The Cocky Cage Fighter Six Book Box Set

by Lane Hart

  "So you're gonna tell him the truth, right?" she asks.

  "What? That I lied to him Friday night and took his money pretending to be someone I'm not because my sister, the real Eve Kelly, was too wasted to stand on a stage?"

  "Um, well, that sounds sort of bad, but he's gonna eventually find out who you are, don't you think? Probably even before the end of the night."

  "I don't know what to do," I whine, combing my fingers through my hair as I try to think this through. "It's not like I thought I'd ever see him again." I'd only hoped I would get to see him.

  It feels like every second of every day when I'm at work, all I do is think about him. The memories of his gorgeous smile, and those sweet, sincere navy blue eyes are so distracting that I've had to start writing down all the orders I used to remember. And then at night while I lay in bed trying to fall asleep there are all those extremely naughty thoughts I have about him and his...Cock Ness Monster.

  "I can't believe he's really here, and he's even hotter than I remembered," I tell Kylie.

  "You want me to go along with it, don't you?" she asks with a frown and a hand on her hip. "Is that why you dragged me in here?"

  "Yes," I admit.

  She looks at me for several long, silent seconds, before she says, "Fine! Come on, Mandy, you big slut. Let's get back out there to those two scrumptious men." Sounds good to me. I check my hair and makeup quickly in the mirror before I follow her out the door, my heart racing in my chest with excitement.

  A smile spreads across my face when I see the guys again and realize they’ve left two seats in between them for us. Apparently Senn is just as interested in Kylie as she is in him. How sweet. But now it sort of feels like this has turned into a double date. Why does that make me nervous? He’s already seen me naked, now I just have to talk to him.

  "Hey," Linc says when I take a seat in the gray metal folding chair next to him. "It's actually Mandy, right? Your brother told me your real name," he explains when I look up at him in surprise.

  "Uh-huh," I mutter, trying not to squirm in my seat at the additional lie. God, it feels like they're really starting to pile up.

  Linc leans over and dips his head so that his lips are so close to my ear that I feel his heated breath. "You lied," he says and my lungs seize up. "Your painting is incredible. Thanks for doin’ that for me."

  I blow out my breath when I realize he wasn't referring to me lying about my identity. Whew. And hearing his southern accent again, well, I'm pretty sure my panties are already wet.

  "Um, you're welcome," I respond, trying not to squirm in my seat. "I know it's not much, but I wanted to do something…"

  "How'd you know where I lived?" he asks, causing my head to whip around to his face that's only inches away.

  "What?" I ask in confusion to his random question. He thinks I've been to his house?

  "My lake? The one you painted?"

  "You have a lake? And no, I’ve never been to your house. I don't even know what city you live in," I tell him honestly.

  "Really?" he asks. "Because the weepin’ willows, the small pier, even the heights of the tree line are all identical."

  "Seriously?" He actually lives on a lake like some of the picture perfect places I see when I paint? I bet it's amazing.

  "Yeah."

  "Then you must have a beautiful view every day," I tell him.

  He nods in agreement. "That’s why I decided to build there a few years ago, right after I won my first title."

  "You were awfully modest about your success the other night," I tease when he brings up his career. "I believe some refer to you as a 'legend'?"

  He chuckles and ducks his head almost shyly. "I've had a pretty successful career. Lots of wins, only two losses. Nothin’ close to bein’ a 'legend', though. Especially not after I lost my title and broke my arm."

  "Your fights must pay a helluva lot more than these gigs," I say, nodding to the circular, jerry-rigged cage.

  "Half a million for a loss, so yeah, it pays pretty well," he tells me, and then shrugs like it's no big deal. My mind can't even compute having such a huge amount of money. For a loss? How much does he get paid if he wins? Damn, I bet it's probably close to a million! I'm sitting beside a millionaire, and he's...not what you would expect. He's down to Earth and so freaking sweet.

  "Must be nice," I reply, unable to help the ping of jealousy. My whole life has been spent scraping together pennies to get by, burdened by the constant worry and stress of electricity getting cut off or being evicted. Not having to worry about money is a luxury I know I'll probably never have. But maybe if things work out, Mason can have that success. Despite his usually injured face, he's a great fighter, and the crowd, mostly women, love him here. If he went mainstream? That would be an incredible opportunity.

