Consumed: A MMA Sports Romance (61 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Fenton

It
was worse after I dropped Kya at her hotel. At the gym, there were constant
reminders of my work. On the trail, there was the heart-pumping climb. In the
car, there was the quiet of our impasse. Kya was convinced she needed me to get
what she wanted, while I was fighting hard to get what I wanted alone.

She had made a convincing
case for getting an agent before the title fight. I would need someone to take
care of the details, secure the right money, and watch the contracts. Someone I
trusted. And, I trusted Kya Allen. It felt strange, but not when I thought
about how she hid nothing.

Kya had even confessed
her life plan. She was going to work until she earned a certain security – the
career, the bank account, and the house. Things that had always stayed out of
reach for my mother. My mother did not have the education for a career. She had
worked two jobs, sometimes adding hours as a house cleaner, and still her bank
account was always empty. We had rented a one-bedroom apartment where the kids
had the room and my mother slept on the couch.

That was exactly why I
refused to share my life with anyone. Until I could provide those things, I was
better off alone. If my father had done that, they would have been happy. He
would not have left. My mother would have recovered. My sister would not have
skipped school to make easy money.

It was dangerous that Kya
and I wanted the same things. Even though the ride back to the Strip was
silent, I feared she heard me thinking her same thoughts.

I went back to the MGM
Grand to shower. Instead of shadowboxing my new moves under the spray, I closed
my eyes. She was there, her breasts heaving from the hike. Her copper hair
brushed back into a loose ponytail, her neck showing the lightest sheen of sweat.
I wanted to lick it, to taste her.

I imagined her in a
hidden turn just off the trail, her skin like warm honey in the sun. Kya below
me, open, wanting. I squeezed my eyes shut to hold her there and pleasured
myself under the hot spray of the shower.

Thinking she was out of
my system at least for the night, I considered ordering room service. When I
reached for the phone, I thought about inviting Kya to join me. I slammed the
phone down and got dressed. I needed to get out.

Two floors down, the
elevator doors opened on the perfect distraction. Talia tossed her silky black
hair over her shoulder and strolled in.

"What floor?" I
asked.

"Pick one," she
said.

She stepped forward as I
leaned around her to press the ground floor button. Her breasts brushed under
my chin and she plumped them up and then heaved a little sigh.

"Glad I ran into
you," she said. "Are you glad to see me?"

I admired the cleavage
she kept in front of my eyes. "You look beautiful, as always."

Talia spun around so I
could admire her skimpy blue dress. The material shone and slipped around her
body like liquid. She backed up and pressed herself the length of me.
"Hmm, I like seeing us in the mirror."

From her hard nipples to
the shimmy her backside did against my pelvis, it was easy to imagine what she
was suggesting. I could slip that shiny blue dress up to her waist and be
inside her before the next floor. She nodded encouragement and leaned forward
to place her palms against the mirror. I bet she would not even care if I did
not hit the stop button. The doors could open on the main lobby and she would
still be hot and ready.

Stopping the elevator
made me think of Kya. The jolt had made her giggle then her green eyes had
gotten brighter. She had pushed me into the corner of the elevator and kissed
me until we sunk together to the floor.

"I know you like to
be bad, I do, too," Talia said. She swayed the short hem of her dress in
front of my belt loop.

I felt my blood rush to
where she brushed against me, but it was not Talia I wanted. "Not
here," I told her.

She stood up and leaned
back against me. The position gave me an open view down the front of her dress.
She was not wearing a bra, her breasts firm and rounded against the material,
nipples aroused as she squirmed inside the fabric. "I know a dark corner
where no one plays the slots at this hour."

I had to try. I reached
around Talia and cupped both her firm breasts in my hands. She moaned loudly as
I squeezed, and her hands sneaked between us to my belt loop. I fingered her
nipples, feeling every shudder through her sensual body. She undid my zipper,
but before she could reach me and work me hard with her hands, I had to admit
the truth – all I could think about was Kya.

"Damn, sorry. I…I
just can't do this now," I said.

