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Senn (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel Book 5)

Page 5

by Lane Hart


  “Yeah, I know,” he says, palming my bump that seems to get bigger each day.

  “Last night,” I clarify. “Twice.”

  “Okay,” he replies. Tossing his hat out of the way, he grabs for the back of my head without even a pause, and then his tongue is tangling with mine.

  Pulling back to break the kiss, I repeat, “Okay?”

  “Does that mean I can’t keep kissing you? Because you fucked him? Are you and him together?” he asks, blue eyes soft and understanding.

  “No. I just…I wasn’t sure…Are you…?”

  “Fucking other girls? No,” he answers without even blinking. “And you know I won’t.”

  “But that’s not very fair,” I point out, tugging on the front of his shirt.

  He chuckles sadly. “Life isn’t fucking fair. And you and I know that better than most. I like being with you…for however long we have. I get that there might be an expiration date, but I’m trying to be optimistic and not think about that shit. The glass has unlimited refills or whatever.” He kisses my cheek and then my jaw, brushing his scruffy, unshaved chin over the soft skin. “You have enough to worry about, so don’t waste time worrying about me, all right?”

  “You sure?” I ask. This incredible man must have flaws, but I have yet to find a single one.

  Luke slouches down lower on the sofa, just enough that I shift forward to feel his steel length bulging up from between my spread thighs. “Would you feel less guilty if I only think with my cock like Senn from now on?” he asks. His hands circle my waist, holding me down when he thrusts his hips up into me a few teasing times, making me laugh. “Abby, I know you two have shit to work through. You’re having his baby. So whatever happens, happens. But I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to. Even when you don’t feel like being touched, I’ll still be here for you.”

  I try to hold them back, but a stupid tear slips down my cheek. Luke quickly wipes it away. “Can I kiss you now?” he asks, and I nod since I don’t want to think anymore. Being with Senn last night was a fluke. I was just depressed about Linc getting married, and Senn was just horny like always. Nothing more. If he gave a shit about me, I wouldn’t have been a one-night stand all those months ago.

  Relaxing into Luke’s arms, I lose myself in our kiss that pauses long enough for his shirt to lift over his head and then my Shake Your Coconuts pajama tank top to come off, leaving me naked from the waist up.

  “I missed you, girls,” Luke says, making me laugh when he cups the flopsy twins, one in each hand, before he lowers his mouth to kiss them both in greeting. His admiration of my breasts has me thinking of what Senn said about my vagina. Another laugh bubbles up out of me.

  “What?” he asks, squeezing the girls together and licking a path down my cleavage.

  “Senn proclaimed his love to my pussy last night,” I tell him. Luke and I seriously tell each other everything. I guess that sort of makes him my best friend who I like to make out with.

  “Aw,” Luke grumbles. “He’s a lucky man. I’m halfway to loving your pussy, and my cock and tongue haven’t even been in it yet.” Shoving his hand down the front of my cotton pajama shorts and panties, he watches my face as his fingers stroke my pussy. “I love having my fingers in your pussy.” I gasp and sit up on my knees when he hits the spot. The one that sends pleasurable tingles all through my body.

  Holding onto his muscular shoulders, I tremble through my release before slumping against his smooth chest, completely spent. “Mmm,” I sigh in contentment, right when there’s a knock on the door.

  “You order food?” Luke asks.

  “Not yet,” I reply.

  “Then let me get it,” he says. Lifting my fat ass off of him like I’m light as a feather, he sits me on the sofa cushion beside him. When he stands up, his spine straightens and shoulders square to make him seem even bigger. It’s cute when he’s in protector mode. The random thought that he’ll make a great father someday crosses my mind.

  Since the sofa is against the wall facing the door, I quickly pull on my shirt, so I don’t flash whoever it is. It’s Sunday, which means it’s probably religious nuts coming to tell me what a dirty little sinner I am. Tell me something I don’t know.