  “So you're gonna see about getting Mason into legitimate fighting?" I ask.

  "Yeah." He nods, eyeing the currently empty cage. "We'll see what he's got tonight. Senn started the same way, gettin’ busted up in a few of these amateur fights before he started trainin’ in our gym. Now he's ranked thirteenth in the world and sixth in the country."

  "Wow. That's pretty impressive," I admit, glancing over to the long-haired fighter. The one who is currently flashing his somehow still perfect rows of teeth at Kylie. Her hazy gaze makes me think she's lust drunk. "What about you? What is your current rank?" I ask Linc, looking up into his sparkling blue eyes.

  "Second in the country, second in the world after bein’ first for four years," he says, sounding only slightly disappointed.

  "Holy shit," I say in surprise.

  With one last smile, our conversation is interrupted when the announcer comes over the speaker system, introducing the first fight of the night. As we watch and cheer for the two men beating each other bloody, I have a hard time picturing Linc doing this same thing to someone else. He seems like too...nice of a guy. A nice guy who I'm continuing to lie to because I'm just not ready to let him go.

  Chapter Eight

  Linc

  I can't focus on any of the fights, not that they really matter. We only came to watch the last one. No, I'm too busy tryin’ to figure out how to put my hands, or even better, my mouth, on the woman next to me again. When I saw that she came, I was ecstatic to get to have another night with her, even if she’s dressed this time. And seein’ her in regular clothes...God she's fuckin’ gorgeous. All covered up in the tight fittin’ jeans and a white sweater, she's back to lookin’ like an innocent and shy woman who doesn't have any idea how breathtakin’ she is, or how every man in the place is checkin’ her out. While some may be eye fuckin’ her because they recognize her from X-rated movies, most are starin’ because she's got the face of an angel and the body of an erotic deity.

  It only takes about thirty seconds for me to decide that I definitely don't like other men lookin’ at her, regardless of the reason. In fact, I desperately want to touch her, to lay an obvious claim on her, even if it's only for a few hours tonight. But for the first time in years, I'm not sure how to make the first move. It's like I'm an awkward teenage boy tryin’ to figure out how to hold a girl's hand.

  Eventually I decide to casually throw my good arm over the back of her chair, since she's sittin’ to my right. After she crosses her legs toward me, leavin’ her knee pressed against my thigh, I feel like we're playin’ chess and it's now my move again. The heat from her body, and her sweet, citrusy smell calls to me, makin’ my mouth water and my cock swell. Seein’ her fully clothed is almost as hot as her completely naked. I want to remove each and every piece of fabric myself, and I can't help but wonder what kind of panties and bra she's wearing underneath. Shit, if I don’t get these dirty thoughts under control, there’s gonna be a Cock Ness Monster sightin’ real fuckin’ soon.

  Mandy’s knee starts bouncin’ like she’s suddenly impatient. She turns to me and blurts out, “Do you want to go get some air?”

  “Air?” I ask with a grin. Check mate.

&nbs
p; “Uh-huh. Kind of stuffy in here, don’t you think?” she asks, fannin’ her red-stained face.

  “It is definitely stuffy,” I reply even though the temperature is perfectly fine to me. “Let’s go get some air.”

  She leans over and tells her friend, then stands up to leave. Seizin’ the opportunity, I grab her hand and lead her through the rows of chairs to the closest exit. Even knowin’ I’m takin’ our life into my hands by goin’ out into the shitty neighborhood this time of night, the benefits of bein’ alone, or more alone with her, are definitely outweighin’ the risks.

  “Better?” I ask, after we step through the doors of the unmarked warehouse and into the empty concrete alley. There are a couple of smokers hangin’ around, but they’re not within earshot.

  “Yes, much better,” Mandy says on an exhale, proppin’ one of her shoulders against the building. “So what have you been up to this week?” she asks.

  Her question instantly has me thinkin’ of Abby and the surprise visit that managed to flip shit upside down. For five years I tried to forget her, the hurt, the anger, and especially all the good times. Just when I'm doin’ perfectly fine she has to come back into my life, stirrin’ up the past right when the dust finally settled.

