Rowdy

  The Practice Guy: Rowdy

  The Practice Guy #1

  * * *

  Becca Colton

  Copyright © September 2019 Becca Colton

  All rights reserved.

  Cover image © Deposit Photos/fxquadro

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  Enjoy steamy short reads filled with alpha males who know what they want?

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  Table of Contents

  Mailing List

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Also by Becca Colton

  Mailing List

  Copyright Notice

  Chapter 1

  Rowdy

  Groceries N Stuff. I smile and shake my head as I stare up at the big sign over the front doors of the grocery store. This little town is a long way from the bright lights of Las Vegas and all the other big cities I traveled to when I was on the MMA circuit, which is exactly why I moved here. I’ve been in this little town for a couple of weeks now, after spending months looking around trying to find the perfect spot to settle down.

  I ruled out big cities almost immediately. I’ve spent too many years surrounded by bright lights, and everyone knows who I am. All the men want to fight me simply because of who am I am; they want a chance to show their dick’s bigger than mine. As if that were even a possibility. And the women? Well, they want to fuck me because of who I am. But that’s not who I am anymore. That’s who I was.

  I’m thirty-eight years old. That’s basically old age in the world of mixed martial arts. Sure there are a few guys older than me still climbing into the cage on a regular basis, but do I really want to celebrate my fortieth birthday by facing off against a guy in his early twenties eager to take my title? Eager to make a name for himself by taking down the champ? I don’t fucking think so.

  So here I am, in a little town where I’ve been recognized by exactly two people. A guy at the hardware store said I looked just like Rod “Rowdy” Rowling, and the other guy was an over-the-road trucker who’d actually seen one of my fights when he was in Vegas during a title fight.

  I enter the grocery store, enjoying the air conditioning. One thing about deciding to live in the south: It’s almost always hot, even when fall is just a month away.

  There’s two girls at one of the two cash registers. Looks like I came in during shift change. One of the girls has long blonde hair and nice wide hips that make my cock stir. Yeah, I definitely made the right choice in moving here. I can’t tell which girl is starting—both of them are looking down at the drawer as they count the money—but if the blonde is at the register when I check out then I might be picking up more than food during this little shopping trip.

  I grab one of the little plastic baskets by the door and head down a random aisle. I don’t need much, but tonight’s a night to celebrate. The paperwork is finally complete and the building I plunked some money down on is now mine. My dream, my own gym to help others get fit and stay healthy, is now that much closer to becoming a reality. I grab a thick steak, a big fist-sized potato to bake, a frozen apple cobbler for dessert, and a bag of sugar for some sweet tea. After thinking about it for a minute, I grab another steak and potato, just in case Blondie comes over and works up an appetite with me. The cobbler’s big enough to share. I grin as I walk toward the front of the store, wondering what she tastes like. I lick my lips, looking forward to finding out.

  Looks like it’s my lucky day because the sexy thick blonde is at the register. I let my eyes wander up and down her curvy body, and then I notice she’s breathing heavy, and her hands are trembling as they hover over the cash register, her eyes locked on to the guy standing in front of her. The guy with a knife pointed over the tiny counter separating them.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself, lady,” he says. “Give me the money now or I’ll cut you.”

  The girl’s hands are shaking bad as she swallows and licks her lips. My eyes lock on to her tongue for just a second before I force myself to focus. She’s shaking but doing her best to stay in control. She’s not crying, not freaking out. She’s brave. I’m going to make sure that bravery doesn’t get her hurt.

  I reach into the basket as I approach. The guy is focused on the girl. He doesn’t see me until I’m just a few feet away.

  He turns toward me, startled, but the knife is still pointing at the girl.

  “What the fuc—” he starts to say, and then I throw the five-pound bag of sugar right at his face.

  I hear a satisfying crunch as his nose breaks and he staggers back, aiming the knife at me. I raise my hands, palms out.

  “Come on, buddy,” I say. “You don’t want to do this.”

