Hook (Fighter Romance) (Las Vegas Series #1)

by Marie York

  I grabbed my keys and turned back to her. “Either way, she’s checking in on you, so I suggest you stay put and get your damn homework done.”

  “Or what?”

  I hated when she counteracted me. Because I said so didn’t have the same effect as it did when she was younger. So, now, whenever she questioned my authority, I needed to come back with something that would put a little fear into her.

  She stood up and straightened to her full five-four. It was ridiculously hard to be intimidating to someone who towered over you, but I knew she was all bark and no bite.

  “Well, there is that picture of you laying in your own vomit. I’m sure your friends would love it if I posted it to your profile.” I took the picture the first time she got drunk, or at least the first time I caught her. She was so wasted she fell asleep in her own puke in the bathroom. I didn’t take it so I could have blackmail ammunition. I took it to show her what she did to herself, and how she should never do that again.

  “You wouldn’t,” she snarled, getting up into my face.

  “Try me,” I spat.

  Her lip lifted into a smirk. “It’s funny how you try to act like Mom. You think you’re so smart. Think you can blackmail me. News flash: you’re a fucking high school dropout who takes her clothes off for a living. Mom and Dad are probably rolling over in their graves at the pathetic whore you turned out to be.”

  Her words struck a chord. Anger and embarrassment knotted together into a mess of heated emotion. My hand flung back, and I slapped her as hard as I could, my patience now completely gone.

  She gasped at the impact, her own hands moving to the spot on her cheek that was glowing red with my fingerprints. “You fucking bitch!” she screeched.

  My eyes widened at the realization of what I just did. Words sputtered into a million sounds as I tried to say something, but nothing other than incomprehensible noises came out.

  Mackenzie grabbed her bag, and a pair of pants, and took off into the night. And, for the first time ever, I didn’t try to stop her.

  “ ***

  I just finished up on stage and headed to the back, picking up my top as I went. Ariana, the wife to the owner of the Honey Pot, and the closest thing to a friend I had, walked over to me and rested a hand on my shoulder. “Christian is here, and has asked for you personally,” she said, her brown eyes focusing on mine. “But, if you’re not up to it, I can send in another girl. He’s pretty fucked up, so I doubt he’d notice.”

  Ariana was in her mid-fifties and, beneath the Botox and makeup, you could almost see the gorgeous girl she once was. Now, no matter how much makeup she used or how much cosmetic surgery she had, she just looked tired. I’d be tired too if my husband slept with anything with a mouth and tits.

  Then again, I was only twenty-four and I was already exhausted. I lived on coffee just to get me through most days.

  “It’s fine,” I assured her. I sat down in front of the lone mirror where all the girls touched up before heading on stage and fixed my lipstick. I pushed my lips together and smiled to make sure I didn’t have any on my teeth.

  “You okay, sugar? You’re looking a little gloomy tonight.”

  I pulled my top back on, making sure to push my tits up as high as I could. “I was fighting with Mackenzie before I left. Nothing new.”

  “Oh sweetie, don’t take it to heart. She’s a teenager. It’s what they do.”

  I shrugged. “I know, but I can’t help it.”

  “That’s because you’re a good person and a damn good sister. One day, she’ll realize that.”

  “Yeah, when hell freezes over.” I caught her gaze in the mirror, and we both laughed. “I guess I should head in there. Don’t want to keep Mr. Bates waiting.”

  “I’m going to send Carmine with you. I know you say he’s harmless, but I don’t trust that sick bastard.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  “Carmine!” Ariana called out.

  A second later, Carmine walked in. His huge frame barely fit through the doorway, but I knew he was just a big teddy bear… unless he was provoked. Then, he was the most deadly beast around. You did not want to piss Carmine off. And I felt safe when he was around.

  “You called,” he said, his voice deep and burly.

  “Yes. Please escort Mila to the back room, and don’t leave her sight.”

  He nodded and waited for me.

