by Shara Azod
Table of Contents
Chapter One—The Take Down
Chapter Two—The Challenge
Chapter Three—The Rematch
Chapter Four—Change of Venue
Chapter Five—The Flip Side
Chapter Six—The Undefeated
Coming Soon: T.K.O
Undefeated
Shara Azod
ABC Thrillers
“P” is for Pudding Wrestling
www.beautifultroublepublishing.com
Undefeated
Shara Azod
Copyright © 2011 by Shara Azod
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright.
This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.
Published by
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PO Box 61
Colfax, NC 27235
www.beautifultroublepublishing.com
Cover Art: Marteeka Karland http://www.marteekakarland.com/
Editor: Cindy Davis, http://www.fiction-doctor.com/
Proofreader: Novellette Whyte
http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/
Formatter: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/
E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/
ISBN: (ebook) 978-1-61788-147-3; (print) 978-1-61788-148-0
For Julia Landry, thank you for all your support, this one's all for you. —Shara
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CAVEAT
This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.
Chapter One—The Take Down
“Chauncey, man, you can’t wrestle that lady.”
Chauncey didn’t reply to his best friend, but he had to agree with Cody this time. There was no way he could wrestle the petite thing standing in an inflatable pool full of pudding on the other side of the ring. When he agreed to this publicity stunt he had been sure he would be paired against some stout, sturdy kind of woman. There was no way in heaven, earth or hell he could get into any kind of real physical contest with the Pocket Venus across the pool of butterscotch creamy goodness.
“Seriously, Chaunce, you may break her.” There was real panic in Cody’s voice and he stared bugged eyed at the woman in the gold lamé bikini standing next to her business partner, Tye Something-or-other. The other woman was fully dressed in jeans and an oversized football jersey, which made Julia looked more bare, if that was possible.
“Come on, give me some credit. There’s no way I’m really wrestling her.” Which was a damn shame. He’d like to tussle—just not in a pool of pudding in front of a rapt crowd.
Though, he had to admit, Julia “The Jewels” Vernon, undefeated underground pudding wrestler extraordinaire, would look damn good covered in the tan colored pudding. Sure she stood about five foot nothing, coming in at maybe a buck-o-five sopping wet, but the fierce looking tiny doll of a woman sported some serious curvature. Chauncey was seriously not liking the bikini she had on. Oh, he appreciated it, as any heterosexual male would, but he wasn’t too keen on everyone else in the damn place appreciating what he was seeing. He had the most insane urge to throw his robe over her, then throw her over his shoulder to hide her away from the eyes of the crowd. The notion was insane, seeing as how he didn’t know this woman, had never seen her before—though he had spoken to her over the phone.
A lot. She’d been damned persuasive trying to get him to do this. He’d be hard pressed to nail down exactly when he’d agreed to this travesty of wrestling. In fact, he could have sworn he’d been dead set against it. It was incredibly hard to deny The Jewels once she got going. By the end of the conversation Chauncey had a hard time recalling why he’d originally said no. In fact, he had no idea what he had been arguing about the last forty-five minutes. All he knew was when and where to be for a pudding wrestling match. He was also half in love with the voice over the phone. Now that he could connect the voice with the body, the physical results were devastating.
Her total effect, live and in person, made his brain alternately sweat, go blank, then start sweating again. Who knew brains could sweat?
“You want me to go tell that Tye lady hell no this thing is off so we can get the hell out of Dodge?” Cody offered.
Cody sounded so damn jumpy it would’ve been funny, if only he didn’t feel like he’d just been bashed over his common sense—as if it were a physical thing.
Pudding wrestling was a new, niche sporting event, if you could call it that. Tickets weren’t available on the open market as no publicity was done. All events were live. There was no taping allowed whatsoever, which mean no cell phones in the staging area. A person had to be a part of an exclusive club—specifically P.W. Unlimited—to be invited to purchase tickets, at an outrageous price. Every one of the few hundred spectators had paid twice as much as the usual price to see this event. Damn good racket if you asked him.
But it was for a damn good cause, he couldn’t back down. As the current champion of the Federation of North American Wrestling, the only real entertainment wrestlers in the Mexico, the U.S. and Canada, he couldn’t chicken out. All the proceeds were going to women’s shelters up and down the Eastern Seaboard. They had netted one and a half million dollars with this event—no way he could walk away.
The choice of charity was the reason Chauncey said yes in the first place—well the part of saying yes to the match that he could remember. He’d been more or less railroaded into this thing, but he really believed in the cause that would receive all the proceeds. If more shelters had been around when he was a kid…
“I’m going in.” It was so not wise. He would have to be extra-careful with The Jewels so he didn’t hurt her. But no way could he back out of the match. “Don’t worry, Cody. I promise to be careful.”
