AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I reached around, my fingers finding his cock. I stroked him in time with my thrusts, feeling him grow harder in my hand than what seemed humanly possible. His breath hitched, his body tensing as he approached his climax. I could feel myself getting closer, too, the familiar tension building in my lower belly.
With a final thrust, I pushed deep inside him and held still as I came. Lotto followed shortly after, his body shuddering with release. We stood there for a moment, catching our breath as the water rained down on us. Then, slowly, I pulled out and turned him around to face me.
I cupped his face in my hands, looking into his eyes. “I’ll try the gym. I’ll give it a shot. But only on one condition.”
“Yes,” he said, as if reading my mind. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll be your manager and manage the fuck out of you.”
Chapter 8
Ari
Iscanned the potential candidates who were entering the gym for tryouts today, not feeling any of them. It had been hard going, but ever since Bones had made it obvious that fighting—or seriously fighting—wasn’t in his heart at the moment, I forced myself to sign up some others for tryouts. Although my gut told me they wouldn’t be anywhere near as good as Bones, and not even close to Freakshow, they were at least newbies which meant there wouldn’t be any contractual issues or arrogance.
They needed Smiley’s more than we needed them.
I did prefer to be in a position of power, but by the looks of some who stood ready to fight, Frankie was going to chew them up, spit them out, then stomp on whatever regurgitated mess remained.
As soon as I left Bones’ house, I got online to do a bit of research on him. I wanted to know what this massive issue was that was holding him back and find out what I was so clearly missing. I was aware about the scene from Lola and even Frankie, to some degree, so I knew how gossip could turn toxic and how deep you had to plow in to find out the truth. From doing a lot of digging around and wading through the bullshit, I eventually discovered that Bones got into the grips of a gambling and drug addiction, which had made him act recklessly.
Many other reports suggested terrible things, including countless pictures and gossip about him sleeping with just about every model and starlet from the West to the East Coast, but I didn’t know how much of it I believed. The gambling and the match throwing I bought, but the rest of it about serious drug and alcohol use, as well as hanging with some notorious mob-related people I wasn’t so sure about. It was likely blown out of proportion because of who he was, and how notorious he became back then.
To me, it didn’t seem big enough to keep him away from the cage forever. It was such a shame about his adoptive father being ill, because that would halt him for sure.
“Okay, everyone,” I called out to the five prospective fighters in front of me. “Freakshow will be here soon enough to explain the process of tryouts to you, but what I’m going to say is that we’ll have you guys spar against some of our best in the gym, see who fights well and who gets their ass kicked the worst, and go from there…”
My words trailed off as a familiar figure entered the gym. One whom I really didn’t expect to see moving across the room.
Bones Vega—he had actually come.
My heart thundered, and I had to gulp down a thick ball of emotion lodged in my throat. I shouldn’t feel the way I did. I really shouldn’t, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. There was just something about this tatted, muscled, and handsome man that had me feeling a little unstable… which was inappropriate.
I needed to stop it now, before it got in the way of him potentially joining our gym. If we could land him, things would start looking up for us. Smiley’s would reign once more, even if we had to morph to make it happen.
In the end, I forced myself to drag my eyes away and look down at the clipboard in front of me. I tried to read the names that were swimming in a blur in front of me, wanting to keep my professional position of power.
“Hello there,” Frankie called out in an overly friendly tone, which really grated on me. He’d go in like this, all nice, then his attitude would turn as soon as people relaxed and let down their guard. Why couldn’t he just be charming all the damn time? It sure as hell would make my life easier. “Let’s talk through what’s going to happen today.”
