“DAD! I’m not discussing sex with you!” I yell, trying to reel him back in. “He knows I have no clue about MMA. Zander actually said it makes him like me more. But the fact that you care this much is freaking me the fuck out, so please, by all means go get your guns. I’ll make him pick me up here.” I’ll do anything to erase the last five minutes. Who stole my dad and turned him into a fangirl?
“Sorry sweetie, I needed to get that out of my system. Let’s watch some football to keep my mind off of your date…and FYI, a rear naked choke isn’t a sex position. It’s a submission hold.” He starts watching the football game and mumbles, “fucking Cheryl and her sex shit,” and all is once again right with the world.
I shoot a look over to Ashlyn that says I’m going to kick the shit out of you later, which she doesn’t acknowledge as she sits there with stars in her eyes. I think they’re more excited for this than I am. I go back to watching the football game to take my mind off of Zander, and it helps a little, but not much. I can’t wait until eight o’clock gets here.
***
We get into Ashlyn’s car and head home. I’m on a high leaving my dad’s house because our boys won! When we arrive and walk up to the house, we notice a giant bouquet of flowers on the front steps outside the door.
“Someone’s trying to get laiiiiddd!” Ashlyn sings, and I notice our elderly neighbor outside on her front porch. I give her a wave and shrug my shoulders; I’ve stopped explaining her behavior to people a long time ago.
I pick up the beautiful arrangement and walk into the house. When I put them down on the kitchen counter, I grab the card that’s inside and read it.
Can’t wait for tonight, beautiful. –Z
This guy seems too good to be true, and I voice that much to Ashlyn.
“Not too good to be true, Sav. The guys you’ve brought around have been losers because you set your sights too low, thinking you can’t do any better. Well, now you have Zander freaking Cage sending you flowers. Do you still think he’s out of your league?”
I know what she’s saying is true. I just have to give this time and see what happens.
“All right, it’s currently five o’clock, and I need to jump in the shower. Can you start going through my closet to see what I should wear?”
I should have known I would regret asking for help.
CHAPTER 5
I start making my way to the gym at 7:40 p.m. It took Ashlyn and me an absurd amount of time to decide what I was going to wear. Mostly, it was just us arguing over the fact that she kept trying to put me in dresses that would show my family secrets if I bent down. After explaining to her that I wanted him to like me for me, not someone she thought he wanted me to be, she finally conceded. I was finally ready to leave when we decided on a pair of skinny jeans, a pink sweater, and my Converse shoes. I figured it was casual enough for a gym date but not too casual that he would think I’m a slob.
When I round the corner of the street the gym is on, I see his truck pull up to the curb. God, that truck. I want to do bad things to him in that truck.
He notices I’m here when he gets out and makes his way over to me. He’s wearing his usual wardrobe of jeans and a t-shirt, but this time with no baseball hat. It’s the first time I’ve seen him without it, and if it’s possible, he’s even sexier. His hair is shaved close on the sides and a bit longer on top, which makes me want to run my fingers through it. Pull it even.
Zander engulfs me in a hug when he gets to me, and holy mother of god does he smell great. He gives great hugs, the type that makes you feel warm and protected, and it has me thinking about what else he does well.
“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a ride? I would have picked you up,” he says next to my ear. After pulling back from the hug, he puts his arm around my shoulders and starts walking us toward the front door.
“You’ve seen where I live. It’s a mile away, and I always walk to work.”
“Well, it’s late out, and I’d hate to think of you walking so late by yourself. Promise me you’ll call me if you need a ride.” He turns to face me. “I mean it, I don’t care if it’s one in the morning and you just got out of work.” Is this guy for real? I’ve never had anyone but my dad and Ashlyn worry about me, and we literally just met.
“Most of the time Ashlyn walks home with me, so no worries. I always have a walking buddy.” I try to make a joke out of it to lighten the mood.
“We’ll talk about this later.” he says, putting his arm back around my shoulders as we walk through the entrance.