  I don’t really give two fucks about what he wants to do. But I’m a trained professional fighter. A lethal fucking weapon. I gotta give the civilian a chance to back down before I stomp his ass into the ground.

  He lunges toward me, slashing out with the knife. I feel a tug at my shirt and look down. There’s a cut, about six inches long. Fucker ruined a perfectly good shirt, but he missed the skin. No sting. No blood. I grin at the man as I pull the shirt off and wrap the ends of it around my hands. I hear the girl breathe in sharply. I glance at her and see her staring at my chest. She’s breathing heavier now than she was when the punk had the knife pointed at her. Oh yeah. Me and Blondie are going to have some fun.

  The punk steps forward and lunges again. This time, I step into him, spinning until my back is against his chest. I wrap the shirt around the knife blade and slam my foot down on his instep. He cries out and his hand opens. I toss the shirt and knife several feet away, then spin back to face the would-be thief, trying to decide if I should hurt him a little or a lot.

  I glance at the girl again, unable to resist looking at her even when I’m in the middle of a fight. She’s not looking at my chest anymore. Instead, she’s pulled her gaze up to my face. My heart stops for a second, although it feels like an eternity. I forget to breathe as I stare into the biggest, bluest, most innocent eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, and I hear a voice whisper inside my head mine. I suck in a breath and my heart starts working again as the punk jumps toward me. I think about how close he had that sharp blade to the girl—my girl—and the answer comes to me. I’m going to hurt him a lot.

  I jump up and do a spinning reverse roundhouse kick, catching him on the side of the head with steel-toe-covered boot. He goes down, catching his face on the cashier’s counter on the way to the floor. I’m ready to follow through with a kick to the ribs but the guy is out cold.

  “Wow.”

  The voice is soft, breathless, and sexy as fuck. I look at the girl. She’s staring at my chest again. I can’t help myself and flex my pecs for her. She gasps, forcing herself to look up at my face when she realizes I’m looking at her. The cutest fucking blush I’ve ever seen creeps up her neck and cheeks.

  I put the groceries on the counter and smile at her.

  “Hi,” I say. “What’s your name?”

  Her blush becomes even redder.

  “Kaylee,” she stammers out. She stares at me for a second or two, and then drops her gaze, sweeping my groceries across the scanner. “I probably need to call the cops.”

  I nod. “Yeah, but I don’t like attention. The cops can come to me if they want a statement.” I swipe my card and smile at her. “I’m Rowdy, by the way.”

  “Hi,” she says. “I’m Kaylee.” And then she grimaces, shaking her head. ‘I guess I already told you that, didn’t I.”

  I hold back a laugh, reaching out to take her hand in mine. My pulse quickens and my cock grows hard as steel wh
en I feel her soft skin.

  “It’s okay, Kaylee. Nothing to be embarrassed about. You just had a knife in your face. Anybody would be rattled.”

  “You’re not,” she says softly.

  I wink at her as I grab my groceries, trying hard to resist adjusting my throbbing cock. These jeans are damn uncomfortable with a hard-on.

  “That’s because I’m a badass.”

  She giggles, and it takes all my willpower to keep from tossing her on the counter and fucking her brains out right there. I don’t want to leave, but I know she has to talk with the cops so dinner tonight is out, and if I stay any longer I’ll end up fucking her before the cops arrive. She’s just too sweet to resist.

  “See ya around, Kaylee,” I say, turning and heading toward the door, already planning on coming back to Groceries N Stuff tomorrow.

  “What do I say if the cops ask why you didn’t stay?”

  I look back at her and grin. “Tell them I had to go home and jerk off because the sexy cashier made my cock hard as a fucking rock.”

  Her eyes grow wide and her lips form a perfect “O”, and I can’t help but notice the hard nipples pressing against her shirt. Holy hell, I might have to jerk off in my truck just so I can concentrate enough to drive home. I flash her another wink and walk out the door.

  Chapter 2

  Kaylee

  “Tell them I had to go home and jerk off because the sexy cashier made my cock hard as a fucking rock. That is exactly what he said.”