  As I look down at our still clasped hands, I try to decide how to respond and whether or not I should bring the Abby issue up with Mandy. I could use someone's unbiased opinion, since my parents have made it clear when we had words about givin’ out my address that they think I should make amends. My boys...they tend to swing more in the forget her and move on mentality. I decide to go ahead and lay it on Mandy, and get it off my chest.

  “An old friend I haven’t seen in a long time stopped by to see me at the gym this week,” I tell her honestly, well...mostly. She doesn’t need to know the friend was an ex-girlfriend.

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she asks as she looks up at me. Her light blue eyes catch the illumination of the lamp post, makin’ them glow. She's stunning, and makin’ it really hard for me to concentrate on what I was sayin’. Oh yeah, was Abby's visit good or bad?

  “I’m not sure. After I was certain I could go the rest of my life never seein’ this person again because of some bad shit that happened in the past, now I’m wonderin’ if maybe I'm overreactin’ and should, I don’t know, just forgive and forget?”

  “How bad was the shit?” she asks with a smile.

  “The worst shit ever,” I tell her. When her eyes move down to my chest, I realize my free hand is unknowingly fidgetin’ with the memorial charms on my necklace. I let them go, makin’ it disappear again down my shirt.

  “So why are you now ready to forgive and forget if what they did was so bad?”

  “They’re really sick and could possibly die,” I explain on an exhale.

  “Oh,” she gasps and we stand silent for several seconds. “Well, then why not let it go before you may have to let them go? Won’t you feel better if things end on a good note while they still can, instead of holding on to the anger and having regrets? It won't do any good to hold on to it, right? Unless it's just to keep punishing them? Continuing to hurt them for hurting you in the past?”

  Is that what I'm doin’? Refusin’ to forgive Abby because it's my way of gettin’ revenge? Am I purposely gonna hurt her when she's goin’ through hell all because she hurt me five years ago when we were both young and stupid in love?

  “You’re a pretty wise woman,” I tease, pullin’ Mandy flush against the front of my body. That's when I realize she doesn't have a coat. "Aren't you cold?" I let go of her hand to rub my palms up and down her arms through her sweater.

  "Nope," she says, shakin’ her head and makin’ her hair bounce in that same tauntin’ way. Since there's no one to stop me from touchin’ her tonight, I thread my fingers past her ear and through the back of her beautiful chestnut locks, tiltin’ her head so I have full access to her lips. Lips that part on a gasp before I lean down and cover them with mine. When I stroke my tongue over hers, we both moan into each other’s mouths before a frenzy ignites between us. I grab a handful of her ass, yankin’ her to me at the same time both of her cool, soft palms sneak underneath my jacket and shirt. Goosebumps ripple through me followin’ her caress up my abs, spannin’ over my chest and then comin’ back down again. Instead of stoppin’ at the waistband, she grabs a large handful of cock through my jeans to go along with a heapin’ side of balls.

  "Holy fuck," I groan as I swell to epic proportions in her hand. A second later, when the wonderful pressure disappears, I almost cry.

  "Shit!" Mandy exclaims. "That's Mason's intro!"

  Over the loud protest of my cock, I faintly hear what sounds like a 50 Cent and Lil' Kim song playin’ in the background. Oh, the irony.

  "Um, okay." I laugh, then have to clear my throat as I reach down to adjust my now very hard and noticeable Cock Ness Monster. "So, Magic Stick is your brother's intro song?" I ask.

  "Yes," she says, coverin’ her face with her palms. "And I really don't want to think too much on his choice. I tell myself he just likes the catchy tune and that all of his many female fans are still virgins. Please don't ruin that perfect world fantasy for me."

  I know where she's comin’ from. Even though my sister is two years older than me, I still like to think Hailey lives the life of a nun. It's just easier that way.

  "Guess we better get back in, huh?" I say, unable to hide my disappointment.

  "Yeah, sorry," she says, slidin’ the hands coverin’ her face down and flashin’ me a gorgeous smile. "But I promise to make it up to you later when you, um, come in my mouth."

  Holy. Fuck.

  Her offer of a blowjob leaves my cock feelin’ like a magic stick...of dynamite that's ready to explode. In. Her. Fuckin’. Mouth.

