by York, Marie
It was nothing short of sweet victory. I pulled back and rested my forehead against hers. “I love you.”
She smiled against my mouth. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 38
Nixon
Beckham gave me a ride to my parents’ house and waited in the car. I had no intention of staying there more than a few seconds, just enough time to throw the money at them and to get the fuck out of there.
I opened the door, and was surprised they hadn’t changed the locks on me. I stormed into the house with determination and intention. My lip curled in disgust at the pictures of my sister that lined the hallway. It was like a fucking shrine. There was only one of me in a pair of plaid overalls when I was one. It was before I could talk, and probably when my parents actually gave a shit about me.
My parents were in the kitchen, and I wished I had a fucking camera for when I walked into the room. The shock and disbelief on their faces was priceless.
“Nixon, what are you doing here?” Dad asked me, not even bothering to look at me, as he folded his newspaper, and stood from the kitchen table. “Your mother and I were just heading out.”
I scoffed at the blatant push off. They hadn’t seen me in a year, and instead of welcoming me home, they acted like I was an inconvenience. It only made what I had to do that much easier.
I threw the envelope at Dad’s chest. “Here’s your fucking money. Now, I never want to hear from you ever again.”
Dad stared at me for a moment before opening the envelope and fanning through the bills with his thumb. Shock flashed in his eyes, but quickly dissolved. “Did you start selling drugs?” he asked in all seriousness.
“You’re un-fucking-believable, you know that.”
“If it’s dirty money, I don’t want it,” he sneered, and there was nothing I wanted more than to smack the look of distaste off his face.
“It’s not dirty. Someone who actually believes in me took a chance on me, and I didn’t let her down. So, there’s your money. My debt is paid. I never want to see either of you ever again.”
Mom placed down her coffee mug, and stood from the table. “Nixon, that’s not what our intention was.”
“I don’t give two shits about what your intentions were. I guarantee that if perfect Kennedy dropped out of school to follow her dreams, you wouldn’t send her a fucking bill in the mail. You would pat her on her shoulder, and tell her that whatever she wants to do, you’ll support her because she’s so fucking perfect, and nothing she does is wrong.”
“Having the crap beat out of you is not a dream!” my father yelled.
I laughed. “First of all, I don’t get the crap beat out of me. But you wouldn’t know that because you never even cared to show up to a single fight.”
“Why would I want to go watch some barbarian act? It’s an embarrassment to this family.”
“Lucky for you, I’m no longer a part of this family.”
I stormed off, and didn’t bother looking back. Everything behind me was my past, and it didn’t have a place in my future. I was finally free of my parent’s judgment and disappointment. Released from their ridiculous standards. Nothing tied me to them any longer, and it felt really fucking good.
Epilogue
Nixon
I rolled over and hooked my arm around Brooklyn’s waist, pulling her to me. With a smile, she swatted at my hand and held her finger up to tell me to wait a second. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t known for my patience.
“Dad, I really can’t wait to see you. I know it’s been way too long,” she said into the phone, and the happiness radiating off of her was turning me on.
I slipped my hand under her tank top, and rolled her nipple between my fingers while I kissed a line from her shoulder to her neck. She smelled so fucking good, and even though we had sex twice last night, when we first arrived at the hotel, and then later when I woke her up in the middle of the night, I was still raring to go again. Actually, when it came to Brooklyn, I was always raring to go.
I sucked on the sensitive spot in the crook of her neck, the one that always got her wet, and her eyes slowly closed as she allowed herself to get lost in the moment. The tiniest of moans slipped from her lips, and she slapped a surprised hand over her mouth.
She gave me the evil eye as she jumped up from the bed and said goodbye to her dad.
“You,” she said as she hung up the phone. “Are in trouble, mister.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She pushed on my shoulders, forcing me down to the mattress as she straddled me. Her nipples were hard as rocks, and poking through her thin top. I sat up, and sucked on one through the material.
Her head fell back, and this time she let the moans flow freely. I didn’t waste any time stripping her shirt off, and burying my face in her gorgeous tits.
She tugged at my hair, and I shook my head. Her grip tightened and she pulled harder, bringing my mouth to hers. I used to hate making out, and now it was all I ever wanted to do. It was a craving I could never satisfy, but I sure loved every second I tried. She kissed me hard and then brushed her lips against my ear. “You have a fight to get ready for. And, since it’s going to be televised, you might want to spend some time primping,” she joked.
“Why would I do that when I can do this?” I thrust my cock deep inside of her. Skirts were so convenient, and I took advantage every time she wore one now.
She gasped and dug her nails into my back as she grinded against me, falling into a perfect rhythm.
It had been a long road, and along the way there had been many wins, but there were also many losses. Losses that I was grateful for. It showed me the truth.
Fighting and Brooklyn were all I needed in my life.