  Kim, my best friend in the whole world since third grade, covers her mouth with both hands and squeals. I can’t blame her. I would’ve probably squealed too, but I was too shocked. First, I was almost robbed, and almost stabbed. And then I was saved by a real-life superhero, and then that superhero . . . what? Did he actually flirt with me? I shake my head and sip some more of my wine. There’s no way that god of all that is manly came on to me. I squeeze my thighs together just thinking about him.

  He had to be at least six feet tall, probably taller. Dark red hair trimmed short on the sides but long on top. A sexy beard. And so in shape that even his muscles had muscles. His biceps were as big as my head, and I’d die a happy girl if I could feel those broad shoulders and lean my head against that muscular chest just once.

  “Tell me about the tattoo,” Kim says. “You said he had a tattoo on his chest.”

  I blush. “I didn’t really get a good look at it. There was a lot going on.”

  Kim smirks. “I bet. There was a lot going on in your brain and between your legs.” She sets her wineglass down, hugs herself, closes her eyes, and makes kissy noises. “Oh, Rowdy. Take me, you big stud. Rock my world and ruin me for all other men.” And then more kissy noises.

  I pull the throw pillow tucked between me and the armrest of my couch and toss it at her, laughing.

  “It wasn’t like that,” I say. “The guy had a knife. I could have died.”

  That seems to sober Kim up. She gets a serious look on her face and nods. “Yeah, it’s still a shame you didn’t get a better look at him. I bet he probably had the dreamiest blue eyes.”

  “Green.”

  Kim smiles a wicked smile and I groan.

  “Fine,” I finally admit. “I saw it. It’s burned into my brain forever. It’s a big tattoo that covers his upper chest. A lion wearing a crown, and it has a stick of dynamite in its mouth.” I tilt my head, remembering it. “That was a little weird though. The dynamite had a fuse on both ends and both of them were lit. Dynamite doesn’t have a fuse on both ends, does it?”

  Kim shrugs and picks up her wineglass, taking another drink. “Heck if I know. Maybe it means he’s ready to explode.” She flashes me a mischievous smile. “Maybe he wants to explode in you.”

  I grab back the pillow I had tossed at her and cover my face, my cheeks feeling so hot they could be on fire.

  “Shut up,” I yell through the pillow, still clutching it to my face.

  “You know you want him,” Kim says. “Admit it.”

  I drop the pillow and roll my eyes. “Well, duh! Of course I want him. Any woman with a pulse would.”

  Kim groans. “I knew I should’ve stuck around. I always miss the good stuff.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “The good stuff?” I ask. “Hello. Remember the part about me almost getting stabbed?”

  She waves my comment away. “Well, yeah, that part was bad, but the rest of it is good.” She gets a dreamy look on her face. “Just imagine. He could be home right now, stroking his cock while thinking about you.”

  Just imagine? As if I could not imagine. I’ve tried not to think about it but the look on his face when he said it. He didn’t look like he was joking. And I couldn’t help but drop my eyes down below his waist when he said it His shoulders and chest and biceps aren’t the only thing big about him. I shiver, squeezing my thighs together. Fuck. My panties are drenched. Again. I’ve already changed them once tonight.

  “It doesn’t matter what he’s doing,” I say. “I’ll probably never see him again.”

  Kim stares at me. “Kaylee, where do you think you are? New York? No, you’re in a little town with one grocery store. That we both work at. We see everyone in this town.” She gets a look on her face like she just bit into a lemon. “Sometimes more than we want to.”

  “Oh.” I frown. “Is Scott still bugging you?”

  Kim rolls her eyes. “Of course. I kiss him once, he manages to grab my tit while trying to shove his tongue down my throat, and then all of a sudden I’m his girlfriend or something?” She shakes her head. “Hard to believe there was a time I thought about letting him be my first.”

  “Ugh!” I drain my wineglass and grab the bottle off the coffee table. “That deserves a refill.”

