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  “I’ll admit it. I underestimated you, especially for how tiny you are.” He rubbed the back of his head. “And I appreciate the cushion.” He eyed her purse as he picked it up and handed it back to her. “And my wife appreciates it, too. Getting another concussion right now would not be ideal. You’ll have to show me that move sometime, so I can use it against you next time. I mean, so I can return the favor or pay it forward.” He offered his hand with a grin. “Boomer.”

  KC smiled and shook his hand. It was the size of a dinner plate, and she wanted to mentally pat herself on the back for taking him down. “KC. Nice to meet you.”

  “Let’s go. I don’t have all day.” Creed stepped around her and strode toward the ring.

  She took a step closer to Boomer and whispered. “Is he always so grouchy?”

  “I can still hear you,” Creed called as he turned around and stared her down.

  Leaning toward Boomer, she covered her mouth, “So is he?”

  “It’s worse at the moment. Don’t know why. He’s going to be really hard on you. Bring the thunder, sweetheart.”

  “I’m not leaving here without a fight.”

  “And a fight you’re going to get.” He nodded toward the ring.

  The girl who had been training before was eying her over the side of the ring, cracking her knuckles. She looked down at Creed who was talking to her. Nodding she stepped back and stretched her arms to the side, her neck, and then jumped up and down a couple times.

  Everyone gathered around the ring as KC approached it.

  “Ready for your interview?” Creed asked her with a fair share of self-satisfaction dripping from every word.

  She shrugged again and made a somewhat uninterested face. “Sure. What questions do you have?”

  “No questions actually. Just a statement. Get in the ring and fight. Win, and then we’ll talk. Lose. Well… Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.”

  “Fine with me.” Not exactly what she’d hoped for, but pretty much what she’d expected. She’d wanted time alone with him.

  Rolling her eyes at her own naïve wishes, she got her head focused on the fight at hand. Dropping her purse, she bent down to rummage around in it.

  Creed hovered over her, crunching her papers in his fist as he watched every move she made. “Do you want gloves in pink with ruffles so you don’t break your nails during the fight?”

  “Nope. I have my own pretty gloves, but thanks for your concern.” She grabbed purple tape and wrapped a few turns around her knuckles, then stripped off her tank top and pants. The black sports bra and purple hot pants beneath were all she needed to fight.

  Grabbing a ponytail holder from her purse, she slipped it over her wrist. Quickly, she French braided her hair and secured the end. Bending over to snag her mouth guard she knew every gaze on her side of the ring was plastered to her ass. Wondering if they could tell how wet her pussy was for the man glaring down at her didn’t do her any good in strategizing for the fight. She stood and looked up into Creed’s piercing blue eyes.

  His upper lip lifted in a snarl. “You have one chance to prove to me you have any place here. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “I heard you the first time.” Walking around him, she ignored him completely and stepped into the ring. Into…The Cage. The bars still weren’t down, which wouldn’t work to her advantage, but she could still win. No doubt in her mind.

  Boomer stepped into the ring behind her and moved to the center where he beckoned them both forward. They met in the middle, and the other girl eyed her with open contempt.

  Whatever. KC smiled at her, making it all teeth.

  She wasn’t there for a popularity contest. Not to make friends or plan sleepovers.

  Creed’s face flashed across her consciousness.

  Well.

  Maybe one sleepover.

  Winning. That’s why she stood there, facing the other woman. They weren’t on the same team yet, nor would they ever be if KC couldn’t beat her into submission or choke her out or convince her to tap out so she won by default.

  Strategy filtered through her mind as her heart rate increased, and she slipped in the mouth guard to keep her teeth protected. She wasn’t worried about them. The other chick wouldn’t get a chance to touch her.

  Boomer grabbed them both by the backs of their necks and spoke low. “No biting, no gouging. Don’t kill each other.” He stared at the other girl. “Allyson, kick some ass.” He squeezed KC’s neck. “Okay, newbie, show us what you got. Winner takes—whatever they want.” His amusement was quite evident as he released them and took a step back.

