“I don’t have to.” That smolder might just do me in, up and walks to the door. I can’t help but stare at his ass. It looks perfect in his jeans, and I can picture my legs wrapped around his hips. As I look up, my eyes meet his. Busted! He winks at me, turns, and walks out the door.
Even when he’s out of view, I can’t stop thinking about him.
My hand still tingles from the feel of his lips, and I can’t wipe the smile from my face for the rest of the night.
CHAPTER 3
Ashlyn’s locking the door as I slide into my flip-flops. My feet are killing me! Saturday nights are our busiest, and I’m on my feet from when I take over the bar until closing time. Looking over to Ashlyn, I see she looks as tired as I feel.
“Were you as busy as I was?” I ask.
“Yup. What can I say? The people demand my food.” Her burgers are the best around. Hell, all of her food is the best around.
“When I peeked out, I noticed you talking to tall, dark, and sinful.” She waggles her eyebrows up and down. “Spill! What was going on? He looked like he wanted to eat you alive. And let’s just say you weren’t exactly subtle with your intentions either, Ms. Jenks. It was written all over your face how much you wanted to rip his clothes off and have your wicked way with him.”
“I don’t want to have my wicked way with him. Well… maybe a little,” I say, holding up my thumb and index finger close together.
“He’s an MMA fighter, and at first he came off all cocky, like he couldn’t believe I didn’t know who he was. But you know me, I don’t follow anything but football, so once we cleared that up he tried to prove he wasn’t a douche, and he kind of asked me out,” I say as a blush heats my face once again.
“You love him! Look, you’re blushing!” God, I want to kill her.
“I’m not in love, thank you very much, but I do like him. There’s just something about him, and I assume he’s going to be sticking around since he’s opening a gym next door to train people in…things. He’s just so beautiful, Ash, and he makes me feel so unhinged when I’m with him. You know it’s been forever since I’ve been out with someone.”
“I blame Aunt Cheryl. She taught you how to self-satisfy too much, and you’ve been content with your boring dating life, until now. I cannot wait to sit back with some popcorn and see you, Ms. Savannah Jenks, date Mr. MMA.” She starts dancing around the bar before halting and turning to face me. “Actually, he did look kind of familiar. What did you say his name was?”
“Don’t blame Aunt Cheryl, blame Luke.” I regret saying his name the moment it escapes my mouth. We don’t talk about him, ever. Trying to change the subject, I blurt out, “His name is Zander Cage.” Her eyes light up as she starts to bounce around.
“The Zander Cage? Hitman? The man that knocks out all his opponents and is now going for the Light Heavyweight Championship title in his next big fight?” Her excitement is making me nervous. If she knows who he is, then he must be a big deal.
“He’s a well-known fighter? No wonder he looked at me like I was crazy.” I take out my phone and pull up my internet search engine. I put his name in and wait for the search to load.
“Holy shit, there are like a million pictures of him!” I yell.
“Well duh, he’s the shit in the MMA world, and he’s still in his prime. I don’t know his whole story, only who he is because he’s sexy as hell and all over the tabloids.”
I scan the pictures on my screen; a lot of them are with beautiful supermodels. “How the hell can I compare to these women? Look! He dated Shelly Storms! Freaking Shelly Storms! I love her.” But now I secretly hate her. It’s like going from filet mignon to bologna, with me being the latter. What have I gotten myself into?
Ashlyn comes up to me, places her hands on my shoulders, and crouches to eye level. “He’s a big celebrity, so what? He dated a few supermodels and rubbed elbows with some elite members of society. You’re gorgeous, and if you let Zander pass you by, I’ll never forgive you. He could introduce me to Charlie Hunnam…” she says seriously.
I laugh. “All right, all right. I’ll give it a try, but I’m not promising anything. And he might not even know Charlie Hunnam since he’s a huge celebrity.”
She grabs my phone, types something in, and then points to a picture on the screen. Well, would you look at that? In the picture Zander is standing next to the one and only Charlie Hunnam, and they’re both laughing, probably about women or money if I had to guess.
