FIGHTER: An MMA Romance Novel (2 page)

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Authors: Sadie Black,BWWM United

BOOK: FIGHTER: An MMA Romance Novel
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Chapter 2
Nicole

"
G
irl
, I’m calling bullshit. There’s no way your new boss said those things."

"Hand to God, that's exactly what he said!"

Nicole could feel the throbbing beats playing in the club vibrate through the upholstered bench. Like every other club in Las Vegas, this one was over the top. The bottom floor of the warehouse was renovated into a restaurant and bar, while the top floor operated as a massive dance floor. Some of her best memories in the city were dancing the night away on the floor above. Mist curling around her ankles as colored LED lights flashed in wondrous patterns from the floor beneath. The effect was dazzling, like a fantasy come to life.

"What did you say his name was again?" Megan asked. The smart phone in her hand already had its browser loaded, ready for a little bit of research.

"Kade Holland. When you see him, you're not going to believe me, but I swear it's all true."

As Megan's thumbs tapped at her touchscreen, Elle fixed Nicole with sad, doe-like eyes.

"Like, it's so sad that you got another job, Nikki. I can't imagine what work is going to be like without you. Now that you're a big shot, you're going to forget about us lowly hostesses. And besides, who am I going to look forward to running into in the back rooms now?"

"Uh, duh, what about me?" Megan asked, tone cutting. Reception was bad here, and the search was taking a long time to load.

"No, Megan, I mean apart from you. We were the best threesome the La Cienda has ever seen, and I mean, it's probably seen a lot of them. There aren't any hostesses like us. Without Nikki it's going to be like... I don't know. Just really blah."

"You'll be okay, I promise," Nicole said with a smile. "It's not like its goodbye forever. We can keep coming out to party, and we’ll catch up then. You can tell me what trouble the regulars are getting into, and who the new blackjack dealers are, and what happens with Tiffany and Isaac's secret relationship we all know about."

"Yeah," Elle said with a tiny, innocent smile. Tonight her blonde hair was wavy instead of straight, her big blue eyes always round and beautiful. It was no wonder she supplemented her income so easily with modeling gigs. It hadn't been as easy for Nicole, but now that she'd landed the social media job with UFL, she didn't need to worry about it anymore.

"Shut
up
," Megan gasped as the screen loaded. She turned the phone towards Nicole to show her the image upon it. Kade was posed for the photograph, lips turned up in a dignified smile, suit tapered to the dreamy proportions of his body. Although he was no bodybuilder, he was hot. Perfectly styled brown hair paired with just a hint of scruff along his pronounced jaw met with piercingly intelligent eyes. And good lord, he was charming in person. "This is Kade Holland? Says he's worth billions of dollars. How is it fair that you get a hot boss to flirt with — who you say flirts with you back — who's completely loaded?"

"Let me see," Elle demanded, turning the phone around so she could look down at Kade's picture. Her porcelain skin contrasted against Megan's chocolate, the two were polar opposites. Elle, pale and blonde. Megan, dark and raven haired. Both girls were drop dead gorgeous. The La Cienda casino hired only the most attractive women to walk the floors and make its guests feel special. The job was thankless and, at times, the men were creepy. As much as she'd miss her girls, Nicole was glad to get out. "Oh my god Nicole, he's gorgeous."

"I'd let him screw me, no questions asked," Megan said. "I bet a man like that, with looks and brains, has the whole package. I'd be willing to bet he's got a python beneath the belt. That's one snake I'd let out of its cage, no matter what it wanted to do with me." Her eyes darted up to look across at Nicole. "If you don't want none, you should hook me up. I don’t see nothing about a wife, so we're in the clear. All that, and he's only thirty-eight. What difference does a decade make? He still looks our age, that's all that counts."

"Twelve years," Nicole replied. The thought of Kade's age had never crossed her mind before. Face to face, he didn't look all that much older than she did. To think he was so much older, so much more experienced, added an extra kick to the thrill she got when she thought about him. There was no denying that Kade was handsome, but more than that, he was charming yet no nonsense when it came to work. A man like that wouldn't be afraid to really take charge in the bedroom, just like he did in the office. "I guess it's a pretty big difference. I mean, I'll still be in my twenties when he turns forty. Isn't that kind of... Gross?"

