Consumed: A MMA Sports Romance (75 page)

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Kya

 

I
tried not to wait by the fire until Fenton got back to the suite. I left out a
bottle of wine and two clean glasses and made sure the lights were dimmed.
Then, I went into the master bedroom and pretended to work on my laptop. After
the door opened and he came back, I forced myself to wait a full two minutes
before I went out to the living room.

"I thought maybe you
were still out with the golfer," Fenton said. He grabbed a plate and piled
leftovers from a burger joint on it. "One of those glasses for me?"

"Yes. If you want
it," I said. I sat down on the white sofa and opened the bottle of red
wine.

"Sure, sounds good.
Are you having any, or did your golfer spoil you with the expensive kind?"

"We drank a nice
bottle," I said. "But this is the expensive stuff."

"So, how did it
go?"

I put the glass of wine
in front of him and then sat back before sipping my own. "Good. I think
I've got him convinced to negotiate with a power tool company. Hopefully, the
contract will be signed tomorrow."

"You're seeing him
again tomorrow?" Fenton asked. He dropped the leftover burger on his plate
and picked up his wine.

"Maybe. I don't have
any other plans," I said. I gave in to the impulse that had been nagging
me ever since I saw him. My hand slipped across the wide expanse of his back
and rubbed up so my fingers could tangle in his black hair. "I thought I
might be tired and want to sleep in after tonight."

He turned and pinned me
with his laser blue eyes. "About that, Kya, I think we might have to slow
down."

I pulled my hand back and
dropped it in my lap. "I understand. You don't need any more distractions
before the title fight."

"Exactly. Please
don't read anything more into it," he said.

"I won't. But I
think I'll take my glass of wine and head for bed." I stood up.

He grabbed my wrist and
stood up. "I don't know how to do this, Kya."

"Say
goodnight?" I asked him.

"No," his lips
quirked in a smile despite his serious tone. "I don't know how to balance
whatever this is and work. It’s always been nothing but work for me. It should
be nothing but work until the title fight, but–"

The kiss was a sudden
combustion, burning hot and bright, until we finally broke apart. Fenton was
out of breath and I was blushing. He ran a hand through his black hair and gave
me a rueful smile.

"So, after you made
fun of me for balancing work and life, you're having the same problem," I
said.

"We're having the
same problem." He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tight.

I tipped my chin up so I
could see his bright blue eyes. "Then, we need to set a few rules."

"Rules? Ah, fuck
it," Fenton said. "Will you be my date to the fight promotion party
tomorrow night?"

I laughed. "Fine,
you're not one for rules, I get it. Yes, I'll be your date tomorrow
night."

He kissed me one long,
last time and then said goodnight. I closed the door to the master bedroom and
did a silent dance of joy. Fenton wanted me to be his date! Not just waiting
for him in the suite, not just there at the party, but there with him for
everyone to see.

I fell asleep with a
smile on my face, but woke up early in a fit of terror. A big party with lots
of paparazzi was more pressure than my limited wardrobe could withstand. I had
nothing to wear.

Fenton laughed when I
joined him for breakfast. "Then, you won't mind that Kev had the same
thought. He's bringing over a designer friend of his and she's bringing a whole
rack of dresses for you to try on."

"You told Kev I was
going to be your date?" I wanted to pinch myself. I had not just dreamt
it, it was really happening.

"Maybe 'told' is too
strong a word. Kev was already conniving for us to go together. Either you or
that reality star Sienna," Fenton said.

My heart sank. Sienna was
the leggy blonde Fenton had draped all over him after his last win. She was the
obvious choice for the event.

"You don't have to
take me just to be nice," I told him.

Fenton gave me a funny
look, but before he could say anything there was knock on the door. Kev burst
into the suite followed by a long rack of dresses. A shy woman with stick
straight blonde hair and a sweet smile came in last and waved at me.

"Kya, I want you to
meet Sandi," Kev said. "Not only is she a stylist to the stars, but
she is a dress designer. She assures me she'll find you something perfect to
wear tonight. And, we get to watch."