  She holds her glass out toward me. “No doubt.”

  We both just sit and drink our wine for a few minutes. I sigh. “What’s really sad is that most guys around here are just like Scott.” I wave my hand, sloshing a little wine on my hand. The thought crosses my mind that I might be slightly drunk. “Do you know how many first dates I’ve been on?”

  Kim nods. “Between the two of us, we’ve probably gone out with every guy around our age within fifty miles.”

  “And we’re both still virgins,” I say, trying to keep from sounding too upset about it. Trying, and failing. “Sometimes I think I’m just going to die a virgin. All the young guys around here are dumb”

  A crazy idea, possibly inspired by wine, pops into my head. “All the young guys around here are dumb,” I say again. I sit up quickly, sloshing a little more wine on my hand. I drink some of it so the glass isn’t so full. “My first time needs to be with a real man. An older man.”

  Kim’s eyes sparkle. “A man with a lion tattoo on his chest?”

  I blush. As soon as the idea is out of my head it sounds crazy. I lean back in the couch, shaking my head. “Never mind. I’m drunk. It’s a dumb idea.”

  Kim shakes her head. “It’s a great idea. It sounds like he’s into you.” She smirks. “So let him get into you.”

  I bite my lower lip. Just the idea of having Rowdy’s hard body on top of me makes me sweat, the fire between my legs roaring back to life as I imagine holding his shoulders as he fucks me. But then I shake my head.

  “It would never work,” I say. “He’s older, refined, with a body chiseled from stone. And he’s so brave. He took on that guy with the knife without any hesitation at all. I’m just a small-town girl barely old enough to drink. What could he possibly see in me?”

  “Tits, ass, and pussy?” Kim says.

  I roll my eyes. “That’s not really enough to base a relationship on.”

  Kim turns her head and looks at me. “Says who?” She shrugs. “Besides, you’re not looking to get married or anything. You’re just looking for a practice guy to show you how to do it right.” She closes her eyes, her words starting to slur. “I think I had too much to drink, Kay. Gonna crash here for the night.”

  She’s snoring befor
e I can even answer and I hold back a giggle.

  “A practice guy?” I ask myself. My lust overrides my common sense. “I’m going to do it,” I say. “He’s the one.”

  Kim makes some sound that sounds sort of like ‘awesome’ but I’m not sure.

  Slowly, and somewhat unsteadily, I stand up. I promise myself no more wine, ever, grab a blanket and cover Kim up on the couch, and then head to bed.

  Chapter 3

  Rowdy

  I bounce around on the balls of my feet, circling the punching bag as I throw out a few jabs. The sound echoes in my makeshift gym in the garage. If I’d hit a person as hard they’d be on the ground with a couple of broken ribs. I made sure to let the cops know that when they showed up at my house last night to ask questions. The punk who’d threatened Kaylee had lost a few teeth and his jaw was wired shut for a while, but he could’ve ended up in a lot worse shape. Besides, most of the damage to his face came from kissing the counter on his way down.

  The cops took my statement, got a couple of autographs for their kids, and then went on their way. True to my word, I had stroked my cock while in the shower, thinking of Kaylee’s big blue eyes looking up at me as she sucked my cock, coming harder than I’ve ever come in my life.

  I had gone to the grocery store bright and early, barely holding in my frustration when the guy at the register told me today and tomorrow are Kaylee’s days off.

  I knew I should’ve gotten her address or phone number before I left last night. I growl in frustration, unleashing a devastating left-right-left punch combo that knocks the bag off the chain. It hits the ground with a heavy thump, and I hear a soft gasp behind me.

  I spin around, already knowing it’s her. There’s no real way to know just from a gasp, but I know.

  She’s standing at the open garage door, her eyes roaming up and down my body. I’m just wearing gym shorts, and I’m covered in sweat, but there’s no mistaking the lust in her gaze. She licks her lips, and my cock—already at half-mast just from seeing her—hardens even more and presses against the front of my shorts, throbbing angrily.