  “Got to go make that money, honey,” I said to Ariana with a wink. I walked by Carmine and patted his massive chest. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” He didn’t say anything, just followed closely behind.

  I pushed into the backroom, and Carmine slipped in, taking his post in the corner. Christian Bates lounged on the black leather couch. I could see he was already excited and swallowed down the disgust, remembering one lap dance with him would help me pay back Knox.

  Christian Bates had become a regular, and I knew exactly what he wanted. I strutted toward him, running my hands up and down my body. I stepped in front of him, then spun around. I bent over, touching my toes, and letting him get a peek of my thong beneath the plaid skirt. I reached down and ran my hands up my leg.

  The leather creaked as he shifted to get a better view. “Mmm, a white thong, my favorite.” He pushed a finger up into the material of my skirt and I backed away. And so it starts. He tries to touch and I playfully fend him off.

  Carmine stepped off the wall, and I held a hand up to ward him off. I stood straight up, ran my hands over my tits, and got to my knees. I crawled to him, and pushed his legs apart. “Now, you know this is a no touch zone. Put those hands where I can see them,” I cooed.

  He smiled, then lifted his hands and rested them behind his head. Tonight felt different from usual. There was a look in his eyes that was more feral and hungry than I had ever seen before. I attributed it to whatever alcohol or drugs he had consumed and shook off the feeling of fear. I needed to keep the mood light and playful in order to earn my tip.

  I rested a hand on either side of his head, and let my body sink toward his. “Good boy,” I said, as I lifted a leg and slid down the length of him. He continued his intense visual assault, so I closed my eyes, and imagined there was someone else beneath me. It made it easier when I had to deal with clients I detested.

  Knox’s face immediately came to mind, and I let the thought of him relax me. I barely knew him, but I had never felt so comfortable being alone with a guy back here as I did when I was with him. I trusted him completely, and he didn’t disappoint.

  I dragged my finger tips along Christian’s thigh then ran my hands back down. I began to stand and let my head fall forward, pushing my tits into him before pulling back. I stood up and turned my hips, rocking my ass from side to side.

  There was a knock at the door and Carmine stuck his head out, talking to someone on the other side.

  A hand grabbed my waist, and I swatted it away. I might have been imagining Knox, but I still knew damn well who was beneath me, and he was not allowed to touch me. He released his grip, and dropped it to his side.

  I went low and got back on my knees, arching my back until my hand touched behind my head. He groaned at the view. I came back up, running my hands over the pigtails. I circled my hips and moved closer to him when his hand snaked out and grabbed me. He yanked me onto the couch and, before I could react, he thrust his finger inside me.

  A terrified gasp fell from my mouth.

  “You like that don’t you, you dirty whore?” he growled into my ear. I heard the sound of his zipper being undone, and I forced my hands into his chest. I went to scream, but he closed his hand around my throat and I was paralyzed by fear. “I expected you’d like it rough.”

  He tightened his grip on my throat cutting off my air supply and ability to scream for help. He got on his knees, releasing his dick. Tears streamed down my face as I twisted and kicked, trying everything in my power to get him off of me before he put his disgusting dick anywhere near me. I was also terrified I
would pass out, or worse, die from a lack of air before someone realized what was going on. I fought with all that I had, flailing whatever limbs I could.

  “What the fuck!” I heard from behind me, and Carmine’s hand shot out, grabbing Christian by the back of the neck. Christian’s hands loosened their grip on me as Carmine’s tightened on him. Carmine threw Christian hard against the floor and punched him in the face.

  I pushed myself up, gathering my legs, and pulling them into my chest. I rocked back and forth and took in huge gulps of air, trying to calm myself down. Tears continued to slide down my face as remembered the feel of his finger sliding into me. I felt nauseous as bile churned in my stomach, threatening to release itself.

  “Mila get out of here,” Carmine demanded.

