Sugar Boss

by Charity Parkerson

  “If you hurt my man, I’ll break your face,” Pytor yelled, making Maverick wonder which man Pytor considered his.

  They made it to the wall almost simultaneously. Each man leapt, catching hand and footholds. A growl rose in Maverick’s throat when Yaro shamelessly stomped Zander’s hand, causing him to lose his hold. While Zander scrambled not to fall, Yaro raced ahead to an upper platform with pegs on either side. Once there, Yaro grabbed two pegs and used them to stab the walls repeatedly from side to side, climbing higher. Obviously recognizing defeat, Zander pushed from the wall, leaping to the ground. Laughter rained down on them as Yaro reached the top.

  “You win,” Zander called up to him, sounding proud despite losing.

  “He cheats,” Maverick said, sending Zander spinning in his direction.

  A bright smile pulled at his cheeks. Zander barely looked winded. “It’s only fair. I cheated last time.”

  Maverick couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. “So, this is how you stay in shape. This is an amazing setup. I’m impressed.”

  Yaro scrambled down the wall and leapt, landing in Pytor’s waiting arms without even rocking the man on his heels. Maverick found himself staring as their lips met. He was learning all sorts of new things today.

  Zander spoke, tearing Maverick’s prying eyes away from the couple. “We didn’t have an expensive gym to go to growing up. All we had was the outdoors keeping us in shape. Cliff climbing and jumping off shit like we couldn’t die.” Zander shrugged. “Some things are harder to give up than others. We never grew out of this.”

  “So, you grew up with Pytor and Yaro?”

  Zander’s gaze skirted away. He headed toward a table where a bottle of water sat waiting for him. He cracked the lid. “In a manner of speaking.” Zander polished off half the bottle. “Did we wake you?”

  Zander’s hair was pulled back tight away from his face, but a few strands had come loose in his climb. Maverick tucked them behind his ear. “Nah. Your house is huge. Nothing happening on this end is bothering anyone in the bedrooms.” Their gazes met. Maverick’s throat went dry. “The bed felt empty without you. That’s what woke me up.”

  “You look so hungry right now.” Zander shook his head and a gorgeous smile tugged at his lips. He set his water aside. “I must make you tired with my constant bullshit.” Zander looked away as he made the claim.

  A ridiculous thought hit Maverick. He wondered if Zander was used to being told he was worthless. Maverick couldn’t imagine anyone saying anything like that to this amazing man, but sometimes Zander said things that bothered Maverick. He made Maverick think someone hadn’t treated him as he deserved.

  Without thought, Maverick closed the distance between them, uncaring of the sweat coating Zander’s skin. His fingers found Zander’s jaw, leaving the man no choice but to hold his stare. “What bullshit are you referring to? Your heated glances? I fucking love those.” He took Zander’s hand and led it to his hard cock. “I know you’re not calling the sexy things you do and say bullshit. Everything about you keeps me hard. It’s not possible for me to get tired of any of that.”

  Zander’s fingers shaped Maverick’s erection through his thin shorts. His expression punched Maverick in the chest. “Maverick, I—”

  “Zander, you should get your man up on the wall. I’ll race him.”

  Heat rushed to Maverick’s cheeks at Pytor’s bellowed words. Zander’s body probably hid what they were doing from view, but still. “Goddamn. See what you do to me? I completely forgot they were here.”

  Zander’s soft chuckle did nothing to help Maverick’s erection abate. “He has to stay healthy,” Zander called over his shoulder. “With sponsors coming to look him over, he can’t risk getting hurt playing around with us.”

  “Let me practice a little first. Then, I’ll accept your challenge another day,” Maverick yelled, adding his thoughts.

  Zander dropped his forehead to Maverick’s chest. His shoulders shook with laughter. Maverick wrapped his arms around Zander and held on tight, rocking side to side. This man, he’d stolen Maverick’s heart when he hadn’t been looking. No one else made him lose his head the way Zander did.

  Maverick’s lips brushed Zander’s ear. “I say we take a shower. In private. Where no one can see us.”

  Zander’s body shook harder. When he spoke, each word laced heavily with laughter. “He said, get your man up on the wall. If he only knew.”

