Tuesday swivels around in her chair to face Roman. Her blouse has one unbuttoned notch that reveals a slight glimpse of cleavage. Oh, how he aches to slip his finger down the hollow between her breasts and free them from their tortured existence.
“I’m here because of a promise I made to Oscar. But I won’t hang on to this place if it can’t be brought back into the black in 60 days. After that, I’m free to sell or close this place and start my own business.”
Roman sits on the edge of her desk with his legs spread wide enough apart for her to observe the insane bulge between his legs.
She notices alright, “Perhaps one of your groupies would be impressed by your endowment, however, to me it is neither impressive nor inviting.”
Tuesday stands up, “In this office I demand respect, not cheap theatrics. Understood?”
There is a knock at the door, “Come in,” Tuesday calls out.
Al walks in with a box of paperwork, “This is all of it,” he says to Tuesday.
“Put it on the table,” Tuesday asks. She returns her attention to Roman, “You’re excused.”
Roman chuckles to himself out loud as he rises from the desk and heads toward the door. He won’t let her have the last word, “Powder blue…”
“Excuse me?” Tuesday says to the strange pronouncement.
“You’re intimates. The string between your ass? The lace that hovers near your bush. Powder blue. Goes well with pulsating pink.”
Roman expects a shocked reaction from Tuesday. After all, she just said she demands respect when in this office.
Instead he receives the dreaded, no reaction, “Shut the door on your way out,” she says to get rid of him.
Roman exits the office and pulls the door closed with a mischievous smile on his face. Tuesday will be a challenge, Roman believes, and there is nothing more than a acquiesced fuck to get the juices flowing.
“Is there anything else?” Al asks.
“Nothing. Thank you,” Tuesday says.
Before Al leaves, he speaks on Roman’s behalf, “He’s not always that crude. He’s a hell of a fighter. He’s had to overcome quite a bit to have a taste of glory.”
Tuesday shows a bit of interest, “Like what?”
Al moves in closer to Tuesday, so that he can speak in a softer tone, “He’s never met his father. He’s heard rumors that he’s doing life somewhere. His mother wasn’t much better. He was a foster kid for years before he left those toxic environments. He was invisible and lived on the streets for four years when I found him. He was beating the shit out of some punk who had rolled him for the little bit of cash he had. I bailed him out, and he was left in my care during his probation. I brought him to this gym, introduced him to Oscar. At first he had no discipline, just an insane chip on his shoulder. He would fight like a wild animal with zero technique. It took many months to shape him into the machine he is today.”
“Thank you for the information, Al, but I don’t much care for excuses. Who he is today is who he chooses to be. And all I see is a disgusting, arrogant prick. Goodnight, Al.”
Al nods as he walks to the door and shuts it behind him.
Tuesday pulls the blinds shut in the office for privacy. She kicks off her heels and plops on the couch to go through the paperwork left behind by Oscar.
As she relaxes, she sinks further into the couch and shuts her eyes.
A slight gust of wind follows a flick of the light switch to the off position, which surrounds her in total darkness. Tuesday opens her eyes. She’s not scared, just startled.
She whispers, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Though a physical being, Tuesday has mated with a Shifter, now another being, sometimes invisible to the naked eye, yet fully capable of pleasing a woman. This Shifter has a ravenous appetite tonight.
Tuesday seductively licks her lips as the Shifter straddles her on the couch and methodically unbuttons her blouse. Her breasts heave up and down with anticipation as he transfixes his eyes on her.
The Shifter reaches around and unhooks her bra at the same time he pulls her skirt down to her ankles. This Shifter can call upon the use of two wings, two hands and all five senses to please a woman.
Tuesday arches her back as the Shifter spreads her legs.
Chapter Four
It’s 5 am, and Roman awakes like clockwork without an alarm. The blanket was kicked off during the night and lays crumpled on the floor, beside his bed. His sheet wraps around his body like an anaconda.
Roman rolls over onto his back. He raises his hips to yank the sheet away from his body. The overhead oscillating fan whips cool air over his naked frame in waves.
A naked woman is wearing nothing but a gold chain around her waist lies beside him. She’s dead to the world and sleeps on her side with her legs in a bent position.
Her snores and snorts jar Roman. He doesn’t even remember who she is, only that she was waiting for him outside his car last night.
He shifts himself next to her as if her were going to spoon her. But instead he reaches over her hips and parts her labia with his fingers. She stirs as he jams himself into her from behind. Her vagina lacks lubrication, yet this doesn’t stop Roman.
The friction causes the woman to awaken with a screech before a moan as she reaches behind to grab Roman’s ass and squeezes it as he pounds into her.
He pulls out of her and flips her over onto her back. With is usual asshole move, he shoves her head down to his throbbing cock. She grabs hold of it with both hands as she sucks the tip, then the shaft.
