Page 3 of Thunder

“You mean the one in the white skirt who practically gave you a handy after the fight? The one I’m assuming you just fucked?”

“Yeah, smartass, that one.”

“Nope. I was guarding the hall for you. By the way, you’re welcome, asshat.”

“Thanks, man. Let me get cleaned up and maybe we can hang around and see if she resurfaces.” Thunder figured she bolted through the back since she didn’t pass Pound. He wasn’t too worried; she’d be back at the fights. He’d caught glimpses of her a few times before, but she was always at the back of the crowd just watching the fights. Never talked to the fighters that he saw.

“No can do. We’ve got about two minutes before we need to get gone. Granite called us in about fifteen minutes ago. We need to haul to make it in time.”

“Shit, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I had no desire to see your pasty white ass pounding some pussy. Besides, I knew you didn’t have the stamina to make us late. No wonder she bailed on you.”

They stepped back into the locker room. “Ha-ha, very funny, asshole. I gave it to her just fine. Bet she had somewhere to be.” He felt a bit defensive about the whole thing. He was the one who bailed, not the one left standing with his dick out. Thunder didn’t fucking like this side of the situation one bit. He wasn’t a total asshole and wondered if the women he’d fucked and left felt this kind of emotional shit after he was gone.

Probably not, he was always upfront and honest with them.

After getting dressed in record time, he declared, “Let’s roll.”

2

ANDREA

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” The styptic pencil stung as she applied it to the cut. It wasn’t a huge cut, it barely hurt, but if Ozzy saw it, he would pull her from the ticket. He may run questionable fights, but he actually cared about everyone who trained at The Rage Cage.

She’d be a witch’s crusty cunt if she’d let that happen. After finally convincing Ozzy to give her a fight in his not so up and up circuit, she wasn’t about to blow it.

Andy needed to be out there in five minutes and without an open wound. Not that the guys checked as thoroughly as the accredited fights, but they did cursory once-overs.

After getting dressed but before wrapping her knuckles, she pulled her hair back…damn it.

Left with little choice, she let her hair down, grabbed the scissors, and gave herself bangs.Fucking bangs.

Bangs for a bang.The voice of her best friend sounded in her head. She knew Lexi would say just that when she saw her, and she’d have to explain why she gave herself fucking bangs like a bored middle-schooler on summer break with hormones taunting herthey’ll look amazing.

They did not look amazing. They looked hideous and set off her square jaw. Giving her an even more masculine appearance. With her body, it wasn’t hard to look manly. That’s why when she wasn’t trying to book a fight or training to fight, she loved her hair long and flowing, her makeup smoky, and her heels high. Bangs boxed in her features like some bowl cut little boy from the seventies who hates everything.

However, the fight meant more to her than vanity.Besides, they’ll grow out soon enough.She pulled the rest of her hair back and nodded to herself in the mirror and got one of the female fighters passing through to wrap her knuckles.

Standing at the door, Andy took calming breaths before heading out. Excitement coursed through her body with a tingle, and not just the pre-fight kind. She could wait for the fighter she knew as Killer, the man who was responsible for a pretty amazing orgasm and some not so amazing bangs, to see she was a fighter too. He probably thought she was some fight groupie.

Just thinking about him set her lady parts afire. Most men were intimidated by her or thought she wasn’t feminine enough to put on a little black dress and rock a cocktail party. Killer seemed very different. He wasn’t turned off by her muscles. In fact, he seemed to want to fuck her because of them.

Her hopes were high that she could get his number and maybe do a repeat of their earlier locker room romp. She stepped out and one of the trainers, Cap, she thought his name was, met her at the door.

“Ozzy put you with me. I see you’re wrapped up and ready to go. I’ve watched you training. Not feeling too bad about your chances tonight. What you need to do is avoid her left hook. I’ve seen her lay down fighters who out skilled her pound for pound with that left tap to the temple. You avoid that, and we got this. You ready?”

“Yep, she got any weak spots?”

“None that I’ve noticed. She’s not super skilled all around, just average. Her kick is not very high or powerful, but enough to hurt. However, she always seems to land that headshot and down they go. Her record doesn’t reflect her overall skill as a fighter. She’s lazy and relies solely on that temple tap for a win. Avoid it, and you’ll force her to fight, and then her weakness will show. She’ll tire out, and then you wail on her. Do that fucking power kick I’ve seen you land. That’s your money right there. Unless someone has watched you train, no one is expecting that height with that kind of power. Either way, take the bitch down.”

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Before she entered the octagon, she’d scanned the entire crowd and Killer wasn’t there. Disappointment overtook her, but she had to get her head on the fight. Killer was one of the top draws, so she knew she would see him soon enough.

As the ref checked her for cheats, he swiped her bangs away but was looking at her boobs. Andy cut her gaze toward Ozzy to see if the eagle-eyed man had noticed the cut. He squinted, but she entered before he could tell.

Sarah “Sleep Tight” Stevens was inside bouncing on the balls of her feet. When the ref gave the rules and they bumped fists, Sarah growled. Andy blew her a kiss and smiled, making sure her opponent could read CUNT on her mouthguard.

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