Senn (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel Book 5) (11 page)

“Whose Beemer’s that in the driveway?” A man’s deep, slurred voice asks. Okay, so it’s not a hookup. “Some gold digger screwing you for a new ride?”

“That’s none of your fucking business!”

“She only wants you for your money. You know that, right? She’ll drain you dry—” The sentence is interrupted by a loud whomp like something or someone hitting a wall. Maybe it’s just the sound of my heart snapping in half after hearing this asshole tell Senn that his money is the only reason a woman would ever want him. Who would say such a thing?

“While I appreciate your concern for
my money
, my girlfriend actually has her own piles,” Senn snarls at the man. “Now get the fuck on!” Despite all my questions about what’s going on, the
G
word stands out. Did he really just call me his girlfriend?

The door slams, followed by the click and chain of locks being put in place before Senn comes back into view. His bare chest is heaving as he shoves his fingers through his long, wavy hair. He stops abruptly when he sees me leaning against the doorframe of the hallway entrance.

“Sorry,” he says simply, his voice sounding tired. We both stand there silently while I wait for him to explain. Instead, he just says, “Go back to bed, Abby.”

“Who was that?” I ask, not letting him off the hook that easily.

“No one,” he answers when he walks past me. I follow him back down the hall and to the bedroom where he takes off his pants and falls face first into bed. I join him, leaving his shirt on since it’s a little chilly with the air conditioner on full blast.

With his face buried in the pillows, it’s obvious by the tense cords of muscles in his shoulders and back that he’s still uptight about whoever his midnight visitor was. So, I climb on top of the mountain of a man, straddling his hips to massage the tension out of him with my thumbs. I start at his thick neck, and it doesn’t take long before he relaxes underneath me. When I work my way down either sides of his spine, he finally speaks.

“That was my dad.”

“Oh?” I ask in surprise. “He must be a night owl.”
And an asshole
.

“He’s a money grubbing leech who sleeps all day and drinks all night,” is Senn’s muffled response since he doesn’t lift his head from the mattress.

“So he shows up here in the middle of the night for money?”

“Yeah,” he says on an exhale. “First of the month, middle of the month. Whenever he and my mom need more.”

“Doesn’t he work?” I ask.

“Fuck no,” Senn replies gruffly. “I don’t think he’s worked a day in his life.”

“What about your mom?”

“Hell no. She’s worse than him. At least he occasionally sobers up enough to leave the house.”

My hands pause on his back as I think that over. Senn’s parents are dependent on
him
for money, not the other way around like it should be.“But then how did they afford shit before you had money to give them?”

“Stole it if they used up what they got from welfare. Booze always came first; and if anything was left over,
then
they bought food.”

“And you were raised like that?” I ask, completely appalled.

“Yeah,” he mutters after my hands resume working out the kinks in his lower back. “Lived on free breakfasts and lunches from school. In the summer, well, I stayed at friends’ houses a lot.”

“I’m sorry. That must’ve been awful.” He doesn’t respond, telling me it was probably even worse than I can imagine.

“I actually have them to thank for getting me into fighting,” Senn says. “If I hadn’t been kicking ass in underground fights, Linc wouldn’t have seen me and recruited me to train with his coach.”

“When did you start fighting?” Finished massaging his back, I move over to his biceps. It seems like as long as I keep my hands moving he keeps talking.

“I was fifteen the first time they threw me into a cage with no training or warning whatsoever.”

“Holy shit,” I gasp, imagining a younger, smaller Senn in the cage. He was probably terrified. “What happened?” I ask.

“Well, luckily I had plenty of experience taking hits, so once the guy wore himself out swinging at me, I finally hit him back. Won by knockout in the third round.” 

“How bad were you hurt?”

“Mostly just bruises. I was pretty numb afterwards. My dad gave me shots of whiskey until I blacked out.”

