The Final KO

by Jessica Florence

  The FinalKO

  Jessica

  Florence

  This is a work of fiction. Names, Places, Characters, and Events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events, and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of those terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  Jessica Florence© 2016

  Editing by C. Marie

  Cover by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations©

  Acknowledgment

  I really want to thank you readers first. I am so in awe that you would choose to read one of my stories. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for all of your support.

  Christina (see I used your full name, no slacking) you are the meatball to my spaghetti. You are awesome, and I couldn’t do it without you.

  MA Scott, Marissa, and April. Thank you for reading TFKO when it looked like crap and has missing letters and God knows what else. You help make sure I’m on track with the story and I get everything out of it I am looking for.

  Thank you C. Marie for turning my mess into a beautiful butterfly.

  Sarah you are still the most amazing cover goddess in the universe. Thank you for the art that you create.

  My C.S. chicks. You rock, and you help me through the good and the bad times. I know I can always count on you to help me no matter what time, or when. So glad I met you all.

  Bloggers, you rock and I love you.

  To my husband and baby. I love you both. Hubby you are always supportive and there for me in times that I need to vent or be excited about something in the book world. You might not always understand what I’m talking about but you listen and I appreciate that. Baby girl. You’re cute, keep doing what you are doing.

  Letter to the Reader

  Dear fabulous reader, Yes you.

  Thank you, thank you for taking the time to read this book. I hope you were giddy with enjoyment reading it as I was writing it.

  If you have any extra time, please consider leaving a review on any of the sites where the book can be found. Amazon, B&N, KOBO, Itunes, Goodreads. It helps me out astronomically. You can also Send me a message via Facebook, email, or twitter and I can personally thank you for reading my novel.

  I am so humbled and appreciative that you took the time, and hopefully we will have a long standing book loving relationship.

  Thank you! <3 <3 <3

  Jessica Florence

  Chapter One

  Everyone loves a good ice cream body sundae

  “Does it hurt when you get kicked in the face?” asked Holt, the man I was currently on a date with. I bit my lip trying to not just blurt out that he was an idiot. After mentally counting to ten, I felt like I could answer nicely.

  “Yes, getting hit anywhere hurts, but you don’t really think about it much when you’re in the octagon.” I took a sip of my wine and prayed the waiter brought us the check soon.

  It wasn’t that Holt wasn’t attractive, or that he was a bad guy; he was pretty nice, actually. He was around six foot, a little on the smaller than average size, and he wasn’t built, but you could tell he worked out. He had pretty brown eyes and sandy blond hair. He had opened doors for me, held out my chair, treated me with respect, and tried to engage in conversation with me. I should have been begging him to give me his babies, right?

  Wrong. He was too sweet, and while I was sure he would make some librarian woman very happy, I, on the other hand, fought in the MMA for a living. I loved it; it was a passion. My friend Cammy had set me up with this guy, thinking he would sweep me off my feet, but as soon as I’d seen him I had called how the date would go. He just wasn’t man enough for me.

  The sound of his cell phone ringing brought me back to reality. He reached down into his pocket to see who it was, then pushed it back into his slacks.

  “Sorry, my mom was wondering how the date was going.” He smiled knowingly, like I knew the feeling of having a caring mother. I did, but she wasn’t involved in my love life. I tried to keep that information from her because she was a sex therapist, and she loved to try and help me in the love department. I smiled and sipped some more wine. I was going to have to pee really bad after this date.

  “So, I’ve probably got a few more hours before she will wonder when I’m coming home; would you like to do something else? Maybe see a movie?”

  I almost spit that sip of good wine all over the table. After swallowing, I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

  “You live with your mom?”

  He smiled and nodded.

  “Yeah, she’s been going through a rough time. Got divorced from her second husband two years ago. She needs the company. It’s nice though, I rarely have to cook anything.” I could tell he was truly happy about his life.

  “Well, good for you. I’m gonna go, this isn’t going to work out for me. I’m looking for something different. Have a good night.” I pulled a hundred out of my clutch and knew that would cover the bill and then some. I didn’t want to sit there anymore with the sweet mamma’s boy.

  “Are you sure? I thought we had something. We could go get ice cream and walk in the park?” He was so sweet and sincere, it was almost painful.

  “Unless you are going to lick the ice cream off my tits and fuck me hard in the park, then yeah, I’m sure.” The shocked look on his face told me he would not be doing that. Shame. I waved goodbye and turned to leave the restaurant. Some of the people looked at me as I walked by and I could see the recognition flare in them.

  I smiled politely because that’s what I’d been told to do, and kept on walking. As soon as the valet saw me, he spoke into a walkie and called for my car.

  “Hey you’re Rayne Jackson!” said one of a group of teens as they passed by and then stopped. I smiled seeing their faces. I did enjoy meeting people who supported me in the MMA world.

  “Yep, it’s me!” I exclaimed. One kid looked nervous; taking a guess at what he wanted, I held my hand out.

  “Hand it over.” The kids face paled. Oh no, that’s not what I was aiming for.

