Beyond The Cage (13 page)

“Don’t you want to see what I got you?” I taunt him as I innocently bat my lids.

Forcing my hands to my sides, he peers down the unbuttoned portion of my dress. Tentatively, he reaches for the next button. I watch his eyes as his fingers move down, lust seeping into them with each inch of skin exposed. Me? Every brush of his fingers against my skin sends me shivering. He pushes the dress over my shoulders, and as it falls to the floor, he gasps, eyes going wide in amazement. I kick the garment aside and turn around slowly, giving him a three-sixty view.

“What do you think?”

In response, he scoops me up into his arms and races to the bedroom. Burying my face in his neck, I kick off my shoes and giggle at his enthusiasm.
That was pretty easy
. He tosses me on the bed and climbs on top of me. I moan as I pull his head down to mine for a kiss, but he bypasses my lips and presses his to my neck. He’s moving fanatically, hands groping, lips skating across my skin. It’s like he can’t get enough of me. Finally, he kisses me, attaching himself to my lips like a vacuum cleaner. I didn’t expect this kind of intensity, but I welcome it gladly. Grasping my thigh, he pins my leg against him and flexes his hips. His dick, straining against his shorts, is lodged against my pulsating pussy. There’s a ripping sound and I gasp as he pulls the material away from my breasts.
So much for my new lingerie
. When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I grab a handful of his hair, holding him in place.

“Cameron…”

He moans as he moves to my other breast. It’s like he’s in a frenzy! I’ve never seen him like this before. He pulls at the lingerie again and there’s another rip – the bottom half has been easily disposed of. I grab his shirt and he finally allows me to remove it. Matching his contagious intensity, I run my hands down and across his back and massive shoulders. Pushing him onto the bed, I straddle him. When I reach for the button on his shorts, he grabs my wrists. He slips from beneath me, jumps off the bed, and begins to pace the room in frustration.
Shit!
I watch him, the light of the moon shining through the window, illuminating his path as he moves.
Guess I’m not getting what I want after all.

“Cameron…it’s okay. We don’t have to.”

He turns to me, disbelief in his expression.
What? Am I such a sex fiend?

“I understand,” I assure him.

He expels a breath of relief.

I do understand…but right now, my body is not listening to my brain. Just because he can’t, doesn’t mean I have to deprive myself.

“I’ll just take care of it myself,” I tell him.

As I lie back, spread my legs, and plant my heels on the bed, I smile deviously at him. I close my eyes and, like before, imagine it’s him between my legs. Reaching down, I slide my finger along my pussy, feeling just how wet I am. How wet he made me. I know he’s watching, and it’s exhilarating. Cupping my breast, I massage it, pinching my nipple as I play with my clit. I take a peek and he’s staring at me, transfixed. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s breathing heavily. I spread my legs farther apart, arch my back, and expel a moan. Closing my eyes tightly, I lose myself in the sensations from both my own fingers and his hungry stare.

That’s why I didn’t see or hear him move.

I let out a surprised squeal as he grabs my ankles and drags me to the edge of the bed. I stare up at him, my breaths shallow. I don’t understand how it’s possible for me to want him so much. One thing is clear in those silver eyes of his – he feels the same.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to mine. They’re soft, sweet, moving skillfully and tenderly against mine. My hands find their way around his neck, stroking his skin. He moves across my cheek, down to my neck. My body quivers as his tongue darts out, leaving wet spots on my neck and shoulders, not to mention farther down. My back arches as his tongue glides over my nipple. He continues his journey south, kissing my stomach, sides, and hips. He’s barely touching me; how can this slight contact cause such havoc on my body? I whimper as he moves farther still, gently biting down on the flesh of my mound.
Fuck!
I prop myself up on my elbows, looking down at him to see his eyes closed. Dipping his head, he inhales deeply then looks up at me with a smirk.

Did he just smell me?
“Did you just…
smell
me?”
I can’t believe he just smelled me!

He ignores my question, which I promptly forget about when he spreads my pussy open and licks my clit.

“Oh, shit!”

