Page 83 of Impromptu Match

I sat up straighter when his tongue suddenly snapped toward Kit. Specifically, toward their ass. They jerked up with a dramatic start, their wings snapping closed, then spun around to bare their little fangs at Vince as he let out a hearty laugh.

“Good grief.”

Holt snorted, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “It’s called the Rim Jab. He does it as often as he can. Don’t forget, it’s all scripted. Kit knew it was coming.”

“I know, but… jeez.” I looked over at him. “If you do end up doing an online stream, you’ll have to make sure it’s behind an adults-only wall.”

He smirked at me, sifting his fingers through the short hair on the back of my head. “That’s right, your sexy little ideas that’ll make me more money.”

I blushed, leaning into him and wanting to melt when I felt him press a kiss to my hair and inhale deeply.

“God, you smell so good.” His voice had deepened and grown raspier. My breath caught, and I lifted my chin to look up at him.

He kissed me, keeping it soft and slow as his tongue glided into my mouth and slid against mine. It went on for long moments as the sounds of the arena faded away, before we both remembered where we were when Holt’s phone buzzed on the couch cushion beside him. Several times, as if a stream of texts was coming through.

I was pretty sure I knew who that would be.

He pulled back, licking his lips and looking a little dazed as he glanced down at it. When he opened his messages, there were several waiting from Larkin.

EWWWWW

A line of tongue emojis followed it, then:

GROSS BRO

Y’ALL HAVE NO SHAME

WE CAN SEE YOU

Dan says Taylor should stick his fingers in your mouth

I choked on a breath as Holt’s head whipped up. His eyes narrowed, and I followed their direction to see, across the arena, Larkin standing in the windows of the wrestlers’ backstage area, which was on the same level as the private box.

He was holding Cora up to the window, as if she’d requested a front row seat to us making out. Dullahan Dan was beside him, dressed in a gaping black cowboy shirt and tiny cut-off denim shorts. He was holding his head up to watch as well.

They both started cackling, and I saw Cora yip excitedly as Larkin kissed the top of her head and tucked her back under his arm.

“He’s such a little shitbag,” Holt muttered, holding up his middle finger to the pair. “When he finally gets a boyfriend or girlfriend, I’m going to make his life fucking miserable.”

I snuffled a laugh. “Is he always like this with people you date?”

“I haven’t dated anyone since he started working for me, so he hasn’t had the opportunity before now.” Holt rolled his eyes.

I grinned at him, then—after checking that Larkin and Dullahan Dan weren’t still watching—lunged up to give him another kiss until the feverish cheering of the crowd drew my gaze back to the arena.

Kit was hovering over the mat, wings a blur to keep them aloft. They booted Vince in the chest, making him pinwheel his arms as his skates slipped out from under him. While he was distracted, Kit shot high into the air above the ring, veering around the cage dangling above and vanishing among the spotlights shining down.

Once Vince recovered, he peered up with a glare, squinting as he searched for Kit while looking directly into the spotlights. Suddenly, a black shape shot down from the shadows, smashed right into him, and took them both down to the mat.

“Ohh, and that’s Lights Out for the Rolling Rimmer!” the commentator crowed. “The Night Light’s classic move, executed flawlessly. Our disco-dancing ghoul won’t be doing the Hustle tonight, folks!”

Kit managed to pin Vince and won the match. As the crowd cheered, they leaped onto the ropes, their tarsal claws curling to keep them steady, and showboated like an old-timey wrestler for the audience while Vince slunk out of the ring and skated morosely down the walkway.

After Kit and Vince’s match, it was time for Susan and Val to fight. They were so energetic, and Susan was frankly terrifying, with her icy blue eyes glaring at Val Kyl-More over her black spiked mask. I got to see her signature move, the Wailing Beatdown, where she rapidly pummelled Val’s stomach with her fists while the Valkyrie was sprawled against a corner post of the ring.

“I thought closed-fist punches were illegal in pro wrestling,” I said, watching in awe, which made Holt chuckle with a shrug.

“These guys can take a lot more.”

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