“Camden, why would you wish that?”
Lowering my head, I swallow. I don’t want to be in the ring anymore. I can’t. I get in the cage and become someone else. A monster I never knew I was capable of becoming. One I don’t ever want to become again. I can feel it though, the beast that lurks in the depths of my wellbeing waiting to be unleashed. He’s untamable, and dangerous. Nobody would understand where I’m coming from and they can’t. I signed an NDA, I might as well have signed away my soul.
Shaking my head of the thoughts, I place my hand on the small of Tate’s back.
“Come on, let’s find our seats.”
Conrad directs us to private seats up front. The arena is so loud I can’t talk to Tate so we just exchange eye glances. Silently speaking to each other.
“Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready to see Wade Hafferman, and Laner Geezman get it on!” The announcer booms through the intercom.
The crowd cheers in anticipation, but what really has me excited is Tate. I know Laner has the fight.
She’s at the edge of her seat, looking over the few rows in front of us. She’s really in her element. Maybe she is ready to fight. After all, this is what she’s wanted since I’ve known her.
I have wanted to be a fighter since I was a little kid too, but Tate, she has it in her blood.
Glancing at the ring Wade stands tall and lean, his red hair his Irish trademark. Laner bounces on his heels, circling Wade like a shark. Laner is short and stalky, his braided Mohawk popular amongst the ladies.
Wade is 7 and 1, and Laner is 6 and 2. Wade has won more fights, but mostly by tap out. Laner has been knocked out each time he’s won. He has the muscle, he’s just gotta think before he reacts.
The fight starts, and Tate goes from standing up to sitting down. Relaxing in my chair I rest my arm along the back of hers and watch her. I could care less about the fight. It’s her I’m more fascinated with. Staring at her makes my heart race, and my dick hard. Finding someone who knows this world, who shares the common hot headed temper that I do. It undoes me.
She looks at me eyes wide and says something, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying.
She laughs, grabs my face and points it in the direction of the fight.
Wade has Laner in a chokehold. My adrenaline spikes. I’m shocked. I surely thought Laner had this fight. Images flash quickly in my head of my fight in The Underground and I have to clench my eyes shut, willing the images to go away.
Exhaling a breath, I slowly open my eyes and focus on the fight, telling myself it’s not me in the ring, to relax.
Laner tries to fight the hold, but it’s useless, he taps out.
The crowd erupts in cheers and boos, and I am a little dumbstruck by the outcome. Tate jumps to her feet, booing. She even cheers for the same contenders I do.
Grabbing Tate’s hand I stand, the feel of her small fingers interlocking between mine, a comfort I didn’t know I was missing ‘til now.
She leans in, the smell of her circling me. “Where are we going?” she asks.
“To the hotel, where I can fuck you.”
She steps back, her chest rising as she takes a deep breath. Her eyes flick between both of mine, and I think she’s going to refuse, but then she nods. A vixen smile splitting her face.
Conrad exits us in a more secluded area than we came in, and we drive to a nearby hotel for the night. It looks posh, no doubt what’s left of my savings is paying for this night. It’s worth it though. Every dime.
Checking in a bellboy directs us to the elevator.
Once inside he keeps staring at Tate. She’s a pretty girl, any guy can see that. I’ll let that look over slide. He glances at her again, his eyes raking her up and down and my heartbeat speeds up, my hands clenching into fists.
The elevator dings, and they step out before I can grab him by the collar and lay my fist into him.
He takes us to our room and Tate opens it.
“Thank you.” She smiles at him, and enters the room. He nods, clasping his hands together but he doesn’t leave.
“Are you waiting for a tip?” I ask incredulously.
He smirks.
“That would be great, I mean I did walk you all the way up here,” he shrugs with a dopey grin.
I look down, rubbing my cheek. “Walked us all the way up here, huh?” I laugh.
Grabbing him by the shoulder I push him back a few steps to where Tate can’t hear what I’m about to say. I’m trying my best to be a gentleman tonight, but this fucker is pushing my buttons.
“You want a tip? Don’t eye another man’s woman, especially in front of him.” I squeeze his shoulder, and he shrinks in my hold, his knees buckling. “Especially a fucking fighter’s woman.”
“Yes sir,” he squeaks, his face pinched with pain.
I let him go, shoving him back a few steps.
“Fucking prick,” I mutter under my breath. Stepping inside the room, I kick the door shut.
Tate is standing in front of a large king size bed, her arms crossed.
“Was that necessary?”