“Holy shit. Why did you have to tell me he’s famous? Now I’m going to be nervous as hell and giggle the whole time. Remember that time I met that wrestler at the Emerald Square mall? He didn’t even wrestle anymore, and I couldn’t stop giggling like a schoolgirl!”
“You’ll be fine. You technically don’t personally know who he is as a celebrity, so push it out of your mind and don’t think about it. Just think of him as Zander: new potential boyfriend and boy toy. Easy-peasy.”
We lock up and start to walk home in companionable silence, which leaves me to play around with my thoughts. We’re about two steps away from the bar when a black F-150 pulls up to the curb next to us.
The passenger side window rolls down, and I lose all thought when I see Zander. “Ladies, can I offer you a ride home?”
I’m about to tell him we’re not actually far from home when Ashlyn starts walking to his truck.
“You sure can, big boy, but I won’t be the one that pays for the ride. Savvy, get in and give the man road head.” I’m used to her crude humor, but from the way Zander starts choking, I know she took him by surprise.
“Forgive my friend here, she thinks she’s funny.” I walk around and get into the front seat. I give him directions to our house, which only takes us three minutes to get to. Ashlyn jumps out like there’s a fire and runs into the house. Could this girl make my life any more awkward?
“Thanks for the ride, Hitman.”
“Been looking into me, have you? Do me a favor and don’t believe everything you read.”
“Actually, Ashlyn’s the one who told me you were this big shot celebrity. She knows quite a bit about you, but I’m hoping to learn more from the actual source.” I lean over the console and kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
***
Zander
As I watch Savannah walk into her house, I can’t help but think this girl has the potential to change my life. I’m not a sap, don’t get me wrong, but I can already tell there is something between us. Being a public figure—a celebrity, I guess you could say—I’ve had my fair share of bedmates through the years. Most of them were meaningless and left me feeling empty long after I left. Being in the limelight, women throw themselves at me left and right. After my first real fight, I partied hard to celebrate my first win and ended up in bed with three girls. I felt like a fucking king. Sudden popularity gives you a godlike complex I always thought I’d be immune to. My mama raised me right and made me work for everything I got in life. I never thought I’d become a piece of shit who would jump from bed to bed, fucking these women and leaving before they even caught their breath. I justified it to myself by saying they knew the score before we hit the sheets, that it was a one night, no strings attached situation. It wasn’t until my mom called me out about two years ago that I understood how much I changed. She stumbled into my apartment to find me passed out with a stripper. The place was a complete mess with liquor bottles and trash scattered everywhere, and there we were completely naked on the kitchen floor for anyone who walked in to see. The look of disappointment in my mom’s eyes that day gutted me, and I vowed that I would be a better person—do better so my mom would be proud of me.
Luckily, I’ve always been focused on my training, and the partying didn’t get in the way of slowly climbing up the ranks as a fighter. I’d cut women out when the fight got closer and would stop hitting the bottle hard. After reflecting on my first few years in the business, I realized what was truly important and began to cut out all of the neg
ative bullshit.
When I saw Savannah peeking through the window at my gym, seeing her innocent eyes taking in my body…damn. In that moment, I realized I was a goner. Those big, beautiful green eyes told so much; I can tell exactly what she’s thinking because they’re so expressive. I only meant to scare her to break the ice and invite her in because as soon as I noticed her snooping, I knew I had to talk to her. When I got outside and saw she was nowhere in sight, a wave of disappointment washed over me because I thought I blew my only chance. The thought of never seeing her again made my chest ache. Ridiculous, right? I didn’t even know her, and I was acting like I’d lost my long-lost lover.
When I walked into Monkey Bars and saw her slinging drinks, I practically dropped to my knees to praise Jesus. What were the odds that the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about worked right next door to me? I figured I’d talk to the owner quickly, then park myself at the bar to find out her name and hopefully ask her out. Finding out that she was the owner…Christ, that was a surprising revelation and sexy beyond belief. There’s nothing more attractive than a smart, independent woman.