The End
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~ Keep reading for an excerpt from Hooked on You ~
Chapter 1
Knox
Strip clubs were not my idea of a good time. Some poor pathetic girl letting horny bastards drool all over her, just so she could make a few bucks, was more pitiful than anything. Besides, I didn’t need to pay to have a girl get me all worked up. I’d rather fuck something for free. And I could, with whoever I wanted. All I had to do was say when and where. Girls flocked to me and practically begged me to stick my cock inside them. But not tonight. Tonight, my friends and I were celebrating and, for them, strip clubs were Disney World to their inner child. I couldn’t deny them that especially because they all just collected a shit ton of money because of me.
I just won my fifth consecutive fight, making me undefeated. Not that I ever had a single doubt. I was the king of the UFC, and the one who brought it from the underground to the forefront of Vegas. It was bigger than boxing now, and billionaires were coming out from all corners of the world to bet on and against me.
“Get this man a drink,” Sebastian, my best friend from childhood and a self-made billionaire, said to the bartender as we walked past to our table. He smacked my shoulder. “I don’t give a shit if you don’t drink anymore. You’re drinking tonight!” He sat down at the table, his back to the almost naked girl on stage. Like me, this wasn’t his scene either. At least, not since he got engaged to Annabelle.
“Look at those titties,” Julius said, waving hundred-dollar bills like they were singles. At twenty-four years old, he was the highest paid NBA player and worth every fucking penny. He played like Mike Jordan and partied like Lil’ Wayne.
He didn’t stop at our table. Instead, he beelined it right to the stage, where the blonde bent over, shaking her ass in his face, then pulled at the side of her g-string. He reached up and slipped a hundred into the tiny piec
e of material. As a thank you, the girl turned around and stripped her top off, grabbing the back of his head, and pressing his face into her tits.
She let his head go and he turned around with the biggest fucking grin on his face. Marco, on break from filming his latest action movie, went up to Julius and high-fived him. They were the two biggest perverts I ever met, but they were good people.
A waitress in a red and black corset, skimpy black shorts, and fishnets stopped at our table. She bent over, reaching for a napkin, her tits practically exploding from her top. Sebastian didn’t even bat an eye, but Marco and Julius who had finally joined us ogled her like she was their next meal.
“First round is on the house, compliments of the owner,” she nodded behind her to a fat guy with a pinky ring, then brought a tray around with four glasses and a bottle of Cristal.
I grabbed a glass and held it up in the owner’s direction to show my appreciation, though I knew damn well he just won twenty-grand because of me. The least he could do was buy me and my friends a few drinks.
Marco stood up with his glass. “To Knox, the baddest mother fucker in the country.”
We clinked our glasses and, when Marco sat down, the waitress parked her ass on his lap. He was a regular here when he was in town, and the poor sap loved to pamper these girls. And they knew it. They worked him like a fucking porn star worked a dick, milking him dry. He might have won a shit ton of money tonight, but, by daybreak, it would all be gone.
The waitress waved a brunette over who wrapped herself around Julius.
The music changed and the stage lights dimmed. Sebastian got up to take a call—the man never stopped working—and so, with Marco and Julius busy, I turned my attention to the stage.
My eyes settled first on sky high heels and traveled up long beautiful legs to a plaid skirt that stopped just beneath her ass. She bent over and revealed two perfect cheeks that were begging to be spanked.
Confidence poured out of her as she strutted down the stage, and stopped right in front of me. She winked at me, her green eyes flirty and intense as she dropped to her knees, giving me a little show before standing back up.
She ran her hands up her legs, across her flat stomach to the sliver of white material knotted in the front. Her fingers worked the knot effortlessly and she shed the top. Her tits were big, but unlike most of the girls here, I didn’t think they were fake. They were the best-looking tits I’d ever seen and I had seen a lot.
My dick throbbed in my pants, and I leaned back in my chair as she took to the pole. Her blonde hair, parted into two pigtails, spun with her, but unlike her tits, I didn’t think it was real. Still, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of her.
The skirt came off next, and she was left standing in a tiny white g-string that I wanted to rip off of her with my teeth. She was perfection on that stage. Her skin glowed beneath the spotlight as she finished her routine.
A guy on the other side of the stage whistled and she backed her ass up to him. His greedy hand reached out to grab her, and she moved away, waving a disapproval finger at him. He held up a lousy five dollar bill, and she spun back around and held the string out in his direction.
Once again he tried to cop a feel, but she was quick. In the corner, a wall of a man started making his way over, but she held him off with a look. It was clear the girl could handle herself.
I felt a smack to my shoulder, but didn’t glance away. “Oh, yeah, he likes her,” I heard Julius say.
I managed to shake the trance I was in, and swiveled in my chair away from the stage. “Just something to look at,” I uttered and took a swig of the Cristal.
“Yeah okay,” Marco said with way too much sarcasm. “And you just read Playboy for the articles, right?”
“What’d I miss?” Sebastian asked as he slid into his seat, adjusting his tie that probably cost more than the bottle of Cristal.
It was perfect timing on his part, and I went to change the topic of conversation when Julius beat me to it. “Knox over here has a major chubby for one of the strippers.”
I laughed. “Far from it.”
