Alex (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel Book 9)

by Lane Hart

  “Uh-huh,” I mutter.

  “Well, I wanted to sort of return the favor.”

  Raising my eyebrows to show I’m still lost, I wave my hand at him in a gesture that says to keep going.

  “I wanted to show you that I’m different from those other guys, that I could date you without sleeping with you right away.”

  “That’s…sweet, I suppose,” I tell him. “But I took your clothes off because I want you to fuck me.”

  “See, that’s not helping,” Alex points out, resting his hands on his hips and accentuating those sexy pelvic indentions. “And if we were to fuck tonight, how do I know you wouldn’t sneak out without a word like the last time you slept over?”

  “Dude,” I say in frustration. “I thought you had a dick between your legs and not a vagina.”

  Barking out a laugh, he says, “Emasculating me won’t get you laid any faster.”

  “Fine,” I grumble. “So what is it going to take for you to put your D in my P for fuck’s sake?”

  That causes him to smile in that adorable way that makes me forget why I was annoyed with him.

  “Well, I guess we should get to know each other better.”

  “How much better?” I ask hesitantly. “Because in case you forgot, I recruited you at Havoc because I wanted to knock boots.” For emphasis, I raise my booted feet in the air and slap the leather against each other.

  Finally removing his shoes and pants, but keeping on his green boxer briefs, Alex crawls back on the bed with a smug grin. As he stretches out beside me, he asks, “You wanted to knock boots, or you wanted to get off?”

  “Both,” I answer. “But mostly the second one.”

  “And haven’t I held up my end of that bargain?” His warm palm moves to the inside of my thigh and eases its way up.

  “Yes,” I agree breathlessly, laying my head back down on the pillow when his fingertips graze over my pussy lips. “But what about you?” I ask, eyeing the bulge at the front of his boxer briefs. “All you’ve had is a ha-hand-job.” I stutter over my words when his thick fingers prod my entrance.

  “Nothing wrong with hands, right?” Alex asks, leaning over to slip his tongue between my lips at the same time his fingers penetrate me. “I mean, mouths are better, but I wouldn’t complain about getting jerked off or dry humping until I come.”

  Grabbing a handful of his hair, I pull his mouth to mine and kiss him hard while he gets me all worked up with the pushing and shoving, in and out motion I’m desperate for.

  “Mmm. Mmmm,” I moan urgently into his mouth as the tension gathers in my lower body. Right before I come, Alex removes his hand, making me whimper in need.

  “Please fuck me,” I beg, rolling to my side and throwing a leg over top of his hip to get closer to his cock that still covered by cotton.

  “No,” is his calm, one-word response.

  “No?” I exclaim.

  “How else can I make sure you keep coming back to me for more unless I withhold?” he asks, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “And to prove to you I’m not like those other assholes; I’ll withhold sex until my cock swells up like a volcano about to erupt because for once in my life, how you feel about me is more important than getting my dick wet.”

  Touched more than I’ll ever admit to him by his declaration, I decide to lighten the mood by reaching down to stroke his steel shaft through the thin cotton. “Handies and blowies are still on the table though, right?” I ask while giving him a squeeze.

  “Well, yeah. I’m a man, not a saint,” Alex says right away, his hips thrusting into my grip before he rolls to his back and pulls me on top of him. With my legs straddling his hips, his thick bulge is hitting all the right spots. “Dry humping is also permitted, so rub that pussy on me until we both come,” he instructs.

  Already halfway there, I kiss him while grinding on his covered dick. The cotton material is without a doubt soaking up the dampness from my wetness.

  “That feels so fucking good,” Alex whispers against my lips. His hands are clenching both of my ass cheeks, pressing me down on him even harder.

  “It would feel even better…if you were inside me,” I tell him through panting breaths.

  “Shut up,” he replies, followed by a slap to my ass.

  That’s all it takes to push me over the edge.

  I’ve never been so turned on in my life, and we’re not even having actual sex.

