Hook (Fighter Romance) (Las Vegas Series #1)

Home > Other > Hook (Fighter Romance) (Las Vegas Series #1) > Page 1
Hook (Fighter Romance) (Las Vegas Series #1) Page 1

by Marie York




  Hook

  A Las Vegas serial

  Marie York

  Contents

  Untitled

  Copyright

  1. Knox

  2. Mila

  3. Knox

  4. Mila

  5. Knox

  6. Mila

  7. Knox

  8. Mila

  9. Knox

  10. Mila

  11. Knox

  12. Mila

  13. Knox

  14. Mila

  15. Knox

  16. Mila

  17. Knox

  The End

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  About the Author

  Hook

  Book One in

  The Las Vegas Series

  By Marie York

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  Published by

  Marie York

  Copyright December 2015

  Cover Photo by fxquadro

  Cover Design by Gotcha Covered Designs

  Edited and Formatted by TCB Editing Services

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Chapter One

  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 bee lined 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 piece 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.r />
  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 Two

  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 off. 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.

  I was here to do a job, and make enough money to keep me and my sister off the streets.

  “Maybe it’ll help if you know mine. I’m Knox.”

  “I know who you are.” Who didn’t? He was a big deal in these parts. My boss bet a fucking fortune on him on his latest fight. I hadn’t watched it since it wasn’t my thing, but I was surprised he didn’t have a single mark on his gorgeous face. I guess there was a reason he was undefeated.

  “Well, that isn’t fair. Now you have to tell me.”

  “Why do you even want to know?”

  “Because something tells me that the woman behind this character you’re playing is much more interesting”,

  I laughed. “You have no idea.”

  I tapped on the door and Sergio opened it, eyeing Knox. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “Nope,” I said with a smile. “Just finished, that’s all.” I glanced over my shoulder to Knox. “Have a good night, handsome.” With another wink, I walked out of the backroom, leaving Knox to believe whatever he wanted.

  Chrissy came up to me as I made my way backstage. She was perky twenty-four seven, and I always wondered if she was naturally like that or if it was a side effect from some good drugs. “How’d it go?” she asked.

  She was a stripper with a dream of finding a man to take care of her. Hoping that one day her Prince Charming would stumble in here and they would share one look, sealing their futures together. I wasn’t that naïve. I knew a guy wasn’t the answer to my prayers.

  “I gave him exactly what he paid for.”

  “You could have gotten his number,” she stated like I was blind to the fact. “He was hot, and totally digging you. You should have went for it.”

  “Why? No offense, Chrissy, but we’re strippers. If guys wanted the real deal, they wouldn’t be in here. They come here to escape real life.” Her blue eyes went wide, and she looked like a wounded puppy. Dammit. Just because I refused to live in a fairy tale didn’t mean I had to ruin it for her. I rested a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean that,” I tried to reciprocate, but it was already too late. The damage was done.

  Chrissy straightened, and let out an agitated breath. “No, you did, but it’s okay.” She looked up smiling. “I’m getting used to you being a bitter bitch.”

  She was clearly joking, and we both laughed,
but, after she walked away, I couldn’t let the words go because, joke or not, she was right.

  Chapter Three

  Knox

  The makeup artist powdered my face, and did whatever else she had to do to get me camera ready. I had no idea what the makeup was actually for. I was shooting an ad for a new line of underwear. People weren’t going to be looking at my face. As long as my abs and dick looked good, it didn’t really matter what my face looked like.

  “I love your tattoos,” the girl said as she ran a finger across my eyebrows, smoothing them into place.

  “Thanks,” I offered, glancing at the time over her shoulder. I had to be back in Vegas by seven for a meeting with my manager, Mike, and this was already taking longer than I anticipated.

  Her finger pointed at the tattoo above my heart. “Who is Zoey?”

  Hearing her name, always brought on an overwhelming feeling of sadness. The last thing I wanted to do was to forget her, but remembering was so painful. It was like a hot dagger to the heart. I was about to answer when the photographer came over, saving me from having to go there.

  “Is he ready?” he asked, and the makeup artist nodded.

  “He’s good to go. People like him make my job easy,” she said, batting her long over done eyelashes at me.

  “Well, let’s hope he knows how to model and can make my job easy.” Maksim Abrankovich was known for his unruly temper, but he was a God behind a camera. He could make the ugliest subject look beautiful.

  I stood in front of the white backdrop and did as he instructed. I flexed and smiled for over five hours before he finally called an end to the shoot. He showed me a few of his favorite shots and have to admit they were pretty fucking good. I left there feeling good and looking forward to seeing the actual ads.

  Modeling and endorsements weren’t something I ever thought I’d do. I was a poor boy from the mountains of North Carolina who grew up with little. Fighting was where I excelled, and it gave me the opportunity to earn the money I needed for Zoey. I just never thought when I left North Carolina for the City of Sin that I’d be living the life I now was. I loved the money and the fame, but it would never bring back the one thing that brought me there in the first place. And, because of that, I merely existed. I got up every morning, and went about my day thankful for what I had, but knowing I would never be truly happy again in this lifetime.

 

‹ Prev