I collapse on the bed, shaking as he licks me. Why am I not surprised he also has a talented tongue? Jesus, the things he’s doing to me are probably illegal in some states. Reaching up, he curls his fingers around my breasts and sucks on my clit. My hips rear up off the bed, and I grab a handful of his hair.

“Cameron!”

He pushes my legs farther apart and slips a finger inside me.
Fuck
.
Me
. As his tongue swirls on my clit, his finger moves in and out, taking me higher and higher. Reaching up once more, he pinches my nipple with his free hand. Now,
that’s
what I call multi-tasking!

“Fuck!”

He grabs my thighs, holding me in place as his tongue moves faster, pushing me toward fulfillment. It won’t be long now. I grab the sheets, pulling them from the mattress in the process. His tongue swirls on my clitoral hood, concentrating on the ten and two o’ clock positions.
Oh
,
shit!
When it slips beneath the hood, the action pushes me over the edge. A pussy mechanic…that’s what he is. I’m writhing like a demon is being exorcised from my body. Linda Blair ain’t got nothin’ on me. I scream his name as I come violently against his lips, shaking from head to toe. When he leans over me, I’m still twitching, gasping for breath.

“You…you’re…ama…zing,” I manage to get out between breaths.

I tug him to me, hungrily latching on to his lips, tasting myself on him. I reach for his button, and again, he pulls away. He sighs in exasperation, grabbing his crotch. With a shake of his head, he walks off to the bathroom. When the water comes on, I realize he’s taking a cold shower.
There’s that discipline Mannie told me about.

Poor thing. I won’t mess with him anymore.
I can’t be naked when he comes back. In the dark, I make my way over to his chest of drawers and grab a T-shirt. I slip it over my head, fix the sheets, and climb back into bed. When he walks back in, he turns the light on, and I watch him as he moves around the room, salivating over his perfect physique. That’s when I notice the shopping bags in the corner of the room – Saks, Nordstrom, Neiman Marcus, and Barney’s.

“Someone went shopping! Did you get me anything?”

He gestures toward the bags, indicating I should take a look.
He really
did
get me something?
I hop out of bed and walk over to them, eyeing the two Victoria’s Secret bags I missed before. Picking them up, I move back to the bed.

“I somehow think the contents of these bags are more for you than for me.” I smile over at him.

While I’m rummaging through the Vicky’s bags—a mass of panties and bras in different colors, styles, and fabrics—he places the others on the bed. I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes.

“They’re all for me?” I ask in disbelief.

All I get is a smile and a view of his back as he walks into the bathroom.
I guess Christmas came early this year!
I dump everything onto the bed. There are jeans, tops, skirts, shorts, casual dresses, jackets, sexy nightgowns, sandals, and a pair of Nikes. How much did all this cost?

Feeling his gaze on me, I look up and find him watching me from the bathroom door. He moves toward me with a concerned frown.

“What’s all this for?”

He takes my hand, leads me to his chest of drawers, and pulls out the top drawer. It’s empty.
Holy crap!

“You’re giving me a drawer?”

With a smile, he drags me to the closet next. A section at the front has been cleared, empty hangers waiting to be utilized.

Wow…this is big. Isn’t it?

“Cameron…”

I throw my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest. I do that a lot, don’t I? He’s serious…like,
really
serious. Thank God I’m not alone in this. I don’t know exactly what his feelings are, but he wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t feeling
something
. It makes me even more confident of the place he holds in my heart.

“Thank you.”

He kisses my forehead, and we head back to the bed. My new clothes are strewn all over it, so I get to work putting them away. A thought occurs to me, and I shoot a smile in his direction.

“No more walks of shame?”

He grins, patting the space next to him on the bed.

“In a minute.” As I walk to the bathroom, I glance back at him over my shoulder. “And don’t think I forgot that you broke my orgasm rule, mister.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. When I turn on the bathroom light, the first thing I see is a small, green robe hanging next to his big, blue one.
Aww
…

I also notice a bunch of products in a corner.
O.M.G!
I see my deodorant, favorite perfume, hair products, lotion, body wash, and my hair brush. What did he do, raid my apartment? Examining them more closely, I realize they’re all new. I had no idea he was paying such close attention. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’s…nesting. I brush my teeth, wash my face, and hurry back to him.