  I come all over his junk while trying to count stars.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alex

  I’ve been with plenty of women in my twenty-four years, and I’ve never, not even as a teenager, blew a load in my boxer briefs until tonight.

  How could I not with a sexy, naked except for her boots, woman dry humping me like her life depended on it?

  Whitney is so hot, and I love never knowing what crazy shit is going to come out of her mouth.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll get off you,” she says from where her head is resting on my chest, our sweaty bodies plastered together.

  “Take all the time you need,” I tell her since I’m gonna have to shower regardless thanks to the mess we made. While she’s on top of me, I palm her bubbly ass just because I can. “Your body is fucking amazing; you know that?”

  “Umm,” is her mumbled response. “I’m short with chubby thighs and am just lucky enough to be blessed with somewhat big boobs.”

  “You are perfectly proportioned,” I assure her, smoothing my hands up her sides. “And the only thing chubby in this bed is my cock.”

  That makes her giggle. And I love that happy, tinkling sound so much that I tickle her waist to try and hear it again.

  “Ah! Stop that!” Whitney exclaims as she squirms on top of me the best possible way. I hold her down on me with one arm so she can’t get away. “Stooooppp!”

  “Never,” I declare.

  When she starts hyperventilating from the laughter, I finally let her go. She rolls off of me and flops on her back beside me. And, damn, do I miss her sexy body on mine.

  “You’re an ass,” she says with a smile still on her face.

  “And you’re extremely ticklish. Good to know,” I tell her with a poke to her side before I climb out of bed to dispose of my wet boxer briefs. “You gonna be okay while I grab a shower?” I ask.

  “Sure,” Whitney replies around a yawn as she reaches down to unzip one boot and then the other to remove them. “Can I borrow a t-shirt?”

  “Yeah, help yourself to any in the top drawer,” I say, pointing to the dresser before I head for the bathroom.

  “Thanks.”

  The entire time I’m washing there’s an enormous grin stretching my face. I haven’t had sex with Whitney, there are only two hundred dollars in my wallet after paying rent and utilities for the month, and I’m deliriously fucking happy.

  If you had told me seven months ago that I could live without sex or money, I wouldn’t have believed it. I guess I owe my dad for forcing me into this alternate life experiment of his since he was right. It hasn’t been all peaches and cream, but being with the girl who is likely already asleep in my bed was worth enduring poverty and a shit job for a few months.

  Once I’m dry, I pull on some clean underwear to make spooning with the mostly naked woman a little easier and climb in bed. Whitney is sound asleep curled up on her side; her hands tucked sweetly under her head. I pull the covers up over us and then belatedly realize that the light is still on.

  I take a few more minutes just to watch her sleep before I get up to turn it off, noticing the splattering of freckles across her cheeks for the first time. They make her look even younger. Sweeter.

  …

  Whitney

  I wake up starving. My stomach feels empty and hollow. Then I remember the night before at the restaurant and the reason I didn’t have any dinner.

  God, is there an end to the embarrassment when it comes to being with Alex?

  Tonight he didn’t fall asleep on top of me.
Instead, he’s spooning against my backside, so my escape to find leftovers in the kitchen should be much easier. Slowly and gently, I lift his arm and slide it over my hip and behind me. Just as I throw my legs over the side of the bed, the arm returns, this time grabbing my waist tightly to pull me back down against the front of his body. And it won’t budge when I try to remove it again.

  “Stay,” Alex murmurs softly.

  Unsure if he’s sleeping or awake, I whisper in the silent room, “I’m just going to get something to eat.”

  That’s when his stomach rumbles louder than mine.

  “Me too,” he says, his voice still husky from sleep but sounding more awake.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” I tell him as he releases his hold on me so I can get up.

  Dressed only in his long t-shirt and panties, I tiptoe to the kitchen. Everything important is covered up, and it’s late, so I doubt Luke will be lurking around this time of night.

