The Cocky Cage Fighter Six Book Box Set

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The Cocky Cage Fighter Six Book Box Set Page 103

by Lane Hart


  “Oh God,” she moans, reaching for my cock. She handles it like a gearshift, and I go from neutral to drive in less than sixty seconds. After that, her mouth is on mine, and there’s a series of unfortunate ripping sounds that I’m sure she’ll bitch about later. Now, though, as she straddles my hips, she seems to appreciate how quickly I got her naked. In fact, she can’t seem to get my pants unzipped fast enough. I could help her, but I enjoy seeing this horny version of Abby who is desperate for me instead of hating my guts too much to interfere. This form is rare, like a white unicorn, and I know that in a few minutes she’ll disappear and be replaced with the sick, ill-tempered version. The one who can cut me down and make me feel like a worthless, three feet tall imp with only a few words. This horny version is so much better.

  Abby finally gets my pants undone, but she doesn’t waste time lowering them any farther than necessary before she sinks her hot, drenched pussy right down on my cock. At the pace she’s riding me, our mouths can’t stay connected, so I suck on one of her bouncing titties instead while she squeezes my shoulders for stability.

  “Uh, God, Senn,” she groans. “Uh! Uh! Uhh!”

  Quickest orgasm ever. If there was a countdown for that shit, I’d have to be in the top ten because she came on my cock within seconds. In fact, I should feel used since it took no participation by me whatsoever to get her off. But, fuck, she’s riding me so damn good that I don’t last much longer before her orgasm milks me dry. Her nipple slips from my mouth when she slumps against me, resting her head on my shoulder. My arms stay wrapped around her, holding her to me. Hell, this is probably the closest thing to cuddling that I’ve ever done, and I’m not even naked. She is, but I still have my shirt on and most of my pants. I would like to feel her warm skin against mine, but that would require moving her.

  When the minutes tick by without a peep from her, I realize she’s fallen asleep. Well, damn. I suppose I should take her to bed. Getting to my feet with her is no problem. Even pregnant she’s light, probably not much over a hundred and twenty pounds. The problem is that when I stand up with my arms around her, my pants and boxers end up around my ankles. Since I still have my boots on, I can’t just step out of them. So what do I do? I waddle. All the way down the hallway.

  Of course, that’s when Abby wakes up giggling before she says, “Quack, quack.”

  “Shut it. You didn’t even undress me. I feel used,” I tease her right before I toss her onto my mattress.

  “Right,” she mutters with a smile. “I can tell you’re really offended.”

  “So offended,” I reply while pulling up my pants and zipping them.

  “Where are you going?” she asks.

  “I’m not really tired,” I tell her. “Gonna go watch TV for a while.”

  “Oh,” she mutters, scooting to the top of the bed and climbing under the neatly tucked covers. Nikki, the girl that cleans my house twice a week, was here this morning, so my room isn’t a complete pigsty. I actually got up early and stayed at the gym until I knew Nikki was finished cleaning since she usually wears a ridiculous French maid outfit to tempt me into fucking her on the kitchen counter, over the arm of the sofa, or on the washing machine, but never in my bed. I pay her well for cleaning and only cleaning, but the kinky fucks have always been a nice perk. Well, until Abby.

  “Could you watch TV in here?” she asks, nodding over to the flat screen mounted on the wall. At the same time, the sheet just so happens to fall, bearing her beautiful boobs to me. She doesn’t fight fair.

  “Okay,” I agree with a sigh. Untying my shoes, I pull off my shirt and lower my pants again before climbing into bed naked with her. With my back propped against a few pillows on the headboard, I grab the remote from the bedside table and flick on the television. I haven’t even started flipping through channels when Abby wraps her arms around my chest and cuddles up to me. Her tits are like two miniature heaters against my chest with her round belly protruding into my abs. When it growls, I’m almost worried it might take a bite out of me.

  “Hungry?” I ask.

  “Um-huh. Always,” she replies. “I’m starting to worry that she might be born gigantic like one of those twenty pound babies. There’s a reason Chihuahuas don’t mate with Mastiffs. No way this is gonna be a natural birth.”

