by Teagan Kade
He unlocks the door and uses his shoulder to push it open. A wave of dust rolls out as we enter, cutting through the beams of sunlight channeling from the pock-marked ceiling above. It’s abandoned, falling apart, but it’s the gym Pops and I bought fifty-fifty all those years ago, our mutual dream.
I walk over to the ring and run my finger along the ropes. It comes away black. Still, there’s a muted beauty about it in this state. I can still smell the sweat.
Sam leans against a wall, fishing for a cigarette. He lights it, breathing it in deep before puffing out a series of wraithlike rings. “It’s a shame it never saw any real action, right?”
I walk around the ring, picturing what we’d planned to do with the place. We got as far as the sign outside before Pop passed. After that, everything went to shit. All the renovation plans we had were shelved. It decayed and never came to life. “It is.”
“You’re just like him, you know.”
“Impossibly handsome?”
“A man of few words,” replies Sam. “Though I don’t recall you ever cracking jokes. Maybe this lady friend of yours is more than you’re making out.”
I hang on the ropes. “Maybe.”
“So what? You’re going to fight for her or let her slip through your fingers?”
I’ve only known her days, but already I’m certain I’d go to hell and back to make Dawn mine, especially after what happened earlier. That was sex like I’ve never known. “I’ve got a fight tomorrow. O’Neil.”
Sam pushes off the wall, approaching me with a limp, flicking his cigarette into the corner. “I know. He’s a tough prick. You going to be right?”
It’s been since years since I was in a proper fight, and even then it was off the books, the kind of hillbilly sideshow you’re paid for in grubby bills and free booze. “I’ll be fine.”
Sam takes hold of my arm, squeezing. “Too much of the good stuff, if you ask me.”
“Says the man smoking his way to the grave,” I smile.
“Smart ass.”
“Old bastard.”
Sam gives me another jab in the gut. “It’s good to see you, Max, really.”
“And you.” I look around. “Who owns the joint now?”
Sam rattles his pocket, the keys jangling. “You think I keep these for kicks? I do, you prick.”
“You were the anonymous bidder?”
“I couldn’t let anyone else have it, you know?”
“But you’re…”
“Poor?” he finishes. “Broke? Son, I might look like I don’t have two dimes to rub together, but I did okay in a previous life. I’ve got enough.”
“But you can’t hold onto this place forever, right?”
Sam nods. “The city’s closing in, yeah. I get a developer a week trying to get me to sell this place. We all do around here, and it’s big money. Most of the folks in these parts, folks you knew before you pissed off to Jersey, have already gone, but I can’t let this place go, even if it’s the last fucking gym standing in Vegas.”
But I know how these things go. “They’ll make you. If you don’t sell, they’ll just send in—”
“The heavies?” laughs Sam. “I can handle myself.”
I look him over. “You sure about that?”
He waves it off. “Let them come. I’ve still got friends around here, friends who know a left from a right. Hell, we could use a bit of action, but fuck that, all of it. I brought you here for another reason.”
I thumb the ropes. “You want a fight? See if you’ve still got it? Because I’ll lay you flat, cripple or not.”
“Like I said, you’re a smartass, but no, call it a business proposition.”
“A proposition?”
He looks me dead in the eyes. “You win the fight tomorrow, you can have the gym. It’s yours.”
It takes me a second to process what he’s saying. “Why?”
He throws his arms wide. “I’ve got maybe three, four months tops. What the fuck am I going to do with this place?”
“Okay. Fair enough, but what’s the catch?”
He raps on the side of his head with a closed fist. “You always had brains, Max, whether you wanted to believe it or not. The catch? The catch is that you can’t sell this place. You have to promise me that.”
“I promise.” And I mean it. Things are coming full circle. I’m looking at a dust-ridden gym but I’m seeing possibility, a way out from Saul’s iron grasp. I see kids sparring and people working. I see bags waiting to be beaten, a water table, a framed picture of Pops smiling over it all. I see what we always wanted before my ego got too big for this neighborhood and I left. Biggest fucking mistake of my life.
Sam takes my shoulder again. “Thank you, Max, but a word of advice: you know what’s sexier to a woman than a bad boy?”
“An old man who dresses like a bum?”
“A grown-ass man who’s got his shit together.” He prods me in the chest to drive the point home. “And don’t lose the fucking fight.”
“I won’t.”
“You still remember my phone number?”
“I do.”
He starts to walk away. “Call if you need me. Otherwise, get out of my fucking gym. It’s not yours yet.”
I start to follow him out. “Whatever you say, Sam.”
Dawn
I step out of the elevator into Suite 608. I walk through room after room, floor-to-ceiling windows looking over the older part of Vegas below, the neon glow of New Vegas a shimmering borealis in the distance.
I lean against a golden grand piano in the middle of the lounge, imagine Max taking me on its glossy surface, driving deep and whispering my name in my ear, commanding me to come, to cream over his cock.
I step away. Cool it already, but I can’t shake these thoughts, the need to feel his hands on my body again, his lips pressing against mine.
I’m looking directly at a landline, the phone—gold, of course—waiting.
