Bad Boy's Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance (52 page)

“Thank fuck for that,” he replied, throwing the condom to the floor. “Because I’ve been dying to fill up that pussy for quite some time.”

Foster held my legs open and pressed my thighs up towards his chest. I looked into his eyes, as the tip of his cock rubbed against my folds until it found the opening. He paused and then plunged into my wetness.

“Fuck,” I yelled out, snapping my head back as his cock completely filled me up. Without the thin rubber of the condom, I could feel the throbbing of his penis inside me, like a ticking time-bomb ready to explode.  

“This feels so good, baby,” Foster groans. “I can feel your wetness soaking my cock.”

His heavy balls slapped against my ass with each thrust, as his head rubbed against my upper wall bringing me back to the brink.

I reached out and grabbed hold of his arms, digging my nails into his flesh, so he could feel how close I was. I tried to pull him closer to me, but he resisted. The more I tried to finish the more he fought me.  

My sex contracted and squeezed around his member, as if trying to milk the cum from his tip. I saw Foster’s resistance slipping and knew he was close as well.

Foster leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “You can come now.”

I gave in to him. He thrust himself deep inside me. My vision went blurry and suddenly the only sound I could hear was our heavy breathing. It was like we were the only two people in the word.  

I came without making a sound, other than my fingers clenching the sheets and my body convulsing on the bed.  

My vision was still blurry, but I felt Foster thrust deep into my core as he emptied himself inside me. His cock stayed hard, as he lay on top of me, looking into my eyes as we both recovered from our orgasms.  

Eventually he pulled his cock from me, leaving me feeling less whole, like something was now missing. His essence dribbled out of my pussy and trickled down the insides of my thighs.

Foster collapsed onto his back, but I wasn’t quite finished. I crawled on top of him and worked my way down to his member which was still firm but gradually going flaccid. It was covered in my juices and his own cum.  

“What are you—” Foster started asking, before I interrupted him by taking his cock in my mouth. I devoured the mixture of our juices, and sucked him hard, making the most of a rare opportunity to fit the whole of him in my mouth. Just.  

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Foster said, after I’d licked his cock clean.  

“You like?”

“Oh, I like.”

“Good. I’ll do it again next time. On one condition.”  

“Which is?” Foster asked quizzically.

“You let me come in your face.”

Foster smiled. “Alright. I guess I can live with that.”

I wanted to kill whoever designed graduation gowns.

Or whoever thought it was a good idea to cram thousands of people inside a hall and have them sit there for hours with no air conditioning on a day when the temperature approached one hundred degrees.

Either way, I wanted to kill
someone
. I couldn’t help it; I got grumpy when I was hot and sweaty in public.

At least I didn’t have to give a speech. I’d just missed out on one of the top three spots in my graduating year, which made me furious until I remembered that I didn’t care anymore.  

I was so used to grades being the be all and end all—the thing that defined me as a person—that the new me hadn’t quite gotten used to not caring.  

I’d gone back through all my exams and considered challenging the grades my professors had given me to see if I could get another 0.02 onto my GPA and scrape into the top three.  

Then it hit me—it didn’t matter. I already had a job lined up for after graduation, and my new employer didn’t care about my grades. All I had to do was pass the bar exam, which compared to everything I’d been through in the last couple of years should be a walk in the park.

Another old habit I’d struggled to break was always worrying about money. I didn’t have to do that anymore, but a lifetime of careful budgeting was hard to escape.  

When I’d been considering dropping out of law school, Dad sat down with me and asked me whether I really wanted to become a lawyer. I’d answered yes immediately because it was true. My decision to go into corporate law had been influenced by my mom, but becoming a lawyer was still a passion of mine. I didn’t want to give it up.

Dad had then asked what areas of law really excited me. There weren’t many, but one class caught my eye. Constitutional Law II. The class was taught by a professor who had argued in front of the Supreme Court, and it covered freedom of speech and equal rights.  