  KC was ready for the cheap shot the other girl threw before Boomer had even fully moved away. KC blocked the kick the other girl tried, then kicked her other knee.

  If she were a less experienced fighter, KC could have done a lot of damage, but she did it in such a way the other girl just went done. Her pride hurt but nothing else.

  The other fighter scrambled back up, her eyes narrowed. They circled each other, and KC simply waited. The other girl was antsy and kept fake-lunging, and then drawing back. KC never reacted and certainly didn’t waste her energy falling for diversionary tactics as if she were a rookie on the mat for the first time.

  Finally, the girl advanced, throwing a series of punches. Spot on, fast, with follow through. Good technique. KC settled into the rhythm, blocking them all, but barely. She parried the blows, waiting for it, waiting—

  Throwing a punch with her right hand she caught Allyson across the jaw. She’d heard them talking to her when she first walked in that she kept dropping her left shoulder. Sooner or later, KC knew she had to fall into the same bad habit.

  Fast, KC hit her two more times on the other side to distract her, and then took her feet out from under her again. Down to the mat they went. As Allyson tried to wrap her legs around KC, KC flipped her over, trapped her between her thighs, and then wrapped an arm around her throat.

  Several gasps was all the other fighter got in before KC tightened her grip. Pulling with her other hand, she closed off the girl’s windpipe. Only a short struggle ensued before the other girl tapped out.

  Boomer was right next to them, and he smacked the mat beside them. “Match. KC wins by forfeit.”

  She relaxed, and Allyson flopped onto the mat, sucking in oxygen like she’d forgotten what it tasted like. KC collapsed next to her, adrenaline pumping inside her as another victory settled on her shoulders.

  The other chick rolled onto her side and stared at KC. “Damn.” That was all she said, but KC could tell she was surprised that she’d been beaten.

  Sure as hell worked for her.

  “KC.” Boomer drew her attention so she rolled her head to the side and looked up at him. “You win. Take what you want, but we don’t have all day.” The delight in his eyes told her he wished they had quite a lot of time to bestow upon the fruits of her victory.

  KC rose and sat back on her knees as she eyed the other woman. “Up on your hands and knees. I’ll be quick. I only want a little taste.” She expected the other girl to throw a fit, bitch and moan. Nope. She rolled over and smiled at her over her shoulder.

  “You earned it. Beat me fair and square. Damn, you move fast.”

  KC pushed her shoulders to the mat so her ass was raised to the ceiling. She moved her trunks to the side and licked her pussy. Soaked. KC took out her mouth guard and set it down, dipping a finger into the girl’s tight core. “Fuck, I love pussy.”

  “This is the best sport in the world. I lost, but somehow I win.” Allyson’s quiet voice spoke to her.

  “I know exactly what you mean.” She licked her again, shoving two fingers into her pussy, and then moved her wetness to her ass. “Only a taste. I told you only a taste, but now I want more.”

  “Enough,” bellowed an angry voice from outside the ring.

  Only one man could elicit such an instantaneous reaction from KC. Not knowing exactly where he was, she looked in the general directi
on she thought his voice came from and faced that direction as she bent down and licked Allyson’s dripping snatch.

  “I. Said. Enough,” he growled. There he was. He held her gaze as he walked to the side of the ring and pulled himself up and over the cords.

  “I won, did I not?” Fixing the other girl’s tiny shorts seemed in her best interest so she did that, and then smoothed a hand over the wet fabric one last time.

  They both stood as Creed advanced on them and KC grabbed her mouth guard.

  “Get out,” he told the other girl as he glared at KC.

  Allyson slid out of the ring sideways.

  Smart girl.

  “You think you’re something special?” he growled at her low enough she didn’t think any of the others even right outside the ring could hear.

  “Nope. I know I am.” She batted her eyelashes at him and blew him a kiss.

  “I don’t have time for you. Your attitude is going to get your ass handed to you when I kick you out.”

