Trick (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel Book 7)

by Lane Hart

  “So you think I’m supposed to just sit back and let you ruin her life?” I ask.

  “Why do you care?” he asks. “You’re the one who’s fucking Willow, right? I’m not asking you to stop.”

  “Wow,” I say with a shake of my head, not sure how he found out but happy the cat is out of the bag. “Glad to have her husband’s blessing to keep fucking her. She loves everything I do to her, by the way,” I can’t help but gloat. “Came on my tongue so hard she nearly screamed down the garage walls right before you showed up earlier.”

  He makes a pained squeak of a sound. Apparently, that was more honesty than he wanted to hear about his bride’s affair.

  “I’m gonna tell Mina the truth tonight after I fuck her again. So, by tomorrow morning, you’ll be a free man,” I warn him, getting to my feet and heading for the door.

  “Wait! Don’t do this! Please! I’ll…I’ll give you the house and my car if you keep your mouth shut,” he calls out to me. “That’s, like, over a million dollars!”

  “She’s worth a helluva lot more than that,” I tell him over my shoulder before jerking the door open and walking out.

  …

  Mina

  Shit.

  When Michael and I arrive back at the house, my mom’s SUV is still not in the garage, so I know I need to stall a little longer.

  “So, Michael, what do you think of your brother?” I ask after turning off the engine.

  “He’s big and tough,” he answers with the obvious, a smear of chocolate ice cream still on his cheek.

  “Yeah, he is,” I agree with a smile.

  “Why didn’t Dad ever talk about him?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure,” I tell him honestly. “But I know the reason Patrick hasn’t been around is not because he didn’t care, but because he was in the military, you know, serving our country in the Marines.”

  “Wow,” he says in awe. “That’s badass.”

  I laugh before I can help myself. “Yeah, it is, but you better not say that word again.”

  “I won’t. Don’t tell Dad,” he says quickly.

  “Don’t tell Dad what?” I tease with a ruffle of his hair.

  Thankfully headlights appear in the rearview, and then Patrick is pulling up in the garage next to us.

  Michael and I finally climb out of my car and walk back to the house with him.

  “Where have you two been?” Patrick asks.

  “Ice cream,” Michael answers. “Hey, can we play another game of basketball tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Patrick agrees. “But only if you’ll finally let me win a few.”

  “Yeah, right,” Michael says with a smile. “Gotta earn your own wins.”

  “You better hurry up and get ready for bed,” I warn Michael when we walk through the kitchen.

  “Okay. Goodnight,” he calls out to us.

  “Night,” Patrick replies.

  When I start up the steps, Patrick grabs my hand to stop me. “We need to talk,” he says softly.

  I nod in agreement, even if by talk I’m pretty sure he means get naked and make the sounds of wild monkeys in heat.

  “Once everyone is asleep, I’ll slip into your room,” I tell him before heading up the stairs and shutting myself in the bathroom.

  I’m in the middle of washing my face with a washcloth when the locked door opens and quickly shuts again.

  Fuck. He’s gotten so angry and desperate that he’s now risking getting caught.

  Before I can move, the asshole grabs me by my hair and slams my face down so hard on the counter I’ll probably have a knot on my temple. Pain radiates from my head, and then I hear his belt being undone. But instead of freezing up or giving in, I reach for the edge of the sink counter, gripping it with my fingertips and sliding my upper body down it, getting closer to the door. No way am I letting this happen tonight. Never again. I’ll scream for Patrick, and consequences be damned before I let him have me again.

  Mike stays silent as I fight, obviously afraid my mom or Patrick will hear him, but I can practically feel the impact of his mental curses being hurled at me. When he lets go of my hair to grab my hips to hold them down, I pick my right foot up and kick backward, jarring his knee.

  “Goddamn it!”

  This time he does curse aloud, but he lets me go, and I grab for the doorknob.

  “You’re gonna pay for this, you little slut,” he threatens. “Tonight. With a little blue pill, I can go for hours.”

  “Good luck figuring out which room I’m in,” I taunt quickly over my shoulder. “I don’t think Patrick will take kindly to you coming in his room with a stiffy.”

