Read Linc (A Cocky Cage Fighter Novel Book 3) for Free Online Page B

rather do than jump up and go break all of their hands and necks, and that's have her keep sittin’ on my lap. "Do you paint nude men or what?" I tease to try and keep her talkin’. My joke works. She smiles and shakes her head. I really like makin’ her say no just to see her hair bounce. I'd give anything to run my fingers through it.                  
    "Not nude men. Mostly, um, nature, like outdoor scenes. You know, beaches and lakes, sunsets over fields, that sort of thing," she responds in a hurry.
    "Wow, that's...surprisin’, but I'd love to see what you've painted."
    "I'm not good or anything. I just do it for fun and can only afford cheap paint-" She stops abruptly again, lowerin’ her eyes like she's embarrassed after admittin’ she doesn't have a lot of money. I never thought porn stars were rollin’ in dough, but I would've thought they would do well enough to buy art supplies. That's fuckin’ sad as shit. I'm two seconds away from emptyin’ my wallet just to wipe that look off her face. But then she finally seems to relax, lowerin’ herself so that she's sittin’ down all the way on my lap. Feelin’ her weight on my cock sucks all the air from my lungs.
    "So tell me, Linc Abrams, what do you like to do for fun?" she asks, givin’ me a smile that says she knows just how close she is to makin’ the Cock Ness Monster explode.
    I swallow down my groan and order my tense hips not to do what they’re beggin’ to do; thrust my hard cock up into her. Back in control of myself, I’m eventually able to respond. "Since I've been out of the cage with a broken arm," I tell her, holdin’ up the brace, "Mostly helpin’ coach the younger guys and watchin’ porn."
    "The cage?" she asks, her eyes widenin’. 
    "MMA, mixed martial arts."
    "Yeah, I know what all that is, but you fight people, like, as a living?"
    "Uh-huh."
    She tilts her head and examines every inch of my face. "You don't seem like the type of guy who would hit people."
    "I don't?" I ask, knowin’ exactly what she’s thinkin’, and like usual, it pisses me off. She’s gonna say some bullshit like I seem too fuckin’ sweet or nice. Oh, baby, you have no idea how fuckin’ violent and destructive the beast inside of me can be .
    "Nope, you don’t. My little brother Mason is a cage fighter and his face is always messed up. Yours is…" Her fingertips brush gently down the side of my face, right along the path of my five o'clock shadow. And now I want nothin’ more than for her to close the inches between us and kiss me. "Definitely not messed up. I could see you as an adrenaline junkie driving a race car or riding a bull, but not beating up other dudes."
    "How do you know I beat up other dudes? Maybe they kick my ass."
    "Then, like I tell Mason, you're an idiot for letting them keep hurting you," she says, nodding to the brace.
    "This is the first time I've ever really been hurt. My arm snapped while I was defendin’ my IFC World Welterweight title for the fifth consecutive year." I can’t help but brag just a little. This is the girl of my dreams and I want to impress her. With more than just my big cock.  
    "Ouch," she says with a wince. "How bad was it?"
    "Hurt like a motherfucker."
    The fact that I'm havin’ a discussion about my injury while a naked porn star sits on me in a strip club is surreal. Definitely not what I had in mind when I decided I should meet Eve Kelly. No, what I had in mind included me also bein’ naked in the equation and not many words bein’ exchanged. I know that makes me a total jackass for not only thinkin’ she'd actually want me but for thinkin’ she fucks every man she meets just because of her profession. She's not a whore, I get that now, and I’m ashamed of even thinkin’ such a disrespectful thing for even a second. In fact, Eve’s so far from bein’ slutty in person that it's hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that she fucks men on camera for a livin’.
    "How do