Free Submission Moves: An MMA Romance by Camilla Sisco

little to what essentially was just some harmless flirting on his part.
    “I plan on seducing you, not extorting sexual favors from you,” he said in a low voice. “Where’s the fun in that?” He was grinning at her now, playful and sexy.
    Holy shit.
    Her brain picked that moment to dredge up flashbacks of how eager she’d been in his arms, of Nick looking down at her with half-lidded eyes and parted lips while she knelt in front of him and…Rose felt a tingle shoot down her legs, making her toes curl. She needed to get away from him before she lost it completely and flung herself across the table into his arms.
    Those arms! Those were not the same arms she’d once shamelessly clung to. Nick had changed a lot in four years. His body was bigger and more solid-looking. Rose knew he also hid a second tattoo underneath his shirt. She’d seen it on TV. He was more rugged now, more manly, with about a week’s growth of beard darkening his jaw. He wore his hair a little longer. Unruly locks curled around his ears and on his forehead, not quite long enough to hide his eyes. His smile was the same as it had been before, heart-stopping.
    This was so wrong. She couldn’t get hung up about him all over again, not when it took such a long time to get over him the first time around. If she really was over him, that is. Her therapist told her it was completely normal to fixate on the man responsible for her first taste of sexual pleasure. Completely normal, she’d said, that one look at his face and body, even through a TV screen, could make all those feelings come rushing back. She’d been conditioned. She was like Pavlov’s dog. But her therapist could never give her an adequate answer as to why she had never been able to duplicate those feelings for anyone else. God help her, she didn’t want to be like any of those women who wasted away longing for and lusting after men who were bad for them. Rose was smarter than that. She was better than that! Nick Rossi was like crack. He would bring her nothing but trouble.
    “Good night, Nick.” She got up and turned, not bothering to wait for a reply, not bothering to say goodbye to her dad or brother either. She made her way to the front door with slightly trembling legs, half-hoping he wasn’t watching, the other half hoping he was and that he’d call out to her and stop her from leaving.     

CHAPTER 9

    This had to be the most hopeless bunch of attendees Rose had ever come across in the three years that they’d been facilitating these sexual harassment prevention workshops. She was used to mild-mannered middle managers and even the occasional sexist ones, relics from a previous, less enlightened generation. Most came in skeptical but willing to keep an open mind. Some didn’t particularly care about fostering a women-friendly work environment and just wanted to cover their behinds from potential lawsuits.
    These fighters and their entourage were a different breed altogether. Rose was practically choking from the testosterone in the air. The conference room was packed with the members of the Grayson-Rossi Training Camp, and the various coaches, trainers, and sparring partners that worked in the Rossi Combat Sports Gym, all dressed in their sporty best or in T-shirts and caps printed with skulls or weird tribal designs and illegible writing.  
    Rose had seen all the Grayson-Rossi fighters on TV. She’d watched most of their fights and was familiar with their stats. They were an intimidating group with their muscles and collective black belts in various disciplines. But only one person in the room unnerved her.  
    Nick was alone in the front row, dressed pretty much the same way he had been when they met at Bar None. Worn jeans, black tee that fit snugly on his biceps and across his shoulders. He sat on a chair that was much too small for his frame, long legs outstretched. He never took his eyes off her. She tried not to look but when she did, there he was watching her