Naked Affair (Erotic Romance Bundle) by Dalia Daudelin

Author:Dalia Daudelin [Daudelin, Dalia]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Midnight Climax
Published: 2016-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Eight

Wes

Wes's warm-up on fights he thought might actually cause trouble for him wasn't exactly the stuff of legends. That being said, it was more complex than just walking over to the promoter and introducing himself. The sound of his feet pounding onto the pavement sounded through the parking structure as he turned back inside it, a light layer of sweat already worked up on his forehead. He took the sweatshirt off and threw it into the back seat of the Fiero, then went to see Bradley.

He was sitting with Higa, who was all smiles. Bradley wasn't. "Wes, I don't know if this is a good idea."

"What's wrong?"

"Wes, you look like hell."

"It's a little late to back out now, Mr. Bradley."

The words came out of Wes's mouth, but from Higa's expression, he might have said them himself. The look of surprise on his face, on the other hand, told Wes that he hadn't expected not to have to say it.

"Exactly so, Mr. Bradley. The fight's going to be starting in, what, ten minutes? Five? We're past the point of letting sleeping dogs lie."

"I know, but— aw, hell." Bradley nodded to Wes, who went off to the little secluded area where the fighters kept to themselves, separated by a little thin card between them.

If someone had a real vendetta against him, it wouldn't be all that hard to just come right on through with a knife or a gun, and make it happen. But they wouldn't, because it would be just as easy to bring a knife into the ring.

You'd be disqualified from the fight, but nobody was going to jump in and save his neck. And you'd be able to show the world what happens to people you don't like.

Wes started going through his stretches, just about enough space between the packed-in cars to lay out flat. He decided he was finished when he heard his name, jumped up, and headed into the ring.

The place was packed. If this really was a last-minute thing, a fight they'd added to the calendar only a week or two ago, then Wes was God damned surprised. They'd advertised it well in that week.

He slipped under the ring rope and raised his hand, turning to look around the crowd. For a moment, his wishful mind thought he saw Minami in that thick crowd, but he already knew better than to believe it, and when he looked again on the second turn, she wasn't there any more.

The Japanese came next. This wasn't some big Sumo mother fucker like the last one. He might have been five-seven and a buck fifty, but you could count the muscle fibers in his shoulder if you had enough time on your hands.

The crowd exploded when he hit. Wes didn't recognize his name, but then he never would. These guys were nobodies to him, and it didn't much matter how popular they were somewhere else. It wasn't as if he was going to study match footage beforehand.

The guy bowed to him, and Wes bowed back, not wanting to be rude.

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