The elevator doors slid
open just as I rebuckled my belt. Talia was still teasing me, her breasts
pressed to my arm, one hand cupping my ass.

"Don't let me
interrupt," my manager said. He stepped onto the elevator and licked his
lips at Talia. "I was coming to get you for dinner, but I understand if
you're ordering in."

"No, dinner is
great," I said.

"Gimme the
restaurant," Kev said into his phone. "Yeah, make it three. We're on
our way."

Talia bounced happily and
wrapped her arms around mine. Kev nodded his head along with her still erect
nipples and whistled. He stayed distracted by her shiny dress until we were
seated at the restaurant.

"Alright, tell me
about Kya Allen. I'm dying to know what happened after the nightclub. You two
were looking pretty hot and heavy on the way out," Kev said.

Talia pouted and slid a
little closer to me in the dark leather booth. I shook my head. "You know
I was just messing with her. Distracting her from getting her pitch out. I'm
not signing on to hock vitamin supplements."

Kev shrugged. "It'd
be smart to pick something long-term like that. Shoes go out of style, but
vitamins have a good long contract. Anyway, enough about business. What's the
Country Club Princess like?"

"She sounds
boring," Talia said.

"Apparently
not," Kev said. "She kept our boy distracted all night long."

"Let's talk about
something else," Talia pouted and ran a hand high up the inside of my
thigh. She started to knead my muscles there in slow circles. "What kind
of fun are we going to have tonight?"

"First cocktails,
then steak, then more cocktails, then we hit the town," Kev said.

"Did you sign a deal
I don't know about?" I asked. "Where are all these funds coming
from?"

My manager shrugged
again. He waved at a man across the bar. "Bran cereal, breakfast of champions,
that sort of thing. I told him I would hand you this. Pretend to read over it,
keep it out on the table, and he's picking up the tab."

I took the product
information packet and glanced back at the endorsement agent. He raised his
glass then turned back to the bar. Trying the soft sell. It seemed wrong to
take advantage of him, but my manager had already ordered two bottles of wine
and steak dinners for all of us.

"What did Ms. Allen
offer you, or was it all below the table?" Kev asked.

Talia's hand gripped hard
before she redoubled her efforts to arouse me. With my manager salivating
across the table at us, she had a better chance of getting me to endorse jock
straps.

"She hasn't tried
her business pitch on you?" I asked. "Most agents are like our friend
at the bar, they go through the manager."

"Well, everyone in
the industry knows she's different. Likes to go straight for what she
wants," he said. "Come on, you're really not gonna give me any
details about the other night?"

"No, I'm not. Find
your own details," I said.

"I wish! Hey, maybe
Miss Wriggler there has a friend?" he asked.

"Sure. I know some
girls are heading over to the new club at the Tropicana," Talia said.

"The
Tropicana?" I asked, remembering that was where I had dropped Kya off that
morning.

"Yeah, it’s retro
cool, good music. The bathrooms are great." Talia batted her eyelashes at
me and slipped her hand higher up my leg.

I was glad when the food
and wine arrived because Talia had something else to do with her hands. The
sight of Kevin Casey eating a rare steak was enough to turn anyone off.
Fortunately, the wine was good and my manager had a slew of entertaining
stories.

"And that is why you
never challenge Chris Rock to a game of baseball," Kev finished his story
and poured out the last of the second bottle of wine.

Talia giggled and swayed
as she got out of the booth. "Chris Rock performed in Vegas a few years
ago. My friend and I sneaked backstage, but we never made it further than his
bodyguards."

Knowing her preference
for tough guys first hand, I did not bother to ask what happened with the
bodyguards. She wrapped both arms around my bicep and whispered it in my ear
anyway. It may have been the strong wine, but her dirty memory got my blood
pumping.

It seemed ridiculous to
take a town car to a casino we could see from outside the MGM Grand, but the
enormous buildings were deceptively far apart. Plus, the town car gave Talia
the chance to sit in my lap. I ran my hands all over her curves, but somehow,
Kya kept coming between me and Talia's thin dress. It was wrong to compare the
two women, but it was all I could do.