  Opening the fridge, I wince away from the light inside until my eyes adjust, and then I realize how bare the shelves are. Wow, what do these fighters eat to stay so buff? Spotting the bag from Anton’s, I pull it out and set it on the counter right as Alex appears in the kitchen, hair a mess, eyes squinting, in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs.

  “I’ll trade you my steak for salmon?” I offer hopefully. I don’t want to touch the steak again after it tried its best to choke me.

  “Deal,” he agrees.

  Alex grabs two plates from a cabinet, and then the two of us pile them with food and heat them up in the microwave.

  While the food is cooling, I reach for the light switch. “Ready?” I ask before I flip it on.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Alex agrees. Once he slaps his palm over his eyes I hit it.

  Finding the two stools at the counter, I climb up on one to start digging in. A moment later Alex joins me, offering me a bottle of water to wash it down. The two of us eat in companionable silence other than occasional “mmms.”

  I clear my plate of veggies and salmon, but I’m still hungry.

  “Got anything for dessert, or do you fighters abstain?” I ask Alex.

  “Usually we abstain,” he answers. “But there’s a slice of cheesecake for you in the bag.”

  “Yay!” I throw my arms up and exclaim softly in celebration before kissing his cheek. “You sure do know the way to a woman’s heart.”

  “Uh-huh,” he mutters. “Right through…here,” he says, cupping my left breast through the cotton shirt.

  Swatting his hand away, I tell him, “No more of that until the cheesecake is gone.”

  With a chuckle, Alex cleans up the kitchen while I devour the best slice of New York style cheesecake ever. It’s so heavenly delicious and sweet of him to get it for me without even asking for it that I feel all sorts of grateful. Like this deserves the on-your-knees show of gratitude.

  “Ready to go back to bed?” Alex asks after I throw my plate away.

  “Ready for me to give you head?” I counter as I salaciously lick my fork clean.

  He stares at me silently for a moment before he jerks the fork out of my hand, tosses it into the sink and then picks me up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” I giggle as I watch the hallway floor pass by. “And did I mention that you could get it any way you want it?”

  His groan is the only response before the bedroom light flicks on and I get tossed onto the bed so hard I bounce.

  “Get naked,” he orders.

  Sitting up in the middle of the bed, I shimmy my panties down my legs and pull the shirt off as I watch Alex quickly discard his boxer briefs. He climbs up on the bed and stretches out on his back beside me.

  “Sideways, so I can watch you get yourself off,” he declares.

  “Coming right up,” I tell him with a smile as I get into position, leaning over his thick, leaking cock to wrap my fist around it and take the tip into my mouth. I lick up the salty flavor, and more instantly takes its place.

  “Please…” Alex grunts as his hips lift off the mattress. “Play with your pussy.”

  Normally, I would feel embarrassed touching myself in front of another person, but the heat and need for me in Alex’s silvery green eyes is so intense that I overcome it. I slip my free hand down my stomach and to my slit. The touch of my fingertips to my clit makes me moan around my mouthful as I refuse to quit sucking his dick for even a second. I like making him groan, seeing him squirm and fight the urge to come in my mouth. Despite how hard his body tenses to try and stop it, it’s no use. With a string of curses, he lets go, and I take everything he gives me.

  The sight of his sculpted body trembling, the sounds he makes and his taste is all too much. My own orgasm is ripped from me. The pleasurable waves take me under, and I don’t even want to try to find my way back to the surface.

  Eventually, the blissful high subsides, and I start to float back down.

  My limbs are still weak when Alex drags me up the length of his body and pulls the covers over top of us.

  “Don’t even try to sneak out in the morning,” Alex tells me as he wraps his arms around me tightly.

  “I won’t,” I promise, because I already know that I’m not gonna want to ever leave.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Whitney

  “How’s your wine?” Kenneth asks me while we sit on stools in the hotel bar, waiting for our table.

  “It’s great,” I assure him with a smile.