Sandi shook her head at
Kev. "I said you are not allowed to watch. Nice try, though."

"And, nice try
getting out of going to the gym with me. It’s cardio day, and you owe me a few
miles, at least," Fenton said.

Kev was dragged from the
suite and it took a few minutes before his desperate pleas disappeared down the
elevator.

"Now, let's have
some fun," Sandi said. She grabbed my hand and twirled me around.

"I, I just woke up.
I'm a mess," I said.

"Who cares about
that," Sandi said. "You're perfect. I bet I'll hardly have to alter
the sample sizes." She went to the rack and pulled out a sapphire blue
dress with a fringe skirt. "So, tell me how you and tall, dark, and tough
met."

"Fenton? We met
through work," I said. Sandi handed me the dress and expected me to try it
on right there. I slipped out of my robe and was glad I had at least put on a
matching bra and underwear before leaving the master bedroom.

"Kev says you've got
this opposites attract thing going on, but I don't really see it. Seems to me
you and Fenton Morris are on the same page," she said.

"Then, you're the
only one," I said. I blushed bright red when I realized the only sense of
my style she had was the racy black lace bra and underwear. "I'm more
conservative and he's more infamous."

"Yeah, I'm not sure
I believe his hype. Kev certainly doesn't. Do you know those two have been
friends for 12 years? Fenton has always been there for him even when Kev was,
well, Kev," Sandi said.

"Twelve years?"
I asked. "I don't know why, but I always assumed Fenton was more of the
lone wolf type. He is always surprising me."

Sandi smiled at me, but
then frowned at the dress. "And, I hear you are always surprising him.
Which is why that dress simply won't work. We need something a little more
risqué."

I slipped out of the
sapphire dress and took the pale lavender one she handed me. In the morning
sunshine, it was iridescent. I tried not to love it before I even put it on.

"Wait, how have you
heard so much about me and about Fenton?" I asked.

"Kev is a talker. I
know, I know, he can be quite repulsive, but it’s all an act. We've gone out a
few times since he came to Vegas and he keeps surprising me. I guess it’s going
around," Sandi said.

I smiled at her, then
gasped as I caught sight of myself in the mirrored wall near the suite door.
"Wow. I mean, I can't possibly pull this off, but this dress is
amazing."

"Thanks, and don't
be stupid. You can most definitely pull off that dress. Kev told me you like
button-up shirts and clean-pressed pencil skirts, but I told him that was all
work. This dress is all play, and it is all you," Sandi said. "Plus,
it will fit Fenton's whole dark hair, tattooed, bad boy playboy vibe. I'm sure
he'll be wearing a black on black suit and this will be perfect against it."

I shifted my weight so
one hip stuck out – the dress demanded sexy poses. Then, I twirled around and
felt the shimmering material dance along my skin. I swept my hair up and
considered myself in the dress from every angle.

"I can't wear
something just because it looks good next to Fenton," I said. "I'm
not going to let myself be one of those girls who changes just to impress a
guy."

"Call me crazy, but
you aren't changing a thing," Sandi said. "A minute ago, you were all
smiles and appreciative glances. It was as if you were seeing yourself again
after a long absence. Face it, you feel good in that dress, you feel sexy, and
that is who you are."

"A good, sexy
girl?" I asked.

"Hell, yeah,"
Sandi said. She covered her mouth and giggled.

"So, I'm not the
only one cutting loose in Vegas, huh?" I asked.

"I think that's the
Kev effect," she said. "Being around him is encouraging me to say all
the things I normally only think."

"Like Fenton is
making me do all the things I normally only imagine," I said. I looked at
the dress and struck another pose. "I can't believe how one short trip to
Vegas has been so revealing."

"It’s the perfect
place for it," Sandi said. She checked the iridescent dress for any
tailoring. "I had my revelation in a North Dakota convention center. Not
exactly the perfect backdrop for a life changing memory, but that's the way it
goes."

