Page 25 of Clinch'd

Except as soon as I sit down, Jordan texts and my testicles shrink.

“Fuck,” I grumble checking the message.

Patterson has a message

Which is what?

While he takes an excruciating amount of time to answer, I grab my gym bag and head for the door. I’m definitely not jacking off now and frankly my insides twist at the thought.

My sister is fucking missing, get your goddamn head out of the gutter and focus.

Thinks she’s hanging out with some dude named Shaw, said he’d have more info later

Shaw? Who the fuck is that because I’m going to kick his ass when I find him with my sister.

Still, I feel the weight hanging over my shoulders ease a little as I press the button for the basement. Thank fuck, maybe I can track her down and send her home but not before making sure she never pulls this shit again.

Chapter 9

Minnie

By the following evening, I’m a ball of nerves once more. To my dismay, Lorri packed every tiny scrap of fabric she could find, and now I’m dressed in an outfit that hugs my curves, barely covers my twat and accentuates every dimple in my sizable breasts.

Paired with four-inch heels, again, I sigh into the universe as I stare at myself in the elevator mirror. Cooper’s words about my slutty outfit ring in my ears and I growl my frustration.

Fuck him. I’m not dressing to please him anyway, even if I should be dammit.

Beast eyes me when I emerge in the lobby with a grunt, before spinning on his heel and expecting me to follow. Glaring at his back, I hold back a snarl and exit behind him before sliding into another swanky limo.

Since the magic has died on that front, I sit down with a huff and ignore him as he glares out the window the entire way to the venue. I don't know what crawled up his ass and died but it's not like I want to be here anymore than he wants me to be.

Which begs the question, why is he caught up with these dudes? He's jumping at their demands, just like me.

Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I wonder what a successful MMA fighter would have to do with organized crime and realize I know so little about him and the sport that it could possibly be completely normal. I mean I was sent in to get the goods on another fighter, maybe the mafia is all over these fighters.

The venue is more of a converted warehouse made into a fight club, with bleachers all around a cage in the center of the space. We’re led to a box at the top though and a waitress with a bright red smile and avid eyes approaches as soon as we enter, “Drinks?”

“Beer,” Beast grunts, his eyes dropping to her tits. Her smile widens before she turns away and I have to call out, “Um, vodka tonic please.”

I have no idea if she heard me, but I figure I’ll find out and turn back to the ring. We’re far enough up that the top row of bleachers is a good ten feet away.

I watch the patrons gain their seats with popcorn and huge beers, the din loud but not overwhelming.

Sitting in a plush seat, I gaze around at the crowd absently, wondering where Cooper might be in this or maybe I’m waiting until the party. I don't know but the butterflies whooping it up in my stomach remind me, I need to stop worrying about what I want as a woman and potential lover and just make it happen.

At least in this, I can be grateful I’m attracted to the dick, otherwise this whole venture would be painful at best. Still, I can’t help but think about the girls I once knew who did far more for far less. Am I justifying whoring myself out?

What a mindfuck.

The server brings back my drink and barely glances my way while she flirts with Beast, but my attention is caught by the roarof the crowd as the announcer enters the ring and turns in a circle with a big smile.

“Ladies and gents, are you ready?”

The crowd roars, the floors practically vibrating with their excitement. Scooching to the edge of my seat, I watch as the first fighter enters the ring, his broad chest and defined muscles rippling as he raises his arms and glances around the space.

He’s beautiful, with long golden blond hair and sleepy bedroom eyes. His opponent follows but I only have eyes for Cross, who turns to his opponent with a lazy grin and leans against the ropes nonchalantly. Wow.

“What a tool,” a deep voice grumbles before Cooper sits down in the seat beside me.

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