"Oh, come on! Are you trying to tell me you wouldn’t?" Megan teased. Elle sat back in the booth, spaced out. She'd made her way through two mixed drinks already, and out of the three of them, she was the biggest lightweight.

"Well," Nicole couldn't hold back a devilish grin, "yeah, but the oldest guy I ever slept with was nine years older than me. Twelve years just seems like such a leap. But he's crazy hot."

"You can say that again." Megan put the phone down, setting the brunt of her attention on Nicole. "Dick is kind of like wine — it gets better with age until a certain point, and then it gets gross. If I were you, I'd take advantage of a good dick while I could. The man in that picture?" She jabbed her finger down at the phone. "That's the kind of man who knows how to use what he's been given, and who's still young enough to be able to use it well. I wouldn't waste your opportunity."

It wasn't the first time they’d discussed the men they wanted to screw, but it was the first time Megan had been so insistent. Nicole laughed it off.

"With a guy like Kade, I think it's a lot of act with no substance."

"Like... He's made of clouds?" Elle asked. Megan shook her head.

"No, as in, I think he just flirts naturally. A man like that could have any woman he wanted, and there are plenty out there more attractive than me."

"Nah," Megan shook her head, grinning. "I bet it's not even going to be a week before he's got you bent over his desk, screwing your brains out."

"Oh. Oh, I understand," Elle murmured. "I um, I give it three weeks. Before the month is up. It's enough for Nicole to settle into the job and get comfortable with him so that it's extra hot when he finally stops flirting and goes all the way."

"You guys," Nicole sighed in jest. The teasing was in good fun, and yet she couldn't help but feel that the predictions would soon come true. All straight men who showed interest in her all had a tell. When she'd looked across the desk at Kade, there had been a hint of raw hunger in his eyes that told her he saw her as more than just an asset to the company.

"You know it's true," Elle said simply. Both hands on the table, she pulled herself to her feet and wobbled a few steps away before she looked back at her two friends. The bronze sequin dress she wore glimmered in the club's dim lights. "I want to go dance now. Come dance with me, please? We said we were going to have an epic night out to celebrate Nicole's job and all we've done so far is talked and drank. Let's have some fun!"

"Girl, you read my mind." Megan slid across the bench and stood, joining Elle. The blonde placed a hand on Megan's arm for support.

"You guys go upstairs and get warmed up — I need to go to the bathroom."

“All the vodka was getting to her.” Megan laughed.

"Go break the seal, then. We'll be dancing while we wait for you. You better not make us wait too long — this is your party, after all."

"I promise I'll be quick." As her friends made their way to the stairs leading to the dance floor, Nicole made her way to the bathroom. In a short hallway separate from the lounge area, it was a hotspot for couples looking for some privacy and drug deals. Nicole had never much been into drugs, but she'd taken a man or two down that hallway. A few times the staff had found her there as they closed the place down, a little too hot and heavy into that night's hunk.

The men's and ladies' rooms were side by side. The door to the ladies' room opened to a short, greasy, pot-bellied man. Nicole's eyes narrowed, and she double checked the sign on the door as it closed behind him. There was no doubt he'd come from the ladies' room.

As she hesitated, the man caught her eye. A smirk pushed his pudgy cheeks upward, beady eyes eating her up. Both of his hands hitched his pants that much higher, and he zipped his undone fly. The zipper was concealed by the overhang from his stomach, but the action alone made her sick. The way he kept her gaze made it much more perverse than if he'd zipped up discretely.

"Might want to give 'er a minute or two," the man warned as he passed, eyes running over Nicole's curves. For the first time in a long time, Nicole felt self-conscious about how much cleavage she was showing. Then, the man was gone.

Eyeing the bathroom with semi-suspicion, Nicole pulled the door open. Three stalls covered in etchings and other graffiti waited inside, but there were only two chipped, filthy sinks. For as grand as the club was, it's bathroom needed some work.