I only wanted Kya. The
only answer to that was to drink more. We messed around at the Blackjack tables
inside the Tropicana long enough to get served strong cocktails. Kev hit a hot
streak and Talia had fun flirting with the dealer. I played conservatively and
tried not to tally every loss against the free chips I was given for my minor
celebrity.

Counting my savings in my
head made me again think of Kya. I could understand how she did not want to let
loose until she had a safety net. It made sense, and I operated the same way.
That was why I needed to get Kya Allen out of my system. She was the only one
in years that made me want to skip my personal parameters and start a
relationship early.

Relationship
– I shook my head.
I have got to get her
out of my head
, I thought.

Too bad when I turned
back to our Blackjack game, I spotted Kya Allen across the casino floor. She
paced in front of a video poker game on the end of a long row. As her phone
conversation stretched on, she played a few hands. It was easy to see from the
flashing lights of her machine that she was casually winning. Only Kya would
win offhand while talking on the phone.

Talia caught me watching
Kya. She gave up her seat and stood next to me. Her bouncing breasts were even
with my cheek as she leaned into my stool. "Let's go dance, Fenton. Or
better yet, let's go swimming. I bet we could convince the front desk to let us
into the pool."

"You go ahead and
join your friends," I told her. "I'm going to stick around
here."

Talia bent lower, sucking
on my ear lobe. "The best way to get over someone is to sleep with someone
else," she said.

"You're right,"
I agreed. The cocktails had confused my hearing. "I gotta sleep with her
to get over her."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kya

I
was holding my phone away from my ear. My boss was off on one of his supreme
lectures, making me wonder for the thousandth time if my apparent listening was
part of the reason he hired me.

"You hear me?"
James Cort asked.

I did not have to utter a
full word, just a hum and he launched into part three of what I suspected was
going to be at least a five part series. I punched a few cards on the video
poker screen and paced away while imaginary money racked up.

"Are you really this
lucky?" Fenton asked from behind me. He sauntered up and leaned against
the end machine, watching my winnings calculate.

"I'm not sure you'd
call this lucky," I held out the phone so he could hear my boss' chatter.

"Well, a lot of
women would think you're lucky right about now," Fenton said. He nodded to
one particularly catty looking woman with long black hair.

"Just because you're
talking to me?" I asked. "James, Fenton is here. Yes, I call him by
his first name. Right. No. Don't be gross." I hung up my phone and punched
a few more cards on the video poker screen.

"Because you seem to
be the only woman I'm interested in talking to," Fenton said. "Was
that your boss you just hung up on?"

"Yes." I
watched his smirk wobble a bit and I wondered if he had been drinking. "He
told me to make you happy and get you signed."

He pushed off the video
poker screen and leaned towards me. "I'd be happy to see that little black
dress again," he said.

I glanced down at my silk
blouse and jeans. "I've seen people gambling in worse. You're lucky I'm
not wearing sweatpants and a fleece vest."

"Or that tight
little tank top you wore on our hike. You sore from the Overlook Trail?"
he asked.

I stepped back as he
leaned closer. "Yes, I am a little sore, but nothing I can't handle. In
fact, I was thinking I should join you again tomorrow. That's the best cure for
sore muscles."

"I know a better
one." Fenton’s laser blue eyes narrowed as his smile widened.

"Well, I can guess
it’s not sitting on a stool playing video poker," I said. I punched out of
the game and a slew of coins poured into the metal slot.

Fenton shook his head at
my luck again. "Sign us up for a couple's massage. Don't you have an
expense account or something? Call your boss and ask for his credit card
number."

I raked the coins into a
plastic cup. All the other agents I knew would do what Fenton said in an
instant. And, it was not that I was not tempted. The idea of a couple's massage
with him next to me was very tempting, indeed. My boss would be annoyed that he
had not thought of it first. I could hear him rattling off his credit card
number in his perpetually yelling tone.

"You're thinking
about it, aren't you?" Fenton said. "You never know, it might make me
want vitamin supplements even more."