Starting up my truck, I make my way home as thoughts of Savvy continue to consume my mind. I’ve never met anyone apart from my family who didn’t try to use me or my fame once they knew who I was. Who am I kidding? Most people know who I am. That’s not coming from a cocky playboy, it’s just a fact. That’s one of the things I love about moving up here: nobody bothers me. I can go for a run and actually finish it without being chased down by a mob of groupies. When you start making bank, people you haven’t seen in forever start to appear out of the woodwork. Everyone needs something, whether it be money, an in to a party, or just to say they fucked a fighter. I learned really fast to tell them all to screw off. Savannah is definitely different, I can feel it in my gut. She seems genuinely interested in getting to know me and fuck, when she put me in my place with that sassy attitude, my dick got so fucking hard. She’s definitely a feisty little thing, and I love that I can make her blush.
I walk into my house and am greeted by my little girl, Daisy, a pudgy little basset hound who’s like a child to me. I give her belly rubs before I let her outside to do her business. Heading for the fridge, I pull out a meal and start thinking of a plan to convince Savannah to give me a shot; a real, honest to god, fighting chance. She doesn’t seem like the type who would go for an expensive dinner, and thank Christ for that. High maintenance girls are nothing but trouble. Maybe if I text her tomorrow asking her to meet me at the gym, I can show her who I truly am. I want to show her what my world is really about instead of the assumptions I’m sure she’s going to get from the internet. Hell, if I were in her shoes, I’d research me too.
After letting Daisy inside, I decide that’s the best route to go with her, and fuck me if I don’t get hard thinking about her in the octagon with me. Nothing’s hotter than a woman in the ring. Yup, I’ll fuck her in the octagon someday. That image is making me hard as a rock.
Needing relief, I head upstairs to my bedroom and strip out of my clothes. Once I’m in bed, I imagine she’s with me, straddling my legs while hovering over my dick with those full, pink lips. As the movie plays out for me, I begin to pump my hand up and down, root to tip, as she bends over and takes me in her mouth. I imagine her sucking me off with that innocent expression on her face as she looks up at me…
“Fuckkkkk,” I moan out as I release into my hand.
That little fantasy had me coming faster than I’d like to admit. I lie back in bed and try to catch my breath. I reach over, grab my t-shirt, and wipe myself clean. I’ve never gotten so worked up over a woman before, let alone a woman I’ve only spoken to for a little over an hour. As I turn on my side, I grab my phone and shoot off a text to let her know I’m thinking of her. Sleep appears fast for me, and I dream of a set of big, beautiful green eyes staring up at me.
CHAPTER 4
“Fucking kill him!” my dad yells at the TV.
It’s football Sunday, and we’re watching our boys annihilate the other team, all while yelling at the TV and eating shit for food.
“You know, their asses look fantastic in those little pants,” Ashlyn says, getting an eye roll from dad. She loves to mess with him.
“Ashlyn, how many times have I told you to stop objectifying my team? They are men playing football. You should be yelling for them to get the fourth down, not talking about their asses in their little pants.”
I love Sundays. The three of us have been getting together for the Pats games for as long as I can remember. Just me and my two-favorite people. I’m watching Brady in the huddle as my phone chirps. I grab it and realize I have a new text, and when I see who it’s from, I spit the swig of beer I just took from my mouth.
My Sexy Fighter: Hey beautiful. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last night. What’re you doing?
Holy shit. He called me beautiful, and now I feel like a 13-year-old girl. I wipe my mouth and assure my dad I’m just fine before writing back.
Me: I should say I’m surprised you put your name under that, but that would be a lie. You are a cocky bastard, after all. ;) I’m at my dad’s for Sunday football, baby!
Before I have time to change my mind, I snap and send a selfie in my Pats jersey, holding up my beer.
My Sexy Fighter: Now that’s what I’m talking about, a beautiful girl who loves football! By the way, you look sexy as hell in your jersey, even though it should be a Texans jersey.
Me: I’m sorry, we can’t be friends anymore with our differing views on football teams. It was nice while it lasted.