  My age, my attitude, what next? “Did you start a new milquetoast division I’m unaware of?”

  “Milquetoast? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “No. Are you?”

  He leered at her and somehow loomed over her even closer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “If Rage would have brought you milk and cookies, would you have let him even try out? Hell, no,” she answered over him before he could utter a single syllable. “Or Jackal? Bringing a reference from a Girl Scout troop leader, would you have given him the time of day? No.” Pointing to the men and women outside the ring, she continued with a glare. “Each of them has attitude, charisma, charm. The fighters have to so the fans get attached to them. So they know them. They’re drawn to them. Want them. That’s why they come back, week after week. To root them on and watch them fuck or be fucked. This isn’t your mama’s fight club. So when you ask me if I’m something special--fuck yes, I am. There aren’t many people out there who can meet your unpublished requirements. But I did. I met every one of them, and then some. Plus, I beat Allyson who’s been training for more than six months.”

  His eyes narrowed, and the muscles in his jaw tensed and released, over and over. “How do you know how long she’s been training?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “I don’t like your attitude.”

  “Tough. Titties.” Was she pushing his buttons? Yes. Could she stop? Maybe. She huffed at him, then let down one of her walls a teensy bit. “Give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking for.” And cock. She almost added the last part, but stopped herself just in time.

  She could have heard a pin drop as they all waited for his answer.

  It came in the form of him stripping off his shirt and throwing it in the corner of the ring. Good. Lord. The man had muscle on top of muscle. She gawked at him, until he leaned in close enough she could feel his breath on her lips. “Let’s see how you deal with a real opponent. Since you already know you could be fighting anyone of either gender.”

  “In the same weight class,” she gritted out, excitement setting her heart thrumming.

  He shook his head. “That’s about to change. We’re going to mix it up this season, and some of our fights are going to be televised this year on Pay-Per-View. We’ve hit the big times, so I don’t have time to deal with the likes of every two-bit fighter who thinks they have what it takes to be a Raper.”

  Need, and some real trepidation, sent desire racing to her pussy. KC slipped in her mouth guard again. There was no doubt in her mind her interview was about to get physical with the boss. The casting couch could eat its heart out.

  “Creed, you want a guard?” Boomer asked him as he already started walking away to get one.

  “No. I’ll be done with her before you could even get back with it. She’ll never touch me.”

  “Don’t count on it, pretty man.” If he wanted to heckle, she could shovel it right back. “I’ll try to leave your face recognizable though. I’m a lady like that.”

  His dark grey gi pants made his deeply tan skin even that much more enticing.

  Size mattered, especially when it came to fighting a rival so much bigger than her. Taller made his legs longer, and he could sweep her feet out from under her if she wasn’t careful. His reach was longer, and he could hit a hell of a lot harder.

  But she was lighter, faster, and knew her way around a man of his size.

  Rage climbed in and stepped to the center of the ring. “I don’t even know what rules he wants to play by, so I’m not gonna stand here and spout any bullshit. I’m here to make sure nobody dies.”

  “Simple rules,” Creed told them. “No biting, no gouging, just like always. But if you tap out…” He nodded at her. “You’re out of here, and don’t ever step through that door again.”

  “And when I win?”

  Glare wasn’t a strong enough word for the look he gave her. “Then I’ll consider keeping you.”

  Rage’s face said it all. Complete confusion.

  She was just as confused. If he didn’t recognize her, then was he this much of an ass to all of the women who tried out? That didn’t fit, because she’d seen him interacting with the other fighters during the shows she’d seen in the last year. He wasn’t like this. Not with anyone. Just her, she guessed. Oh. Goodie.

  Settling into her fighting stance, she shut everything else off. The other people in the room, her emotions, how horny she was—and how fucking good he smelled. All of it. She tamped it all down and focused on her new opponent.

  Fitting to have to fight him to stay.

  Creed relaxed into a stance that looked a lot like Tae Kwon Do, and Rage held a fist between them. “And…fight.”

