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

by Marie York

  A smile tugged at my lips, and I offered them a wink, which sent them into hysterics. I could probably have both of them in my bed if I really wanted to, but I wasn’t even sure they were legal and there was no way that I would go there.

  I continued on to the refrigerated section, grabbed the milk, and got in line. There was a short brunette in front of me, and she looked like she was buying her week’s worth of groceries. I glimpsed around to the other registers, looking for a shorter line, but they were either closed or unattended.

  “Your total is one hundred and twenty-two fifty-six,” the cashier said.

  “It was right here,” the woman said, and the voice I heard was familiar.

  I patiently watched as the brunette frantically searched her bag for payment, trying to figure out where I knew that voice from when she spoke again. “Dammit, Mackenzie,” she mumbled as her hands settled on her bag in defeat. When she glanced up to the cashier, her green eyes apologetic and embarrassed, it clicked.

  What were the fucking chances? She looked different without the blonde pigtails, but I would never forget those eyes. Emerald pools of light that grabbed you by the dick and sucked you in. My gaze drifted downward to her legs covered by the tiniest jean shorts I’d ever seen. Those gorgeous legs, even though shorter than I remembered were familiar too. Lean and muscular, and now in flip flops she was at least six inches shorter than she appeared the other night when she wore those ridiculously high heels.

  I reached into my pocket, and pulled out my wallet, feeling the need to help her out. With a smile, I held up my milk to the cashier. “Add this in,” I said, and handed over three fifty’s.

  Disbelief spread across her face and then realization. She played it off though, acting as if she had no idea who I was.

  Clearly embarrassed, she looked at me shaking her head no. “That is not necessary. I have money. I must have left it home.”

  “And I didn’t leave my money at home, so don’t worry about it.”

  “No, no.” She turned to the cashier, holding her hand up. “I’ll come back. Can you just hold this to the side?”

  I rested a hand on her arm, and her gaze followed my movement. I watched her expression morph from embarrassment to irritation. She lifted her head and looked me straight in my eyes. I was mesmerized by them as we continued our stare down. I realized then that they weren’t just green. At the right angle her eyes held shades of browns and golds as well. At the club, she hid behind makeup and a wig, but right now there was no façade, and God she was fucking beautiful. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I stated, breaking our connection as I looked back to the cashier. “Ring it up.”

  “No! I mean.” She took a deep breath, her tits rising and falling with it. “I don’t need your money.”

  “I never said you did. Consider it a favor.” I gave the cashier a look that she couldn’t argue with and she seemed relieved to get this transaction over with. She rang up my milk, put the money in the register, and handed me my change.

  Green eyes turned dark with anger. “That was so not necessary.”

  “A simple thank you would suffice.” I whispered as I leaned close and brushed my lips against her ear. “By the way, you look so much better as a brunette.”

  She gasped, grabbed her bags, and stormed out of the store without a single glance back.

  Funny thing was, I couldn’t tell if she was mad because I paid for her groceries or the fact that her identity was discovered.

  I scooped up my milk and began walking towards the door, when the cashier called me back. The middle aged woman whose nametag said Nancy pointed to a bag on the counter and said, “You forgot a bag.”

  “Thank you,” I replied with a wink, and then ran after the girl who was the main star in my current fantasies. At the very least, I needed to know her name.

  Chapter Six

  Mila

  I was going to kill Mackenzie. I knew damn well she took the cash out of my bag. It was there this morning when she was asking me for fifty bucks and then, magically after I told her no, it was gone. All of it. And then, as if being stranded at the register with no money wasn’t bad enough, he had to be there.

  Knox McArthur was bad news. He was too hot for his own good, and just looking at those hands, imagining what they could do to me, turned me to a drooling pile of mush. Not to mention, he was a UFC champion and worth more than I could ever fathom. He had more cash in his wallet than I ever had in my bank account.

  Normally, I would totally use a guy like Knox to my advantage. Have him drape me in jewels, and pay my way while I returned the favor in the bedroom. I always paid my debts. But, in those situations, I was the one in control. I pulled the strings, wrapping men around my fingers one by one. I wasn’t exactly proud of what I had become, but I was a survivor. I did whatever was necessary to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table and for that I was proud. I had a feeling, though, that Knox wasn’t one to relinquish control, and I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to resist him.

  So, although I felt a strong, undeniable attraction to him, it was best to stay as far away from him as possible. My life was a web of complication, and I didn’t need to make it messier than it already was.

  I tossed my groceries into the back of my Jeep and swung around to head to the driver side when I smacked right into a solid wall of a man. He smelled of musk and sex. His dirty blond hair looked almost red beneath the mid-morning sun. It was brushed back in a side part that accented the strong lines of his gorgeous face.

  A smirk appeared on his lips, and he held up a plastic bag. “You forgot one.” His voice was the perfect combination of rugged and smooth.

  I snatched the bag from his hand. “I’ll pay you back.” I needed him to know that I wasn’t going to accept his charity. I wasn’t some damsel in distress he could rescue. I was far from it. I didn’t need a man to save me from anything. I’d been doing it on my own for years.

