Chapter 1
Knox
Strip clubs were not my idea of a good time. Some poor, pathetic girl letting horny bastards drool all over her, so she could make a few bucks, was more pitiful than anything. I didn’t need to pay to have a girl get me all worked up. I’d rather fuck something for free. And I could, with whoever I wanted.
All I had to do was say when and where. Nobody said no to Knox “Knockout” McArthur. Girls flocked to me and practically begged me to stick my cock inside them. They all wanted to ride a champion.
But not tonight. Tonight, my friends and I were celebrating, and for them, strip clubs were Disney World to their inner child. I couldn’t deny them that when they all just collected a shit ton of money because of me.
I’d won my fifth consecutive fight, making me undefeated. Not that I ever had a single doubt. I was the king of the UFC, and the one who brought it from the underground to the forefront of Vegas. It was bigger than boxing now, and billionaires were coming out from all corners of the world to bet on and against me.
“Get this man a drink,” Sebastian, my best friend from childhood and a self-made billionaire, said to the bartender as we walked to our table. He smacked my shoulder. “I don’t give a shit if you don’t drink anymore. You’re drinking tonight!” He sat down at the table, his back to the almost naked girl on stage. This wasn’t his scene either. At least, not since he got engaged to Annabelle.
“Look at those titties.” Julius waved hundred-dollar bills like they were singles. At twenty-four years old, he was the highest paid NBA player and worth every fucking penny. He played like Lebron James and partied like a frat boy during pledge week.
He didn’t stop at our table. Instead, he bee-lined it right to the stage, where the blonde bent over, shaking her ass in his face, then pulled at the side of her G-string. He slipped a hundred into the tiny piece of material. As a thank you, the girl turned around, stripped her top off, and grabbed the back of his head, pressing his face into her tits.
She let his head go, and he turned around with the biggest fucking grin on his face. Marco, on break from filming his latest action movie, went up to Julius and high-fived him. They were the two biggest perverts I ever met, but they were good people.
A waitress in a red and black corset, skimpy black shorts, and fishnets stopped at our table. She bent over, reaching for a napkin, her tits practically exploding from her top. Sebastian didn’t even bat an eye, but Marco and Julius, who had finally joined us, ogled her like she was their next meal.
“First round is on the house, compliments of the owner.” She nodded behind her to a fat guy with a pinky ring, then brought a tray around with four glasses and a bottle of Cristal.
I grabbed a glass and held it up in the owner’s direction to show my appreciation, though, I knew damn well he just won twenty-grand because of me. The least he could do was buy me and my friends a few drinks.
Marco stood up with his glass. “To Knox, the baddest mother fucker in the country.”
We clinked our glasses, and when Marco sat down, the waitress parked her ass on his lap. He was a regular here when he was in town, and the poor sap loved to pamper these girls. And they knew it. They worked him like a fucking porn star worked a dick, milking him dry. He might have won a shit ton of money tonight, but by daybreak, it would all be gone.
The waitress waved a brunette over who wrapped herself around Julius.
The music changed and the stage lights dimmed. Sebastian got up to take a call—the man never stopped working—and so, with Marco and Julius busy, I turned my attention to the stage.
My eyes settled first on sky high heels and traveled up long sculpted legs to a plaid skirt that stopped just beneath a tight ass. She bent over, revealing two perfect cheeks that were begging to be grabbed and spanked.
Confidence poured out of her as she strutted down the stage and stopped right in front of me. She winked at me, her green eyes flirty and intense as she dropped to her knees.
She ran her hands up her thighs, across her flat stomach to the sliver of white material knotted in the front. Her fingers worked the knot effortlessly and she shed the top. I bit my lip as she ran a finger over her rosy nipple and pinched it between her fingers. Unlike most of the girls here, she was a hundred percent natural.
My dick throbbed against the zipper of my pants, and I leaned back in my chair as she took to the pole. Her blonde hair, parted into two pigtails, spun with her, but unlike her tits, the hair was as fake as a counterfeit bill. I wondered what her real color was and how it would look spread out across my pillow.
The skirt came off next, and she stood in a tiny white G-string. I wanted to rip of the sliver of material off her with my teeth and leave nothing to my imagination.
Her skin glowed beneath the spotlight as she finished her routine. She was perfection on that stage.
A guy on the other side of the stage whistled, and she backed her ass up to him. His greedy hand reached out to grab her, and she moved away, waving a disapproval finger at him. He held up a lousy five-dollar bill, and she spun back around and tugged the string off her curve and in his direction.
Once again, he tried to cop a feel, but she was quick. In the corner, a wall of a man started making his way over, but she held him off with a look. It was clear the girl could handle herself.
I felt a smack to my shoulder, but didn’t glance away. “Oh, yeah, he likes her,” I heard Julius say.
I shook out of the trance I was in and swiveled in my chair away from the stage. “Just something to look at,” I uttered and took a swig of the Cristal.
“Yeah okay,” Marco said with way too much sarcasm. “And you just read Playboy for the articles, right?”
“What’d I miss?” Sebastian slid into his seat, adjusting his tie that probably cost more than the bottle of Cristal.
It was perfect timing on his part, and I went to change the topic of conversation when Julius beat me to it. “Knox over here has a major chubby for one of the strippers.”
I laughed. “Far from it.”
Sebastian laughed with me. He’d known me the longest. Fifteen years, and he knew damn well I didn’t get hung up on women. They were good for a fuck or two, but, other than that, I couldn’t be bothered with them. My career was all I had time for.
Julius whispered into the waitress’s ear and she got up, running a finger down his jaw. “I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, she returned with the schoolgirl. I gave Julius a dirty look, but he couldn’t care less as the waitress settled back into his lap.
The schoolgirl held her delicate hand out to me. “Let’s go, handsome.” Her voice was silky smooth and, even though she only said three words, I could tell she meant business.
I stared down at her waiting hand. “Where we going?”
She leaned toward me, brushing her perfect tits against my arm. She smelled so fucking good. Too good for a girl who took her clothes off for a living. Her lips grazed my ear, her breath warm against my skin. “What’s the fun in telling you?”
I didn’t do lap dances. It was a waste of time with no payoff. “I don’t know what my boys told you, but I’m good.” I shifted because, despite my words, my dick strained hard against my jeans.
Her eyes leveled with mine. “Too bad for you, they already paid and I don’t do refunds.” She grabbed my hand and yanked me up from my chair. She might have been a little thing, but the girl was not weak. Her teeth slid out over her pouty bottom lip. “I don’t bite. Promise.”