Crash: A Bad Boy MMA Romance by Haylee Delane Page A

wrong,” he said in a husky voice.
    “I’m sure you say that to everyone, too,” I countered, taking a step back from him.
    I could feel the heat of his body and smell the scent of his skin. Every instinct in me wanted to throw myself into his arms and burst into tears. My body was compelling me to tell him that we were going to have a child together, that he was the father of my baby.
    That instinctive, hormonal part of me wanted to have some kind of assurance that he and I would be together forever. That he would take care of me and hold me through the difficulties of life.
    That weak bitch needed to shut the hell up. There was no way that I would ever say any of that to Crash. Admitting that would only mean torment and pain and shame. I knew he couldn’t love me. And allowing myself to believe that could destroy everything, for both of us.
    “No, I don’t,” he said, taking a step towards me.
    I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, barricading myself from him as best I could.
    “Do you really expect me to believe that? I know what kind of man you are. I could tell from the moment I met you.”
    “You can believe whatever you want, baby. But the truth is, I can’t get you out of my mind. Believe me, it’s fucking with me. I haven’t had my dick wet since our night together.”
    “Am I supposed to be complimented by that?”
    “I didn’t mean it as a compliment. It’s a statement of fact.”
    “I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that information.”
    “Look, I know you’re freaked out about the whole stepbrother thing. But I also know that night in Brazil was the hottest fucking thing you ever experienced in your life. All I’m saying is maybe we should have a repeat performance. Get it out of our systems. Then you can go your way, and I can go mine.”
    “Wow, what a generous offer,” I said with a sneer. I brushed past him and started charging up the beach back towards the house.
    “Wait a minute,” he said, hurrying up behind me. “I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck. I have no idea what I’m doing here. I don’t do relationships.”
    I turned to him with a frown, my arms still crossed. “You and I do not have a relationship.”
    “Harper, I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I close my eyes, I just see your hot little tits. I remember the feel of your ass in my hands. Jesus, I’m getting hard right now.”
    “I don’t need to know about your erection,” I said, not looking at him.
    “Please, at least go out with me. Let me buy you dinner, take you somewhere nice.”
    “I can’t agree to that right now,” I said. “I need to get back to the hospital. I’m too busy to think about this right now. You’re putting me in a very awkward position.”
    “Fine. I’ll leave you alone, on one condition.”
    I stopped and turned to him. “What is your condition?” I asked.
    “My condition is that you admit that our night in Brazil was the hottest sex of your life.” He looked at me with that confident grin he always seemed to wear. It drove me crazy. It was both sexy and antagonizing and made me want to slap it off his face.
    “I admit that and you stop pestering me for a date? You stop talking about that night, and you never bring it up again?”
    “Okay, sure.”
    “Okay, fine. That night in Brazil was the hottest sex of my life,” I said mechanically.
    “That didn’t sound very convincing. Pretending like you don’t mean it, when I know you do.”
    I sighed and felt myself ready to burst into tears from the frustration. Why was he doing this to me? If he knew the kind of position he was putting me in… If I could tell him, maybe it would be easier. But he could never know.
    “The truth is, the night I spent with you was the most erotic, pleasurable, crazy-fucking-amazing night of my life.”
    He cocked his chin and crossed his arms, still smiling at me. His eyes twinkled with mirth. “Now that is the truth,” he said.
    “Are we done here?” I