I smiled at her as she
adjusted the shoulder straps. "What happened in North Dakota?"

"I realized if I was
going to continue being a stylist I didn't want to peddle someone else's
dresses. I knew I would probably lose my base of high society matrons, but I
suddenly didn't care. I was ready to start living my life, instead of thinking
about it. I sewed the dress I had been dreaming about that night and posted it
online. Within seconds, I had all sorts of queries and that was that."
Sandi nodded to herself. "I guess I don't really care where it happened,
only that it did."

"I love that – what
you said about living your life instead of thinking about it," I said.
"That's how I've felt ever since I met Fenton. Instead of choosing the
safe path and then dreaming of all the possibilities I missed out on, I just go
with my gut."

"And, what is your
gut telling you about Fenton Morris?" "That he's trouble, but I think
it might be the good kind of trouble. You know, the kind that could be an atom
bomb, but turns out to be the first blazes of a bonfire," I said.

Sandi laughed.
"Definitely not the safe choice."

"The funny part is,
I've met the safe choice here, too. This professional golfer, Jackson McRay.
He's everything I'm supposed to want– from a good family, well-educated,
cultured, practical, and always thinking about long-term goals."

"Doesn't hurt that
he's handsome and rich," Sandi said. She shrugged, "I saw his tabloid
cover. Hard not for him to catch any woman's eye."

"That's exactly
it," I said. "Jackson McRay is a catch. He's the man I'm supposed to
choose."

She stood back and put
her hands on her hips as I fell silent. "Well, come on then, I know
there's a 'but' in there. What is it? Why aren't you going to choose Mr.
Perfect?"

"Jackson McRay might
be everything I'm supposed to want, but Fenton Morris is everything I
desire." It felt so good to say it out loud that my heart soared.

Now, all I had to do was
figure out how to tell Fenton.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Fenton

 

I
made it all the way down to the lobby before realizing I had left my phone in
the suite. Kev was talking the entire time about a woman named Sandi. He barely
stopped when I told him we had to go back up. He was ecstatic.

"I don't think I
know this Kev," I said.

"Doesn't matter,
Sandi does," Kev beamed.

"I like her
already," I said. The elevator opened and I saw the suite door was cracked
open.

"Wait, what if we
can hear some girl talk?" Kev asked. He put his finger to his lips and
crept towards the door.

I swallowed the chuckle
in my throat. I did not want to give away Kev's game. Then, I heard Kya's
voice. She was talking about Jackson McRay.

"…this professional
golfer, Jackson McRay. He's everything I'm supposed to want – good family,
well-educated, cultured, practical, and always thinking about long-term
goals."

"Doesn't hurt that
he's handsome and rich," Sandi said. "I saw his tabloid cover. Hard
not for him to catch any woman's eye."

"That's exactly
it," Kya said. "Jackson McRay is a catch. He's the man I'm supposed
to choose."

"I don't need my
phone," I told Kev.

He immediately left the
suite door and followed me to the elevator. "She said 'supposed to,' and
we both know people only occasionally do what they are 'supposed to.'"

"Except Kya
Allen," I said. "She lives for 'supposed to.'"

Kev shook his head and
followed me into the elevator. "You broke her out of that. We should have
listened more."

I chucked him on the
shoulder. "You just wanted to hear Sandi talk."

"Yeah, I've got it
bad and it never felt so good," Kev said. He rubbed his shoulder and
smiled.

The doors opened on the
lobby and the group of guys standing there punched each other in excitement.
"You're that fighter, you're Morris. Man, you are a bad ass. We're trying
to do Vegas your way!"

"My way?"

"Strippers, fights,
man, you just do what you want. You're my hero," another man said.
"We started a bar fight last night in your honor."

"Don't be
stupid," I said. "What's the word? Naive. It’s all an act. Whatever
crap you did last night is on you."

"Whoa, what?"
the first man asked. "You're saying it’s all an act? I thought the MMA was
different from wrestling."