“All of it,” Roman demands.
The woman inserts the entire cock into her mouth, a few inches at a time. Roman uses his hips and thrusts his cock down her throat. She has a gag reflex from the sudden motion and yanks the cock out of her mouth.
“Jackass,” she says to Roman as she climbs out of bed and grabs her clothes.
“You’re not leaving me like this,” Roman says with a rock hard cock about to explode.
“You’ve got two hands,” the woman says as she quickly dresses and leaves the room. A moment later, the front door slams shut.
“Shit.”
Roman waddles to the bathroom and turns on the shower. He steps in as the hot water beats against his quivering back. He places his penis between both palms and presses them together. He then uses his left hand to move up and down his shaft and uses his right hand to squeeze his tip.
Roman switches to a double-handed technique where he simulates wringing out water from a cloth. That does it. Roman erupts with warm semen exploding out the tip of his penis the way a volcano overflows with lava.
Roman steadies himself up against the wall as his legs are weak. He turns towards the shower-head and allows the water to rinse it all away.
After his shower and manscape routine, Roman dresses for a workout. The Pretty glides into the kitchen and blends a whey protein shake with whole almonds. In less than an hour, he will be engaged in his first training session of the day, so he makes sure he’s not weighed down with a heavy breakfast.
Gone are the days of pancakes, bacon and sausage. Once Roman decided he was going to be the champion, he changed his entire lifestyle to support his dream. Sure, he treats himself every once in a blue moon with a throwaway meal; but never close to a match.
Roman grabs his bag and cell phone and exits his apartment
* * *

Inside his car, his phone connects to the car’s speaker. Roman pulls out of the driveway and is on his way to the gym.
The phone rings. Roman presses a button to answer the call. It’s a reporter from an MMA magazine; one of several interviews Roman grants monthly.
He’s hot shit right now and knows it. Reporters from across the country and Europe want a piece of The Pretty.
The Reporter asks him about friendships inside and outside the ring, “Who are you closest to?”
The Pretty responds, “The people that I’m closest too are fighters or trainers. I
t’s a small group. You get close to people; like family. They are your family.”
The Reporter then asks, “Have you ever had to fight a friend in the ring? And if so, were you conflicted?”
“Of course,” Roman responds, “Our friendship is strictly outside the ring. Once we step into the cage, that man is my enemy. I see him as the man standing between me and what’s mine.”
“Can you elaborate?” The Reporter asks.
“Say I have a daughter I’m supporting. My opponent is a threat to my daughter, and to me. If I don’t win, my daughter doesn’t eat. So I have to put him down.”
“Do you have a family? A daughter?” The reporter asks, “I mean, besides your less than idyllic parents.”
Roman parks in the gym's parking lot and turns off the ignition. He responds abruptly, ‘The other fighters are my only brothers and the cage is my mistress; there to push me past my comfort zone. I’m there to stroke her, to please her and to draw blood for her.”
Chapter Five
Roman swings the doors to the gym open with such a thud, the glass rattles and the other fighters in the gym pause for a moment.
That reporter has touched a nerve with Roman. He doesn’t know why someone asking about his childhood would still have an effect on him. He hates feeling this way or acknowledging that his past still brings up so many raw emotions.
Roman commands his space, stands contrapposto, like an alpha male. He never leans into a conversation, always faces out, toward the room.
Even the position of his feet on the floor signal his status. He doesn’t approach other men; they approach him.
Other fighters in the gym stop their training as he walks by, with respect to the master. He exchanges one-handed shakes and back-pats. Lucky Lewis gives him the “bro” handshake.
For there is no one even remotely like him in the UFC; and no one comes close to the talent he possesses.
After the handshakes, The Pretty meets up with Al near the corner ring.
Roman glances up at the office for any signs of Tuesday. She’s not in the office or gym. This is actually a good thing as he doesn’t need the distraction that her scent, her pussy brings.
Roman and Al spend several hours on drills before The Pretty steps into the fighting ring to spar with Alvarado.
Alvarado, a friend, and former roommate has three pounds on The Pretty. He's also built differently as he's more solid than spry; which can count in his favor, as well as against him.
The Pretty steps inside the practice ring and hugs Alvarado as Lucky Lewis moves to the front of the crowd to stake his viewing spot.
“How are you doing, man?” Roman asks.
Alvarado responds, “The baby turns three tomorrow. I want you to come by and enjoy the birthday festivities, Roman. Sylvia asked me to ask you one more time. She worries about your well-being.”
Roman smiles in appreciation, “I’m no good at birthday parties, Marco. Babies, cake and me don’t mix. But I appreciate the invite.”
“No problem man,” Alvarado assures.
A Referee steps in and outstretches his arms that signal them to go to their corners.
The bell rings. Both men automatically switch to a different mindset; that of kill or be killed.
