Rough and Ready (More Than A Cowboy #2) - Vanessa Vale Page 0,4

women, especially the groupies who only wanted to be taken for a ride on an MMA fighter’s dick. They were good for a quick release, but that was it.

The kid was all attitude, no footwork, and I knew Gray wanted me to take him down a notch or two. I'd put him on the ground several times, which only pissed him off. He hadn't even landed a punch, not until after the bell, and he came after me. I was used to guys' egos, but this little fuck? Yeah, Gray wasn't going to work with him, and he'd have to deal with any fallout for Emory with the doctor. I didn't think there would be much because not many people crossed The Outlaw. And if I stood beside him? Yeah, the doc would piss himself.

I was angry about the sucker punch, so instead of hitting him right back—which was what I would have done a few years ago as a punk on the streets—I let Gray deal with him. I walked off, heading to my apartment to shower, to chill with a protein drink and some crappy TV. Not used to anyone being in the elevator—it had only been Gray and Emory who also lived above the gym until last week—I almost bumped into her. Her.

The look on her face stopped me cold better than a fist to the face from any fighter.

She hadn’t been just startled or surprised. No, she’d been fucking petrified. I swore I saw all color drain from her face when she got a glimpse of me. Her eyes had widened, then darted past my shoulder at her only means of escape. A shiver had gone through her as if she’d been exorcised of a ghost. Then, all of a sudden, she pulled herself together and moved past me, fast, lugging a moving dolly loaded with boxes. I'd held my hands up and took a step back, letting her know without words I meant her no harm. It didn't matter. The damage had somehow been done.

I knew I was pretty scary looking. Being six-three, I loomed over people. I had shoulders like a linebacker and tattoos covered my arms. My nose was crooked, and my jaw was a little sore from where the kid sucker punched me.

I’d been told I looked fucking mean. A lot of the time, I felt mean. I was dark on the inside. Angry, dangerous. I wasn’t the asshole I used to be. I wasn’t the fucked-up kid. The army and training with Gray had set me straight. Still, grown men gave me plenty of room on the sidewalk. But this? With Harper—Emory had told me her name—this was different. I didn’t like it at all. I didn’t want someone like her to fear me.

I didn't get on the elevator. I couldn't just ignore the fact that I'd frightened her. I stood there, watched as she walked quickly toward the outside doors. Stopped. She didn't know I was watching her, perhaps thought I'd gone upstairs. She looked down at the ground, her body shaking. Shit. I’d done that to her. I wanted to go to her, grab her in my arms and let her know she was safer with me than anywhere else, but that wasn’t going to work. Not now.

After a few seconds, she lifted her chin, rolled her shoulders back. I could see she was taking deep breaths, and her fingers relaxed around the handle of the dolly.

She was tall and dressed in a t-shirt and running shorts. I couldn't miss her slim shape. Her legs were long, well-muscled. Between the shapely calves and the running shoes, I guessed her workout choice. Was she going for a run now, once she ditched those boxes? While it wasn't even six, it was dark out. Cold, too. While this wasn't a dangerous part of town, it wasn't safe for her to run alone at night, anywhere. So I’d stick around and make sure she didn't do something stupid.

Yeah, that was the reason why I leaned against the wall, took stock of my new neighbor.

Her dark hair was sleek and stick straight, grazing her shoulders. It had to be silky soft to touch. When she'd freaked, I hadn't missed her dark eyes, the high cheekbones, full lips. As she stood there and pulled herself together, I took the time to notice her perfect ass and toned thighs.

I was a red-blooded male, and she was hot. I couldn't help but notice, couldn’t help I