I look around when we get in, and it looks fantastic. It’s nowhere near the disaster zone I was expecting it to be. I don’t see any power tools in sight, only a giant cage in the center of the building with a whole bunch of different workout equipment scattered throughout the rest of the area. There are lots of mats all over the floor and a reception desk off to the right when you first enter.
“Wow, this looks pretty intimidating, especially that cage thingy. Do you wrestle in there?”
His shoulders are shaking, and I know he’s laughing at what I just said. “That cage thingy is called the octagon, and we don’t wrestle. We fight.”
“Well then, teach me your ways, Mr. MMA.” I smack him on the shoulder to try and get him to stop laughing.
“Sorry, sorry. Like I said, I don’t come across a lot of people who don’t know about what I do. MMA stands for mixed martial arts, and it’s fighting in a couple of different styles. Some of those styles are boxing, kickboxing, karate, jiu-jitsu, and a couple others. I fight in a popular MMA league, and I’ve got a fight every eight months or so.”
“When’s your next fight?” I ask, thinking it must be pretty far out since he’s spending his time opening this gym.
“In four weeks, I’m fighting for the Light Heavyweight Championship title in Vegas. This will be the biggest fight of my career to date.” He says it with a shrug of his shoulders, like it’s not a big deal. I would be freaking out if I was that close to the biggest fight of my life.
“Why are you so calm? You should be training!” I punch him in the arm as he laughs at me. “I should go home so you can train.” I mean it…I should leave. People idolize this guy, and I can’t be a distraction.
“Hold up there, Rambo. I have been training. You can’t train around the clock, otherwise you risk getting injured. I need to give my muscles some time to relax and enjoy the fruits of my labor.” He winks at me and raises his arm, flexing his bicep.
My mouth goes dry. I don’t think I have ever dated someone as gorgeous as Zander. I’ve definitely never dated anyone whose body’s been on the cover of a fitness magazine. The guys I’ve dated weren’t two-baggers by a long shot, but they were nowhere near his league. I can only imagine what he looks like with his shirt off and make plans to search the internet later.
“Put those guns away, big boy, before you hurt yourself. So, why did you want to bring me here?” I need to change the subject away from his muscles before I need a new pair of panties.
“I wanted to show you what I do. I also want to show you I’m not a douchebag, which is what I would’ve looked like taking you to a fancy restaurant.” He’s right. I’m liking him more and more, and I know I’m in big trouble.
“I’m not a fancy girl anyways. Give me some good food and a beer and I’m happy.” He walks over to me, grabs my hand, and pulls me to the far side of the room. I don’t ever want him to let go.
“I’m glad you said that because I packed us a picnic.” I look to where there’s a basket and a folded blanket on the table in front of us. I’m in awe. He must have set this up earlier. Nobody’s ever packed me a picnic before, and it’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. “You packed me a picnic?” I ask when we stop. “You’re really pulling out the big guns, huh?”
He grabs the basket and blanket without letting go of my hand and walks me toward the workout equipment. We enter the octagon, and the thrill of being in here takes flight. If he feels half
of what I’m feeling now, he must get one hell of an adrenaline rush being in one of these things with thousands of fans cheering him on.
Zander lays out the blanket and puts the picnic basket down. Pulling me close, he puts his hands around my waist. “I was challenged to woo you, baby. Did I pass the test?”
I like him calling me baby more than I should, and I need to slow down my hormones before I jump him. This is only our first date, and in the back of my mind, I’m still thinking about all the supermodels he’s dated. I’m trying not to, I really am. It’s just so hard not to compare myself to them.
“Why did you get so serious all of a sudden?” he asks me. He must see it written all over my face, and I suddenly feel the need to come clean about researching him on the internet.
“I may have done an internet search on your name last night. My friend was gushing about you and what a big deal you are, so I felt like I had to see what I was getting into. I got to look through page after page of supermodels on your arm. I was just thinking you may be wooing me, but I really need to step up my game to make an impression on you.” I look down at my hands. I can’t believe I’m being this honest with him, but I feel like I need to be straightforward.