  …

  Senn

  When Abby’s apartment door opens, I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting to see Luke Campbell, one of Havoc’s rookie fighters, standing shirtless on the other side. Had she moved over the last few months? And, wow, I’ve never noticed it before now, but Luke looks just like a younger version of Linc…

  The fucker’s eyes widen in surprise a second before he smirks at me. That’s when I realize exactly what’s going on.

  Abby’s fucking him.

  “Senn!” Luke exclaims in greeting, and then glances over his shoulder into the apartment before his humor-filled eyes come back to mine. “What’s up?”

  So, there are two ways I can handle this --- the mature way or the hotheaded fighter way. Since I’m gonna be a father soon, I’ll try the mature way. Try being the keyword.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask, and realize how stupid the question is as soon as the words leave my mouth. The plastic bag in my left hand crunches when my fist grips it tighter.

  “What does it look like I’m doing here?” he replies, grinning even bigger when he reaches down to adjust his cock through his black nylon shorts.

  My right fist plows into his jaw before my brain even knows that my arm made a unilateral decision to knock the smile off of his face.

  I hear Abby’s shriek before I spot her coming off the couch. She quickly kneels down next to the snoozing boy on the floor. Her face is flushed and hair is in a braid but with pieces loose like she just got fucked. It was only this morning when she woke up in my bed the same way!

  Based on the gentle, familiar way she touches the douche’s cheek and hair, I’m starting to think this isn’t the first time he’s been over to her house. Not sure why I’m surprised. I may be a dickwhore, but she’s a slut. The only difference is that now she’s slutting around with my baby inside of her!

  “Luke? Oh God, are you okay?” she asks frantically.

  When he blinks his eyes open and his hand comes up to stroke his sore jaw, I feel a tiny bit of relief knowing he probably hasn’t sustained permanent brain damage from my hit. I wanted to teach him a lesson, not murder him. Anger is still pulsing through my veins, though, so we may not be finished yet.

  “What the fuck, Abby?” I ask. “Are you babysitting for his mommy to get some practice? Tell me you haven’t been fucking a boy!”

  “He’s nineteen!” She stands up to shout at me. “And why did you hit him? It’s none of your business who I fuck!”

  It’s hard to focus on her words after I get distracted by her coconuts. No really. There are giant coconuts on her shirt placed perfectly over her luscious titties.

  “Stop staring at my coconuts when I’m talking to you!” she yells.

  “They’re nice coconuts,” the asshole mumbles from behind her. She shoots a glare in his direction that softens when she offers a hand to help him to his feet. Pussy.

  “This,” I say, gesturing between the two of them when I finally remember my argument, “is my business when I was just fucking you bareback last night!”

  My goal had been to not only make a valid point but to incite the asshole. Fucker doesn’t even have the audacity to look surprised by my admission that Abby and I slept together.

  “I’m practically a virgin since I’ve only been with another virgin,” Luke proudly proclaims. I’m pleased by the fact that he has to put a hand on the wall to hold himself steady. “Shouldn’t you be the one we worry about getting STDs from?” he asks.

  I lunge for him; but as soon as Abby steps in front of me, I lower my clenched fists and don’t move forward another inch. God forbid I hurt her or the baby.

  “I need to get you some ice,” Abby says when she sees the swelling on his face. She turns and walks back into the apa
rtment with him on her heels. And since she didn’t dismiss me, I follow them and shut the door because I want answers. In the foyer, I pause a moment to acknowledge the dent in the wall that’s responsible for changing my life. If we’d made it to the bedroom and fucked missionary or doggy style, would Abby have gotten pregnant? Too late to change it now.

  Moving farther into the living room and little eating area, I sit the bag of crackers from the beach store on the table as I look around.

  “This place is too small for a baby,” I declare. My living room is bigger than the entire apartment. After growing up in a tin can, I bought the biggest, most spacious house I could comfortably afford several years ago. Do I need a big ass house? No, but I’ll be damned if I live in a cramped trailer again.

  “There’s plenty of room here,” Abby says without looking up from the sink where she’s filling a plastic sandwich bag with ice.