  A snort escaped Maverick. He couldn’t help it. They were such a mess. Like teenage boys who couldn’t control their hormones or keep their hands to themselves. “I blame you,” Maverick said without an ounce of shame. “Hanging from hooks and jumping around all sexy. You’re like a very fuckable spider monkey.”

  Zander’s laughter turned into a guffaw. His guards both openly stared. Maverick steered him to the door while making monkey noises and holding Pytor and Yaro’s gaze as he passed. By the time they reached the hallway, Maverick wondered if he’d be forced to carry Zander, his laughter had gotten so out of control. Even Maverick’s heart smiled as he watched Zander trying to get himself under control. He was in love with this man. One day soon, he’d have to confront that. Today, he planned to fuck him in the shower.

  Six

  Maverick: I’m meeting Green at the bar to let him know I’m considering other offers. When I’m finished here, I’ll come by and we can cuddle all night.

  It was the third time today he’d messaged Zander with no response. He tried not to worry since Zander had his finger in so many pies the man never got to sit still. It was hard though. Maverick fought the urge to rush over there and check on him. He had things to do first. He’d been putting Jude off for almost three months while he trained for his first circuit match. Maverick didn’t have the heart to keep making excuses and dodging the man’s calls. It wasn’t in Maverick’s DNA to be dishonest. Before he could send another text to Zander, Maverick was interrupted.

  “Since you wanted to meet here, I’m assuming you’ve decided against a contract with me.”

  Maverick motioned for Jude to sit. “That’s not entirely true. Would you like a drink?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to a beer,” Jude said, claiming the bar stool next to Maverick.

  Maverick motioned for the bartender to bring Jude a beer. With new drinks in hand, Maverick focused on Jude. “When you first approached me, I didn’t have much time to think about your offer. Now that I’ve had some time to talk it over with my man, who is way smarter about business dealings than I’ll ever be, I’ve decided to enter one circuit match sponsor-less.”

  Jude nodded. “That makes sense. You have to look out for yourself, but you do realize you can enter a contract with me, and have other sponsors too, as long as they’re not competing products. Not to mention, unless your man has some connections I don’t know about, sponsors don’t usually show up to no-name matches.”

  Against his will, a smile snapped to Maverick’s lips. “Zander seems to think he can get Left Hook Energy Drinks and Coastal Clean Eats there.”

  “Zander?” Jude’s voice turned hard at the question. “Do you mean Zander Kapra?”

  Maverick nodded, feeling somewhat guilty. Despite Zander’s pep talks, which sounded reasonable at the time, Maverick still felt like he was cheating the system somehow. Jude was right. Sponsors didn’t usually show up to no-name fights. If he wasn’t dating Zander, neither of those companies would look for him.

  A self-deprecating smile touched Jude’s lips. “I should’ve seen this coming. I have no problem with you being represented by Left Hook too, but Coastal is a direct competitor. Kapra played me hard with you.”

  Maverick’s brows pulled together. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m the one who decided to do what’s best for me.”

  The disbelieving chuckle coming from Jude sounded entirely too patronizing to Maverick’s ears. “Let me guess, all this is your idea, but Zander had it first. You do realize that Left Hook Energy drinks and Coastal Clean Eats ar
e both owned by your boy, right?”

  A snort escaped Maverick without his permission. “Zander wouldn’t pull that shit on me. He knows how I feel about him throwing his money at me.”

  Jude appeared genuinely confused. “How do you think I found you?”

  Each breath Maverick took came harder than the last. He had a terrible feeling in his gut. “What? Are you saying that’s all Zander too?”

  Jude nodded. “Zander gave me a call and said there was a bet fighter I needed to check out. I should’ve known it was a game. He got me out there. I offered. Then, once he had you hooked on the idea of having a sponsor, he steered you toward choosing one of his companies instead. Honestly, I can’t believe I was so blind. Zander wouldn’t willingly hand me such an amazing fighter.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” Maverick argued, even though it did. It made perfect sense. Maverick would never accept Zander’s money. Zander knew it, so he found another way to buy Maverick. And Maverick had confronted him on it when Hendrix had alluded to the same damn thing. Zander had so easily made him believe it wasn’t true—that Zander had captured Green’s eye all on his own. Fuck. Maverick barely fought the urge to massage the spot in his chest where Jude had ripped out his heart by pointing out the truth.