I told Dad I wanted to stick up for the little guy. I sounded like a naive schoolgirl. At least half of my colleagues had started law school with the dream of becoming a constitutional lawyer, but then little things like soul-crushing debt had popped up to pay a visit and suddenly they were all chasing the big law firm jobs.  

With my grades, I would be able to get a job, but it wouldn’t pay well. The little guy couldn’t pay legal bills.

“You don’t need to worry about money any more, sweetie,” Dad had said.  

At first, I’d thought he meant I could just live off Kathleen, which I had absolutely no intention of doing, but then he explained about Mom’s insurance policy.  

I was rich. Sort of. The money wouldn’t last forever, but it would keep me going for a really long time. I planned to pay off my student debt straight away, and then invest the rest of it. Perhaps I could put some aside for a few nice vacations with Foster.

Foster hadn’t worked in nine months, but he hadn’t exactly sat around the house either. He’d put that massive brain to use, and signed up to help out at legal aid clinics. He sat at a table and helped out whoever walked through the door with whatever random legal issue they had.  

And he loved it.

He wouldn’t do it forever, mind you. There had already been a few signs of impatience creeping in. He’d helped me out with schoolwork a lot, and gave Kathleen regular consultations just so he could keep in the game. He’d be back at a firm one day, but for now he was making up for years of chasing money over everything else, and it made him happy.

I looked for Foster in the crowd as I joined the line to collect my diploma. Foster usually stood out in a crowd, but the hall was packed and I couldn’t see him anywhere.

As the dean called my name a loud cheer went up from near the front of the crowd to my right hand side. I looked over and saw Foster standing there banging his hands together loud enough that most people in the hall were turning to look at him.

I collected my diploma and got shuffled back into the audience after taking the mandatory cheesy photo with the law school’s photographer.

The ceremony took another thirty minutes, but at least now I had Foster to look at while I daydreamed about what we would do when I finally got these God-damned robes off. Well, first I would have a shower, but after that we could have some fun and make the most of the last week in my apartment before we moved into our new place near Capitol Hill.  

It had cost a small fortune and taken a chunk out of Mom’s money, but it would be worth it to have somewhere to live with Foster.

I couldn’t wait to get out of the robes, but after the ceremony, everyone wanted to have their picture taken with the graduates. I hung out with law school friends for a bit. They all wanted to meet Foster, but Kathleen and Dad had to hide the fact they were a couple. Law students were a judgmental bunch and I didn’t need that information flying around before I’d even got off the campus.

“Want to go for a walk?” Foster asked. “I’m starting to remember why I didn’t enjoy law school. Do these people ever stop? I heard one of them talking about how he’s going to go home and start studying for the bar exam
this evening
.”

I laughed. “Actually, I was thinking—”

“Oh hell no. I want two whole days with you before you become a stressed-out nightmare to be around.”  

“One day,” I bargained.

“One day, but two nights.”

“Deal. Where do you want to go?”

“Let’s just walk down to the National Mall and hang out by the Washington Monument.”

“Trust you to pick the phallus shaped object,” I pointed out.

“Hey, it’s the only ‘phallus shaped object’ in this city bigger than the one in my pants. I feel inadequate around it, which must be how normal men feel around me.”

“Sometimes I wonder how I ever fell in love with someone so arrogant.”

“Yeah, but then I get you in bed and you remember.”

I couldn’t argue with that. We strolled down to the Washington Monument, and somehow Foster managed to get tickets to go up to the top even though it was always sold out well in advance.  

The view from the top was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. You got a good view of D.C. coming in on a plane to Reagan Airport, but that didn’t compare to standing in the middle of the Mall and looking around at the nation’s capital where all the magic happened. Or
sometimes
happened when people could agree on things. For a budding young lawyer, it was an absolute inspiration.  

Foster stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me. Even up here his mind was only on one thing, so I had to slap his hand away as it crept down between my legs.  

“Give it ten years and you’ll be a famous name in this town,” he whispered in my ear.

“I don’t want to be famous. I want to make a difference.”