  “Have you bought any baby shit yet?” I ask since I’m surprised when I don’t see anything. Some sort of look passes between Abby over her shoulder and Luke on the sofa. I really don’t fucking like it.

  “Not yet. It’s bad luck to buy anything before the second trimester,” she eventually answers, like I know what the fuck a trimester is.

  Walking back through to the living room, Abby climbs up beside Luke, sitting on her knees to hold the bag over his cheek. She may have bitch tendencies, but I actually think she’ll be a pretty good mother. I mean, she can’t be worse than mine. No one can be that bad at caring, nurturing, or otherwise giving a shit about their child.

  Glancing around, I see a haphazardly tossed black tee on the floor that I know without looking has a red Havoc logo on it. The simple sight makes me want to go Hulk smash all over the fucking building. My home for the first time in my life, the place and people I love, and another one of the fuckers there is banging Abby. Hell, she might’ve fucked half of my teammates by now for all I know. She has been coming around the place a lot more lately. I thought it was to flirt with Linc, but now I know it was more than that.

  “Why are you still here?” Abby asks when I continue lingering with a death hold on my hair.

  Well, fuck if I know.

  “How are we gonna do this?” I ask after I chicken out on the question of her and the asshole’s relationship status.

  “Do what?” she replies, tending to Luke’s face while his amused eyes follow our conversation back and forth like a tennis match, the stupid smile still stretched across his face. I really want to try to knock that mocking smirk off again with my fist.

  “The, um, baby thing,” I tell her, not happy about having this conversation with an interloper. I mean, it’s not like he doesn’t know she’s pregnant. And he didn’t act surprised to find out it’s mine. What is his deal with her? How long have they been fucking or whatever they’re doing? Is he her boyfriend?

  “I-I just wanted you to know it’s yours,” she says on a sigh. “I never expected anything from you.”

  My chest constricts, and my throat starts to burn. What the fuck do I even say to that, and why do her words hurt so damn much?

  “Abby, I’ve got plenty of money,” I tell her, leaning my back against the foyer wall, also known as the scene of the crime, to try and look casual when inside I’m feeling anything but.

  “Good for you. I’ve got plenty of money, too,” she says right away without even sparing a glance in my direction. “I don’t want or need yours.”

  Why does a woman telling me she doesn’t want my money to raise our child piss me off? I mean, it seriously pisses me the fuck off. It’s the least I can do since this is half my fault. Probably more than half.

  So, if she doesn’t want or need anything from me, where exactly does that leave us? Shared custody? Weekend visits?

  Wait.

  “Are you even gonna let me see her?” I ask.

  “Why would you want to?” she says when she finally looks over her shoulder at me with a blank look on her face. A look that tells me that she honestly doesn’t think there’s a single reason for me to be around my own daughter. Like I’m such a piece of shit that she can’t comprehend why I would bother asking to be even a small part of her life.

  “Abby—” Luke says her name as an admonishment because apparently even he thinks that was a below the belt hit.

  Her words are so cold that the room momentarily blurs and I have to clench my teeth when I come real close to pussying out and actually shedding a tear in front of her and the boy she’s fucking. I could call her a bitch and explain what I want, not that I really know what the hell that is myself. Or I could do I what I do best, take the easy way out, jump ship from the escape hatch she’s offered and go right back to my bachelor life with zero accountability for anyone but myself.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” I throw out before I yank open the apartment door. “Otherwise, good luck.”

  I don’t wipe the wetness from my face until my truck drives out of the parking lot. For the first time in my life I try to man up, do the right thing, take responsibility and shit, only to be told I don’t have anything to offer. It’s the truth, which is maybe why it hurts so much. And what’s with the stupid waterworks? Why do I miss someone I haven’t even met? I never wanted to be a father, so she’ll probably be better off without me anyways.

  I can’t shake this nagging feeling that I’m forgetting something, like I left a part of myself back at Abby’s apartment. The most gut-wrenching, depressing part of that sensation is that I’m pretty sure that I’ll never get a chance to hold that little piece of me, but I’ll always remember the emptiness from where it’s missing.