“Yeah, you fucking better,” Cody muttered, shaking his head.
“I swear it.” He’d rather cut off an arm than harm a female. “Wish me luck.”
Cody McKnight was the only man Chauncey knew who was more protective of women than he. Both men had been raised in abusive households. After one too many trips to the emergency room, Chauncey’s mother had eventually divorced his alcoholic stepfather. Cody’s mother hadn’t been so lucky. Because of their pasts, both men had protective natures when it came to women, borne of real pain and abiding love. Deep down, Chauncey believed that was the reason Cody had been so adamant on accompanying him to this match.
This should be quick. The Jewels had her braids swept up and away, secured to her head. He had to snort at that, like he would really grab her by the hair. Shaking his head he stepped into the pool of pudding. It was cool and squishy under his bare feet. Thank goodness he hadn’t oiled down as he u
sually did before bouts. There was absolutely zero concern some female could grab him. Chauncey was conceited when it came to his physical prowess, but fuck it, he’d earned that right. He worked hard to maintain his physique. To state it simply, he was a six-foot-five, two hundred and ninety-five pound mountain of a man. He could not be moved. No woman, no matter how brawny or strong, could throw him.
Maybe that was why, after the bell signaled the beginning of the match Chauncey stood there, feet planted apart, his trademark smirk on his face. It brought out his dimples. Chicks loved that. Unfortunately, The Jewels was completely immune. She dove for him. He stood there ready for the impact. But she never hit. Instead she slid between his spread legs, cleanly hooking his ankle with her foot on her way through. Maybe it was the pudding, but the glide was incredibly swift, there was no way to catch her. Unfortunately, there was also no way to correct his balance after his foot had been jerked upward. It was a long trip down for the mountain of muscle that he was, and there wasn’t a damn thing Chauncey could hold on to. Surprisingly, butterscotch pudding didn’t cushion his fall one iota.
Because the inflatable pool was inside an actual wrestling ring, Chauncey bounced twice, each time landing hard on his stomach. The wind was knocked out of him. Helpless as he struggled to breathe with pudding in his nose and throat, he felt a weight on his back. Not heavy, but solid. A slick, oh so heavenly feeling body stretched across his back, taking away any aches his clumsy fall might have caused. For a moment, Chauncey lost himself in the sensation. Then the body slid up in a kind of massage, pressing flesh against flesh. Up, up, up…until, were those knees on his shoulders? Why the heck was she holding his arms down? What the—
“Ladies and gentlemen, The Jewels has done it again! Give it up for our own undefeated champ-pion of worldwide pudding wrestling—Julia ‘The Jewels’ Veerrrrnnnoooon!!!”
Before the announcer’s words faded into the rising roar of the crowd, the lithe figure was gone from atop him, leaving him oddly cold. Then, as he lumbered to his feet, it dawned on him what had just happened. He’d lost. Pinned by a woman who weighed less than his luggage. Damn. She was good. Really, really good. And that butterscotch pudding looked positively edible on that deep mocha skin. When was the last time he’d eaten?
“Man, you got your ass handed to you by a girl!” Cody cackled, throwing a towel in his general direction.
Chauncey looked over to the opposite corner, then bowed low and deep. “Naw, I just got my ass handed to me by a fully grown woman.”
Damn. He was in love.
Chapter Two—The Challenge
“Ohmigawd, I still cannot believe you really did it! That dude is huge—and you beat him!”
Julia cast a baleful glance at the woman who’d been her best friend since the womb, even if they had traveled in separate ones at the time, and technically hadn’t met until they were a few days old.
It had been three freaking days since her grand match with the formerly undefeated champion of Federation of North American Wrestling. It had been a takedown of epic proportion. And what did Tye, her homie, her ace, keep saying? I can’t believe you survived. Of course she survived! Not only that, but conquered. Like the hulking wrestler would hurt her anyway; it was for charity. Just a stunt event that he had no idea was real until she pinned him.
“Survived? I do believe I won.”
Tye was the Queen of Understatement. That was one of the things that made her a damn good partner, and an even better friend. Julia shook her head sadly and returned to the task of accounting.
“Okay, I admit it. You beat him. And he was so-so-BIG!”
Julia looked up, but not really at Tye. Her mind’s eye wandered back to the glorious sculpture of muscle and enticement to sin that was Chauncey Cullen, also known as The Dream. He most certainly was that. There was just something about a big strong, solidly built man that did it for her. Chauncey had all that going on, plus he was drop-dead gorgeous. Those green eyes looked capable of burning a chick with one long, intense look. To Julia’s way of thinking, it might not be such a bad way to go. Especially if she could bury her hands in those glossy midnight locks of his and take a wild ride on that mountain of a man as she went up in flames.
