Page 1 of Thunder

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THUNDER

THREE YEARS AGO

The kick to his ribs came out of nowhere, and the crowd cheered.

While Killer was watching his opponent’s fists, he landed a rib cracker kick. Instead of putting him on the mat as intended, it just pissed him the hell off.

Killer shouldn’t have played with the wiry fuck; he should’ve put him down in thirty seconds. But he was all about the show, and now he would have to hide a cracked rib for his fake fini-flight.

Good thing he was already on terminal leave and the flight was little more than a glorified taxi for a photo-op. He’d already did all the official crap to become a civilian. His new life was well underway. He’d patched into the Desert Phantoms just days ago, earning his road name, Thunder. But here in the octagon, he was simply known as Killer. It was lame, but since he started fighting, while still showing up for his nine-to-five in the Air Force as a Hawg driver, he didn’t want any connection trailing right to his front door.

Hell, that was why he’d been a probie with the Phantoms for what felt like since the Reagan administration.

Fuck.

I’m done playing around.

Fifty seconds later, his opponent was out cold, and Nick was leaving the cage to thunderous applause. The sounds dulled to a low roar as his vision tunneled in on a smoking hot chick with muscular legs that he could see all the way from her stiletto heels to that kissable spot on her inner thighs.

As he passed, he snagged her around her bare waist and leaned into her glossy brown locks. Before whispering in her ear, he inhaled the heavenly scent of amber and musk.

“I just beat the shit out of that guy, and now I have a raging hard-on. So, I’m going back to the locker room to rub one out, or I can rock your world instead. What do you say?”

Her laugh was rich and stroked his dick with the deep velvet quality of it.

“Does that line usually work for you, Killer?”

“Never tried it before.”

“And I’ve never heard it before, so yay us.”

“How does all that power feel?”

Her eyes flared; she was a woman who loved power. If her Linda Hamilton, Terminator guns and well-defined abs didn’t give it away, the lust on her face at his words would’ve.

“What power?”

“Well, in about ten seconds that line will have either a one hundred percent success rate or a one hundred percent fail rate, and it depends solely on you.”

“Wow.”

“Is that a wow good, or a wow shot down in flames?”

What happened next caused him to choke on his own tongue. The beauty in his arms shoved her hand into his shorts and squeezed his dick. A groan was pulled from his lips as she tested his girth. He wasn’t rocking a third leg or anything, but Nick had nothing to be ashamed of.

Slipping her hand from his shorts, she leaned in and nipped his ear. Her voice had a breathy quality.

“I love being part of the scientific process, especially when it’s a raging success.”

With that, she turned on her mile-high heels and strutted toward the locker room. Nick’s brain took a couple of heartbeats to catch on, but when it did, he jogged to keep up.

“Science fucking rocks.” Nick dropped back a few steps to appreciate the sway of her hips. As she opened the locker room door, she bent down and removed her underwear.

Nick couldn’t believe what was happening. She pushed open the door and he was hot on her heels. He didn’t even know her name, but when she bent over the counter and made eye contact with him in the mirror on the wall, he wanted to fucking propose.

“Okay, Killer, the night’s not getting any younger and I only have about fifteen minutes.”

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