Sebastian laughed with me. He’d known me the longest. Fifteen years, and he knew damn well I didn’t get hung up on girls. They were good for a fuck or two, but, other than that, I couldn’t be bothered with them.
Julius whispered into the waitress’s ear and she got up, running a finger down his jaw. “I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, she returned with the schoolgirl. I gave Julius a dirty look, but he couldn’t care less as the waitress settled back into his lap.
The schoolgirl held her hand out to me. “Let’s go, handsome.” Her voice was silky smooth and, even though she only said three words, I could tell she meant business.
“Where we going?” I asked, staring down at her waiting hand.
She leaned toward me, brushing her perfect tits against my arm. She smelled so fucking good. Too good for a girl who took her clothes off for a living. Her lips grazed my ear, her breath warm against my skin. “What’s the fun in telling you?”
“I don’t know what my boys told you, but I’m good.” I shifted because, despite my words, my dick was straining hard against my jeans.
Her eyes leveled with mine. “Too bad for you, they already paid and I don’t do refunds.” She grabbed my hand and yanked me up from my chair. She might have been a little thing, but the girl was not weak. Her teeth slid out over her pouty bottom lip. “I don’t bite. Promise.”
I smirked. “What if I wanted you to?”
“Only time will tell.” She winked a green eye at me, and pulled me toward a back room.
Chapter 2
Mila
I swayed my hips as I guided my newest client to the backroom. His friend paid three hundred dollars over my usual price, and I was going to make sure he got his money’s worth. I didn’t take handouts, and I sure as hell wouldn’t take money without working for it.
Sergio stood guard at the door, and I gave him the look that told him he didn’t need to follow us inside. He nodded in understanding, but stayed in his spot outside the door. One scream and he would barge in. But, for some reason in my gut, I knew with this guy that would never happen.
I pushed opened the door, and shoved him onto the soft black leather couch. He fell into the cushions and laughed. “I like a girl who knows what she wants,” he said. “So, what’s your name?”
He smirked, and it only made him that much hotter. “Starr,” I said with a wink.
“Your name is about as fake as your hair.”
I tried not to focus on his good looks, or the fact that his body was as hard as rocks. He was a customer, and I didn’t tell customers my real name.
Besides, I wasn’t here for the small talk. I was here to do my job, so I kicked my leg over his thigh, and shimmied my ass down into his lap. The bulge in his pants was as hard as the rest of him. I rubbed my ass into it, and could tell he was well endowed. I continued to grind myself against him and found that I was enjoying it way more than I should have been.
Usually, when I gave lap dances, the guys weren’t allowed to touch me, but I had an overwhelming desire to feel his hands on my body. This guy was getting to me in a way I never allowed. Disregarding my self-imposed rules, I wrapped my fingers around his wrists, and brought his hands to my bare hips. His hands were big, and looked swollen and cut up. I knew he was a fighter and that was apparent from the condition of his hands and the other cuts and bruises that were visible on the rest of him. When he touched my hips, I could feel the roughness of his skin, but also a gentleness that surprised me.
He was hesitant at first. It was obvious this wasn’t his first rodeo. He knew the rules, but, lucky for him, I was willing to break them. “Don’t be shy,” I said, and his fingers tightened on my sides.
I rested a hand on his shoulder and grinded against him as I bent back, thrusting my tits into his face. The blonde pigtails swayed as I did, and I really wished I could rip the damn wig o
ff. But it was part of my act tonight, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction in knowing he was right.
To him, all I was and all I ever would be was Starr, the innocent schoolgirl with a naughty side. He didn’t need to know that once the sun made its ascent into the horizon, the wig would be gone and I’d be Mila: a twenty-five-year-old brunette, and the sole caretaker of a sixteen-year-old.
I turned my back to him, and brought my arm up, snaking it around his neck as I let my ass do all the work. He groaned, and his cock continued to swell and throb beneath me. I knew I was doing my job and making all the right moves.
For thirty minutes, I continued to rub and grind my ass and tits against his hard body giving him the best lap dance I had ever given. My body got so into it that I nearly brought myself to orgasm from the friction. Once I was satisfied, and knew he got his money’s worth, I ended it with a quick kiss on his cheek.
I got up and went to walk away when his hand latched onto my wrist. There was no threat there, so I glanced down at his tight hold and lifted an eyebrow in his direction.
He had sweat beaded on his forehead, and I was happy to know I wasn’t the only one hot and bothered. “You going to tell me your name now?”
I swallowed down the desire to be honest and smiled. “I already did.”
He stood up from the couch, and brushed a fake blonde strand back into place. “You told me a bullshit name. I’m asking for your real name.”
Nothing here was real. Everything that happened inside these walls was a façade, and the reason it worked was because I never thought differently. I let guys buy me drinks, even fucked them, but I never revealed the real me. Once they knew the real me, the fantasy was gone. I needed to keep my two worlds separate from one another. Yeah, this guy was hot and I could think of a lot of things that I would like to do with him, but there was no way in hell I could let that happen. I took a deep breath, remembering why I was even here in the first place.