  Grabbin’ her hand, I drag her back around the entrance at the front of building since the door we came from was exit only. There's no longer a bouncer standin’ around since this is the last fight of the night.

  "I really hope your brother has a first round knockout," I tell Mandy over my shoulder as we rush back to the cage. "Within the first five seconds."

  She laughs as we make our way to our seats. Mason is already in the center of the cage by that time. It's obvious that the kid is the crowd favorite in this fight, based on the excited hoots and hollers. That's probably why they saved him for last. He has a natural stage presence, even makin’ me laugh with his ridiculous, male stripper dancin’ antics that has women screamin’ their heads off. With a few rolls of his hips, he owns the cage and probably the phone numbers of more than half the women in the building. I just hope he can back up that arrogance with his fists.

  Mandy tenses up and stops breathin’ beside me when the intro song goes off and the announcer standin’ in the cage with a mic goes over Mason Reed's stats and intro. Her brother is fightin’ at middleweight, one-hundred eighty-five pounds tonight and he's several inches taller than me at six-four. The boy's record stands at sixteen wins and only three losses, which is decent, but it means that he fights all the damn time, without adequate time to rest and recover since he's so young to have accumulated so many bouts. Probably because he desperately needs whatever scraps they pay him to keep takin’ beatings. Tonight, his opponent is shorter and thicker than him, but doesn't look like he's in as good of shape as Mace. This guy definitely won't have the taller man's reach advantage, which will likely mean he'll get hit a helluva lot more times than the number of blows he lands on Mace.

  Mandy's on the edge of the seat as soon as the bell rings, yellin’ out encouragement to her younger brother. I'm surprised and impressed by how much she knows about the different MMA moves and lingo. Unfortunately, her brother's youth immediately shows in the cage. He's way too cocky, walkin’ into his opponent's swings, tryin’ to get in his own instead of waitin’ for the openings with his superior reach. That mistake finally costs him when he takes an uppercut to his left side, right on the ribs. Seein’ her brother injured, Mandy gas
ps, and then grabs my knee, diggin’ her nails in reflexively. I cover her hand with mine, givin’ it a supportive squeeze.

  I have to admit that Mace is pretty damn tough. He recovers quickly from the rib hit, and throws a few of his own body shots that land. When one of his jabs to the chin throws his opponent off balance, Mace shoots in. Grabbin’ the other man's legs, Mace takes him down to the canvas. After that, it's a cakewalk when Mace easily mounts the guy's wide open back. He maneuvers into a perfect but brutal rear naked choke hold. Within seconds, the submission gives Mace the win. The ref calls the fight and Mandy jumps to her feet, cheerin’ for her brother along with the whole warehouse full of people.

  I glance over at Senn while Mandy's still standin’, tiltin’ my head toward the cage to silently ask what he thinks of Mace's performance. He gives a quick nod of agreement, confirmin’ what I thought. Mace has some pretty decent potential, not just as a fighter but as an entertainer, which is always what the IFC looks for when signin’ new blood. Not only do you have to kick ass in the cage, but you have to do it in a way that gets people talkin’ and watchin’. I feel a little better knowin’ that Senn agrees with me, since his opinion has nothin’ to do with the fact that he's desperate for a chance to keep seein’ the fighter's sister.

  As soon as Mace's arm is raised as the winner, he celebrates with a group of guys who, at first glance, look up to no good. With neck tattoos, face piercings, and thick coats that are probably hidin’ weapons, the group puts off a clear gangster vibe of "Fuck the world", which might be a problem for Mace in the IFC if he already has a criminal record. A few seconds later, the fighter comes over to hug his sister, who is only about half his size.

  "Well?" Mace asks. He’s still sweaty, bloody, and breathin’ hard from exertion. He steels his jaw, attemptin’ to hide his desperation for my approval, but it doesn’t work. Shit, I know how important an opportunity like this is to a young guy like him. It's everything to the kid, and an easy thing for me to do to give him a shot. Even if he wasn't Eve Kelly's brother, I think he has potential since he’s a pretty decent striker and has a good ground game. He’s worth what little risk there is for me to pay his way.