  He leaned against the back of my Jeep, and crossed his huge arms over his chest. I swore his bicep was as big as my head. My eyes lingered on the colorful tattoos marking most of his skin.

  “Give me your name and we’ll call it even,” he said.

  “I don’t give out personal information to clients.”

  He pushed his sunglasses up and narrowed his gaze to mine. His eyes were dark as night, almost black, like a rich dark roast coffee and they both scared and enticed me at the same time. They looked as though they held a million secrets laced with darkness and a touch of sadness. Part of me wanted to know every one of them. But, the sensible part of my brain warned me to look away. It would be so easy to let myself fall under his spell, but I knew I could and would not let that happen.

  “I’m not a client. That was a one-time thing, sweetheart.”

  Unable to resist, I walked over to him, and ran a finger down the bare skin of his arm. “That’s what they all say and then they come back.”

  “I’m not one of them. Take my word for it.”

  “I’m sad to hear that. Was the lap dance not to your liking?”

  “Oh, it sure as hell was, but I don’t plan on paying for another one.”

  I fluttered my eyelashes seductively. “Oh no, too hot for you to handle?”

  Though I didn’t think it was possible, his eyes went even darker with lust at my retort. “The next time you give me a lap dance, it’ll be because you want to and not because I’m paying you. Then we’ll see who’s too hot to handle, sweetheart.”

  I straightened, meeting his cocky confidence with my own. This guy was getting to me big time, but I would not let him see that. “Well, sweet dreams because the only time that’ll happen is in your dreams.”

  He wrapped a big hand around my waist, and yanked me tight against him. He was all muscle and testosterone and my pulse spiked at the close contact. My five-foot frame barely came up to his chest, and I imagined him throwing me around like a rag doll as he had his way with me. My heart beat out of control at the thought.


  His lips brushed gently against my ear, shooting chills down my spine. “I know you want me, and, right now, you can feel how badly I want you.”

  His already hard cock twitched to life beneath his gym shorts as he held me close. I remembered how good it felt rubbing against him during the lap dance. My face flushed with heat as I thought about how I almost made myself come that night. I sucked in a ragged breath, and shoved away from him determined to regain my composure. “Like I said, in your dreams.”

  I hopped in my Jeep and drove off before I lost the will to walk away from him.

  Chapter Seven

  Knox

  My dreams did not disappoint the past few nights. Mila kept me busy all night long and I found myself waking up to morning wood so hard it bordered on painful. I spent the past few days in the shower, cock in hand and visions of Mila, trying to find some relief. It was not happening. Instead I had a never-ending hard on every time I thought of her. Mila. I had a name to put with that gorgeous face now, thanks to Julius and his stripper addiction. It took one call for him to find out who she was.

  “Knox?” Coach said, knocking me out of another daydream. “Where’s your head today?”

  “I’m all here, Coach,” I responded, and shook every x-rated thought running through my head away.

  He tapped my chest with one of his padded hands. “You could have fooled the fuck out of me.” He held the pads back up. “Now, again. Harder this time.”

  I hopped back on my feet and got into position. I rocked back and forth before releasing all that I had into the pads. I threw a jab and then a cross followed up by a leg kick. Coach stumbled a bit, but found his footing quickly. At sixty-five, he was still tough as an ox and probably the only person I wouldn’t want to go up against. He was fighting MMA style before it was even a thing. He had the strength, but, more than anything, he had the skill. Fast on his feet and capable of anticipating an opponent’s every move. He was too old for cage life, but he would never be too old to teach. I was a world champion because of everything he taught me and, if he knew I had a girl on my mind, he would beat my ass.

  “Better,” he said, as I delivered a perfectly planned Superman. “Take a break.”

  I walked to the edge of the ring and grabbed my bottle of water, chugging until it was halfway gone. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and I used the back of my hand to wipe it away.

  “How you feeling? Good?” Coach asked, coming to a stop next to me.

  “Feeling great. Never better.”

  “Good that’s exactly what I want to hear before a fight.”

  “I’m not worried,” I said.

  “Me either. Stanton isn’t really competition. He’s three and one. He got his ass handed to him by a newbie.”

  I laughed. “That sucks.”

  “That’s what I said, but the newbie is good. Hasn’t lost a fight yet. I think we should keep an eye on him. He’s in your weight class and, at the rate he’s going, he might be after your title.”

  “What’s his name?” I asked, thinking I’d look him up if I had a minute.

  “Bronx Boston. They call him The Boss.”

  “Bronx Boston? He sounds like douchebag.”

  “Probably is, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is the boy’s got skills.”

  “I’ll worry about it when I have to,” I said, taking another swig from my water bottle. There was no use concerning myself with some rookie. For all I knew, it was beginners luck, and he’d be fading soon. No one stayed undefeated in this sport for long.

  “Good, because right now you need to focus on Friday’s match. A lot of money is riding on you, and you don’t want to piss any one off.”

  The one thing about being champion, people loved to bet against you, thinking your run would have to die out eventually. But, then there were those who put all on the line for me, knowing they’d be raking it in big if I win again. I didn’t fight for them, though. I didn’t fight for anyone. I fought for myself. I didn’t give a shit who was betting on me, and who would win what. I didn’t owe anyone shit.