  Since he usually makes reservations days in advance and slips the hostess a hundred when we walk in restaurants, I’m surprised by the delay. Maybe he’s just using the wait as an excuse to try and pour more drinks into me. I’m on my second glass now. By the time we order, and our food comes, I’ll likely have two more and then another with dessert.

  Leaning closer and placing his palm on top of my thigh at the hem of my purple sweater dress, he asks, “Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?”

  “No, but thank you,” I reply, using all the willpower I possess not to reach down and knock his hand away.

  Avoiding his piercing blue eyes, I glance around at the other tables, incredibly jealous of the women who are here with men of their own choosing.

  “You know, I have to say that I’m surprised you haven’t brought up your father’s dire circumstances yet, and this is what, our eighth date?” Kenneth asks, causing my head to whip around toward him so fast I nearly give myself whiplash.

  “Of course I haven’t mentioned the five-million-dollar investment loan my dad needs yet. That’s at least a tenth date subject to broach, right?” I joke, trying to force out a laugh; but when I fail, I decide just to throw back the rest of my wine.

  “I would be happy to help him,” Kenneth says with a smug smile.

  “You would?” I ask in surprise. Wow, that was so much easier than I expected.

  “Certainly,” he replies. “On one small condition. Well, two actually.”

  Dammit. I figured there would be conditions.

  “Okay, what would they be?” I ask, bracing myself for his response.

  “I want you to agree to come away with me,” he says simply.

  Swallowing down the bile when it tries to break free, I ask, “Away where?”

  Shrugging in his custom-made suit jacket, he tells me, “Anywhere, everywhere for, say, two, maybe three months? We can travel the world. See whatever you want to see.”

  “You know, I think I’ve sort of seen it all,” I say in a rush. “Couldn’t we just stay here?”

  “No,” he replies with a shake of his head. “I want you to go away with me so that we can spend time alone together, time for you to give me a fair chance to see if we could be more than friends. In exchange, I’ll help your father. That’s my offer.”

  Wow, could I give up that many weeks of my life to save my dad’s business, along with his health? Two or three months doesn’t seem like very long. Would Alex wait for me
if I told him how important this deal is? Things are so new and good between us, but I just don’t know if that’s something he would agree to do.

  “You can take a few days to think about it,” Kenneth says, noticing my hesitancy.

  “When, I mean, when would we leave?” I ask.

  “As soon as all the paperwork is finalized for my investment in Merchant Industries. We’ll stay at the most lavish hotels, eat the finest meals. You’ll be spoiled,” he tells me.

  “Would we, you know --- do I have to stay in the same hotel room as you?”

  Chuckling he says, “No, of course not. You’ll have your own room as long as you would like, although I hope to change your mind before we come home.”

  That sounds reasonable, and I’ve never gotten a creepy vibe from the man next to me. If he says he doesn’t expect anything relationship wise, then he probably doesn’t. It’ll be like going on vacation with a friend, nothing more.

  …

  Alex

  “Hey, Alex!” Jude calls out to me from the cage when I walk into Havoc, so I wander over his way.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I ask as he comes down the cage stairs and grabs a towel from a nearby rack to start soaking up his sweat.

  “Coach Briggs called looking for you the other day,” he tells me. “I didn’t have your new number, so I didn’t know how to reach you. Where have you been?”

  “Ugh, I’ve been working,” I admit. “Did Coach say what it’s about?” I ask, hoping it’s good news from the IFC.

  “Nope, but you can use the phone in my office to call him back if you want,” Jude offers.

  “Great, thanks! I’ll go call him now,” I say, quickly heading in that direction.

  Of course, I know the Maryland Havoc’s number by heart since I’ve been training there for so long. Coach Briggs answers after a few rings.

  “Hey, Coach. It’s Alex. What’s going on?” I ask, taking a seat in Jude’s rolling chair.

  “Alex, good to hear from you. How’s NC treating you?”

  He’s stalling, so I take it that he doesn’t have good news.