He turned around and two women—a blonde and a brunette—blocked his path. They were too classy to be ring bunnies. Had to be strippers.
Sounded like someone—likely those TGL bastards—had done their research on him.
Too bad they’d done it prematurely.
“Hey, aren’t you Con Man McConnell?” the brunette asked.
“Yep.”
The brunette hip checked the blonde. “I told you it was him!”
“We’re big fans of MMA,” the blonde said.
“Go to a lot of fights, do you?”
“All the time.”
Deacon gave them each a cool once-over. “You ladies ring girls?”
“What?” the brunette said.
Bingo. These women didn’t know shit. He locked eyes with the blonde. “‘Pour Some Sugar on Me.’”
She blinked and then rolled her hips forward. “I’ll do anything you want me to, sugar.”
“No, that was your stripper song, wasn’t it? Bet you had crystals on your tasseled pasties and your G-string. Bet you dumped water down your body and played with your nipples as you humped the pole on your knees.”
The brunette turned wide eyes on the blonde. “Misty, he’s seen your act!”
Deacon laughed. “I’ve seen lots of acts, and I see right through yours, ladies. Word of advice. MMA is one place where you can’t fake it. Real fans, fighters, and promoters will laugh you out of the room. And if you don’t want people to know you’re a former stripper? For fuck’s sake, don’t dress like one.” He stormed off and made it fifteen steps before he saw Molly.
She leaned against a pillar, her arms folded over her chest.
He erased the distance between them. He pressed his lips to hers and snaked his arm behind her to pull her close. “Where the hell have you been, babe? Goin’ crazy without you.”
“Seemed like you were making very important contacts.”
He buried his face in her neck. “You look stunning tonight. I saw you across the room in this amazing dress, and it fucking killed me that I couldn’t get to you to tell you that until now.”
“Sweet man. And what were you telling the ring bunnies?”
“Not ring bunnies. Strippers. I told them to do their research before trying to pass themselves off as MMA enthusiasts.”
She laughed. “Of course you can differentiate between normal women and strippers.” She twined her arms around his neck. “How did everything go today?”
“Training was brutal. But standing around pretending I give a damn about any of this stuff was sheer hell. I would’ve rather trained another four hours than deal with this.” Deacon didn’t mention Maddox’s meeting with the fight organizations. No reason to get his hopes up. He planted kisses up her throat. When his lips reached the corner of her mouth, he paused, letting their breath mingle, keeping her on the edge.
“Kiss me.”
“It’s not your mouth I wanna kiss right now.”
She swayed against him. “Let’s go to the room.”
“I’m playing the ‘get off, get gone’ card.”
“No,” she breathed.
“Uh-huh.”
“But that’s not fair. We haven’t had sex for almost a week! We could be fucking all night long in our luxury suite!”
“You’ll survive without my cock for another twelve hours,” he rasped against her ear. “Think of how fast and hard we’ll go at it the first time. Your skin will have friction burns.”
“Deacon.”
“Game starts now, babe.” He kissed her quickly and clasped her hand. He’d noticed a door tucked between the empty banquet rooms. If they were lucky, it’d be unlocked.
Molly’s heels made little sound as he hustled them down the hallway.
No one stopped them. He doubted anyone noticed them. Still, he forced himself to slow down. Once they reached the door, he shot a quick look up and down the hallway before he tried the knob.
Unlocked. Halleluiah.
His cock was already half hard and he willed it to stand down. But his body always reacted to the nearness of hers. Everything jumped into overdrive; his blood pumped faster, his breathing turned ragged, sweat dotted his head, neck, chest, spine, and groin.
Light from the street shone into the small space. No chair or table in here, so he’d have to improvise.
Deacon pushed her up against the door.
“What is it with you and doors?” she murmured.
“You’re right. I’ve got something much better in mind.”
“Me and my big mouth.”
“Gimme that big mouth.” Deacon curled his hand beneath her jaw, holding her in place as he kissed her with the passion he’d had locked inside all damn day.