It’s my turn to observe him from the bathroom door. He’s watching his DVD again, so absorbed in it he pays me no attention when I move to the bed. I pick up the remote, hit Pause, and climb on top of him. He places his hands on my hips and smiles up at me. I cradle his face and lean forward.

“I could do major damage to your reputation if anyone found out what a sweetheart you really are.”

I touch my lips to his in a gentle kiss then lay my head on his shoulder, wiggling my hips to get more comfortable. He grabs my hips and groans.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry!” I exclaim, realizing what I did. I look down at him, truly remorseful. “Do you want me to go?”

He shakes his head, so I carefully move to the other side of the bed.

“Okay. I won’t bug you anymore. Goodnight.”

He leans over, plants a chaste kiss on my lips, and returns his attention to the TV.

Lying on my side, I watch him. God knows he’s not what I thought I wanted…but He knows best. What I thought I didn’t want is turning out to be exactly what I need.

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit. – Aristotle

I survey my surroundings in disdain. If it wasn’t for Cameron, I would never have set foot in a place like this again. The smoke from the special effects mingles with smoke from cigarettes and cigars. I know I smell weed in the mix, too. Chelsea seems unaffected, bouncing around like an excited child. I hope he’s as quick with this fight as he was with The Pitbull.

I didn’t see much of him today. When I woke up, he was gone. I heard the noise coming from the gym and didn’t want to bother him, so I stayed upstairs. The text I woke up to had me feeling so good, I cleaned, changed the sheets, and did laundry.

Cameron: As long as you’re my woman, you’ll never have to “take care of it” yourself.

I thought that also warranted him a home-cooked meal. There’s a meal plan stuck to the fridge, so I fixed his lunch. Everything I did made him ecstatic, which, in turn, made me ecstatic. Since he was busy, I spent the rest of the day with Chels. Cameron and Jared picked us up, and we all came here together.

“Helloooo…Earth to Planet Jasmine.”

“Huh?” I turn to Chels in confusion.

“Where’d you go?”

“I just want this to be over so we can leave.”

She jerks her head toward the commentators. “They’re talking about your man.”

Shaking off my distraction, I listen closely. They’re mostly talking about his record, style of fighting, and the fact that he’s known for knockout wins, while Chico’s wins are mostly submissions…but then, it gets interesting.

“Word on the street is that he found himself a girlfriend,” one of them says.

“I wonder what their conversations are like.” The other chuckles.

“I don’t know, Bill, but they were seen entering the venue together. As a matter of fact, I think we’ve found her.”

A camera man appears in front of me and my face gets plastered on the huge monitors above the cage. Chels drapes her arm around my shoulders, and we wave and blow kisses at the camera.

“Jim, I think this fight just might be even shorter than K.O.’s others,” Bill says.

“Why’s that?”

“Wouldn’t you want to get back to her as soon as possible?”

Ha-ha…very funny
. I roll my eyes as they laugh at my expense. While they’re announcing the first event, my phone chimes with a text from Cameron, telling me to come to his dressing room. I grab Chelsea’s hand and pull her along with me. I find him sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by seven men, all of them hurling directions at him. This Chico guy must be good for them to be so worked up. He raises his palm to quiet them and they all shut up. When he looks in my direction, so do they. They all greet me…by name. The only one I know is Mannie, but somehow they all know me.

“Come on in, ladies.” Mannie gestures us forward.

“Hi, Mannie.”

Chels and I wave to the other men in the room as we enter. Mannie places his palms at the small of our backs and makes introductions.

“That’s Carl, K.O.’s manager. Rob, his assistant.”

Aah…assistant. So
that’s
how he gets everything done!

Mannie continues, “Tony, Muay Thai trainer. Rich, boxing. Joe, physical therapy. And Dave, kickboxing.”

“Hi, everyone. Jasmine, girlfriend.” Chelsea bumps my shoulder. “This is Chelsea, best friend.”

They all chuckle, say hi, and file out of the room.

“I’ll wait for you outside, Jas,” Chels whispers.

I nod and walk over to Cameron. “Everything okay?”