  My legs shook, as I tried to stand. I felt like a newborn calf taking their first steps. The normally short walk to the door felt like miles. It took every ounce of energy I had to get out of that room. It wasn’t until I was under the brighter lights of the main area that I realized I probably wouldn’t see that extra cash and I admonished myself for even thinking that. That mother fucker just tried to rape me and nearly strangled me to death. I should’ve called the cops and had his ass locked up, but this guy had some powerful people at his beck and call. So I decided I should just let this go and stay away from any future encounters with him.

  “Fuck me,” I uttered as I sat down at the bar and motioned to Tammy, the bartender. “A shot of vodka, please,” I said and rested my elbow on the bar.

  “You okay?” Ariana came up behind me just as Tammy placed the shot in front of me.

  I picked it up and smiled. “No, but I will be.”

  I had to be. This was my life and I didn’t have any other options. I’d give myself tonight to feel the fear, the anger, the disgust, but after that I had to suck it up and push it behind me. Come tomorrow I would be back on that stage earning money the only way I knew how.

  Chapter Nine

  Knox

  My opponent landed a hammerfist right to my eye. Pain radiated through my face, but I just laughed it off. Most people crumpled at pain, but, for me, it fueled the fire. I blinked, trying to bring everything back into focus. He got one hit in on me, and I’d be damned if I let him get another.

  I bounced back, getting in fighting position and mapping out my next move. He came at me and swung, but I blocked him. He tried again, but another block. The bastard got one good hit and, suddenly, he was cocky as shit, thinking he’d be able to take me down.

  A few minutes in, I realized how predictable he was and I knew he didn’t stand a chance against me. I learned early on that predictability was the one thing that could lead to your demise as a fighter. This was the reason I was on top of the fucking world. I never followed a pattern when I fought. Once your opponent figured you out, you were done. I would never fall into that trap. I was notorious for not following a script. My competition never knew what the fuck I was going to do next. Surprise was my best tactic.

  I studied and trained hard. Coach taught me to hone my skills in multiple areas. I was a pro at boxing, karate, Muay Thai, wrestling, kickboxing and whatever else would help me get to the top. Help me be as unpredictable as possible.

  I threw a front leg hook kick and landed it. Stanton stumbled back, but quickly regained his composure. He got back in position, throwing a bunch of fists my way, but I used my hand to keep them from getting anywhere near me.

  I felt like I was sparring with Coach as he stood there doing nothing. I was getting fucking bored.

  “Hit me,” I said, holding my arms open. “Go ahead. Hit me.” I was begging for it, but Stanton must have felt it was a trap because he just bounced back.

  He came back at me and threw a wheel kick, but I saw it coming a mile away and dodged it. I clipped him with a strong straight left and he shook his head as he navigated around me. At this point, I was just going for strikes. Getting them in as much as I could while Stanton pussy-footed around a real fight.

  Finally, he threw something worth going after, but I dodged it got him back with a jab to the nose and took him down. He managed to keep me from posturing up for a few seconds. I overcame him, getting on top, and landed a few hard blows to his face. He used his legs to get me off of him and scrambled back to his feet.

  Blood dripped from a cut on his eye, and I smiled at my handiwork. I got a few more hits in, and Stanton landed one more. Round three ended, and we went to the judges for the final decision, not that I needed them to tell me what I already knew.

  I walked to my side of the cage and finally acknowledged the crowd and my friends who were front row.

  Coach patted my shoulder, and handed me a bottle of water. “Good fight. How’s the eye?”

  “Fine,” I said, and he laughed. “You would say that.” He turned and yelled. “Get him some ice, will ya.”

  “Ice?” I asked.

  “You’re bruising.”

  “Don’t even feel it,” I said with a smile.

  “You’re a sick bastard,” he said, grabbing the ice from someone and pushing it against my eye.

  A few minutes later, we went to the middle of the ring and the ref declared me the winner. A reporter came in, shoving a microphone in my face, and the questions started flying. I soaked up the screams and cheers from the crowd, loving every second of admiration.