  “The bigger the healthier, right?” I ask, reaching down to rub her belly like a lamp. If only I could have three wishes, I would make Abby’s cancer disappear, have this little girl be born perfectly healthy, and become the best light heavyweight fighter in the world. “So what do you want to eat? I’ve got Lucky Charms, or do you want to order a pizza?”

  “Pizza! Fuck yes, with cucumbers on it!” Abby lifts her head and exclaims.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. Order from Luigi’s. They have salads, so they can take the cucumbers from there and put it on the pizza. Easy. Just half, and then you can have whatever you want on your half.”

  Sliding out from under her, I get up to retrieve my phone from my pants pocket. Once I find the number, I give the man our order, having to repeat the part about cucumbers twice before they agree to make such a bizarre concoction. It doesn’t matter. I’ll make the pizza myself for her if I have to. Having Abby here, not just in my bed, but getting ready to have dinner with me is nice. Really nice. I love her sense of humor almost as much as I love her naughty side. But I’m scared of getting too used to the amazing way it feels to be with her in case it doesn’t last.

  ...

  Abby

  I don’t know how long I had been asleep when the doorbell ringing wakes me up. I’m not just talking about one simple ding-dong. No, it was more like, ding-dong…ding-dong…ding-dong on repeat until Senn cursed, pulled on his jeans and went to open it. Unable to go back to sleep, I lie in bed for a few moments before it hits me. One of his slutty hookups must be here!

  Rolling my fat ass out of bed, I throw on Senn’s abandoned Havoc tee and walk toward the voices.

  “You got what you wanted, so get the fuck out of here.” I hear Senn’s raised voice before I step into the living room.

  “Whose Beemer’s that in the driveway?” A man’s deep, slurred voice asks. Okay, so it’s not a hookup. “Some gold digger screwing you for a new ride?”

  “That’s none of your fucking business!”

  “She only wants you for your money. You know that, right? She’ll drain you dry—” The sentence is interrupted by a loud whomp like something or someone hitting a wall. Maybe it’s just the sound of my heart snapping in half after hearing this asshole tell Senn that his money is the only reason a woman would ever want him. Who would say such a thing?

  “While I appreciate your concern for my money, my girlfriend actually has her own piles,” Senn snarls at the man. “Now get the fuck on!” Despite all my questions about what’s going on, the G word stands out. Did he really just call me his girlfriend?

  The door slams, followed by the click and chain of locks being put in place before Senn comes back into view. His bare chest is heaving as he shoves his fingers through his long, wavy hair. He stops abruptly when he sees me leaning against the doorframe of the hallway entrance.

  “Sorry,” he says simply, his voice sounding tired. We both stand there silently while I wait for him to explain. Instead, he just says, “Go back to bed, Abby.”

  “Who was that?” I ask, not letting him off the hook that easily.

  “No one,” he answers when he walks past me. I follow him back down the hall and to the bedroom where he takes off his pants and falls face first into bed. I join him, leaving his shirt on since it’s a little chilly with the air conditioner on full blast.

  With his face buried in the pillows, it’s obvious by the tense cords of muscles in his shoulders and back that he’s still uptight about whoever his midnight visitor was. So, I climb on top of the mountain of a man, straddling his hips to massage the tension out of him with my thumbs. I start at his thick neck, and it doesn’t take long befor
e he relaxes underneath me. When I work my way down either sides of his spine, he finally speaks.

  “That was my dad.”

  “Oh?” I ask in surprise. “He must be a night owl.” And an asshole.

  “He’s a money grubbing leech who sleeps all day and drinks all night,” is Senn’s muffled response since he doesn’t lift his head from the mattress.

  “So he shows up here in the middle of the night for money?”

  “Yeah,” he says on an exhale. “First of the month, middle of the month. Whenever he and my mom need more.”

  “Doesn’t he work?” I ask.

  “Fuck no,” Senn replies gruffly. “I don’t think he’s worked a day in his life.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “Hell no. She’s worse than him. At least he occasionally sobers up enough to leave the house.”