He takes my hand and pulls me down onto his lap. When I wrap my arm around his shoulder, he curls his finger in the neck of my top and peers in.
Perv.

“You sure you wanna do that now?”

With a frustrated groan, he nuzzles my neck. There’s a knock at the door and one of the guys sticks his head in. It’s the manager…Carl.

“Uh…K.O., we need to take care of some business,” he says.

“I’ll wait outside,” I tell him.

I try to stand but he tightens his hold on me.
Okay…I guess I’m staying
. He motions for Carl to enter and another man follows him in, carrying a briefcase.

“Nick, this is Jasmine,” Carl introduces me to the newcomer. “Nick’s the promoter of the event.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

He takes my hand with a smile. “Nicholas Hollis, at your service…and the pleasure is all mine.”

The smile disappears when he glances over at Cameron, and he drops my hand unceremoniously. Fear is a hell of a thing. He’s not my type anyway – too short, too greasy…not Cameron. He opens his briefcase and displays the contents.
Holy
crap!
Neatly stacked hundred dollar bills stare back at me.

“As we discussed,” Nick says. “Two hundred up front, two hundred after. If you win, of course.”

I look to Cameron and his expression says ‘you better have my money’. Nick nervously clears his throat.

“Yes, well…I guess that’s it for now.” He nods and moves toward the door. Halfway there, he stops and turns back to us. “You should come by the club tonight. I’ll have the VIP set up for you. Bring your lady.”

Cameron turns to me for confirmation.

“Okay.” I shrug.

He nods to Nick.

“Great!”

I don’t miss his calculating smile as he exits, Carl following behind him with the briefcase.

“You know he’s gonna let it slip that you’ll be there, right? He’ll probably make back what he just paid you.”

He replies with an indifferent shrug. Mannie sticks his head into the room and Cameron nods to him.

“Time for me to go?” I run my fingers through his hair and stare into his eyes solemnly. “Be careful.”

With a nod, he kisses my cheek. I smirk at him as I stand.

“Don’t get my pretty face messed up.”

He smacks my ass playfully and points to the door.

“I’m going, I’m going! Bye, Mannie.”

“See ya later, honey.”

I find Chels surrounded by Cameron’s trainers. Leave it to her to flirt with four guys at once. She wiggles her fingers at them when Mannie summons them.

“’Sup, playa?” I lift my chin at her.

“Pimpin’. You know me.” She shrugs.

That’s why I love this girl. She always knows how to make me laugh.

“Let’s go, pimp.” I laugh as I grab her hand. “The fight’s about to start.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I guess he just wanted to see me before the fight.”

We make our way back to our seats just as the introductions begin. I stare at the cage nervously. I know he’s good at what he does but…anything can happen, right?

“Stop worrying. He’s gonna kick ass,” Chels assures me.

Chelsea the mind reader. I give her a grateful smile. She’s right.
Be positive, Carter
.

The arena goes dark. It’s time.

“Ladies and gentlemen…guys and girls…pimps and hoes…are you ready for the main event?” the announcer’s voice blares through the speakers.

The crowd erupts into cheers, applause, and whistles. Strobe lights flash, and an eerie song begins to play. Who
is
this guy?

“Fighting in black, with a record of fifty and one, the Latino monster, weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds…Chiiiicoooo ‘Mad Dog’ Maddennnn,” the announcer continues.

What’s with all these dog names? First Pitbull, now Mad Dog.
The volume of the music rises, and the spotlight centers on the entrance. The TV monitors come alive with the image of a dog, foaming at the mouth and barking ferociously.
Okay then
. Mad Dog steps into the spotlight, rolling his head. He’s big. Now,
he
looks like a turtle about to explode…and he looks mean. I don’t like this.

The arena lights come on and he walks slowly to the cage. Once inside, he stands in his corner and watches the entrance with a menacing glare. Chels squeezes my hand in reassurance as the lights go out again. This time, the crowd is louder. Above the cheers and whistles from the men are the screams of his female fans.
Ughhh
. Like before, the spotlight centers on the entrance and he steps into the light. This time, he’s wearing a boxer’s robe, the hood pulled over his bowed head. He pushes the hood back and zeroes in on the cage. The screams get louder.