I shook my head.
"No. I've never landed an account that way before. Besides, you are just
trying to take advantage of me. What kind of agent would I be if I just threw
money away on my client's whims? I'm suppose to be proving to you that I have
your best interests in mind."

Fenton laughed, and my
stomach quivered. "Well, if you won't treat me to a couple's massage, what
kind of schmoozing do you have in mind? I hear there's a great nightclub here
if you feel like taking me dancing."

"What have other
endorsement agents offered you?" I asked.

"Well, let's see.
One just gave me and two friends an open tab for dinner," he said.

"Would that explain
the hint of intoxication?"

He stuck his nose in the
air. "Yes. Jealous?"

"Not
impressed," I said. "What other sort of perks have you gotten?"

"A car lease, a
timeshare vacation, a purebred dog, a leather sofa. None of which I
accepted."

"What kind of
dog?" I asked. I took my coins to the exchange and got a surprising wad of
cash.

"A pitbull. Sweet
puppy," he said.

"Hmm, I see you as
more of a Rottweiler type," I told him.

Fenton nudged me.
"Really? I thought you would have noticed that I’m more the kitten
type."

"Well, massages and
live animals aside, I'm not sure what I can offer you besides a sound business
deal," I said.

"Ah, there it
is," Fenton said. "That's how you get all those Ivy League types.
Make them think they are doing real business. We both know it’s selling
out."

"Selling out is what
other agents would push for. I'm here to help you trade your name for solid
investments."

"Oh, the Kya Allen
reputation at work," Fenton said. He sauntered away.

"Wait, fine.
Alright. I know how to have a little fun while working," I said.

He spun around and looked
skeptical. "I'm not accepting tickets to a show. I am the show,
remember?"

"I wasn't thinking
about taking you to a show. I've got reservations for the restaurant on the top
of the Eiffel Tower. Say tomorrow night at eight?"

"Dress to
impress?" Fenton asked.

"Of course."

"Then, it's a
date."
 

#

I
bought a new dress to wine and dine Fenton Morris. I could not bring myself to
buy the fire engine red number, but the plunging neckline of my deep purple
dress more than made up for the conservative color. The v stopped just short of
my navel and somehow, the looping silver chains drew the eye to my cleavage
instead of distracted from it.

The double takes and soft
whistles should have boosted my confidence, but I was nervous. Fenton had said
it was a date. He had also been drinking. What if he forgot about it all
together?

I imagined him off
somewhere with the jealous, black-haired beauty. I had not admitted it to him,
but I had seen them enter the Tropicana the night before. She was wrapped
around him like ivy and though he talked to his manager, his hand was still
firmly on the curve of her hip.

Should
I have booked a couple's massage?
I asked myself for the
hundredth time.

Fenton had probably gone
back to the voluptuous woman right after I refused. They were probably still in
his penthouse suite, ordering room service.

I told myself the burning
in my chest was not jealousy. I had grabbed a tiny bottle of liquid courage
from my mini bar. It had to be the whiskey still burning its way down. It was
no big deal if Fenton was having wild, passionate sex with another woman while
I stood in a replica of Paris and shivered in the surprisingly chilly evening.

"Need my coat or can
I warm you up?" Fenton’s voice came from behind me.

"Oh, thank God you
came," I said. "I mean, I'm starving. And I hear the foie gras is to
die for."

I led the way into the
Paris Casino so he could not see the relieved blush on my cheeks. Fenton had
come to meet me for dinner – he was not off with anyone else.

"I should have told
you, you could have brought a date. I'm sorry I did not say anything
sooner," I said.

The elevator doors shut
and Fenton gave me a wolfish grin. "Bring a date on a date? What sort of
man do you take me for?"

I smiled, more relieved.
"I thought you were a bad boy. I thought you were the show."

"Yeah, yeah, I
remember saying that," he laughed. "And, I've been wondering. Aren't
you afraid that my reputation is going to ruin your reputation?"

I backed towards the
corner of the elevator as he slid closer. His gaze was locked on my lips and I
licked them nervously. "Maybe they cancel each other out and we can just
be regular people," I countered.