Putting two fingers under my chin, he lifts it and looks in my eyes. “I’m not going to lie, when I first got into fighting I took what was thrown at me. I was with a lot of women, and I went to lots of parties, but when I realized I was going somewhere in this business, it really had me thinking. I didn’t want any of that to be what I’m known for. I want to be known for who I am in the octagon, not in the tabloids. I stopped partying and dating easy women and focused more on my career. Now here I am, about to be in the biggest fight of my career.” He stares into my eyes, and I can see the sincerity of his words.
“Why me, then? Why add a distraction when you have the biggest fight of your life coming up?” It’s a legit question, and I won’t be the reason he loses. This man is a hero to many, including my dad.
“I just know that if I don’t pursue this—you—I’ll regret it.”
Then he goes in for the kiss, taking my breath away. His lips meet mine, and I know this is the kiss, the one that changes everything. He runs his tongue along the seam of my lips, begging for entry, and I open my mouth willingly. His tongue dives in as he devours me whole, and I kiss him just as passionately back. I slide my fingers into his hair, trying to pull him closer. This feels so right. I have to squeeze my legs together to stifle the ache that’s building as his hands slide down and cup my ass. This kiss is everything. I work my hands down to the bottom of his shirt and place my hands on the bare skin of his stomach. I don’t realize when a moan slips out of my mouth. He pulls back, leaving just our foreheads touching, while we both gasp for air.
“Wow…” That’s all I have. I’ve never been kissed like that before. He doesn’t know it, but he just ruined me for all other men.
“Wow,” he says back.
“Can I just see something really quick?” I ask.
He nods, and I waste no time lifting the t-shirt over his head. I stare at his body for what feels like an hour but really, it’s just minutes. It’s even better than I thought it’d be. He has strong, muscular arms wrapped in ink, a defined chest, a slim waist with a sexy as hell six pack, and holy shit—he has a V. You know, the two dips on either side of a man’s waist that leads down into his jeans. I hope to god I’m not drooling.
I look up into his eyes. “I told myself I would do a search to see what you were hiding under your shirt later, but I figured YOLO and seized the moment.” I give him a shy smile and look at the ground.
He starts laughing. “Well? Do I measure up to what you’ve fantasized about?” It’s the first moment I sense uncertainty in his eyes. He wants to impress me.
“Assuming I actually fantasize about your hot, sexy bod…” I let my gaze linger over his chest before meeting his eyes once again. “Yes. You, Mr. Cage, are...” A rush of air expels from my lips. “You’re definitely something to write home about.”
He clears his throat as if he’s slightly uncomfortable, and I’d be worried if he didn’t have a satisfied smile on his lips.
“Let’s get some food, gorgeous.” He puts his shirt back on, and I can’t help but feel disappointed; something so beautiful should never be covered up. He sees me watching him and winks, which causes me to shrug my shoulders. After we sit down, he pulls out a couple of sandwiches, a salad, some fruit, water, and a bottle of wine.
“I should start by saying I’m on food restriction being this close to the fight.” He reaches over and grabs the salad. “This is mine. I picked up a couple sandwiches figuring you can pick the one you like, and the wine is also for you. My trainer will kick my ass if I drink anything other than water up until the fight.”
“Wow, I don’t know if I could last that long. Four weeks on salad?” I laugh as I pick the turkey and cheese sandwich with some fruit. I look over to him and see he’s wolfing down his salad with no salad dressing. It has me scrunching up my nose in disgust.
“What? Do I have something on my face?”
“Who the hell doesn’t eat dressing on their salad? You can’t trust a person that goes in dry.” I laugh at my own joke.
“Hey, there’s chicken in here too! My nutritionist gives me a very strict list of what to eat and when. I do as I’m told, and it usually works out in the end, the end being annihilating my opponent. Plus, it’s only when I’m preparing for a fight. Most fighters start watching what they eat closer to the fight, but this has always worked for me. And Savvy…” He gives me a cocky smile. “I never go in dry.” He dives back into his salad, exaggerating each bite he takes.