  …

  Abby

  “What was that about, Abby?” Luke asks as soon as Senn walks out the door.

  “I changed my mind,” I tell him with a shrug, using the back of my hands to wipe away the tears. On the way home from the beach, I had a lot of time to think about the future and what I should do about the no-win situation that won’t be slowing down anytime soon. It was like the answer had been flashing in neon signs all weekend, and I had been too blinded by jealousy to see it. I should’ve known. It’s always been Linc.

  “You’re not gonna have the baby?” Luke asks. There’s no judgment in his question, only what sounds like a hint of relief.

  “No, I am definitely having the baby,” I clarify. There’s never been a doubt about that.

  “So, what do you mean?” he asks.

  “Can we not talk about this right now?” I reply, climbing on his lap to get back to where we left off before Senn interrupted. “Is your jaw okay?” I can’t help but wince just imagining how bad that hit must’ve felt.

  “I’m fine. You know I’m just worried about you, angel,” he replies, brushing the hair from my face. “I can’t imagine how tough this decision has been. You’re so damn brave.”

  “It hasn’t been tough,” I reply honestly. “Now I’m more certain than ever that I’m making the right decision. She’s gonna have a family who loves her, no matter what.”

  “Is your family still giving you the silent treatment?” he asks while kissing his way down my neck.

  “Yes, except for my sister, but they dumped a hundred thousand into my trust fund last Friday. Maybe that’s my father’s olive branch since money is the only form of communication he really knows.”

  “They’ll come around,” he says against my ear. “If not, you know you tried, and that they’ll always regret it.”

  I nod my agreement.

  “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”

  “Two weeks from tomorrow at eleven. Another ultrasound,” I answer while reaching down to stroke his cock through his thin shorts to make him stop talking about all this depressing shit. I feel his breath rush out of his lungs before he groans. Tonight won’t be his lucky night, but I’ll still make him feel good. It’s the least I can do after he took a punch to the face because of me and helped me keep my mind off the future for a few hours.

&nb
sp; Chapter Seven

  Senn

  Over the past several days, I’ve kept myself too busy to think about anything to do with Abby or being fatherhoodwinked. That’s a word, right? If not, it should be added to Urban Dictionary with my picture next to it. Fatherhoodwinked: adjective - To be told of an impending paternity, begin to get comfortable with it, only to have it yanked right the fuck out from underneath you.

  With angry rap music blaring in my ears, I’ve been spending my days grappling with Nate and giving Mace beatings while taking whatever he dishes out to help him prepare for his very first IFC fight. The kid is getting better. A lot better based on how fast he won last night’s fight.

  From his sullen, doomsday expression, it’s obvious now that we’re flying back from Vegas that he has a chip on his shoulder. If I had to guess, I would say his chip is named Hailey. After Abby pointed it out, I’m not sure how I didn’t notice that the two of them were together sooner. Now, I can’t say I was all that surprised to hear Mace and Hailey got hitched, or that Mace has already screwed up and is in the dog house.

  Sitting next to me in first class thanks to his new IFC contract, his knee hasn’t stopped bouncing and he hasn’t quit spinning the white gold wedding band around his finger since we boarded.

  “You’re not gonna try and jump out without a parachute, are you?” I ask him, only partially teasing.

  “If we go near New York, it’s a definite possibility,” he replies, deadpan. “We’re cool, right?” he asks, turning slightly in his seat to face me.

  “Yeah, we’re cool,” I assure him. Who am I to call foul for someone breaking the bro code? “As long as you don’t ever hurt Hailey again like you did when you made out with the ring girl,” I add.

  “Never,” he says. “Never intentionally.”

  “You two okay now?” I ask.

  “Not even close,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “But I’m not giving up on her. What about you and your baby daddy issues?”

  “Abby doesn’t want me in my daughter’s life,” I confess the shitty truth because I need to get it out of my system and I can’t tell my best friend. Linc is perfect daddy material in Abby’s eyes while I’m nothing but gutter trash.

 

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