His eyes softened and he
stopped looming over me. I missed the heat of his body like the sun going
behind a cloud. Then, he reached for my hand.

"I'd like that, Kya.
Now that would be something no other agent has ever given me," Fenton
said.

The doors opened and the
maitre d' ruined the effects of my statement. He bowed low and welcomed us to
the Eiffel Tower. He seated us right away at a special table with a view of the
Bellagio Fountain. Heads turned as we took our seats.

"Being regular for
the night might be a tall order," I said. I gestured out the window to
where a neon billboard almost a story high showed Fenton in action.

He turned away from the
window and concentrated on me. "It's at least worth a shot. What do
regular people talk about on dates?"

"Work?" I
asked.

He laughed, and again my
stomach quivered. I loved hearing him laugh. The head waiter explained that we
did not need menus; the chef had prepared a special meal. Then, the sommelier
approached and poured the right wine to match our first course.

After all the flourishes
were finished and we had taken a few long sips, Fenton smiled again.
"Alright, tell me about work. But not like you're an agent trying to sign
me. What would you tell a date?"

I touched my thumb to the
small, comma-shaped beauty mark near my mouth, a sure tell that I was nervous.
"It's a been awhile since I went on a date. I guess most men want to know
how I got into my profession."

Fenton leaned his
forearms on the table. "What I want to know is how you ended up working
for James Cort. I asked my manager about him and he just laughed. They seem to
be cut from the same slimy cloth."

"I ran into him at a
country club," I said.

"You're
joking."

I laughed. "No, it’s
true. I was on a road trip and needed to go to the bathroom. The nearest place
I could find was this country club, so I sneaked in and used the facilities.
When I came out, security was looking for me. James snagged my arm and
introduced me to the golf pro. I must have charmed him because James left there
with a new client, and I left with a new job."

"What kind of car
were you driving?" Fenton asked.

In my mind, I could see
the rust flaking off the door and smiled. "An 80s Thunderbird. The
two-door kind. Big long heavy doors that tended to sag on the hinges when it
was as rusted as mine."

"A sweet sixteen
present?"

"No," I said.
"I bought it myself just after high school. I needed something to get me
to college."

"Ah, yes, the Ivy
League." Fenton leaned back in his seat.

"University of
Chicago," I said. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

He smiled. "How many
prospective clients get to hear that?"

"None." I
sipped my wine and felt warm. Talking with Fenton was easy – no patter, no
holding up false impressions.

He rolled up his sleeves
and fixed his eyes on the candle between us. "Then I suppose it’s only
fair I tell you something true."

"About your
reputation?" I asked.

He nodded, his look
faraway. "I hit that cop. He'd arrested my sister."

The warmth inside me
spread. I raised my glass to Fenton. "Here's to the half truths that make
us regular people."

His smile returned and
made me dizzy all throughout the meal. When we were finally walking down the
Strip later that evening, it did not feel at all strange to be arm in arm –
just like it felt natural for him to walk me back to my room at the Tropicana.
And then, it was only right that I invite him in for a nightcap.

As soon as the door
closed behind us, he kissed me. I lost track of time – my only anchor in the
universe was his lips. I rose up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck.
He lifted me clear off the ground, the delicious heat of our bodies flushed
together taking me even higher.

We pressed and tangled,
the iron bands of his arms holding me as close as possible. I wanted to be
closer. The thinness of my dress, that had worried me all night, was suddenly
too much of a barrier. Fenton held me aloft so easily, as I wrapped my legs
around his waist and pulled him closer.

He groaned, stumbling
back into the center of my small room. His hands were in my hair, our mouths
locked in a deep give and take. I felt as if breaking away from his lips for
even a moment would make me spin away into the desert sky. He seemed to hear my
thoughts and laid me down on the bed, his weight on top of me a welcome
pressure.

"Wait, no," I
protested. "Not like this."

"Kya, please,"
Fenton said.

I wanted to give in. I
wanted it more than anything, but I could not. I thought I was wining and
dining him, but here Fenton Morris was in my room, on my bed, on me. I was
being seduced, and that would ruin everything.