Trigger: An Alpha Bad Boy MMA Romance by Simone Scarlet MMA Page A

don’t, that rusty-haired son-of-a-bitch is gonna go back and break my father’s legs.”
    I looked up at Travis and gulped dryly.
    He was right, I guess. But this didn’t feel right. None of it did.
    A notorious roadside bar? An illegal fight in the parking lot? This sounded more like an old Patrick Swayze movie than real life; and I knew the plot was just as dangerous.
    “Travis…” I opened my mouth to continue pleading, but he ignored me. Reaching out to grab my hand, Travis dragged me through the crowd towards a back door of the bar; and then out into the cool, crisp night.
    There was a balcony out back, and more stairs leading to a dirty parking lot looking out over the water.
    Red led a procession down the stairs – his bouncer, Roy. Me and Travis. And then a line of bikers, truckers and other bar patrons – all still clutching their bottles of Budweiser and shots of whiskey.
    Out in the parking lot, somebody flicked on some floodlights – and it lit up a makeshift circle drawn in the dirt.
    Clearly this wasn’t a one-time thing. Fights out here happened a lot.
    Roy lumbered off to one edge of the circle, and started stripping off his jacket and shirt. Two of Red’s other bouncers – one of them the same son-of-a-bitch Travis punched out that afternoon – shuffled over to grab his shit. They were his makeshift corner team, I guessed.
    Red led Travis and I to the opposite end of the circle.
    “Ain’t nothing fancy,” he admitted, spitting into the dirt as he addressed us, “but it’s how we do things out here.” And then he turned to face the crowd.
    “Ladies and gentlemen,” Red roared, his voice louder than a megaphone. “You know the drill. One round. Bare knuckle. First one to tap, nap or snap loses.”
    …and the crowd roared their approval.
    As Red was busy with the crowd, I turned and looked up at Travis desperately. ‘Tap, nap or snap’ was an ominous warning. It meant the winner had to make his opponent either surrender, get knocked out… or snap a bone and be unable to continue.
    “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” I warned Travis, watching him peel off his t-shirt. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
    Travis pulled his tight shirt off over his head and handed it to me. It was still warm as I accepted it.
    “Hun, I don’t reckon I got much choice.”
    I’m ashamed to say I blanked out for a second when he said that. I was momentarily stunned to see my former boyfriend – my first love – shirtless for the first time in years.
    Dammit, my stomach flipped as I looked up and down over that long, lean torso. Travis’ broad chest and tight abs were both achingly familiar to me, and yet so different to how I remembered them.
    Years of training had filled him out a little. Tattoos adorned what I’d remembered as smooth, tan skin. Scars marked his body like badges of honor.
    But despite the new additions, this was still the same man I’d loved all those years ago – the one who’d taken my virginity in the back of his dad’s truck, and who’s body I’d once been as familiar with as my own.
    “Roxy?”
    Travis’ sharp voice snapped me from my thoughts.
    “Roxy,” he repeated. “You blanked out on me for a second, there?”
    I shook my head.
    “Sorry.”
    “Just pay attention.” He reached over, and I felt his heavy hand on my shoulder. “You’re all I’ve got, babe. Anything goes wrong, I need you to look after it.”
    And then he reached down and pressed his lips against mine – and I nearly fainted.
    It felt so natural, and organic – but at the same time, it was like mainlining drugs. My heart skipped a beat. My knees went weak. My panties flooded.
    “Roxy?”
    I shook my head, blinking as Travis pulled his lips from mine.
    “We good?” he asked, eyes burning hotly.
    I nodded: “We’re good.”
    And, with that, he turned to face his opponent.

Chapter Twenty Three
     
    Travis
     
    It’d been weeks since my last fight – and I’d never expected my next