PROLOGUE
Kyle
“Cage, Cage, Cage, Cage…”
The crowds cheering for me and I’m showboating like they want. Like they expect. They come out to these clubs to see Reckless. I’m gyrating my hips and making eyes at a woman who’s dancing with her girlfriend below the balcony I’m on. My dick starts twitching the closer she dances to her friend.
“You feeling like both tonight or are you going to be a good friend and throw the other one my way?” My best friend Preston asks.
“I have a feeling the brunette will be able to keep me completely occupied, have at it.”
Preston’s face becomes predatory. After getting permission it’s like open season and the blonde doesn’t stand a chance. It’s okay because neither does the brunette.
We walk down the stairs with one mission on our minds, getting balls deep inside those two as fast as humanly possible. When I walk up to my girl she throws her arms around my shoulders and starts moving with me to the beat. Damn she can move her hips… and you know what that means.
After downing a few more shots we make our way out of the club and into our respective cars. Before ducking into the back seat, I shoot Pres a wink and he dry humps the air.
Fuck yeah, this is the life!
I should have known my night would end like this. My brains barely functioning after having all those shots of patron followed by wayyy too many beers. Why are the hot ones always the disappointments?
“Oh my god! Yes Daddy, yes Daddy!”
Oh, the agony! If I weren’t so out of it, this chick and her long fucking nails would be left high and dry before getting thrown out of my hotel room. Don’t get me started on this Daddy bullshit.
I wince as her talons drag across my back for the hundredth time. Christ, I need to do something fast before all the skin is shredded from my shoulders. My hands leave their task of holding her pussy open to lock her hands above her head and far away from my tender flesh. My dick quickly gets swallowed, and not in a good way. This girl is all fucking lips if you know what I mean.
I feel the burning marks on my back like she’s still slicing me open. Scratching’s okay when you’re fucking but when it turns into some Freddy Kruger shit, it has to stop.
“Give me your magic stick Daddy!” Her hands fly to my scalp to start torturing my cranium. Goddamn it! My hands pry her fingers from my head before jumping off the bed. I’m motherfucking Kyle Cage! Fuck this shit.
“Grab your stuff and go.” I hear myself slurring.
“Um…what?”
She looks dumbfounded like she couldn’t possibly know what went wrong. It’s hard to tell if it’s an act or if she honestly has no idea what the hell just went down was probably in my top five worst sexual encounters. Seeing her hips sway on the dance floor should have been a sign that she was a great lay, not a fucking dud.
“I’m going into the bathroom to take a shower, I expect you to be gone by the time I’m done.” With a slam that’s probably not necessary, I close the bathroom door and pound my forehead against it. Damn, can’t a guy get laid without all the theatrics? I would have been better off getting myself off tonight.
Turning my back to the mirror, my eyes take in the damage. It looks like I was mauled by a freaking jaguar. I chuckle to myself, she’s not far off from a cougar I suppose. I love my women older and experienced. At the ripe age of 24 I usually don’t look for anyone younger than 30. Don’t judge, those older broads know how to suck dick like champs. Who knew the 40-somethings were all about MMA fighters? They go fucking crazy!
Getting the temperature just right, scalding, the water rains down on me and I breathe a sigh of relief. My alcohol induced haze is starting to wear off and taking this chick back to my hotel room is seeming extremely idiotic on my part. I’m supposed to be watching my image, not fucking it up more.
I chuckle to myself. That’s what my PR teams for.
My shower is short lived when I hear the bathroom door open and click shut a second later. My head hangs in defeat. Maybe I should just fuck her and get it over with. My number one task will be keeping her hands away from me which is easily solved with some bondage. They love it when I tie them up and fuck them from behind.
Some time has passed and she hasn’t spoken, let alone joined me. Oh well, her loss, I’m done now anyways. As I twist the nozzle to off, I grab my towel and sling it around my hips. When I’m out of the shower I see her sitting on the vanity fully dressed scowling at me.
“It’s not my fault you ended it, you owe me my share.”
“Excuse me darling? Your share of what?”
“That’s how these things work little boy. You pay to have sex with me. At least that’s how it’s been since I became a hooker.”
“The fuck?”
“Hand over the two grand.”
“You have to be psychotic to think I’m paying for that waste of time. Tell me, have you shredded a dude’s dick clear off before? There’s no chance I was going to be your first.”
“Fuck you, I’m good at what I do. Now give me the fucking money or I go to the tabloids.”
Shit, she knows who I am. Of course, she does, everyone knows who Kyle Cage is. I sigh knowing it’s from my little club appearance and everyone chanting my name but right now it’s easier to pay her rather than having a shit storm coming my way. I exit into the bedroom and grab my wallet. With a fist full of cash, I throw it at her feet. She doesn’t deserve to be treated as a decent human being after the shit she just pulled. A fucking prostitute. Looks like I’m scheduling a doctor’s appointment on Monday. God knows what this chick is carrying.
After picking it up, she approaches me and runs a single finger from the center of my chest to where my towel lies above my cock.
“Shame, I heard good things about you Reckless.”
With that she saunters out of the room and out of my life. Thank fuck for that.
Bullet officially dodged.
I don’t need the added pressure of lying low coming up on my next fight.
My phone goes off a while later as I’m watching a movie unable to sleep. After getting up and grabbing my phone off the desk, I see it’s a text from Maggie, the head of my PR. After groaning out loud wondering why the fuck she’s texting me so late, my finger swipes to unlock the screen. “CHRIST!” My ass finds the bed as I hunch over, elbows to knees, hands fisted in my hair.
This can ruin everything.
The reason why I’m in a hotel room is because the paps stake out my Las Vegas mansion. The big wigs called me in for a meeting a few weeks back because they’re none too pleased with my actions as of late and were extremely adamant they wanted me to tone it down. You party it up with strippers and get caught being sucked off in a public bathroom a few times and you can’t live it down. They shouldn’t give a damn what I do. I bring in a ton of money for them with every fight and I deliver every time.
This however… this could ruin me.
Maggie: Get to the airport, Johnny’s waiting in the lobby of your hotel. I’ll meet you there in a few days and for fucks sake, keep a low-profile Cage!
My email icon flashes and I quickly open it. To say I’m shocked to see the itinerary of my flight is an understatement. Although, after all these years I shouldn’t be surprised she’d pull something drastic like this.
My hands rub down my face and my heart rate escalates. Shit… guess I’m going home.