  My hands pause on his back as I think that over. Senn’s parents are dependent on him for money, not the other way around like it should be.“But then how did they afford shit before you had money to give them?”

  “Stole it if they used up what they got from welfare. Booze always came first; and if anything was left over, then they bought food.”

  “And you were raised like that?” I ask, completely appalled.

  “Yeah,” he mutters after my hands resume working out the kinks in his lower back. “Lived on free breakfasts and lunches from school. In the summer, well, I stayed at friends’ houses a lot.”

  “I’m sorry. That must’ve been awful.” He doesn’t respond, telling me it was probably even worse than I can imagine.

  “I actually have them to thank for getting me into fighting,” Senn says. “If I hadn’t been kicking ass in underground fights, Linc wouldn’t have seen me and recruited me to train with his coach.”

  “When did you start fighting?” Finished massaging his back, I move over to his biceps. It seems like as long as I keep my hands moving he keeps talking.

  “I was fifteen the first time they threw me into a cage with no training or warning whatsoever.”

  “Holy shit,” I gasp, imagining a younger, smaller Senn in the cage. He was probably terrified. “What happened?” I ask.

  “Well, luckily I had plenty of experience taking hits, so once the guy wore himself out swinging at me, I finally hit him back. Won by knockout in the third round.”

  “How bad were you hurt?”

  “Mostly just bruises. I was pretty numb afterwards. My dad gave me shots of whiskey until I blacked out.”

  “Wow. He deserves the father of the year award,” I blurt out before I even consider the words. Only when I hear them do I regret saying them. I’m such a bitch. For weeks I’ve basically been telling Senn that he’s not capable of being a decent father to our daughter. But coming from that fucked up family, I would bet that he knows everything not to do.

  “Senn, you know it’s nothing personal, right?” I eventually say into the heavy silence, trying to explain. “I just want what’s best for her…”

  “Me, too,” he says softly before he rolls over to his back with me still straddling his hips. “I’m just not convinced that Linc and Claire are what’s best. I’m not saying I am either, because I don’t have the slightest fucking idea how to take care of a baby. But I…I think I wanna try.”

  Seeing the sincerity in his amber eyes, I bite down hard on my bottom lip to try to prevent the dam from bursting. The tiny hint of pain doesn’t do any good to prevent the flood. This one has been a long time coming. I fall forward, sobbing onto Senn’s chest.

  “I want…to be the one…who takes care of her,” I tell him as my entire body shakes with the force of all the emotions I’ve kept bottled up exploding from inside me. I’ve tried to keep a grip on them because I didn’t want to chance stressing out the baby, but I can’t do it anymore.

  “Shh, Abby. It’s gonna be okay,” Senn says while he holds me.

  “No, it’s not,” I tell him with a shake of my head. I’ve withheld from everyone the initial prognosis my oncologist gave me months ago, before I was even pregnant. There’s no amount of chemo or radiation to save me this time. “I’m scared of dying…but I’m even more terrified…of losing her…if I don’t make it long enough.”

  “You can’t think that shit,” Senn says. “You’re gonna see her born healthy, and then you’re gonna do whatever it takes to get better, so you can take care of her.”

  I reach down to rub my expanding belly when I feel the familiar sloshing. “She’s moving,” I tell him through the sniffles. “You can’t feel it on the outside yet, but she is.”

  Senn brushes his knuckles over the side of my stomach. “I bet she’s giving me a fist bump because she knows I’m right,” he says, making me laugh. “What’s the earliest you can have her?”

  “Probably thirty-four weeks, but thirty-six would be better to make sure her lungs are strong.”

  “So that’s what, nineteen more weeks?” he asks, surprising me that he remembers how far along I am.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Seventeen at least?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Easy,” he says. “Keep calm and spend the next four months buying baby shit and thinking about the long term instead of the short term. By Thanksgiving we’ll be sitting down for a family feast, laughing about how freaked out we were for nothing.”

  “You gonna cook?” I tease even though it hurts to think about not being with him in just a few months. “‘Cause I don’t know how, and my family has sort of disowned me.”