“Wow. He deserves the father of the year award,” I blurt out before I even consider the words. Only when I hear them do I regret saying them. I’m such a bitch. For weeks I’ve basically been telling Senn that he’s not capable of being a decent father to our daughter. But coming from that fucked up family, I would bet that he knows everything
not
to do.

“Senn, you know it’s nothing personal, right?” I eventually say into the heavy silence, trying to explain. “I just want what’s best for her…”

“Me, too,” he says softly before he rolls over to his back with me still straddling his hips. “I’m just not convinced that Linc and Claire are what’s best. I’m not saying I am either, because I don’t have the slightest fucking idea how to take care of a baby. But I…I think I wanna try.”

Seeing the sincerity in his amber eyes, I bite down hard on my bottom lip to try to prevent the dam from bursting. The tiny hint of pain doesn’t do any good to prevent the flood. This one has been a long time coming. I fall forward, sobbing onto Senn’s chest.

“I want…to be the one…who takes care of her,” I tell him as my entire body shakes with the force of all the emotions I’ve kept bottled up exploding from inside me. I’ve tried to keep a grip on them because I didn’t want to chance stressing out the baby, but I can’t do it anymore.

“Shh, Abby. It’s gonna be okay,” Senn says while he holds me.

“No, it’s not,” I tell him with a shake of my head. I’ve withheld from everyone the initial prognosis my oncologist gave me months ago, before I was even pregnant. There’s no amount of chemo or radiation to save me this time. “I’m scared of dying…but I’m even more terrified…of losing her…if I don’t make it long enough.”

“You can’t think that shit,” Senn says. “You’re gonna see her born healthy, and then you’re gonna do whatever it takes to get better, so you can take care of her.”

I reach down to rub my expanding belly when I feel the familiar sloshing. “She’s moving,” I tell him through the sniffles. “You can’t feel it on the outside yet, but she is.”

Senn brushes his knuckles over the side of my stomach. “I bet she’s giving me a fist bump because she knows I’m right,” he says, making me laugh. “What’s the earliest you can have her?”

“Probably thirty-four weeks, but thirty-six would be better to make sure her lungs are strong.”

“So that’s what, nineteen more weeks?” he asks, surprising me that he remembers how far along I am.

“Uh-huh.”

“Seventeen at least?”

“Yeah.”

“Easy,” he says. “Keep calm and spend the next four months buying baby shit and thinking about the long term instead of the short term. By Thanksgiving we’ll be sitting down for a family feast, laughing about how freaked out we were for nothing.”

“You gonna cook?” I tease even though it hurts to think about not being with him in just a few months. “‘Cause I don’t know how, and my family has sort of disowned me.”  

“What? Why would they do that?”

“Um, well, they’re not big fans of the baby out of wedlock, especially since this is my second offense, and they’re also pissed that I won’t get treatment. I guess by cutting ties with me now, they think it’ll be easier to say goodbye—”

“That’s bullshit!” Senn exclaims, lifting me off his chest to see my face.

“That’s my lovely family,” I laugh sadly, wiping away the remaining wetness from my tears. “My sister is still talking to me; but if my parents find out, she’ll be on their shitlist, too.”

“Wow,” he mutters. “Guess this little girl is fucked when it comes to
dolting
grandparents.”

I can’t hold in my giggle. “I think you mean doting.”

“No, they all qualify as dolts.”

“You’re right about that,” I agree.

“I’m sorry I knocked you up,” Senn tells me randomly while stroking his palms up the outsides of my thighs still straddling him.

“You don’t have to apologize for a condom failing us,” I assure him as I trace my fingertips along the indentions of his pecs and abs.

“Well, then I’m sorry we ever had sex,” he says softly. “If you’d been given a choice, I know I’m not the man you would’ve picked to be the father of your child while you have cancer.”

“I wanted to fuck you,” I reply since I can’t deny what he already knows the truth about. “And that wasn’t all bad, so I don’t regret it.”

“Wow.” He laughs, bouncing me on his chest. “Wasn’t all that bad?”

“Okay, it was pretty good.”

“Just pretty good?” he repeats, reaching up to yank on my braid.