Noel. I have to let her know I’m safe. That’s all. Max will find out, but he’ll just have to live with it. Besides, I’m here of my own free will now.
Keep telling yourself that.
I pick up the handset, dialing Noel’s cell.
She picks up on the first ring, voice strained. “Hello?”
“Noel?”
“Dawn. Jesus, where are you? Are you okay?” The words rush out.
I pull in a breath. “I’m fine.”
“God, I’ve been worried sick. I put in a missing person’s report, for Christ’s sake.”
“It’s okay.”
Her tone borders on anger. “It is far from okay. Where are you?” she repeats.
I hate doing this to her. “I can’t say, but I just called to tell you I’m not being held against my will or anything like that. It’s all to do with Rick, but it’s going to be sorted out soon.”
“Rick? What’s that motherfucker done now?”
“You don’t need to worry about it, or me, but he’s going to pay and this will all be resolved. I’ll be home before you know it.”
I’m trying to stay composed, but her voice threatens to break me.
“I told you he was bad news, Dawn.”
“I know, and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it.”
“You’re not there with that guy are you, Mr. Muscle?”
I look around the corner, sure Max will be waiting there. “Not at the moment, but he’s here, yes.”
“Oh god, Dawn…”
“It’s not like that, Noel. He’s okay. He—”
“He’s okay?!” she bellows. “You haven’t got Stockholm Syndrome, have you, because I’ve heard—”
I roll my eyes. “I have not got Stockholm Syndrome. In fact…”
“In fact what?” she presses.
“I think I have feelings for him.”
“Dawn!” she shouts. “I know that in some weird, twisted way this could be exciting, maybe, hormones-something, but… You. Are. In. Danger. Do you understand that? You can�
�t trust him.”
“I can.”
“Dawn,” she pleads. “Listen to me. I’m begging you.”
A tear falls from my face. This wasn’t how I wanted this to go down at all. “I have to hang up now, Noel.”
“Dawn!” she screams.
“I’m okay, Noel. I’m okay and I love you.”
I hang up, cutting her halfway through the next “Da—”
I place the handset down carefully and slump to the carpet, wiping my eyes and trying to calm myself down.
At least she knows now.
What if they trace the call?
I doubt we’ll be here long enough for anything to come of it. Max will fight tomorrow and then we’ll have Rick. There’s no reason things shouldn’t be back to normal by noon, no reason I can’t get on with my life.
Without Max.
I struggle against the thought. I’m not ready to let him go; quite the opposite. I’m sure he has his demons—what guy in his line of work wouldn’t?—but I want him and he wants me. It’s obvious.
You need a man, not a project.
I stand and breathe in again, exhaling slowly. I’m not going to sit here and sulk. I’m in a freakin’ penthouse, and soon an impossibly gorgeous man who clearly cares for me will be back. I can’t let that opportunity slip. This might be the last… I don’t want to finish the thought.
It dawns on me how much Max has stuck his neck out for me here. All the risk has been on him. He had no reason to help me, to go along with any of this. I’ve got to reward him, in some way, any way I can.
Another image of our bodies twisted together flares in my head, my pussy growing hot and heated with anticipation. You’re in Las Freakin’ Vegas. Live a little.
So I decide it.
“Tonight, Max Davis,” I say aloud. “Tonight is going to be the best damn night of your life.”
The girl at the desk discreetly directs me to a lingerie shop around the corner. I know Max told me not to leave the casino, but I doubt he’d argue with this excursion, not when he sees what I walk away with.
It feels very Vegas, paying with a wad of bills.
I take the bags and return upstairs, upending them on the monstrous master bed and laying each set out carefully. This kind of couture is not cheap, but as I finger the fabrics I can already feel the way my body begins to melt with expectation.
I look between the two sets—one white silk, the other black lace. I’ve wanted to buy underwear like this for the longest time, but never had the money… or the reason. Now I have both I’m so excited I can barely think straight.
I go with the white set first, a simple thong with matching teddy, a patchwork of white ribbons doubling as ties for the back. “Bit like a gift.” I giggle.
I try it on and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, hardly able to believe how different I look. The awkward assistant is gone. Dawn the sex bomb is in.
I try the black set next. I like the lace. It’s almost see-through, my nipples a dusky pink through the gauzy lace of the bra. I turn around, the cut showing off my butt. It’s more in-your-face than the white set, but that’s kind of what I’m going for here—a knock-out blow.
Besides, the white set looks like something you’d wear on your wedding day.
I take a moment to pause and wonder what a wedding with Max would be like, the kinds of characters that would show up. Noel would be over the moon, of course. She’d probably organize the whole thing if I let her. I’d wear white, because tradition, but I’d design it from the ground up, source the finest fabric and make it my own. Max would be in a suit, maybe Tom Ford, slate or navy, and he’d look incredible. We’d laugh during our vows, go to Hawaii for our honeymoon where we’d have passionate, insatiable sex everywhere like two horny teenagers.
I stare back at myself. Are you for real right now? You’ve got to stay alive first.
The thing is, I can’t picture that suit on Max as hard as I try. I think it would probably strip itself off and go running away, his body a natural repellant to high fashion.