All three stall doors were open, but only two were empty. In the occupied stall, stretched out over the toilet like a recliner, sat a woman in her forties. A short black lace dress gave way to gorgeous legs ending in tall heels. The plunging neckline of the dress was askew, in danger of exposing her firm breasts. There was no way unsupported boobs that size weren't silicone, not with how perky they were. Strawberry blonde curls, set and sprayed, tumbled over her shoulders. The hair on the crown of her head was out of place, like someone had grabbed onto it and yanked. The exposed caps of her knees were wet; there was a puddle of clear liquid on the floor of the stall.

It wasn't the fact that the woman had obviously blown the gross guy who'd just left the bathroom that bothered Nicole, it was the fact that if it wasn't for her age, she'd fit right in with Nicole's group.

"Hrrmmm?" the woman intoned as Nicole entered the room. With difficulty she lifted her head, swaying motion exaggerated. The reek of alcohol was overwhelming, and Nicole wasn't sure if it was from the room itself, or the woman. Without paying the woman any attention, Nicole slipped into the further stall from the door and locked herself in. Luckily, it seemed the woman had no interest in her.

Not wanting to keep her friends waiting, Nicole relieved herself quickly and flushed. When she left the stall to wash her hands, the woman in the first stall found her tongue.

"Honey, who does your hair?" the words were as unstable as the woman's motor skills. Nicole looked over her shoulder to find the woman squinting at her, slumped over on the toilet seat now with her elbows resting on her thighs. "Looks so good. My mom always said to me — my mom was such a great woman, you know — she said, 'always ask a black girl where she gets her hair done, because you know that place has got to be good'. And it's so true. All the black girls I meet with fantastic hair; they all know the best hair stylists. I've never been to one salon recommended to me by a black girl that was bad. Not one. So tell me where you go, because damn your hair is so good."

Part of Nicole's job involved uncomfortable interactions with men, but on the job she was prepared for it. Approaching midnight after a few drinks, she wasn't ready to deal with a drunken woman's ramblings.

"Hair Raisers off the strip," she replied, keeping things short. "I see Jacqueline."

"I know that place!" the woman slurred enthusiastically. "Good place. Been there a few times. Guess I'll go back. I want to do something different with my hair for when I really go out and party this weekend, you know? I know you know. Look at you. So pretty. I bet you're up to your eyeballs in cock most nights. I love those nights. Sometimes that still happens for me, but not as much anymore. It's a hard world for party girls, you know?"

Nicole turned on the water, deciding not to answer.
She didn't owe the woman anything.
As she pumped soap from the dispenser and rubbed it between her palms and fingers, the woman kept talking.

"Other girls, girls who don't party like this, like us, they think we got it so easy. That we bring home men when we want them, that we get new men every night at the drop of a hat. Ugly girls think that. I mean, it's true, but it doesn't last forever. When that ugly girl gets a boyfriend, she keeps him. She gets him with her personality or how well she sucks cock or whatever, and he sticks around and they do the happily ever after thing. That's not the path we're on. Girls like us know the score: ugly girls get the guy, and girls like us, well, we get fucked and chucked. Over and over. And one day when your good looks run out, so do your orgasms. Hah."

The woman's posture straightened, and then she sank back against the toilet once more, looking at the ceiling. Nicole made quick work of washing her hands, keeping a careful eye on the woman through the mirror in front of her. It looked like she wasn't going to be much of an issue, but if that changed, Nicole didn't want to be caught off guard.

"God, I feel sick," the woman moaned. Nicole turned off the water, shook her hands twice in an attempt to dry them, and made haste for the door.
Was that really what her future was going to look like? Fading beauty, drunk and shamed on a filthy toilet seat in a club on a Wednesday night?
At twenty-six and with a new job in the bag, it didn't seem all that big a deal. At forty it was a different story. Nicole felt sick considering it. For now, it was all fun and games, but in a few years what would she have to show for it? No matter what, she could never let that be her future. There were better things in the world for her than that.

"Nikki, I got worried." Just outside the bathroom door, Elle waited. The blonde took Nicole by the wrist, smiling kindly. "Let's go dance, okay? You always dance the best. Let's have fun tonight."

Those better things in the world weren't meant for tonight, though. Tomorrow or the day after she'd worry about that. There was dancing to be done, and friends to celebrate with, and that was the only future that mattered.

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