“Fine,” I huff and roll my eyes. “It was the best I’ve ever had.”

He chuckles. “Right, now I know you’re blowing smoke up my ass.”

“That’s the truth,” I tell him. “A dying girl wouldn’t dare tell a lie. I’ve got to get right with the Lord and stay on the WWJD path.”

“Bullshit,” he says before rolling us over so that my back’s on the mattress. He’s careful to keep his weight on his forearms, so that he’s barely touching my stomach when he smirks down at me. “I know you’re lying about me being the best since you still go around acting like Linc’s got a chocolate-filled cock that you want to melt in your mouth.”

I burst out laughing at that creative description. “That’s hilarious,” I remark, running my fingers through his hair. “But not exactly true.”

Senn raises his eyebrow as if waiting for me to continue with an explanation.

Slapping a palm over my embarrassed face, I finally admit the truth. “His cock was too big.”

“No such thing,” Senn says immediately, lifting my hand and holding it out beside my head, so I have to look at him.

“My vagina disagrees.”

He looks down the length of my body. “You took two cocks at the same time the other day.”

“Yes,” I respond as I blush even harder. “It was made to stretch wider, not deeper. There’s only so far you can go before you hit the dead end.”

“I hit the dead end. You like it when I hit the dead end,” he points out.

“That is true,” I agree when my boobs tingle and pussy throbs just at the thought. “But then you turn around instead of trying to force a few more inches inside.”

“Seriously?” he asks in disbelief.

“Absolutely. I can’t tell a lie or my stomach will get bigger,” I tease. Looking at my expansive bump and then up at him, with all his massive, chiseled from stone perfection, hovering above me… Well, there’s a reason he gets inside more cunts than a gynecologist.

“What’s with the frown?” he asks.

“I’m huge.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Yes, and I’m fine with that. I just…I don’t know how you and Luke can get it up when I’m naked.”

“Getting it up isn’t the problem,” he says, grinding his thick, swollen cock into my pelvis and making me gasp. “Trying to keep it down is a little
harder
.”

Leaning down, he cups one of my breasts and sucks the nipple into his eager mouth. That’s all it takes to have me soaking wet between my thighs. His mouth slowly works its way up my chest and neck, making me squirm desperately underneath him. I reach around and squeeze his tight ass, trying to force him against me. When he chuckles against my jaw, I go in for the kill, slipping my hand between our bodies to wrap my fist around his cock and guide him inside me.

“Fuck, yes,” Senn growls in approval before his mouth crashes frantically down on mine. Our kiss is hungry and desperate as we tongue fuck each other as good, if not better, than our lower bodies, moving in a perfect, effortless rhythm.

Senn’s enormous hand slips underneath my ass, lifting my hips to penetrate me deeper, grinding himself on my clit with each powerful thrust. My thighs squeeze the sides of his waist as my entire body starts to tense just before I’m catapulted higher into ecstasy than ever before. If my moans hadn’t been swallowed by Senn, the entire neighborhood would’ve woken up and needed a cigarette after hearing just how incredible this round was.

Senn’s hips slam home one last time before he surrenders to his own body rocking release.

“Wow,” I gasp when our mouths separate to suck in much needed oxygen. “That was intense.”

“Uh-huh,” he mutters before rolling off of me. Usually a cuddler after sex, I welcome the cool breeze on my overheated, sweat-soaked skin this time. “Good times, especially with no condoms. But tomorrow I’ll have to change my sheets,” he says. 

“Like you don’t go through a few sets a week,” I reply.

“I don’t. You think I’m stupid enough to bring sluts here, so that they can randomly show back up whenever they want? Hell no.”

Well, that’s…surprising, but I guess it makes sense. Hard to be a player if stray pussies keep accumulating on your doorstep. The reminder of his history of
hit it and quit it
makes me wonder just how long he can go without fucking someone else. Sure, he says that’s fine now, but what about when I get sicker and no longer feel like giving it up several times a night?