Avenging Angel (Pounding Hearts 5)

An evil grin spreads across his face as he says, “Probably both. I’ll have Casey come over when he gets here. If Puking Beauty makes it out of the bathroom, I’ll send her over to the bags to get warmed up.”

“Fucking dick,” I laugh as I walk away from him.

Dale doesn’t feel like he’s doing his job unless someone pukes. He loves to make the fighters work and work hard.

“Just because you guys aren’t working out today doesn’t mean you get to sit and play grab ass. You, Bear, Brett, and the others will be working,” Dale says to my back before I hear him start to yell at some poor soul.

We’re not working out today? I’m not planning on working out anytime in the near fucking future either. This is a one-time fucking gig.

Heading for the fighters, I have to pass by Bree.

Shit.

With the fucking whirlwind of pain and emotions this place brings, her damn smile keeps entering my head, making me feel like I’m getting slugged in the lower part of my gut.

And it’s not in a bad way.

Fuck. This is probably what a lack of alcohol is going to do to me. Reduce me to a drooling idiot.

But one look at her and I don’t know if I mind it.

She’s fucking beautiful, a

nd not in the typical way I’ve come to see in the women around Vegas. She’s naturally sexy and doesn’t look she’s had any fucking work done on her. Her makeup is minimal, and her clothes are for comfort, not show. Her pale blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes are showstoppers, and those plush fucking pink lips look so damn kissable.

How the fuck did Chase get her to work here? I mean, this place is definitely on the map as a world class gym/MMA facility, but she’s a cut above every woman I’ve ever seen. She’s also noticeably not a gym monkey, she’s not all lean and hard. No, she’s got the curves of a woman who takes care of herself but doesn’t break herself to do it.

And now she’s looking at me as I walk past.

Fuck.

“Hey, how’s the front desk treating you?” I ask as I slow down.

“Good, at least for my first day. It’s been… interesting,” she says with a quirk of those damnable lips.

Kissing her is surely a sin.

Nodding my head, I ask, “Everyone treating you okay?”

Laughing quietly, she nods her head. “I’m pretty sure Chase petrifies everyone enough to keep them from being mean.”

“Eh, he’s a big pussy cat,” I say with a grin.

Shaking her head, her smile widens to show her teeth, and damn if it doesn’t make her even more intoxicating.

“Pussy cat, huh?” Brett, the fucker, says from behind me.

Sighing and putting my head down for a moment so I don’t show my lack of timing, I turn to look at Brett.

He’s wearing a bright pink shirt that matches his wife Mandy’s.

His says: I Bring The Pain. And hers says: I’m A Pain.

“What’s going on, Brett?” I ask.

“Not much. Was wanting to introduce Mandy to the Pussy Cat’s sister, Bree,” Brett says.

When the couple walks past me, Brett turns for the briefest of moments to give me a wink and smirk.