  Sebastian, Julius and Marco, I knew, always threw bets down in my favor, but I told them to keep me in the dark. I didn’t need to worry about their money while I was beating some guys face in. They did their thing and I did my own. Afterwards, we celebrated. It was the only way it would work.

  “Go hit the showers,” Coach said, climbing out of the ring. He stopped when he jumped down to the ground and looked up at me. “And Knox.”

  “Yeah, Coach?”

  “Whatever chick has you spacing out, fuck her and forget her. You don’t have time for distractions.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, playing dumb.

  “I wasn’t born yesterday, and I’m not fucking stupid. I’ve watched some of the greats fall because of some chick and I’m not going to let that happen to you. You need to keep your focus, and whoever she is needs to be forgotten.”

  “Coach, I’m not some fucking amateur. Don’t insult me. The minute I step in the cage, everything on the outside disappears. I’m here to win, and I will.”

  Coach nodded. “Don’t tell me. Show me,” he said, and then disappeared into the locker room.

  Chapter Eight

  Mila

  I packed my schoolgirl outfit in my bag and pulled it onto my shoulder. Christian Bates was in town, and I knew he’d be stopping by to get his kicks. The sick bastard had some sick obsession for schoolgirls, and while I didn’t think it was as innocent as others, he tipped well. Besides, he was a rich and powerful business man that people turned a blind eye to all the time.

  Music blasted from the living room, and I rolled my eyes as I made my way out of my room. I went over to the remote and turned it off.

  “Hey, I was listening to that!” Mackenzie whined.

  “The whole building was. Shouldn’t you be doing your homework?” I asked Mackenzie, who was lying on the couch in a bikini, painting her toe nails.

  “What’s the point?”

  “The point is, you need to do it.”

  “Why?” She sat up, holding her legs out, and admiring her feet before looking up at me. “You dropped out of high school and look at you now.” Her words dripped with sarcasm.

  I took in a deep breath to calm my nerves before I jumped over the coffee table and smacked her stupid. “I didn’t have a choice. Someone had to get a job and put a roof over our heads. You’re welcome by the way.”

  “Geez, Mila. I was just kidding. Take a joke, would you?”

  “I would if it was funny.” I was still pissed at her about the money, though she swore up and down that she didn’t touch it. But, if she didn’t take it then who did? She really thought I was a moron.

  If it weren’t for Knox, she wouldn’t be eating that bag of chips right now. I would have had to work an extra shift, and prayed that I made enough in tips to cover what was missing. Her morning omelets would have been replaced with dollar store cereal.

  I still needed to pay Knox back, which is why I was going in tonight. It was usually my night off, but, when I heard Christian was in town, I figured it was my best bet to earn enough to pay my debt.

  “I’m heading to work now. Mrs. Suarez said she’ll look in on you.”

  Mackenzie’s lip curled, and her hand landed firmly on her hip. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. I’m sixteen. I don’t need a babysitter,” she yelled as she rolled her eyes.

  I wanted to smack her across the face and wipe that smug look right off it, but instead I took in a deep breath willing myself to stay calm and not add anymore fuel to this fire. “Apparently, you do, since the last time I came home I found two boys passed out drunk in my living room.”

  She stomped her foot, and it reminded me of the tantrums she used to throw when she was five, and our parents were the ones who had to deal with her. It was comical then, not so much now. “This is so not fair!” she squealed.

  “Yeah, well life’s not fair. So get over it. Besides,
if you have nothing to hide, then why are you getting so worked up?” I met her gaze and held it, refusing to back down to her. She needed to get it through her thick goddamned head that she wasn’t the one in charge.

  “That’s not the point,” she spat.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No! The point is, Mrs. Suarez is a nosy bitch who has nothing better to do with her life than spy on me.”

  “Mrs. Suarez has five kids, so believe me when I say she has plenty to do. Anyway, you brought this on yourself. You’re the one who showed me, I couldn’t trust you on your own. Instead of acting like the grown up you proclaim to be,” I put my fingers up making air quotes “You did the total opposite, leaving me no choice but to have someone look in on you.” You want to be treated like an adult? Then try acting the part. You think I like having to do this, then think again. I don’t like it anymore than you do, but since I am in charge of you, you left me no choice. So deal with it.”

  “Oh yeah, because being in charge makes you think you’re my mom,” she ground out. Well you’re not and I can’t wait till I’m eighteen so I can get the fuck out of here and not have to listen to you anymore. You act like being a mom is so fucking hard. It’s not rocket science, you know.”

  “You have no idea,” I mumbled, wanting so desperately to grab her by the neck and shake her until something clicked in that damn brain of hers. Mom and Dad’s death brought us so close together. We relied on each other, and she made me believe we would be okay. That as long as we had each other we would get through anything. But, for the past year, she has been an intolerable witch. The tiniest things making her act as if the world were coming to an end. She’s been disrespectful and rebellious. A complete and total bitch that loved to push my buttons and question my authority at every opportunity she had. I was quickly losing my patience.

  I repeated over and over in my head that it was a phase. She had been through so much in her short life and this, like everything else, would pass.