  “What? Why would they do that?”

  “Um, well, they’re not big fans of the baby out of wedlock, especially since this is my second offense, and they’re also pissed that I won’t get treatment. I guess by cutting ties with me now, they think it’ll be easier to say goodbye—”

  “That’s bullshit!” Senn exclaims, lifting me off his chest to see my face.

  “That’s my lovely family,” I laugh sadly, wiping away the remaining wetness from my tears. “My sister is still talking to me; but if my parents find out, she’ll be on their shitlist, too.”

  “Wow,” he mutters. “Guess this little girl is fucked when it comes to dolting grandparents.”

  I can’t hold in my giggle. “I think you mean doting.”

  “No, they all qualify as dolts.”

  “You’re right about that,” I agree.

  “I’m sorry I knocked you up,” Senn tells me randomly while stroking his palms up the outsides of my thighs still straddling him.

  “You don’t have to apologize for a condom failing us,” I assure him as I trace my fingertips along the indentions of his pecs and abs.

  “Well, then I’m sorry we ever had sex,” he says softly. “If you’d been given a choice, I know I’m not the man you would’ve picked to be the father of your child while you have cancer.”

  “I wanted to fuck you,” I reply since I can’t deny what he already knows the truth about. “And that wasn’t all bad, so I don’t regret it.”

  “Wow.” He laughs, bouncing me on his chest. “Wasn’t all that bad?”

  “Okay, it was pretty good.”

  “Just pretty good?” he repeats, reaching up to yank on my braid.

  “Fine,” I huff and roll my eyes. “It was the best I’ve ever had.”

  He chuckles. “Right, now I know you’re blowing smoke up my ass.”

  “That’s the truth,” I tell him. “A dying girl wouldn’t dare tell a lie. I’ve got to get right with the Lord and stay on the WWJD path.”

  “Bullshit,” he says before rolling us over so that my back’s on the mattress. He’s careful to keep his weight on his forearms, so that he’s barely touching my stomach when he smirks down at me. “I know you’re lying about me being the best since you still go around acting like Linc’s got a chocolate-filled cock that you want to melt in your mouth.”

  I burst out laughing at that creative description. “That’s hilarious,” I remark, running my fingers through his hai
r. “But not exactly true.”

  Senn raises his eyebrow as if waiting for me to continue with an explanation.

  Slapping a palm over my embarrassed face, I finally admit the truth. “His cock was too big.”

  “No such thing,” Senn says immediately, lifting my hand and holding it out beside my head, so I have to look at him.

  “My vagina disagrees.”

  He looks down the length of my body. “You took two cocks at the same time the other day.”

  “Yes,” I respond as I blush even harder. “It was made to stretch wider, not deeper. There’s only so far you can go before you hit the dead end.”

  “I hit the dead end. You like it when I hit the dead end,” he points out.

  “That is true,” I agree when my boobs tingle and pussy throbs just at the thought. “But then you turn around instead of trying to force a few more inches inside.”

  “Seriously?” he asks in disbelief.

  “Absolutely. I can’t tell a lie or my stomach will get bigger,” I tease. Looking at my expansive bump and then up at him, with all his massive, chiseled from stone perfection, hovering above me… Well, there’s a reason he gets inside more cunts than a gynecologist.

  “What’s with the frown?” he asks.

  “I’m huge.”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “Yes, and I’m fine with that. I just…I don’t know how you and Luke can get it up when I’m naked.”

  “Getting it up isn’t the problem,” he says, grinding his thick, swollen cock into my pelvis and making me gasp. “Trying to keep it down is a little harder.”

  Leaning down, he cups one of my breasts and sucks the nipple into his eager mouth. That’s all it takes to have me soaking wet between my thighs. His mouth slowly works its way up my chest and neck, making me squirm desperately underneath him. I reach around and squeeze his tight ass, trying to force him against me. When he chuckles against my jaw, I go in for the kill, slipping my hand between our bodies to wrap my fist around his cock and guide him inside me.

 

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