  Once it was finally over, I headed back to my house for a celebration party. My sponsor wanted a big bash, and I wanted to be home so we compromised. Julius told me he’d be in charge of the entertainment, so God only knew what I was about to walk into.

  I pushed into the house, and was greeted by more cheers. Girls in tiny black skirts and hot pink tops danced amongst the crowd. I should have known Julius’s idea of entertainment would be strippers.

  “The champion,” Julius said, pushing his way through the throngs of people. He grabbed my hand and raised it high, eliciting more cheers.

  “Damn fucking right I am,” I screamed and high fived everyone as I made my way through the guests.

  I caught sight of a pair of toned legs and, when I brought my eyes up their length, I smiled.

  Mila was grinding against a pole, and I came up behind her. “This looks like my dream from last night,” I said into her ear.

  She startled briefly, but then spun around, not breaking character for a second. Her finger ran down my chest and back up before gently outlining my face. “You’re hurt,” she acknowledged.

  I shook my head. “Marks of a winner, Mila.”

  Surprise filled her beautiful green eyes. “How do you know my name?”

  “Since you wouldn’t tell me, I found it out. I always get what I want.” I stepped toward her, brushing her brown hair away from her eyes. “And I want you.”

  This time, she shook her head. “By the end of the night, I’ll have enough money to pay you back for the groceries and then you’ll never have to see me again.”

  I wrapped my hand around her waist, loving the feel of her soft skin against my hand. “Lucky for you, I don’t want your money.”

  “I don’t take handouts,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Consider it a gift.”

  “I don’t take those either without returning the favor. So, if you’re not going to take my money then that only leaves me with one other option.”

  “And what’s that?”

  A wicked smile tugged at her lips and she held her hand out. “Come with me, and find out.”

  She didn’t have to ask me twice, so I followed her down the hall. She was bringing me toward the bathroom, but I had a better idea. I scooped her up and over my shoulder, resting my hand on her round ass.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Taking control.” She wiggled against me, trying to get me to loosen my grip, but, too bad for her, I had no intention of letting her go. “You’re only making it worse.”

  She huffed and stopped fighting. I got to my bedroom on the second floor,
which was off limits to the rest of the party, and placed her on my king sized bed.

  “So, what did you have in mind?” I asked.

  She got up on her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. Her hand reached out, latching onto the belt loop of my suit pants. She yanked me close until my dick was eye level.

  “I like the suit,” she said. “It’s sexy as hell.”

  “Only the best.”

  Her fingers ran down my thighs and back up, latching onto my zipper and pulling it down. My cock throbbed in anticipation. She pushed my pants down and out of the way, causing my cock to spring free.

  Desire coursed through me, staring down at her on all fours. She wrapped her fingers around my shaft and gently stroked. Her gaze caught mine and she winked just before dipping her head and taking me into her pretty little mouth.

  I sucked in a ragged breath as she moved her lips up and down, using her tongue as she went. I knotted my hands in her hair and regained control. I pulled back, leaving just my tip covered by her lips before thrusting all the way in again.

  She moaned at the motion, and my balls tightened at the vibrations. Her mouth fell open, welcoming me to pump in and out of her. I did as she wanted, holding her hair and controlling her motions.

  “That’s right. Take it all,” I said as she opened wide. My cock disappeared into her mouth, and she clamped her lips down, sliding back with enough pressure to make me almost shoot my load in the back of her throat.

  Not wanting this to end, I held her off as I took a breather. She sat there with waiting mouth, her tongue licking her lips and begging for my cock. I grabbed hold of my shaft and slapped my dick against her tongue. She moaned again, and then she took total control, throwing my hands off and taking me in balls deep.

  Her head bobbed back and forth as she sucked me hard. My legs became weak and my balls tightened. The pressure kept building until it exploded. I tried to warn her, but she refused to pull away, grabbing my ass and yanking me even further into her mouth.