  Escaping the bathroom, I dart across the hall and into my bedroom.

  “You okay?” Patrick asks when he looks up and sees me.

  “Yeah,” I lie. “When the house gets quiet, you come to me and shut this door, okay?”

  He nods, but instead of a devious smile, there’s a frown marring his handsome face. Shit. Does he know his dad was in the bathroom with me? Will he think I’m a slut, that I wanted it?

  Without another word, I slip out of the room and lock myself in Bridgette’s. Patrick’s a smart man. I’m sure he’ll find the push lock key above the door frame to get in. Even if he doesn’t know I was in the bathroom with his father, I wonder how upset he’ll be when he finds out we won’t be having sex tonight.

  …

  Trick

  When I left the asshole’s house, I had one goal in mind --- come home, fuck Mina, then tell her the truth.

  Now, I’m rethinking the plan.

  If I tell her that her stepfather paid off a man to date her, sleep with her and marry her, she’ll be crushed. Devastated. I don’t want to be the one responsible for hurting her like that. Every part of her relationship with that boy has been a lie. One that I don’t understand, but a lie all the same. She’ll never trust anyone again.

  As for my father’s part, I imagine this is his way of thinking he’s taking care of Mina, making sure her husband has a bright future, following in his footsteps and even giving him a place with his law firm. The son he never had. It’s fucked up for sure, but he probably thinks Mina deserves a good guy, and this was the best he could do for her. If she finds out, though, it’ll be brutal.

  So that’s why I’m back to thinking I just need to convince Mina to call off the wedding on her own. That way, she keeps her dignity intact and never has to know about the lies. Now I just have to figure out how to do that.

  Sex is a great first step. The more of it we have, the more I show Mina what she’s missing with the prick paid to be with her. She gave her virginity to that asshole, and he profited from it, which is so disturbing. The husband-to-be can’t give her what she needs in bed, not like I can. Like I’ve already given her.

  But it’s gonna take more than mind-blowing sex to convince Mina to leave the asshole at the altar and give me a chance. I’ve got to show her that there’s more to me than a few good romps in the sack. I can take care of her, protect her from pricks like Derek and the one that marked her ass. I can love her the way she deserves to be loved. I just have to figure out how to do that in a few days’ time.

  New plan cemented, I crack the door open, sneaking a peek into the hallway. Seeing nothing but darkness, I tiptoe down to Bridgette’s bedroom. When I turn the knob, it’s locked, but feeling around the top of the door frame, I find the standard push key that I use to unlock it. My teeth grind at the loud sound in the otherwise silence, but nothing would keep me out of Mina’s bed tonight.

  The room is pitch black after I shut the door and lock it again behind me, so I have to feel my way around until I get to the mattress and climb in. Soon, I’m plastered against the backside of her warm, clothed body that smells like soothing lavender.

  “Hey,” I whisper into her hair with a hand gripping her hip.

  “Hey,” Mina replies, rolling over to face me.

  My lips kiss down her face until I find her mouth and dip my tongu
e inside.

  Fuck.

  She tastes like heaven. And while I just told myself that there has to be more than sex with her to make her give me a shot, I can’t help myself. I need to be inside her.

  Rolling on top of her, I deepen the kiss and can’t stop from rocking my hips, grinding my cock against her mound.

  “Patrick,” she says breathlessly when she pulls her lips away. “We can’t have sex in here.”

  “Why not?” I ask, already shoving the front of my boxers down to get one layer of clothing out of our way.

  “I’m not gonna have messy sex with you in my sister’s bed,” she whispers.

  I kiss my way down her neck. “How about the floor? Can we have messy sex on the floor? Or go back to your room for messy sex? I need you, gorgeous.”

  She lifts her hips to rub herself on my hardness, telling me she wants me just as much I want her. With a sigh, she says, “Roll over.”

  I don’t have to be told twice. As soon as I’m on my back, Mina climbs on top of me and shimmies down my body. “I’ll suck your dick and swallow, but that’s it,” she says before her lips seal around the head of my swollen cock, making me hiss in pleasure.