“Look at your man!” Chels shouts. “You can safely say every woman in this room wishes they were you right now.”

I
am
looking at him…and he’s making his way toward a caged mad dog.
God, please don’t let him get hurt.
He removes his robe, hands it to Mannie, and climbs the steps to the cage. I watch as the ref explains the rules before they bump fists and walk to their corners. When the bell sounds, I hold my breath. They meet in the center of the ring, circling each other. Chico makes a few tentative punches, but Cameron moves out of the way easily. Chico becomes more aggressive, but Cameron evades all his attempts. That makes him angry. He lunges at Cameron, who’s now blocking every move. Cameron is calm, relaxed, confident…he’s got this.

Chico drops his guard and Cameron delivers a powerful uppercut which sends his opponent teetering backward. He capitalizes on that, slamming Chico to the mat. Jumping on top of him, he delivers blow after blow to Chico’s face. The crowd goes insane. The ref pulls him off and sends him to his corner. He starts the count, but Chico staggers to his feet. When the ref yells “Fight!”, Cameron comes out swinging – punching and kicking. The other man tries to protect his face, but he’s not very successful. Cameron bends his knees and punches him in the kidneys.
Damn
.
That’s got to hurt.
Chico falls against the cage, and the bell goes off. Cameron walks back to his corner and his trainers begin fussing over him. I turn my gaze to Mad Dog. He’s bleeding and his face is swollen. I don’t think I like this side of Cameron. Chelsea, on the other hand, can’t contain her excitement.

“Didn’t I tell you?” she screams.

The bell goes off again and they walk to the center of the ring. I don’t know how much more Chico can take. He throws a few punches and kicks, but they’re weak and Cameron blocks them effortlessly. He brings his elbow up and across Chico’s chin, then with his shin, swiftly lands a kick to his side. Putting his left foot forward, he spins and connects his right elbow with Chico’s head. Mad Dog falls to the mat like dead weight. The resulting noise from the crowd is deafening. The ref steps in, pushing Cameron back to his corner. My lion paces restlessly, hungrily eyeing his prey while Mannie animatedly yells instructions at him. The ref is shouting to Chico, who’s using the cage to help him to his feet. He pushes the ref aside and weaves toward Cameron, who stands with his hands at his sides, patiently waiting. He staggers forward, throws a weak punch, and Cameron catches him, holding him up. In a blur of movement, he falls backward to the mat with his legs around Chico’s waist. He brings his right leg up, placing his shin on Chico’s neck, and holds on to the man’s head with both hands. Now, the commentators are going crazy, too.

“Holy shit, the gogoplata!” one of them shouts. “He’s going for the submission!”

“If Mad Dog taps out, this will be his first submission!”

“It will be K.O.’s first submission win!”

“I think that’s the goal here…to make Mad Dog tap out!”

Now I see what he’s trying to do. He doesn’t want to just win; he wants to humiliate the other fighter – the knockout expert making the submission expert tap out. I guess that’s why he gets the big bucks. He’s putting on quite a show.

Chico looks determined, but Cameron tightens his hold until he finally gives in and taps out. He releases the broken man and jumps to his feet. Chelsea joins the crowd chanting his name as he exits the cage. I fall into my seat and expel a breath of relief. It’s over.

“That was
incredible
! I’ve never seen him fight like that before!”

“I told you he was holding back,” I reply distractedly.

“Why do you sound so bummed? He
won
.”

I watch as they help Chico out of the cage. Some victory. He didn’t get hurt, but he hurt someone. When I become a doctor, I’ll take an oath to do no harm. Guys like this will probably be my patients. And Cameron will be the one putting them in my care. Chelsea turns her head to follow my gaze.

“Oh.” She nods in understanding. “I get it. C’mon, let’s go see him.”

By the time we work through the crowd and arrive ‘backstage’, Cameron’s changed and is leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. However, he’s not alone. There’s some Latina chit fawning all over him, touching his arm, his chest, and smiling at him suggestively.
What the fuck?
He’s listening to what she’s saying, a blank, if not bored, expression on his face. He may not be encouraging her, but he’s not discouraging her, either. I forget all about the fight.