  Jude just kept talking—like Maverick wasn’t silently dying. “I get that I can’t offer you the kind of money Kapra can, but at least what I’m offering is honest money. Your boy can’t say that. Keep that in mind.”

  Maverick’s face screwed up in confusion against his will. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He didn’t like anyone insulting Zander, even if Zander had lied to him. The man was his. No one talked shit about him.

  A deep line appeared between Jude’s eyebrows. He eyed Maverick and sighed before shaking his head. “I think you need to have a real discussion with your man before you get hurt, and I don’t mean emotionally.”

  “You’re the second person to get all cryptic with me about Zander. If you have something to say, just say it.”

  Jude shrugged. “Fine. If you want mafia money backing you, ensuring they’ll tell you when to win and when to take a dive, then go for it. I’m trying to offer you a real sponsorship into the big leagues.”

  Maverick’s mind blanked. Of course, he’d heard rumors about who really ran the league, but he didn’t believe them. “I know a shit ton of fighters and not once have I heard of anyone intentionally taking a dive.”

  Jude’s smile screamed that he thought Maverick was an idiot. “You wouldn’t hear it, would you? Those contracts come with non-disclosures.” Jude stood and pushed away from the bar. “Look, I’m not going anywhere. If you want to talk things over with Kapra, get some answers, and then get back to me, I’m cool with that. You’ve got my number. Thanks for the drink.” Jude paused as if hesitant to say more before obviously deciding he would. “You seem like an amazing guy to me, Maverick. I’d love to back you on your way to the top, but not so much I’d lie to you about anything. Even if you decide you don’t want to work with me, I’ll be around if you need me. Kapra is dangerous. I don’t know how he’ll react if he figures out he doesn’t own you. If you need help getting out, call me.”

  Maverick wanted to lash out at the assumptions Jude kept throwing around, but too many things were clicking into place inside his mind. The security, everyone tiptoeing around him, and Zander never telling him much about his past. The accent that peeked out sometimes. Rather than snapping on Jude, since it wasn’t the man’s fault Maverick had been blind, he gave Jude a sharp nod.

  “Thanks, man. I’ll keep your offer in mind.” After shaking Jude’s hand one final time, Maverick motioned for the bartender to bring him the check. Even though he was certain Zander would never get mixed up with the mafia, it was time for them to talk. Maverick shook his head as he moved for the door. Even to him the idea seemed beyond ludicrous. No doubt, Zander would laugh his ass off over this one.

  Pytor barely spared Maverick a glance as he came through the door. “He’s in his office.”

  Maverick nodded and kept walking. He couldn’t stop. If he did, he might lose his nerve. The moment he set eyes on Zander, he knew. Zander probably wouldn’t be laughing at anything. In truth, Maverick wasn’t sure Zander was capable of laughter as high as he was. White smoke filled Zander’s office. It was so thick he could barely see. Maverick waved it away. His head spun from only walking through the haze. Zander looked a mess. His pink dress shirt was halfway unbuttoned, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The man’s hair stood in every direction.

  “I’ve been texting you all day. What the fuck are you smoking?”

  Zander shrugged. “Whatever Yaro dug up for me. I’ve had a rough day,” Zander explained before sprawling out on his couch and covering his eyes. “To be fair, my birthday always sucks.”

  “It’s your birthday?” Maverick couldn’t choose a topic to be pissed about the most.

  Zander peeked out from beneath his arm. “Don’t sound like that. I don’t celebrate the cursed day.”

  “This isn’t celebrating?” Maverick didn’t know why he couldn’t stop with the accusations. He was just so goddamn angry.

  “This is forgetting,” Zander answered. His words came out slurred.

  Maverick sat on the coffee table, braced his elbows on his knees, and leaned over Zander. He wished the man would tell him why he was the way he was, or at least look at him.

  “I need to ask you something.”

  A tiny smile touched Zander’s lips, but he didn’t uncover his eyes. “You’re always welcome to ask me anything.”