And I just came. Sweet mother of pearl…there’s no coming back from that comment, so I chuckle and try to play it off. “A nutritionist. I didn’t know I was dining with the rich and famous. I would have worn my tiara.” Even I can hear the huskiness in my voice.
“That’s right. I can’t impress you with my celebrity status, not that having a nutritionist is a big splurge. Lucky for you, I couldn’t care less about it. And for what it’s worth, I think you look beautiful. I love that you could care less about materialistic things.”
“You already impress me without even knowing about that part of your life. I can’t picture you being like that, driving around in a Ferrari and making it rain at the club. And for the record, I am a female, so I definitely love some materialistic things. Look at these shoes. Sixty bucks! I, too, am a big spender.”
“I don’t know if I can compete with that kind of money, Ms. Jenks,” he says on a laugh. “And let me set the record straight. I don’t make it rain in the club. What celebrities are you reading about? I’m a fighter, not a rapper.” He laughs at me.
“You seem wicked young to be so accomplished. How old are you?”
“First off, your Boston accent is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m 26 and can say the same about you. You own a successful bar at the ripe age of…”
“I’m 24, but if it wasn’t for my aunt leaving it to me after she passed away, I don’t think I’d be where I am right now.” It’s the truth. I don’t know where I would be if I hadn’t inherited her shop and turned it into my dream.
We continue to eat while talking, and I learn that he visits his mom as much as possible. When he decided to move to Massachusetts, he bought her a house so she could move up here too. He has three younger brothers who are all currently tying up loose ends so they can head this way as well. His dad died when he was young, which makes me feel comfortable telling him about my mom since it is just another thing we had in common. He also has a dog named Daisy, who you can tell from the way he talks about her, he loves so much. The more I find out about him, the more I realize I may be in over my head. He’s way too good to be true.
I look at the clock and realize it’s past midnight. “Where did the time go?” I question around a yawn.
“Seems I lose track of time when I’m with you.�
� He laughs and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Saying that out loud sounded way cheesier than in my head. I swear, I’m a badass fighter.” He shakes his head slightly as he packs up the picnic basket and grabs the blanket. We exit the octagon and put everything back on the table.
“I hate to end this wonderful night, but I have training bright and early. I’ll drive you home. No girl of mine walks home at this hour.”
I roll my eyes but nod my head, smiling.
His girl.
***
We pull up to my house, and Zander cuts the engine. Without missing a beat, he drags me across the console to straddle his lap and slams his mouth against mine. This kiss has so much hunger and passion in it, and as his tongue enters my mouth, I moan. After a few seconds, I realize I’m sitting stunned and not participating. I start battling back lickety-split with my own tongue. Feeling bold, I bite his bottom lip, eliciting a growl from Zander that makes my panties wet.
I start to grind my hips into him and gasp loudly from the sensation. If what I feel is any indication, he’s massive. Thank god he wasn’t lying about the whole nine inches thing.
As I rock into him, his dick hits me right where I need it most. I can’t believe I’m dry humping him like a teenager, but I can’t help myself. It has been far too long since I’ve been with a man, and even then, it was mediocre at best. I moan out his name when he starts thrusting into me. I feeling the pressure build, and he knows I’m close by the frantic pace of my hips. Needing to quench this ache that’s continuing to grow, I arch my back away from the steering wheel.
Zander slowly starts lifting my sweater until it’s over my head and throws it in the back seat. There’s no way to describe how his hands feel on my bare skin. They’re hot to the touch as he continues moving them to brush just underneath my breasts. I moan again, urging him on, and he takes that as an invitation. One hand cups me, and then dips his head lower to bite my other nipple through the thin material of my bra. Never have I been more turned on in my life. Pulling the cups completely down, the cold air hits my sensitive flesh as he makes his way to my other breast while continuing to work the other with his hand. He circles his tongue around the tip and pulls it into his mouth, sucking hard. Holy shit! I’m not going to last much longer.
Bound By Cage Box Set (Complete Series Books 1-4) : MMA Romance Page 4