we used to say he puts the wee in weenie.”

“Oh my god, we did,” I groan with realization. “We were such immature bitches.”

Seriously, this is the father of my daughter we’re talking about here, but back then I guess I was bitter about how things were playing out. Making fun of Carson was just a way of letting out some steam.