Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Mason snorts out a laugh, but then pretends it was a cough as Doug removes his arm with a frown.
I take a sip of my wine and wince, wondering how long it’s been open. I wonder if it was opened before I was legally allowed to drink.
“Our boy is up now,” Doug says, leaning in. “I bet three hundo on the fight.”
My eyes dart over to James as he steps into the cage. A thrill of excitement ripples through me from my head to my toes as I watch him shadowbox. He’s so sexy. So dark and dreamy.
I know I shouldn’t be attracted to men like him, but I can’t help myself. I’ve always preferred the villains to the heroes in books and movies. Especially the ones that had a good heart under all that gruffness.
James pulls off his hoodie and I hold my breath while my eyes feast on the show. He’s wearing nothing underneath and I feel overwhelmed as I take in all of that hard tattooed muscle.
He doesn’t look scared at all. He looks perfectly at home in that barbaric arena under those halogen lights with blood stains and barbed wire all around him. His breaths are slow and measured and his body is all loose and in control. He has a peaceful look on his flawless face as he shakes out his big round shoulders.
“Kick his ass, James!” Doug hollers.
James looks at our table and does a double take when he sees me sitting amongst his friends. His brown eyes intensify as he stares at me.
I smile shyly at him.
He smiles back, dark and seductive.
A deep throb makes itself known between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together as my body is filled with a lustful warmth.
“That’s Marv,” Doug says, leaning in. “He owns the joint.”
An older man with gray hair, a flannel shirt, and jeans that are too big for him walks into the cage holding a microphone. “Up next is a crowd favorite,” he bellows through the speakers. “Sizzling James Shields!”
The firemen around me pound on the table with their large fists while hollering. A beer tips over, and Ethan just sweeps it onto the floor with his hand. That explains the stickiness.
“Do we have a valiant warrior to challenge him?” Marv bellows. “Anyone brave enough to fight a firefighter?”
I look around the room, hoping no one accepts the challenge. I don’t want to see James’ beautiful face look any different.
“I’ll fight the fire prick,” a deep voice roars from the back of the bar. My stomach drops when I see the size of the behemoth marching to the cage. He’s massive. And terrifying. He has one of those leather biker vests on and looks strong enough to break every bone in James’ body with one punch.
James is hard chiseled muscle, but this guy looks like a shaved bear. He’s just big and strong and mean. He pulls his long black hair into a ponytail and then steps into the ring.
“Oh my,” I whisper when I see the size difference. James is big and tall—I was standing beside him earlier—but this man is gigantic.
I’ll die if I see James get hurt. It would be the cherry on an already shit sundae of a day.
I’m all nerves as I lean toward Doug. “Can we stop this? He’s going to get hurt.”
“Not my boy, James,” he says with a cocky smile. “You’ll see.”
I look at Mason for help.
He just grins. “You’ll see.”
I wish I had their confidence. James keeps shooting heated glances at me as Marv hypes up the fight. I feel like the most special girl in the world whenever he looks my way.
“Here we go,” Doug says, rubbing his hands together in excitement as Marv closes the cage.
The behemoth attacks immediately, swinging those monstrous fists, but James ducks away easily. He slams his fist into the giant’s ribs like a cobra striking and the man grunts hard.
“I taught him that move,” Doug says, trying to impress me.
“No, you didn’t,” Mason says with a laugh.
“Yes, I did!” Doug says like a petulant child. “It was before you started.”
Mason laughs. “Yeah, right.”
The big man keeps trying to hit James, but he’s too fast, leaping and darting out of the way like Muhammed Ali. It almost looks like he’s toying with him.
“Just stand fucking still and fight!” the man shouts in outrage.
“Alright,” James says with a grin. He plants his feet and lets his fists fly, cracking the guy in the face and gut with a flurry of punches. He finishes it off with a hard leg kick to the ribs that has the man wincing and stumbling backward. Blood trickles down from his eyebrow as he glares at James with pure hatred.
“Watch out!” I scream as the behemoth charges.
James’ focus is broken for a split second as he glances at me and the big man takes advantage. He cracks him right in the eye. James stumbles back and hits the cage as the man raises his fists and hollers a war cry. His friends in the back cheer.