  “Jude says if I sign with anyone you’ve set me up with I’ll be forced to take a dive if ordered to do so.”

  An irritated sounding sigh escaped Zander. “How tiresome. No one has done that since the Conti.”

  Maverick blinked, trying to make sense of Zander’s words. “What’s the Conti?”

  “Italian mafia.” Zander’s words slurred but Maverick heard him right. “They used to run the west coast until Gio Conti pissed off a contract killer for the Russian mafia. He wiped them all out.” Zander swiped his free hand through the air as if Maverick didn’t understand what wiping them out meant.

  A pain bloomed in Maverick’s head. He didn’t know if it was from Zander’s claim or the secondhand smoke. “Are you being serious?”

  At Maverick’s question, Zander sat up and took another long drag from a lit red cigar in the ashtray before focusing on Maverick. “Completely. The Conti’s might have been Italian, but Gio, the family head, he was a huge fan of Russian street fighting. The brutality of it all appealed to his mean streak.” Zander massaged his face, as if having trouble staying lucid. “Anyhow, he brought fighters here from Russia and started an underground league. He did a lot of leaning things in certain people’s favor or a certain fighter’s way, depending on how deep the bets were or if he was trying to gain someone’s favor. Um.” Zander rubbed his eyes and sucked in another long hit. “Gio thought, since he’d started the underground, he controlled everything. The power went to his head. Then, he tried forcing the wrong fighter to do things his way. Turns out that fighter, Jozsua I think his name was, he was married to a contract killer.” A snort escaped Zander. “Didn’t end well for Gio.”

  Maverick’s mouth opened and immediately snapped closed. It all sounded... insane. Another thought occurred to him. Zander, Yaro, and Pytor were all Russian. And Zander had once said something about being a street fighter. “Wait. Were you one of the fighters Gio brought over from Russia?”

  Zander finished his cigar and sprawled out again before answering. “In a manner of speaking.” Maverick wanted to growl at how cryptic Zander always was when asked about his past. He fucking hated it, but Zander kept talking. “Gio, he always found his way to the streets where I fought.” Zander’s accent thickened to a level Maverick had never heard as his words slurred even more. “He had crazy in his eyes. That’s what I remember noticing first. Mama called him a d'yav
ol, a demon. She had no idea how right she was. If you won a fight, your family ate that week. That’s all that was in my mind as he watched me with those demented eyes.”

  Maverick rubbed his chest. He hated the way Zander’s words made him feel—like something horrible was coming, and Maverick would never unlearn what he heard here tonight. “What happened if you lost?”

  “You died.” Zander said the words so matter-of-fact.

  Maverick couldn’t draw a full breath. “Was it better for you, when Gio brought you here to fight?”

  “He didn’t bring me here to fight. I was brought here to warm his bed. My family was spared for my sacrifice.” With his eyes covered, Zander waved his free arm wildly. “It’s okay, though. He got all the Conti wiped out with his stupidity, and I got all this. So, you don’t have to worry,” Zander said, sounding half asleep. “No one will ask you to lose.”

  Maverick swallowed past his swollen throat. “Are you saying you’re now the mafia boss around here?”

  “I’m no boss.”

  “Hey, boss. I brought you another blunt.”

  At Yaro’s appearance, Zander uncovered his eyes and focused on Maverick. “That was a complete coincidence.”

  Yaro glanced between them. “I’ll come back.”

  Maverick couldn’t look away from Zander. Everything hurt. He didn’t know this man at all. “When you say you’re the one who owns everything now, does that include Left Hook Energy Drinks and Coastal Clean Eats?”

  Zander blinked as if he sensed a trap but was too high to avoid it. “Of course.”

  As the blow landed, Maverick’s eyes fell closed. “Damn. I really wanted to believe you wouldn’t do that to me.” Maverick shook his head, trying his ass off not to lose his shit. Even to his ears, he sounded entirely too calm as he spoke. “I honest to God thought you were only trying to help me not get screwed by sponsors. The whole time, you were setting me up to buy me, even though you knew I didn’t want that. You really did a great job of making me think I’d earned those sponsors. I knew you were too good to be real, but I kept drinking in all your lies because I wanted everything you said to be true.”