  “Your phone. I wanna take a picture with you guys.” I smiled and the kid’s face beamed—all five of them did. I loved this. The one kid pulled out his phone and set it on camera mode before handing it over. We gathered together and I fit us all on the screen.

  “Say cheesecake!” I smiled and clicked the button, then handed it back to the kid.

  “Thank you for the picture. Make sure you tag me on Facebook and Twitter.” The looks on the kids’ faces were priceless. The boys had their chests puffed out like little badasses, and the two girls glowed.

  “Thanks! We’re rooting for you. We hope you beat Tasha’s ass!” one of the boys said excitedly.

  “Thanks guys,” I said just as the valet pulled my car up. I waved to them and they cheered then said bye. I tipped the valet, hopped into my little BMW sedan, and pulled out onto the street. I took a deep breath and cleared my thoughts. I was ready to get home, take a shower, and have a one-on-one session with B.O.B. I pulled into my apartment complex and waited for the gate to scan the little security bar code on my back window to allow me to enter the underground parking lot.

  Before I even got out of the car I took off my heels; I wasn’t a big heels girl. I wore them, because even I liked to be pretty and wear dresses and killer heels, but man did they make my feet sore. With my heels in my hand, I got out of the car and headed up. The elevator ride to floor six was boring and I welcomed it. Once the doors opened, I shuffled to my apartment.

&
nbsp; “Oh honey, didn’t go very well did it?” My neighbor Franny from across the hall opened the door. I gave her a shrug.

  “He was sweet, but a huge mamma’s boy. He wouldn’t even lick ice cream off me,” I whined. She shook her head. Franny was in her seventies and was a widow. She had sort of adopted me when I’d moved in across from her, and she was a firecracker.

  “That’s a shame. Everyone loves a good ice cream body sundae.” She turned and went back into her apartment, then was back in a flash with a plate covered with foil.

  “Here’s some brownies for you.” She handed them over and I balanced them with my free hand.

  “Thank you, I definitely need these. We still good for American Ninja next week?” I asked. She winked and waved me off.

  “Of course dear, now go take a shower. Wash that wimpy boy off you.” She turned and closed the door.

  After unlocking mine, I dropped the brownies off on the counter and went to do exactly what she’d said. I stayed under the warmth of the water’s spray for quite a long time before getting out and drying off. I wiped off the mirror and took in my appearance. My straight black hair was hanging over my breasts and stopped just below them. I always felt like a mystical mermaid when it did that. My green eyes were a dramatic contrast to the dark hair and pale skin. I had a few light freckles that decorated my upturned nose. I looked down at my body and examined myself. I was proud of the body I had worked for. I trained every day for hours—striking, grappling, cardio, and weights.

  I

  grabbed my lotion and lathered up. My fingers massaged over the scars on my right leg a little more, trying to break up any scar tissue. I had finally started to embrace my scars.

  A year before I’d been twenty-eight and in my prime. I was defeating every opponent that was thrown at me, and signed with the UFC and everything. It was the highlight of my life—until my fight with Tasha Talon. She was a feisty woman who’d had it out for me since I’d gotten signed to the UFC before her. I didn’t have any ill will toward her; I never cared if someone didn’t like me. I wasn’t going to be everyone’s favorite person, but I never went out of my way to be a bitch to anyone. I was a very laid back chick and just did whatever made me happy. Tasha, however, just wanted me gone.

  In the beginning of our match, everything was going perfect, until she had me up against the edge of the octagon. She strike kicked and nailed me in the shin. The crack of the bone was so loud it was all I heard in the arena. Tasha had heard it too, but wrapped her leg around my broken one and rolled me over to the ground. I was writhing in pain when they called the match. I was taken out immediately and went to get some x-rays. I had a shattered tibia, and a torn meniscus and ACL. I was in need of surgery, and just like that my career in MMA was on hold. I knew people came back from these injuries, but I also knew it was a long, hard road. I knew it would be tough, but I was willing. I had to do it—and I did. I’d worked my ass off, and now I was three months away from my rematch with Tasha. I was looking forward to it—not for revenge, but to show her and myself that nothing could stop me.

  I looked back up at my reflection, gave myself the “you got this girl” wink, went to check that my door was locked, and turned off the lights. I rolled onto my queen sized bed and reached into my nightstand. Bingo.

  I pulled out my beautiful blue B.O.B. He was the best battery operated boyfriend any girl could ask for. I settled myself against my pillows and set B.O.B. next to me. I wasn’t ready for him just yet but I wanted him to be close when I was. I closed my eyes and thought of my sexy man. He was the same faceless man I thought of all the time. My dream man. He was tall and had an air of confidence that swirled around him. He walked toward me like a lion about to pounce on his prey. I felt my body shiver from his determination to have me. Once he got to me, his hand wrapped around my waist and moved with precision to my ass. With ease he lifted me up and pressed me against the wall with force.

  My dream man was the ultimate alpha man, not an asshole, just confident and strong, and when he knew what he wanted, he got it. My legs wrapped around him and pulled his hips flush with mine.

