Non-Con anyone??!?!? :P
Fighters take the
ultimate prize for victory…
Underage KC snuck into the underground fight club called The
Cage. But it was no ordinary fight club. The participants didn’t battle for
titles or a useless belt to collect dust. The men and women brawled for only
one thing. To be the victor and take the spoils of war they’d earned with their
blood, sweat and tears. Not for money or jewels. They fought for the right to
take the loser in any way—and any hole—of their choosing.
But KC was discovered by one of the bouncers and taken to a
room with no way out. To the office of the owner, Creed, who held more than
just her fate in his hands…
He’d seen hundreds of warriors find their way to his door
with visions of grandeur and conquest. But it took a girl not yet a woman to
remind him why he worked so tirelessly day in and day out. Her eyes. They would
haunt him long after he threw her out of his arena and told her never to
return.
Years later, they meet again, and KC is ready to take her
place amongst his fighters. Creed wants nothing to do with the woman she’s
become, but their fate has an interesting way of setting things right.
Consent has never seen this kind of fight club…
Excerpt -
“Oh. That makes sense.” She chewed on the inside of her
cheek. “And there’s a big fan base for that?”
She took it all in stride and, of course, had more
questions. “We’ve had quite a few fans ask about it along with several of our
fighters bringing friends in who wanted to apply for a position. We don’t wait
for trends. We create them.”
“Fascinating.” Whispering the word, she seemed to say it for
herself alone.
“What is?”
“That you’d be okay with it. That the owners would.”
“Explain.”
She shrugged and found a very interesting patch of ground to
stare at. “I’ve watched you the other times I’ve snuck inside. How you’ve
interacted with the other fighters. The employees in the stands. You’re…”
Pausing, she closed her eyes, blinked up at him, and then stared at the ground
again. “Harsh, I guess. I certainly didn’t expect you to be tolerant of other
people’s gender issues. In person, you’re not at all what I expected.” She
shrugged, showing a lot more of her age, which made it much easier for him to
scowl at her.
Trying to get the chitchat back on track, he sneered a bit.
And it had nothing to do with the fact her opinion of him squeezed his heart.
Fuck that. He had no time for little girls or little girl dreams. “If they can
make me money then I’m all for it. We’ve seen interest from several directions,
and I sure as hell know how to turn a profit when it comes to the oldest
profession on record.”
“Prostitution? Really? That’s what you’re going to equate
fighting and taking in The Cage to?”
He shrugged. “People in their seats are paying to see people
fuck someone else.”
“If the fighters were fucking the people in the seats after
they paid to sit there, then it would be considered prostitution.”
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet…”
Her head tilted to the side as she studied him.
“Shakespeare? Romeo and Juliet? Really? Pretty sure he didn’t know that
reference would ever come full circle. Especially not in an establishment such
as this.”
Bowing to her, he was able to hide his grin at her knowledge
of literature. She may not have had it easy, but she sure as hell wasn’t some
stupid ditz.
“How long have you worked here?” she asked as he stood to
his full height once more.
“I own here.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You’re the owner of
Gladi-Rapers? Holy shit. No wonder I couldn’t figure out who the owner was.
Hiding in plain sight. Brilliant.”
Hearing her say the name shouldn’t have made his dick hard.
He shook his head trying to clear it.
“So you’re not?” she asked with a whole lotta confused
teenager attitude thrown in.
Operative word being teenager. “Teen” plus “ager” equaled
jail time, and he really needed to remember that. “I am the owner, but we’re
not discussing anything else. Because you’re too young, and you’re leaving.”
“But I have so many more questions.”
“Too bad.”
Disappointment bled from her, and he almost caved. Almost.
Shit. Last thing he needed to do was fall for some underage girl with pretty
green eyes.
Fuck.
He knew what color her eyes were.
Kicking her out became the only thing he could focus on.
It wasn’t the only thing he wanted to focus on. Not even
close. But the rest of what he wanted wasn’t meant to be. “You need to go back
to school.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate
it.”
“I have to work to eat. There are only so many hours in the
day.”
“Then take the time you spend sneaking in here where you
have no business being and go back to school.” She opened her mouth, but he
talked right over her. “We’re sealing the windows shut that you’ve been getting
in through, and an alarm and camera company will be here tomorrow. So don’t
even think about trying to sneak in again. This is your one free pass. If I see
you again, I will press charges with implications that will haunt you for the
rest of your life.”
Silence, but only for a second. “Wait. You aren’t calling
the cops on me? Trying to reach my parents, which I don’t have by the way? Or
my fosters? Or the CPS chick sent to save me?”
His heart twisted in his chest, making him want to reach for
her. Instead, he walked to his office door and laid his hand on a pad beside
it. The lock on the door popped open, and he held it wide, silently waiting for
her to join him.
One huffed breath and a grumble or two later, she stood
behind him.
He ushered her out, shut the door, and to keep from reaching
for her again, he crossed his arms over his chest as they walked. “No, I’m not
calling anyone. As long as I have your word you won’t be back, I’m going to act
as if I’ve never seen you before.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she whispered as they walked
down the hall.
Sadness destroyed her smile, and he hated seeing it. Talk
about a distraction he didn’t fucking need.
The closer they got to the stadium, the louder the voices
and chants echoed off the walls beside them.
They got to a fork in the building. She tried to go left
toward an open archway, but he grabbed her elbow. He couldn’t let her go any
farther, but he couldn’t drag her away either. He knew how the ring called to
him, and if the look on her face was any indication, it called to her as well.
Creed caught only a glimpse of the fighters on the mat. His
fighter had the other pinned beneath him. The ref lay on his stomach, waiting
with a whistle between his lips. Creed’s fighter almost choked out his
opponent, the other man tapping out at the last minute. The ref blew the
whistle, signaling the end of the match. His fighter let go, jumping to his
feet.
Another win for his Gladi-Rapers.
Kempest yelled, the veins in his neck standing out as he
gave the crowd exactly what they’d paid for. Ripping his clothes from his body,
he held a condom between his teeth and fisted his adrenaline-filled cock. The
trainers of Brutus woke him and checked his vitals.
Brutus stood, admitting defeat as he began to undress with
jerky movements.
Kempest would have another fight on his hands to get Brutus
pinned so he could fuck him. Creed knew how much Kempest relished that final
round. How it fed something inside the man who was rolling the condom down his
thick erection as the men squared off again.
CK’s head tilted toward the stadium as he moved her down the
hallway toward the exit.
He’d won. Creed had. As her head finally turned and faced
the front, he knew he’d won. They moved toward the empty hall. Toward the doors
coming closer and closer. He’d beat her. But at what cost?
Some of the light dimmed in her eyes, which pissed him off.
Then he got pissed because it pissed him off.
He pushed the door open and held it for her as she slipped
past.
Her eyes narrowed at him, and he could see her resolve
settling around her like armor.
She had a fighter’s soul. He’d seen it before.
She opened her mouth to say something, but he shut the door
in her face.
Sending a prayer to the heavens that he never saw her again
seemed as if it were more than a tiny bit of a lie.
Her green eyes and her astute questions were two things he couldn’t
afford to get lost in. She was one complication his life didn’t need.
That his heart ached as he walked back to the stadium...?
Creed shook his head, then made himself forget her.
Still, he wondered when he would see her again.
Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey
Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living
with her miniman in Texas and New York. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her
dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The
best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle
for anything less.
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