Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Looking from me to Christy as she circles the cage with a smirking Mark, he asks, “She was holding you that long with just her thigh muscles?”
“Yeah, man, she’s got crazy leg control. But if she would twist them feet together, I would have to had to drop back on her in hopes she could be shaken off.”
“That’s good, means she’s got something to work with if they get her on the ground.”
Leaning up against the cage, I watch as they both go in for punches then quickly fade back.
“Chase, she’s the real thing. She’s gonna go places if we can get her trained up right. This could be a big thing for you and the school. She would be a hell of an addition to the fighter’s circle here. Too many posers lately, and she’s not one of them. She’s got fighting in her, she’s gonna be hell to fight against.”
Nodding his head, he warns, “Don’t fucking toss my students like that again.”
Laughing loudly, I back away, and say, “Self-defense.”
I head back over to Shane, the man who I have partnered up with for grappling ground work. I don’t plan on my championship match being on the floor a whole lot, but it’s always best to be prepared.
* * *
By the end of my grappling session, I am a sweaty, winded mess. Shane is the upcoming Welterweight star, and I can see why his reputation has become what it is. Fucker is fast, and a master at grappling someone to the ground. From there he just works you over until you’re too tired to put up a good defense.
Falling back against the wall, I sit next to Shane. “Holy fuck, dude. You’re a fucking terror.”
Laughing at me, he says, “Man, I threw my whole game at you. Fuck, you’re just as fucking hard to fuck with.”
Pushing up off the floor, I hold my hand out to him. “Don’t come up to Middleweight. I have no fucking desire to die in a ring with you.”
Accepting my help up, he says, “Don’t come down then and we’re good.”
Nodding my head, I walk off towards the back of the gym for the lockers. It’s close to leaving time for me and Christy. I need a shower and a couple bottles of water. It’s good to work up a sweat like I did, but I need to re-hydrate.
I don’t know what’s happened, but I get passed by a stomping Christy and she’s mumbling to herself. “Fucking asshole kept putting…”
I don’t get to hear the rest of what she had to say, and I’d chase after her—because if she’s that mad about the toss, I want to know—but I don’t belong in the women’s locker room. That might cause Chase to commit homicide.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to the men’s, resigning myself to finding out as soon as she is in the car with me.
Fuck, I hope I didn’t scare her away from fighting.
Raucous laughter greets me as I walk inside and I hear Mark’s guffaw. “She’s gonna love it when I give it to her.”
Turning the corner, I watch as he stands up and acts as if he is fucking some chick from behind as he slaps her ass.
My blood is at a boiling point just thinking of that little shit fucking even touching Christy… Him trying to fuck my Christy though, puts me on the other side of murder.
One of the kids I don’t know starts laughing . “Did you see how red her face got when you kept grabbing her tit on the ground?”
They don’t see me, and I’m pretty sure my face is getting just as red.
It’s about all I can do right now to walk away and head out to find Dale. He should have caught that shit; it’s too fucking easy for a person to take advantage of another person when they are locked up on the ground.
“Fuck yeah, I did. That’s how red her face is going to be when I shove my cock in her tight ass pussy. I’m going to make her my bitch. Little slut isn’t going to be some great fighter like all those guys think, not after I ruin her with this big dick!”
Fuck it, I’ll take the murder rap.
Turning right the fuck back around, I storm around the lockers. There must be something about my facial expression because the two guys facing me scoot back into the wall.
Not understanding what’s about to happen, Mark makes another obscene waggle of his hips as he loudly says, “Ride ‘em, cowboy!”
I stop within a hairs breath of him. Leaning forward, my voice comes out as a harsh rasp as I ask, “What the fuck did you just say about, Christy?”
His body instantly freezes in place.
Not giving him much choice, I grab his shoulder and whip him around to face me. He’s got an inch on me and maybe ten pounds, but it’s all flab. He’s a fucking poser, he’s just here to look cool. Pose and learn a few things he can brag about. He’s a bitch.