Other fighters pause their workouts to witness this sparring matchup that will go as many rounds as it takes to declare a winner.
With The Pretty, you have a freak physical specimen with killer kickboxing blows. And with Alvarado, you have a cunning, elusive Jujitsu stylist; an expert in his Martial Arts field with a nine-and-a-half reach advantage.
Though just a sparring match, this could very well be one of the best match-ups anyone could imagine.
Al asks The Pretty before the bell rings, “Alvarado may have a shot. Treat this as a title fight.”
The Pretty adjusts his gloves, “Everyone has a shot, Al. But it’s my job is to take that away from them.”
Al steps out of the ring.
The bell sounds.
Playing a mental game as well as a physical, The Pretty squats low to the ground and almost crawls towards Alvarado. He keeps one hand on the ground so that Alvarado can’t kick him.
He’s up now and bounces right to left before a leg sweep. Alvarado avoids the tumble and does a right, right left jab. None of them lands on, The Pretty.
Alvarado darts in and out of the strike zone. The Pretty uses his left leg in a hook fashion and makes contact with the right side of Alvarado’s head. Alvarado stumbles back, but quickly regains his footing.
The Pretty using a spinning back kick and just misses Alvarado by an inch. However, it may as well have been missed by a mile, as far as The Pretty is concerned.
Tuesday returns from a meeting and is intrigued by the Titan matchup. She keeps her distance, yet studies every nuance of the bout.
Most women with her upbringing would recoil at the sight of men beating on other men for sport. Most women would find it barbaric to pound a man when he’s down and to purposely draw blood.
But this sport arouses something in Tuesday. She sees them as modern-day warriors and to the victor goes the spoils.
The Pretty and Alvarado shuffle around the ring with only each other in their sites.
Alvarado counter strikes with a kick to the leg. He’s as good as any when it comes to this technique. And there’s no windup to his kicks because of his Jujitsu style of training. He doesn’t step before he throws his kicks; just kicks from his stance which means most of his opponents can’t see them coming.
However, The Pretty has studied Alvarado and has picked up a clue that may even be hidden to Alvarado himself. His thigh muscles contract just before the strike that gives The Pretty a split second to make a counter move.
The Pretty continually changes his stance. He doesn’t fight southpaw or orthodox, so his opponent cannot anticipate what he’s going to do next.
The Pretty fakes left, hits right and catches the cheek of Alvarado, which sends him stumbling back a few steps before he again recovers.
Alvarado just misses with his right hook counter as The Pretty outstretches his right arm and shuffles to the left.
Both men have gone all in; this isn’t just another sparring match. As far as The Pretty and Alvarado are concerned, this is life or death, and everyone in the gym can feel it.
Alvarado rushes forward with a karate blitz that causes The Pretty to lose his balance for a split second. He recovers before Alvarado can do further damage.
Alvarado lands a body kick to the left as The Pretty blocks a follow-up with his forearm. Alvarado grows more confident and dangerous.
Alvarado uses one of the Pretty’s techniques; a front leg side kicks to the side. Alvarado misses with no contact, but he means to win.
With another blitz, Alvarado lands a solid kick to the body. The Pretty ignores the pain and sets out to put Alvarado in the ground.
The Pretty begins to mimic Alvarado’s moves the way an alien would absorb its host. He plays the same game Alvarado plays which confuse Alvarado; who is, in essence, now playing against himself.
Al squeezes a horn as the two men go to their corners. The Pretty gets ice packs on his check, shoulders and neck. Alvarado has ice packs on his knees.
Al speaks to The Pretty, “I see your mind wandering in the cage. That’s not like you. Focus!”
Alvarado’s Coach tells him. “Continue the blitz. He’s on the defense. You got this.”
The bell rings and the two fighters are back in the center.
The Pretty spins and kicks towards Alvarado’s head two times in a row. Alvarado stumbles back when he works to avoid the blows.
The fighters tap and clang knuckles two times before Alvarado drops to the ground and sweeps his leg under The Pretty to drop him. With lightning fast reflexes, The Pretty jumps over the leg and counters with his own sweep, which knocks Alvarado on his back.
The Pretty uses his Roman Gecko wrestling training to pin Alvarado to the ground. His elbows are v
icious, and he uses them like sledgehammers to cut deep gouges across Alvarado’s head.
The force and angle of The Pretty’s elbows cause severe damage as blood spurts onto the mat and drizzles down Alvarado’s face.
The Pretty looks to choke before the Referee separates the two fighters and calls a time out. The Referee orders Alvarado to be examined by the Doctor.
Alvarado begrudgingly allows the Doctor to access the damage and apply powdered charcoal to stop the bleeding. Alvarado is anxious to exact revenge.
The PRETTY (EROM Curvy Romance #1) Page 2
