Don't You Refuse: A Full Mount Romance, #3

By Claire St. Rose

Don't You Refuse is book 3 and the finale of A Full Mount Romance trilogy!

Don't you dare tell me no.

Don't you dare wander into my world, looking too sexy to ignore but too innocent to touch.
Don't you dare f**k with my head on the night of the biggest fight of my life.
Don't you dare make me throw my MMA career away for you.
Don't you dare make me bleed, fight, and claw to make you mine.

And if you do all that anyways…
Then don't you dare say no when I tell you what I want in return:

My ring on your finger.
My baby in your belly.
My name on your lips – moaning into the night.
Forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBook Publishing World
• Release date: Jan 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386146490

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Don’t You Refuse: A Bad Boy MMA Romance (Full Mount Romance Book 3)

By Claire St. Rose

Don’t you dare tell me no.

DON’T YOU DARE WANDER into my world, looking too sexy to ignore but too innocent to touch.

Don’t you dare f**k with my head on the night of the biggest fight of my life.

Don’t you dare make me throw my MMA career away for you.

Don’t you dare make me bleed, fight, and claw to make you mine.

And if you do all that anyways...

Then don’t you dare say no when I tell you what I want in return:

My ring on your finger.

My baby in your belly.

My name on your lips – moaning into the night.

Forever.

Chapter 1: The Bell and the Clock

I n the blue shorts , weighing in at 185 pounds on the dot... all the way from Chicago... ranked #8 in the nation... Mr. Roy Callahan! Micah’s opponent lifted his muscular arms wildly, as he soaked in the cheers and shouts from the crowd.

The man in black, weighing in at 186.2lbs... Your hometown hero... ranked #15... ‘Monster’ Micah Anderson! The announcer’s booming voice looped in his ear, as the crowd clapped and hollered, louder than with his opponent’s announcement. There was no denying that Micah was the man that they had come to see.

The referee, clothed in all black and wearing black sterile gloves, joined the trio in the center of the ring. The announcer held up the microphone to his mouth, as he quickly went through the rules of the fight, a speech Micah had pretty much memorized from all his years in the ring. Let’s make this a good fight, boys. Touch hands.

Here it was, Micah’s moment. It all began with the hitting of four gloves together, a bell being sounded, and the room going from a ruckus to a pin drop. He wasn’t sure if he was ready, but there were no other options. It was time for a fight.

Micah tapped his opponent’s hands, wincing as the man slammed into the wrapped gauze around his fingers. Roy smiled at him, knowingly. A glimmer of satisfaction peaked in his eyes, as he realized he had found his competitor’s weakness.

Micah bounced back as he began his dance, his opponent jumping in. As Micah predicted based on the videos he watched, his opponent started quickly, attempting to land a right jab and a head kick. Micah ducked as Roy landed his foot on his shoulder. He attempted to grab, but Roy was too quick, knocking Micah with a quick knee to his chest. Micah was able to send him flying backwards, nailing one small face hit as Roy remained on his feet.

Additional quick test jabs flew between the two men. Each looked for their opening, their opportunity to attack. Micah followed his opponents lead with a surprise kick, but Roy was ready for it, pushing him backwards. Micah struggled to remain balanced, relying on a hand to help him back up to his feet. Roy pounced aggressively, swinging at his head and body as he attempted to push him to the ground.

Micah felt his body tumble to the ground. He lifted his legs, preventing Roy from getting in a mounted position, but Roy managed to sneak to his side, hitting him over and over again. He used his feet to push him off, delivering a blow to his chest. The referee interjected, giving Micah the chance to get upright.

The bell soon went off, ending the first five minutes of the round. Micah returned to his spot in the octagon ring. His head coach gone, he was left with the rest of his staff to shout pointers at him. Micah tuned them all out, as he longingly searched for Alice in the haze of the crowd.

The minute ended quickly as the referee brought the men back to the center once again. Roy sneered, laughing wildly. It was clear to both of them who had the advantage and skill. And with the bell, Roy took over. He jostled Micah instantly with a quick high face kick, forcing Micah to retreat to the wire cage.

Micah stood and turned as Roy leapt at him, hitting the cage. However, Roy continued to come at him, striking Micah as he attempted to duck. Another knee-kick combo, this one hit him square in the face. Micah felt a warm, familiar pool gather around his eyebrow. Blood. It trickled down his face, clouding his vision.

Now, even more wounded, Micah had nothing to lose. He began to strike out wildly, hoping to land something, anything. He could hear the voice of his coaches narrating the match for him, screaming at him to move left or right. Micah felt the man come near him, attempting to grab his neck with his long arm. He ducked, but Roy again managed to push him to the ground, taking both of their bodies down in the same motion.

A sea of red flooded his vision, as Micah used every bit of his energy to move his head in quick ducks. He used his hips and thighs to grab against Roy’s own body, flipping him over in reverse. Micah finally had his moment and he sought as many hammer hits as he could get. Precious seconds ticked down before the bell forced Micah off. His time dominating was short-lived.

An official leapt at him, pushing a towel to his face, asking him questions. Micah’s body gave in, falling forward slightly in exhaustion. The official repeated his questions again with Micah giving feeble answers, enough to allow him to stay in the ring.

As the two men lined up for the last round, Micah had a moment where he realized he could give up. He could bow out with the eye injury without losing much of his reputation. But before he could make his decision, the bell had rung again, and Micah was back in it for better or for worse.

Roy again came out blazing. He seemed so full of energy and life for someone in the final round of a fight. Micah could barely stand, let alone muster up the strength to deliver anything but soft blows. He again found himself telling himself to tapout, to submit.

Each strike became a death sentence. Each kick was willing him to give in. As Roy managed to power him down to the ground once more, Micah had only just enough in him to use his lifted legs again to prevent the man from getting too much of an advantage. More of Micah’s blood splattered on his opponent’s bare chest.

Faced with no way out, he lifted his hand to make the motion of defeat. He turned his head towards the cage, avoiding the glare from the octagon ring’s harsh lighting. Everything he saw went pale and fuzzy, as his mind dimmed from the force of the hits. Micah was defeated, and this was the time to let it go.

His hand hit the mat, as he searched the crowd once more for a sign, for anything to keep him going. From the corner of his clear eye, a vision appeared. Surrounded by gold and white, it screamed his name over and over again. He used his strength to peel away from Roy. He needed to see what was making that sound. He slipped out of the grip, staggering back to his feet.

Moving around the octagon, Roy on his heels, he saw her. Alice, standing in the aisle of the first row, was shouting his name, calling out to him. She had arrived with a mere minute left in the final round, enough to see Micah badly beat and bruised. It was agony. Every hit and kick that he took, she took too.

Micah took a deep breath as he was able to steady himself. His good eye was fixed on Alice in his peripheral. He had to fight for her. He had to win this for her. He summoned every bit that was left in him and ran at his opponent with a full burst. Grabbing his leg, he took him down in a single takedown. He wasted no time, pummeling the man with his fists and elbows.

Each hit was for her. Each strike was for her. His opponent transformed from a fighter to the face of his former coach, to the people in his life that had abandoned him, to the man who had physically hurt Alice. The