My Sexy Fighter: Friends is the last thing I want to be with you, Savvy.
Before I can respond, he shoots me another text.
My Sexy Fighter: Meet me later.
A shiver works its way up my spine because I can hear him in my head saying those words as I read it.
Me: Hmm, I don’t know. Give me a good reason.
My Sexy Fighter: If I wasn’t a gentleman, I would say I’ve got nine inches of good reason. Since I am, I’ll say I can’t wait another day to see you.
Me: Good thing you’re a gentleman. Okay…just tell me when and where.
My Sexy Fighter: 8 p.m. at my gym.
Me: I’ll see you then. XO
“Why are you smiling like you just found out NSYNC’s back together?” Ashlyn says, interrupting my thoughts.
“No reason,” I lie.
She lunges for my phone, grabs it out of my hands, and runs for the bathroom, where she locks herself in. Shit! Why do I have slow-ass reflexes? She’s in there for a few minutes before she opens the door with the biggest smile on her face. She practically pummels me to the ground before releasing a girly squeal from her lips.
“One step closer to Charlie! Fuck yes!” She fist pumps the air.
“I’m glad my love life is getting you what you want. I’m not sure what we’re doing…” I bite my lip. “I don’t know how to dress. I don’t want to seem too eager and assume we’ll be going somewhere nice.” Truth is, I’m just a simple girl, and I don’t really like going to fancy places. It makes me uncomfortable when someone spends a lot of money on me.
“Eh, you have plenty of time. Let’s go finish watching those big burly men playing football, then we’ll figure it out.” Ashlyn’s always the voice of logic. We head back into the living room, and my dad eyes us skeptically while he cleans my spit off the floor and glares at me.
“What the hell was that show and dance about?”
I keep my mouth closed because my dad has never been thrilled with my dating life. He always gave my dates a hard time in high school. When a boy would pick me up, he’d make sure to put on a show of cleaning his guns at the kitchen table to scare them. Truth be told, it always made me laugh, even though I acted like I was angry. One time, when I was dropped off five minutes after curfew, I found him hiding behind a tree in his hunting gear with black makeup under his eyes, ready to scare my date. I think Jimmy ne
arly peed his pants.
Leave it to Ashlyn to open her big mouth. “Our little girl has a date tonight!”
My dad jumps out of his seat and yells, “I’ll go get my guns ready.”
Flying out of my seat, I go to chase him down. There will be none of that tonight! “No way, Dad. You haven’t seen one of my dates since I moved out, and tonight we’re not taking a trip down memory lane.”
He looks a little letdown; he used to live for this.
“Mr. J, you don’t want to ruin this date. Our girl here is going out with the Zander Cage.”
I growl in frustration. Sometimes I could just punch her in the tit.
“Hitman?” my dad asks with a hopeful tone that makes me whirl around and face him.
“The one and only.”
My dad gets an expression on his face that I never thought I’d see when talking about a date: excitement mixed with awe.
“It’s just our first date, and I don’t even know if it’s a date. I’m just meeting him at his new gym,” I try to explain. I need to take back control on this situation.
“WHAT?” he yells. “Zander Cage—Hitman—is opening a gym in my fucking town, and he’s taking my baby girl out on a date?” He goes and sits down, and he looks like he may pass out.
“I take it you’ve heard of him?” I ask warily.
My dad’s starting to scare me a little bit because he hasn’t showed this much emotion since the Pats won the Super Bowl last year, which is pretty much the only time he shows emotion.
“Heard of him? Heard of him?” he asks, getting louder. “That man is gearing up to be one of the greatest MMA fighters of all-time, and he’s going for the Light Heavyweight title during his next fight. This is huge, and he’s taking my baby out.” He points his finger at me. “You better not mess this up!” He gets up and starts pacing the floor. “You need to do some research on MMA. He’ll like that. You know jack shit about it, no matter how much I’ve tried over the years. Do you at least know what a rear naked choke is?”
Bound By Cage Box Set (Complete Series Books 1-4) : MMA Romance Page 3