"Same dumb
fans," I said.

Kev shoved me through the
group and across the lobby. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I didn't say
anything crazy. I told them the truth," I said.

"Alienating your fan
base the night before the title fight is no way to do business," Kev said.

"Neither is lying
about who I am and making people believe I am somebody totally different,"
I said.

"Last time I checked,
you had a short temper, loved to fight, and had an insatiable appetite for
tequila and women. Oh, what a terrible double life you have been forced to
live!" Kev said.

"So that's all I'm
supposed to be?"

Kev wrapped an arm around
my neck. "Now, I'm not saying that. I get that you want to be your best
self. Hell, I'm trying to do the same thing. But I'm not going to be my best
self if I throw away my entire network. People know me one way and it’s going
to take time for them to realize I'm more."

"Sandi's doing that
to you? Making you want to be your best self?" I asked.

"Yes. And admit it
or not, Kya is doing that for you. So what if she thinks she's supposed to
choose the Polo shirt wearing golfer. All you have to do is make sure it’s you
she wants. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the whole opposites attract has been
working for you two so far, so why destroy your image now?" Kev asked.

"What's so important
about my image?" I asked. "It’s your job to manage that. I'm not
playing it up for the cameras anymore. My job is the fight and that's the one
thing I'm going to do."

"Fine, fine. If you
want to take a backseat to handling your publicity, then you should have
invited Sienna to the party tonight. You could have been on autopilot the
entire time and she would have hyped you to the cameras all night."

"Yeah, but that's
not real," I said. "I thought the new you would be into a marketing
campaign of authenticity."

"The new me, yes.
But I'm stuck as the old me until the title fight because it’s the old me that
has promoted the hell out of the old you. See what I'm saying?" Kev asked.

"Yes, fine. No big
changes until I've won the title," I agreed.

"Yes, thank you!
Man, Sienna's producer was just talking about the same thing this morning. He
was all mad because she wanted to try to change her image, go in a new
direction."

I sat down at the bar. I
had to laugh when the bartender automatically delivered a tequila shot.
"What new image is she trying out?"

"She's gone to hit
on the golfers from the tournament," Kev said. "Told her producer she
looked great in pastels and sunshine. She's going to try out the whole country
club scene. Maybe Kya inspired her."

"Oh, God, please
don't say it."

"What?" Kev
asked. "That Sienna has set her sights on Jackson McRay? What can I say, the
man is like a living breathing Ken doll and everyone wants to play house with
him. Or doctor. I don't know. Even Sandi says he's handsome. You heard
her."

"I am sick of
hearing about Jackson McRay. There's something off about him. Nothing a good
punch to the jaw wouldn't cure," I said. I slammed the shot and stood up.

Kev jumped off his bar
stool. "Whoa, wait, what's happening? That's just good old fashioned
jealousy talking. And everyone knows that jealousy is the number one way to get
into trouble. Didn't you just say you wanted to clean up your act?"

"And, you told me
not to," I said. "So, how about I go have a conversation with Mr.
McRay? Where's the golf luncheon?"

"I have no
idea," Kev said. He looked over my shoulder.

"Liar. Get a cab.
We're going."

Kev fidgeted the entire
cab ride to the Wynn Hotel and Casino. When we got out, he tried his best to
distract me.

"I hear they have a
helluva pool here. How about some drinks and good scenery?"

"No."

"There's a shop here
that makes custom cologne. Eau d' Marital Arts Fighter? Might be a good thing
to try. Maybe you want a product line."

"No."

Kev jumped in front of me
and held up his hands. "They're never going to let us in. I know I said I
wanted you to keep up the bad boy image, but another run-in with security is
not the way to go."

I marched up to the first
photographer I saw. "You know who I am?"

"The fighter, Fenton
Morris," he said.

"I need to have a
little talk with Jackson McRay. Want to make that happen?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," the
photographer said. He ran over and had a quick talk with the doorman, money was
exchanged, and we were in.