  Creed moved like lightning. A flash, and his foot collided with the arm she blocked with to keep him from kicking her side.

  She jabbed quick twice, following up with a roundhouse kick. He thwarted it all with ease.

  “Five bucks says she goes down without ever hitting him once,” came a gruff voice from the side of the ring.

  “You’re on. She’ll draw blood, and he’s gonna be pissed.”

  Hearing other people around her never happened. Not while she fought.

  With a steadying breath, she tried to calm herself as she and Creed circled each other.

  He went low, trying to sweep her feet out from underneath her, but she jumped to avoid it. What she didn’t see was one of his hands poised to grab her foot while she was in the air.

  Yanking her to the mat, he almost got his arms around her. If he had, she’d have been a goner. She weaseled out as they grappled for each other, and she kneed him right in the mouth.

  Pure dumb luck on her part. Bad luck on his, being in the wrong spot at the wrong time. Scrambling to her feet, she eyed him and backed a couple steps away.

  His eyes.

  They spoke volumes as he stared up at her. Slowly, with purpose, he got to his feet and wiped blood from his lip.

  “Guess you should have waited for that bite guard.” Yep it was mouthy of her to point out. No doubt he’d throw it back in her face at some point, but talk about worth it to see his gaze narrow and his nostrils flare.

  At least he wasn’t unaffected by her and she was more than affected by how good a fighter he was. She underestimated him which she didn’t often do.

  She bent her legs slowly, circling her arms in a ready stance, ending with one hand outstretched toward him. She smiled and motioned him toward her. Yeah. Matrix. She couldn’t help herself.

  The rest of the crowd laughed, and she thought Creed almost cracked a smile, and then he exploded in movement again.

  Panic.

  It almost froze her in place.

  She’d never panicked in the middle of a fight. Not even her first fight, years ago, when she didn’t have a clue what she was doing much less the knowledge to win.

  Her speed saved her as she fought her way out of the corner.

  Damn, he smelled goo
d.

  What the fuck.

  She couldn’t afford to zone out with him as an opponent.

  Her emotions, her need for him, she couldn’t totally turn it off. Her attraction to him remained below the surface, fucking with her ability to find his weaknesses. That was where she truly excelled, exploiting other people’s flaws and using them to her advantage.

  Every weapon she had in her arsenal was ineffective against him.

  He was an immoveable mountain.

  Why he didn’t fight in the ring she’d never understand. Not after facing him. He was damn good. The Shadow of Death. She remembered his fighting name even though he’d only ever mentioned it in passing.

  Catching her off guard, he stepped in close. He grabbed her arms, took her feet out from beneath her and slammed her to the mat.

  Less than a heartbeat later, he had her on her stomach and almost pinned. With the last of her strength, she elbowed him in the ribs as hard as she could.

  His oof dug inside her, making her curse.

  Fuck, she wanted to beat him, and she couldn’t get the upper hand.

  With a knee in her back, he got an arm around her throat and squeezed. Straddling her, he lifted her off the mat, more than doubling how quickly he could choke her out since gravity fought right beside him.

  Black quickly ate at the edges of her vision, and she knew she’d lost.

  Just as she was about to tap out, he brushed against her ass, and there was no mistaking how hard he was. Turned on by fighting, or her, or fighting with her, she didn’t know. Didn’t care. Her moan slipped past her vocal cords, and instead of reaching for the mat, she reached for him. As she arched into him, she made contact for a portion of a second and he just…let go.

  Throwing her down on the mat made it sound gentle, but it jarred her more than the action itself did. Sucking in oxygen in great gasps, she curled onto her side. Not to rest, but to watch him as he snatched his shirt up and fled the ring.

  He ran from her.

  His weakness. She’d inadvertently found it. Her wanting him, giving herself to him, instead of giving in, made him walk away.

  “Get the fuck out of my way,” he yelled, but she didn’t know if he was talking to her or the people he bulldozed past on his trek to leave.