“You’ll do both. I’m sure of it.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you going back to work soon?”

I hadn’t told Foster this, but I didn’t want him rushing back to being a full-time lawyer again. I didn’t want him working late, and being stressed out all the time. That was my job, especially while I studied for the bar exam.

“Not yet,” he replied. “I figure you’ll need some support while you study, so I want to be around to cook you meals and remind you to get some fresh air occasionally. Besides, planning for the wedding will keep me busy.”

“Mmm,” I murmured, sinking back into his chest as he held me tightly in his arms. Then I snapped out of it. “Wait, what wedding?”

“Hopefully ours,” Foster said. “Assuming you say yes.”

A small box appeared in front of me, which Foster flicked open to reveal a large diamond. The sun shone through the opening in front of us and illuminated it perfectly, letting me appreciate the rock in all its natural beauty.  

Is this real?
I’d accepted that being with Foster meant I wouldn’t get a romantic proposal, or a big white wedding. Foster wasn’t the type for grand gestures and romance. Or so I’d thought.

“I know it’s soon,” Foster said, breaking the uneasy silence. “But I do not have a single doubt in my mind about this. I’ve never wanted anything this much.”

“I can’t believe we’re going to do this.”

“Is that a yes?”  

“Dad’s going to go nuts.”

“April? Answer the damn question.”

“Of course it’s a yes.”

I threw my arms around him and pulled him towards me for a kiss. We held each other tightly, our lips not parting, until the guide politely coughed and informed us that we need to make our way back down.  

I was still staring at the ring on my finger when we made it back outside where Kathleen and Dad were waiting for us.

“I’m going to assume from the smile on your face and that massive rock on your finger, that you said yes?” Dad asked.

“Did you know?”

“Foster is apparently more traditional than I gave him credit for. He asked for my permission.”

“Good Lord, my son is growing up,” Kathleen joked.

“Don’t get carried away,” Foster said. “If Pierce had said no, I’d still have asked her anyway.”

We held hands as we walked off to find somewhere to eat. I didn’t make important decisions just to make Mom proud anymore, but I had a feeling she would be pretty damn pleased with how things had turned out.  

Dad was happy, and I was ecstatic. I couldn’t say my life was perfect—not without Mom—but life was damn good right now.

I had a feeling it would only get better.

“You scared?” Foster asked. 

I nodded. The nerves never went away. 

“Come on, you know what to do,” Foster teased. 

I smiled and placed my hand on his chest. I did this before every court appearance to calm my nerves. Something about feeling his heartbeat always helped me relax ever since that first courtroom appearance in the Doris case.

My one regret about not working for Arrington, Arrington, & Hedges was that I’d had to drop the hunt for Doris’ son. At least Foster was still working on it, and by some miracle Doris was still clinging on to life. There was hope for a happy ending yet.

“Okay, I’m good,” I said, picking up my materials and walking into the court. Foster took his usual seat in the audience.

This was my fifteenth appearance representing a client in a courtroom, and my third in front of Judge Whiteman. I still had the same butterflies in my stomach that had kept me awake the night before the first trial. 

“Good to see you again, Mrs. Arrington,” Judge Whiteman said as I introduced myself to the court. “I enjoyed reading your brief, although not as much as that one you filed a few years ago.”

Every time. Every fucking time I saw Judge Whiteman he slipped in a little reminder of that brief. If I ever did become famous, he was going to make a fortune telling that story on the after-dinner circuit around D.C.

“I’ll try to spice it up a bit next time,” I replied. 

Today was my first jury trial. I had to convince six people that my client had suffered severe discrimination in the workplace, such that she’d had to resign and had suffered a mental breakdown. 

I’d practically had a panic attack when the case had first landed on my desk. We were going up against a large department store that had retained a law firm almost as big as Arrington, Arrington, & Hedges. 

Fortunately, the big law firm had taken one look at me and figured this would be a walk in the park. They didn’t prepare properly and I locked the case down in jury selection. The actual trial would be a formality now.