I place my hands on my hips, tilting my head to the side wondering if my breasts look too small in this bra when I hear the front door open.
Shit, he’s home earlier than expected.
“Dawn?” he calls.
Suddenly, this whole thing seems insane. What if he doesn’t go for it? I’ll be standing here half-naked looking like a fool.
I grab a robe off the hanger and wrap it around myself, tying it off. “One second.”
I come out pretending to dry my hair. “Oh, you’re back.”
He looks around. “Did you make it downstairs?”
I sit awkwardly up against the piano. “I did.”
He looks at me suspiciously. “And?”
“It was great. How was your, um, Dad?”
He approaches me. “Full disclosure, he’s dead. I went to visit his grave, but I bumped into an old friend there. We talked.”
“I’m sorry.”
“About Pops?” he smiles. “Don’t be. He died years ago. Did you just get out of the shower?”
“Um…”
“Your hair’s not wet.”
Damn. “I…”
“You…?”
Here goes nothing. I untie the belt and let my robe open. “I wanted to surprise you, say thanks for everything you’ve done.”
His eyes are wide. “Wow.”
I step forward. “Is it okay?” I ask sheepishly.
The question hangs. I can’t read anything from Max’s expression.
And then he reaches forward and takes the robe from my shoulders. It falls, puddling around my feet, and I’m exposed, completely and utterly, beautifully exposed.
I go to cover myself up, but he holds my hands by my side. “No, leave them.”
“Well?” I query, mouth dry.
He begins to smile. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.” He comes against me. I feel his erection hard between us. He reaches behind my back, a single snap causing my bra to hang between us.
I can’t breathe. I can’t do a damn thing I’m so nervous, and why? It’s only been a couple of hours.
He kisses me. Again, it’s softer than I expect. My tongue goes between his lips. Together, they meet, timid at first and then pressing against one another with abandon.
Help me.
We break apart and he pulls the bra away, drinking in my breasts with his leonine eyes, and I know I’m perfect in them, everything he’s been dreaming of.
He kneels in front of me, hands gripping the waistband of my panties. It’s déjà vu, but this time he asks. “May I?”
Max
I try to stop every drop of blood in my body from filling my cock and leaving me light-headed.
She nods and I carefully drag her panties down her legs, languishing in the intimate scent that greets me as her sex is bared.
I stand to meet her, carrying her as quickly as I can to the bedroom and placing her on her feet at the foot of the bed.
I kick off my boots, stripping away my shirt.
I scoop a breast up in my hand, a perfect handful, lowering my head to take the nipple into my mouth.
Dawn’s breath catches, her fingers weaving into my hair.
My mouth remains fixed to her nipple as my hands run down her spine and soft buttocks. I lift them ever so slightly to test their give and feel.
Fucking perfect.
I lash her nipple with my tongue while she moans and mews, whipping it around the tender nub until it’s firm and erect.
“Oh,” she gasps when my fingers fall between her legs and nestle into her folds.
I could tease, draw this out, but I’m too hot for her right now. I need this with a fierce desperation I’ve never felt before. I could cut fucking steel with my cock it’s so hard.
I slide a finger to the second knuckle inside her heat. I can’t believe how quickly this has escalated. I’m running my finger in and out of her slick pussy, the sweet, intoxic
ating aroma overwhelming.
I run my free hand over the curve of her hip, cupping her breast and moving to the other nipple, leaving the one I left behind warm from its time spent inside my mouth.
She tenses against me. I know the need is building in her core as I continue to work my finger in and out, sawing it into her wetness.
She gasps again when I withdraw, pulling away from her breast at the same time. I run the digit into my mouth hot with her juices.
It’s no surprise she tastes fucking amazing, but I want more.
I want all of her.
She could have her pick of guys, whether she realizes it or not, but she’s chosen me now, right fucking here, and I’m not about to disappoint.
My cock jerks against my jocks, desperate to be released, to fill her.
Soon, boy. Soon.
I stand, taking her by the hips and half-lifting, half-throwing her onto the bed.
Few sounds can be heard—the sharp pull of air into her open mouth as she watches me, leather running through belt loops, denim against cotton, my cock straining against restriction.
I smile as my jeans and boxers are stripped away, grinning at the small shock on her face when she sees the size of my member again. It’s been hours, but my balls remain heavy and full.
I approach the bed and her legs spread automatically, falling apart to reveal the wet slit of her pussy, her folds flowering open.
But she needs more.
She’s going to get it.
I crouch and swipe my belt from the floor.
“What are you…” but she doesn’t get the full sentence out as I come up onto the bed and loop the belt around her wrists, cinching it tight with the buckle until her hands are tied together.
She looks nervous. Clearly, she hasn’t been restrained before, but there’s a first time for everything.
I lie her down, lifting her bound hands to rest on a pillow while I sink between her thighs.
Most men don’t like going down on their women.
Most men are fucking idiots.
I have no such qualms. I relish the opportunity. I bury my entire face into her open pussy, my tongue probing deep into her hot hole while my fingers hold her apart, softly stroking her labia. It’s so beautiful—her essence, her juices, her smell. I could happily stay here forever, suffocating in her sex.