“Not—uh, stop it!” Why did Tye have to go and ruin such a lovely fantasy with all that negativity? “You pinned the dude in under three minutes. Given that he is male—and by the looks of him, carrying all kinds of extra testosterone—you probably wounded his fragile male ego. So you might as well stop fantasizing about him right now. It is so not going to happen.”
“Uh, I wasn’t fantasizing!” Julia knew Tye would know it for a lie, but she said it anyway. Being all caught up, she ducked her head and pretended to be engrossed in the receipts from last night, even though the numbers simply swam in front of her eyes. It was better than acknowledging the dreaded “Tye-stare.” That look made priests confess; and Julia was a looooong way from being clergy.
“I am going to drop of some checks to the shelters.” Tye got up from behind her own desk. They shared a huge office, their desks facing each other. “Do not call that man, Jewels. I am deadly serious. Do not text him, do not email him either. Let his pride heal.”
No way she was looking up at her friend who stood there all patient-like. The stance was a trick designed to get her to immediately confess to having all kinds of dirty thoughts about the man in question. Julia had been down that road far too many times to fall for the patient mother/guilt thing Tye had going on. This wasn’t something simple like putting sugar in the gas tank of the bastard who thought he was going to date both of them at the same time, then cheerfully giving him a lift when the car broke down. He probably wasn’t expecting her to drop him off in the worst area in town after dark, but hey, he deserved that shit. And the other time with the hair dye in the shampoo of the chick that was sleeping with Tye’s ex- in Tye’s bed—well that was justice. Eventually the chick’s hair had grown back enough to cut the green out. In Julia’s honest opinion, if you’re bleach blonde, you shouldn’t fool around with other people’s men—it invites trouble.
This whole secret crush on Chauncey thing was very different from confessing a harmless prank or two. Yes, her thoughts about the oh-so-sexy wrestler were all kinds of carnal, but they had an added dose of “Mine!” that Julia wasn’t ready to share just yet, not even with her best friend. Chauncey made her tingle in way no man ever had before. When she’d had him under her, all compliant, like a good man should be, it felt so right. Not to mention the wondrous sensation of all those hard, bulging muscles. Lord knows, she hadn’t wanted to get up. If only they had been alone.
“Dammit, Julia will you stop?” Tye turned on her heel and stomped away. “I swear, you’d think you never saw a man before.”
Julia didn’t say a word as her friend strode from the office like she was Neferteri marching off to war. What could she say? Yeah, she’d seen men before. However, not a one of them was all arrogant and sexy, and damned clumsy in a pool of pudding. Too bad butterscotch was not one of her favorites. Served on his body though, she just might learn to love it. A little fantasy of some late night snacking danced through her mind now, bringing a smile to her face. It was much too good of a daydream to be bothered with little things like an insistent knock on the office door. Whoever it was could go hang. At the moment she was too busy climbing a seriously fine man-mountain.
“You look different in clothes.”
Now that was psychic karma for your ass. Apparently thinking of this particular slice of eye candy made him appear out of thin air. That was the only explanation Julia came up with seeing as how Chauncey Cullens was standing in front of her desk. Maybe if she concentrated really hard he would drag her across it and have his wicked, dirty, nasty way with her on it. It was hard not to lick her lips at the sight of her fantasy in living flesh. Very nice flesh it was too. Dear heaven, the saints and all the angels above, how could a man look better in clothes than in tight spandex shorts? It invited a
woman to strip him down to the natural-born basics.
“Excuse me?” Julia was never one to let anyone get the upper hand on her; except for Tye, who took it without permission.
Chauncey turned several shades of red. Damn, he was so cute when he was all embarrassed. “I-uh-sorry.” That voice was designed to get women to throw him their panties. It should be illegal, all smooth and suave like a Quiet Storm deejay, only with a Southern twist. “The sight of you, uh…well, you look nice. Seeing you in business wear threw me.”
Julia didn’t respond. She was having way too much fun watching the big man squirm. Truthfully, she looked different in her wrestling bikini than she did in the offices of P.W. Unlimited. Slipping on her professional face, complete with a power suit was a throwback from the days she worked the professional grind as a stockbroker, of all things. She’d hated her job back then. Starting an underground pudding wrestling enterprise had been a joke between her and Tye designed to blow off steam. To their surprise, the venture took off, becoming way too lucrative not to take advantage of. Plus it was fun.
“I came to ask for a rematch,” Chauncey ventured after a few minutes of her very best And? stare. “Uh, you know for charity. Please.”
Julia had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. So Tye had been right, as usual. His pride was all hurt, the poor thing.
“Okay.” There was little point in beating around the bush or play coy. Quite frankly she couldn’t think of a better place for Chauncey to be than right underneath her—and that was exactly where he would end up.
“Okay? Just like that?” He seemed genuinely surprised she’d said yes so quickly.