  My breaths started to grow heavy and I moved my fingers down to my sex; just visualizing my dream man was getting me so wet and primed. I continued the thoughts of my man pressing his cock against my core, making me cry out. I pressed two fingers against my clit and started moving in little circles.

  His lips crashed against mine and he devoured my mouth with purpose. He was dominating me and I was enjoying it—hell, I craved it.

  I knew I was building up to an orgasm fairly quickly. It had been a solid week since my last session. My vision took a turn for desperation: frantically our clothes were scattered about, I bit his lip and he growled.

  I grabbed B.O.B. and rubbed him along the seam of my entrance. Go time. In the same motions of my dream man, I was filled with cock and screaming my release in minutes. The vibrations and the clit stimulator had me shaking and crying out. When I was done, I lay there and basked in my post orgasmic bliss.

  If only a real man could give me the same earth shattering release. I’d yet to find one real guy that could replace dream man, but I wasn’t giving up. I would find him. I rolled out off my bed to clean myself and B.O.B. up, then went back to my comfy sheets and passed out.

  Chapter Two

  Time to go Cinderella

  I woke up to a loud knocking sound on my door. I was going to beat somebody. My coach had actually given me the day to rest, and I wanted to take full advantage of that, starting with those brownies for breakfast. The knocking sound continued. I rolled over and looked at my clock on the nightstand: 7 AM!

  Feeling pissed that someone had woken me up early on an off day, I rolled out of bed and threw on a robe before stomping to the door. I looked in the peep hole and groaned.

  “What do you want Hope? Today’s my day off!” I stared at my little blonde-haired agent with disappointment. She knew my schedule, so she was clearly there for a reason.

  “The Gala is tonight, Rayne, so open the damn door.”

  Reluctantly I opened the door. Hope had been my agent from the beginning, and even when I was out on injury, she’d still stayed be my side. She had become a friend, and she was the best agent I could ask for. She stood about four inches below my five-foot-seven frame, and her brown eyes were staring at me in shock.

  “You’re not up and moving yet?”I turned and went to grab my brownie platter, then settled on the couch.

  “It’s my day off,” I grumbled and unwrapped the plate.

  “I hope you aren’t going to eat that! You’ve got to fit into the dress tonight.” She glared at the brownie in my hand. I glared right back.

  “Seriously? One brownie isn’t going to make me gain fifteen pounds. I work out like crazy, I’m allowed.” I stuffed the brownie in my mouth, moaning at the pure chocolate deliciousness.

  “You forgot about the gala didn’t you?” She sat down on the chair across from my couch. The Gala was a black tie formal event at the famous Ringling art and circus museum in Sarasota, Florida, where I lived, and was for a charity for the arts. There were a few select local artists even showing off their work. It would be a great night, and I was both excited and unenthusiastic about going. There would be other fighters, and a few movie stars who were big into the arts. Sometimes in that type of crowd I felt like I didn’t fit in; I wasn’t into partying or the drama of the high profile lifestyle. I was more of a hang out at home with cooked meals, sparring with my training partners and watching reruns of my favorite shows type of girl.

  “I didn’t forget, I’m just dreading it.” I bit into a second little slice of brownie.

  “This is a big night! Everyone will be there. It will be good to get out there and talk to people. It’ll make everyone see that you are back in business and ready to fight.” Hope was right; it would be a big debut of sorts. I had pretty much stuck to recovering and training since my last fight and I was ready to jump back in.

&nb
sp; “Now, do you have a date for tonight or do I need to find you one?” Another date. I sighed wondering how this one was going to go.

  “You can find me one. I just want to sit on my butt until it’s time to get ready. Cammy’s coming over in a few hours to help me.” My best friend Cammy was a makeup and hair genius. She could do no wrong.

  “Good, good. Who knows? You could meet the man of your dreams tonight.” She beamed; I just rolled my eyes. I seriously doubted it.

  “Well I’ll leave you to enjoy your day. I just wanted to drop this off for you and see if you were ready for The Gala.” She pulled a little envelope out of her purse and handed it to me.

  “Ok, enjoy your rest day because tonight will be one awesome night!” she sang as she walked out of my apartment.

  I looked down at the envelope and opened it. Inside was my invitation to the event along with a little handwritten message that a driver would be picking me up at six. I looked at the clock on my microwave. Twenty minutes had passed since I’d woken up. I set the plate of brownies on the coffee table and went back to my bed, hoping that I would go back to sleep. After tossing and turning, I grabbed the remote and turned on the wall TV to Netflix.

  I pulled up Lost and continued season three. I lay there in bed for a few episodes until I begrudgingly decided I couldn’t waste the whole day away in bed, even though I would have loved to do just that. I got up and went to make myself something good for breakfast besides brownies. I whipped up a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich and devoured it quickly.

  Feeling the need to run, I put on some running clothes and went for a short three-mile run. Since not being able to walk because of the surgery, even for the short time it had been, I didn’t ever want to take moving for granted. I loved running along the Sarasota Bay, seeing the water and the boats passing by. It was so serene and it calmed me down. As I made my way back to the apartment, I saw a few paparazzi hanging by the entrance to my building.