  Jesus fuck, her mouth is incredible. I’m an asshole because I can’t even control myself. My fingers tangle in her hair to force her pace and depth tonight, needing the release so bad thanks to how good she sucks me down her throat.

  “That’s it,” I praise her when her fist strokes my pole and she licks the knob. “Oh fuck,” I groan, and my hips come off the mattress, driving my cock deeper into her mouth, needing more of her warm, wet suction right before my release jerks through my body and I shudder in ecstasy. Even after I come down from the pleasurable high, Mina keeps licking up and down my cock, making sure she catches every drop of my cum.

  What was it I was gonna tell her?

  Oh yeah, that I want more than sex with her.

  Shit.

  “Mina, I’m sorry,” I tell her as she moves up the bed, slipping her arm around my waist and resting her head on my chest.

  “It’s okay. I wanted to,” she tells me.

  “That’s not why I came in here,” I assure her, my arms around her, holding her to me tightly. “But whenever I get near you, I want to kiss you. And once I kiss you, I want to be inside you so bad I can’t stand it.”

  “I know. I feel the same,” she answers.

  “You want to be inside me too?” I joke, making her laugh. The sound is so sweet and happy that it instantly makes my guilt double since I’m hiding important shit from her. I can always tell her before the wedding if it comes down to it. There’s no way she can marry that prick.

  “I like being with you. You make me feel safe,” Mina says, and I actually feel my heart swell in my chest.

  “Come back to North Carolina with me,” I blurt out. “You’re not happy here, right?”

  “Patrick, I wish I could, but I can’t,” she answers. “My sister and little brother are here.”

  Fuck. So much for that idea.

  “Maybe you could, I don’t know, stay a little longer?” she asks.

  “I can’t. They’re expecting me back at the gym Monday, Tuesday at the latest.”

  “You can train anywhere, right?” she asks. And while I’m happy that she wants me to stay around here, it’s impossible.

  “Not exactly. The IFC is offering me a contract. Havoc has some world-class fighters and the funds to pay for top dollar coaches you can’t find anywhere else. I mean, they made me into a champion fighter in just a few weeks. In a few months or years, I could be damn good.”

  “Will you at least visit?” she asks.

  “Yeah. Of course. And you could do the same. Just come stay with me a few weeks…”

  “No, Patrick. I can’t.”

  “So you’re just gonna marry some asshole who doesn’t make you happy and be miserable the rest of your life?” I ask.

  “Shh,” she shushes me with a finger pressed to my lips. “I won’t be miserable. Miserable is what I am now, and it can only get better. But I don’t want to argue with you tonight, so will you just hold me?”

  “Yeah,” I answer on a heavy sigh.

  “Thank you,” she says, pressing a kiss to my chest. “Goodnight.”

  “Night,” I reply.

  Instead of falling asleep, I lay there with the perfect woman in my arms, wondering what the hell she meant about being miserable now. Am I the reason she’s miserable?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mina

  After shaking Patrick awake to come downstairs and get breakfast with me before his dad thinks of busting into the bedroom looking for me, we sit across from each other at the dining table silently eating toast and trying to wake up.

  “You an early riser too?” Patrick asks me as I use a knife to slather the warm, toasted bread with peanut butter while he drenches his with grape jelly.

  “Yeah, guess so,” I answer. Mornings are always better than nights. Too busy getting ready for work, I’ve always been safe from my stepfather first thing in the mornings. “Would you like some toast with your jelly?” I tease Patrick.

  “Hey, unlike some people, I live on a tight budget where things like jelly are usually rationed. Since you guys are rolling in the dough, I’m gonna indulge,” he says with a sleepy smile.

  “Wow, out of all the luxuries to choose from, you’re gonna go with grape jelly?” I ask, and he shrugs. “Guess that’s better than ketchup on eggs.”

  Patrick pauses with the grape mountain halfway to his open mouth. “Who the fuck eats ketchup on their eggs?” he asks with a look of disgust on his handsome, scruffy face.

  “Derek,” I answer, and Patrick looks away. “Strange, I know. We don’t ever have breakfast together because he grosses me out.”

