Don't You Leave: A Full Mount Romance, #2

By Claire St. Rose

Don't You Leave is book 2 of A Full Mount Romance trilogy. Book 3, Don't You Refuse, is available everywhere now!

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: 9781386167686

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Don’t You Leave: A Bad Boy MMA Romance (Full Mount Romance Book 2)

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 Wake-Up Call

The ground is cold , gravelly, and wet. I think it’s raining. It’s got to be raining. I mean, why else would my hair be soaking wet, clinging to the rocks and shards of glass on the ground? I try to lift my head, to shake it out from the grime, but I cannot. I am pushed back down again. Or do I lay it back down? It’s hard to tell. Everything is so dark, so cold. I am surprised I can feel at all.

There’s a laugh in the distance. It’s so low that it shakes every bit of my body, echoing in my ears, vibrating my insides. In an instant, I’m aware of a hulking shadow over me, eyeing my ring with a look that tells me I am not getting away anytime soon. His eyes flame with lust. He falls on top of me, weighing down my hips with his thighs. He pushes my face further into the ground. I’m crying—or, at least, I’m trying to cry, but every time I try to make a sound, I feel a sharp blow, followed by a rush of blood filling my mouth.

He pins my hand and yanks the ring from my finger. He smiles through yellowed teeth, breathing heavily on me, his breath stinking of cheap beer and stale cigarettes. There’s something else in his eyes—pity, remorse, regret—I don’t know—I might be imagining it.

He gets up and leaves me lying in the alley. I know this dream. I’ve had it a hundred times. He gets up, turns the corner, and runs off with my ring. Every time it’s the same thing, replaying like a Vine video—

—but tonight is different. Tonight, he doesn’t run off. Instead, another figure joins him—taller, slimmer, an imposing body sucking the light from the streetlamp behind him. This new figure slowly walks up to me. I try to sit up and look at him, but a pain in my side, probably a cracked rib, makes my arms weak, and I fall again into a puddle. The second man kneels before me and lifts my head with his gloved hand. My heart leaps. For the first time, I may have someone to save me. I may have hope yet.

He removes his hood, and I glimpse scars on his face and black tribal tattoos that line the curves of his neck. His brown eyes flicker red and gold as they stare me down. I press my head back down onto the ground, away from him. He’s not supposed to be here.

At this moment, all I want in the world is to get away from Micah.

ALICE STRETCHED HER arms out wide and attempted to bring air back into her body. Her breath hitched, as she quickly sat up, grabbing at the edges of her pillows and kicking off the remains of her comforter and sheets. Her gray tank top was damp with sweat, her strawberry-blonde hair forming knots from the tossing and turning. She ran her fingers through the pieces as she contemplated just what she had finished dreaming. Micah’s unannounced presence was something completely new to the dream narrative she had become so familiar with. Yet, while she felt she should be soothed, there was something undeniably sinister to his appearance.

She looked out towards the yard. Orange and red fading sunlight lingered at the very edge of her windows. The white curtains lifted gently in the air as the wind whispered in. Alice turned over to face her the other wall, which was now covered in art work she had painted herself. The colors of her acrylics and watercolors were blending in with the dying sun, painting its own picture on her bedroom floor.

She grabbed for her cell phone. Two messages, both from Micah. She ignored them for the moment as she glanced at the time and her calendar list. Her schedule had become Micah’s: lists of her MMA fighter’s practices, tournaments, and exhibition fights. While the two weren’t official, Alice had already taken up the task of being his support system. His career, after all, meant the world to him.

Tonight was an exhibition fight. It meant nothing in the grand scheme of his fighting career. However, it was another opportunity for a win, another chance to gain a sponsor or two. Alice would go, taking her conspicuous place in the third row. She sighed and looked at her phone as she put it down. 6:45. That would be—

"Oh, shit! she exclaimed, springing up out of the bed. Shit, shit, shit!" She had overslept—the match was starting at 7:30. Panicked, she ran to her wardrobe and quickly tossed off her dewy lounge clothing onto the floor of her bedroom. She picked out her underwear from a pile in a dresser, then turned her attention to the closet where she ran her fingers over the closet full of new dresses. Most still had tags on them—all recent purchases courtesy of Micah’s credit cards, bought at his insistence.

With no time to really consider her options, she tossed on a black, backless dress and a pair of silver heels. The dress came with a simple rhinestone belt that glittered in the light making little traces of rainbows as she walked out into her living room. While most nights, she was tiptoeing out of her home in an effort to not alert her roommate Caroline of her coming and goings, this time she knew she was running so late that Caroline had already left for her evening shift at the diner where both of them worked.

Purse in hand, she locked her door and ran down the stairs, fixing her hair with a small comb. Little tangles still lingered in her hair from her bad dream. She pulled at the knots, as she directed the waiting cab driver to the stadium. Frustrated, she gave up, instead braiding the mess in a long weave that covered her neck and tickled her naked back.

The stadium in Steubenville was decked out for the night. Crowds of young and old men and women poured steadily in through the doors. A long line circled the ticket booths as ticket scalpers clamored to make deals at the entrances. Alice trotted past, weaving through the crowds as she struggled to find her seat.

As she