We entered the banquet
room. It was hard to tell what people stared at more – my tattoos or my jeans.
I was clearly not luncheon material.

"What's wrong with
this picture?" Kev asked.

"You mean besides a
bunch of men in pastel shirts and plaid pants?"

"Yes, besides
that." Kev turned all the way around and searched the room.
"Shouldn't we be hearing a high-pitched giggle and seeing a blinding flash
of camera lights?"

"So Sienna's
producer talked her out of it," I said. "I still want to talk to
Jackson."

"No, Sienna's
producer is right there," Kev pointed.

"With her entire
camera crew," I said. We marched across the room. A few golfers pulled
their wives out of our way and made nervous glances towards security.

"The cameras aren't
rolling? Has the world ended?" I asked Sienna's producer.

He shrugged his
shoulders. "Jackson McRay wanted to discuss their appearance before we
started shooting."

"And, you didn't go
with?" Kev asked.

Again the producer
shrugged and glanced at the manager's office door. "He wanted to talk to
Sienna alone."

"You sure they're
just talking?" Kev asked.

"It’s not my job to
babysit her. Sienna does what she wants."

At that moment, we all
heard a very clear "no!" Sienna said it again, but her voice was
muffled. The producer's eyes widened, but he did nothing. So, I kicked in the
door. Kev followed and shut the door behind us.

Jackson had Sienna pushed
against the mahogany desk of the banquet room's manager. She was pushing
against him, but he did not move. His hands gripped her thighs and held her
pinioned.

"What the
hell?" I asked.

"Of course, you'd be
the only one to invade our privacy," Jackson said. He did not let go of
Sienna.

"I said stop, Jackson,"
she cried.

"Sure, play it up
for them," Jackson said. "As if you didn't want it bad. All that
flirting in front of the camera. Your whole show is built around you tempting
guys. It’s about time someone gave you what you're asking for."

"Stop!" Sienna
said. "I didn't want to come in here with you. I didn't want any of
this."

"You heard the
lady," I said. I stepped across the room to Jackson and held up my fists.

He let her go and
laughed. "Come on, you of all people are going to play the hero? The
cameras aren't even on. Tell me you didn't do the same thing after she hung all
over you."

I shook my head.
"No, I didn't."

"Well, that's the
difference between us. You have to fight for everything you want. I was raised
differently. Everything is available to me. That's what really burns you, isn't
it? I can just take whatever I want," Jackson said.

"Then take
this," I said. I lunged towards him and threw a hard jab.

Kev grabbed me just in
time. My momentum carried us over to slam against the desk. Jackson stepped
aside and grabbed Sienna's arm.

"So heroic for
nothing. Come on, let's find somewhere more private," he said. "I
mean, you wouldn't want your little reality show to get slammed with a slander
lawsuit, would you? You might not understand much about business, but you
realize that's bad for your image, right?"

Sienna looked at me,
confused. She let Jackson start to pull her out the back door of the office.

"What do you think
you're doing?" I asked Jackson.

"Taking what she
offered. There's no crime in that," Jackson said.

"She said 'no,'
Jackson, and you're going to have to deal with that," I said. "You
can't force her."

"Force her?"
Jackson asked. "Like I forced her to come here and flirt with me, getting
all handsy on camera. Just like I forced your sister to wear next to nothing. A
woman who flaunts it wants it."

My fingers balled into
tight fists. "That's the difference between us. I don't have my head so
far up my ass that I don't understand the difference between casual flirting
and begging for sex."

"Women beg me all
the time. Your sister's outfit begged for it," Jackson said.

I lunged again and this
time Kev did not stop me. Jackson let go of Sienna and she fell hard against a
bookshelf. Hardcover books crashed to the floor as I slammed into Jackson.

He took one good punch to
the gut. I underestimated the soft appearance of his lime colored Polo shirt.
He was rock hard, but still lost his breath. Jackson came at me with a clumsy
swing, and I ducked.

It was on.

 

 

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