  “Yeah, ketchup on eggs could never compliment that peanut butter toast,” Patrick states, nodding toward my half-eaten slice of bread. “Peanut butter and jelly, though, well, there’s never been a better pairing, has there?” he finishes with a grin and a wink.

  “No, I guess not,” I agree, knowing he’s not actually talking about breakfast pairings. But what he said is true. From the very first time Patrick and I were together outside the club, we’ve been a perfect fit. Easy and effortless when it comes to intimacy. No one has ever made me feel as safe and comfortable with sex or has turned me on the way the man across the table can with just a few words. “Never had anything quite as…satisfying or messy as peanut butter and jelly,” I tell him.

  “See, that’s the problem when you only have peanut butter,” he leans forward and says. “Without the jelly, the toast is too dry and bland.”

  “And that’s no fun,” I add.

  Patrick squirms in his seat, and I wonder if it has anything to do with the morning wood he woke up with causing him problems. I would love to take care of that for him again with my mouth.

  “I’ve never gotten so hungry while I was eating,” he tells me.

  “Maybe that’s because you’re eating the wrong thing,” I bait him, causing his amber eyes to darken and a single eyebrow to arch.

  “Keep talking like that, and I’ll have your ass up on this table with my tongue buried in your –”

  “You’re up early.” Mike, unfortunately, storms into the kitchen with the morning newspaper in his hand, interrupting Patrick’s sexy threat.

  “Yeah, dress fitting and getting Patrick a tux,” I answer, even though I’m not sure which one of us he was talking to.

  “Right,” Mike mutters while grabbing a coffee mug and pouring himself a cup from the pot. Thankfully, he takes it, along with the newspaper, outside to the patio.

  “He’s not a morning person, huh?” Patrick asks, staring out the window.

  “Nah, more of a night owl,” I answer. “We’re supposed to be at the bridal store at eight-thirty, so let me get a shower, and I’ll be ready in about an hour.”

  “Yeah, I’ll get a shower after you,” Patrick says, sounding
distracted as he watches his father.

  I feel bad for him, coming all this way after so many years and Mike hasn’t taken two seconds out of his busy life to spend time with him. What a jerk. Not that I didn’t already know that, but he’s even more so for ignoring his son. Michael rarely sees his father or mother either. A lot of nights it’s just me, him and Bridgette having dinner together since my mother is usually MIA too. Soon, she and I will both be gone. Our family is so fucked up. If Patrick only knew the half of it…

  …

  Patrick

  I’m finishing my cup of coffee when Michael comes into the kitchen with his backpack on.

  “Morning. Getting ready for school?” I ask the obvious.

  “Morning,” he answers, heading for the counter where he grabs a bowl from the cabinet. “Just gonna fix my breakfast before Danny’s mom comes to pick me up.”

  I watch as he gets out a box of frosted flakes, dumping them in the bowl before grabbing the gallon of milk from the fridge to pour on top. He looks so much older than his eight years taking care of himself. His life is so different from how Alyssa is up and making a hot breakfast for Grayson each morning even though she’s always in a rush to get to work.

  “You do your own breakfasts most mornings?” I ask him.

  “Uh-huh,” he answers, grabbing a spoon and digging in while standing at the counter with his backpack still on. “Dad’s usually at work by the time I get up, and mom likes to sleep late before her yoga class.”

  Fuck, that’s sad.

  “Mina and Bridgette usually eat with me, but lately they’ve been busy with the wedding and graduation stuff, you know?”

  “Yeah, I bet,” I reply while watching him shovel quick spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth. “You up for a few games of Horse this afternoon?” I ask him.

  “Sure!” he answers with a smile before a horn beeps from outside. “Well, I’ve gotta go. See ya later!”

  “See ya,” I reply before he puts his bowl in the sink and disappears out the back door.

  I watch him walk past our father, who barely looks up from the paper in his hands. What an asshole. At least I’m starting to see that it wasn’t just me who doesn’t impress my father. Apparently, nothing does. I consider going out to try and start a conversation with him but decide I would rather hang around in Mina’s room, waiting for her to get out of the shower.