Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel (6 page)

“I’m sure that’s what you were doing.” He jerks his head back, letting her know it’s time for her to leave.

“All right, then,” she says, inching toward the exit. “I’ll see you guys back at the gym. Congrats again, Cutter.”

“Thanks,” I mutter as I grab my bag. “Ready?” I ask, looking at Garrett.

“Not nearly as ready as you, obviously. Let’s go, Casanova. There’s a party in your honor.” Waving his arm wide, he lets me slide past him and teases me the rest of the way down the hall and even after we’re in the car and driving down the road.

The gym looks so different at night, but with it packed full of people and dance music blaring, it’s almost a totally different place. Weaving through the throng of swaying bodies, I beeline straight for Rian as soon as I find her in the crowd.

“Looks great, Rian. How’d you pull this together so fast? It’s not even been an hour.”

“Because I’m a fucking rock star. And I knew you’d win before the bell even rang. I’m good at calling them before I see them,” she jokes, handing me a cup filled with punch.

“What’s this?” I ask, sniffing the concoction. It smells like strawberry lemonade, so I risk a drink. The cool liquid hits my taste buds and they cry out for more. “This is delicious.” Nearly finishing the entire cup in the first swallow, I push it back toward her for a refill.

“Slow down there, champ. There’s an entire fifth in this jug even if you can’t taste it,” she warns, giving me seconds.

“Dangerous.” I sigh, drinking this one slower, and pacing myself for the rest of the evening.

In the corner of my eye, Josette pops into view, swaying seductively to the song playing. A few guys step toward her, but she gives them polite smiles and ushers them along. A pack of fighters stands in the opposite corner watching her, damn near drooling over her sensual movements. If I didn’t want her so damn bad, I’d think it was comical.

Her eyes land on me and we have our own silent conversation.

What about that surprise?

Oh, you did win, didn’t you?

No more teasing.

I’ve never teased. Except that one time.

Can I have my gift?

Upstairs?

I nod and walk to the side exit, avoiding Garrett, Rian, and the rest of the people who keep trying to draw me into conversation about my win. I know this party’s a celebration for me, but there’s only one person I want to finish the night off with, and she’s quickly walking toward the same exit.

We don’t even make it through the apartment door before my hands and lips are on her. Without an ounce of resistance, I pick Josette up by the backs of her thighs and carry her into the bedroom. Setting her down at the foot of the bed, I watch her remove every ounce of clothing except for a pair of light pink lacy underwear and the highest damn heels I’ve ever seen a woman wear.

“Surprise,” she whispers huskily.

Climbing on top of Josette, I nestle between her thighs and devour her mouth. I’ve never known just kissing to be this sexy, but each time her breath hitches or her legs tighten around my middle, my cock twitches and the only thing I can think of is being buried inside her. Josette is never like anything I’ve ever had before. She’s the constant exception to the rule.

“We’re still not weird, right? Not falling in love with me or anything, are you?” she asks between pants. Understanding completely what she means—wanting our relationship to stay the same way it’s been, carefree and easy—I nod my head and move my lips down her jaw onto her neck.

All of a sudden, I get nervous. Josette’s fucking hot; there’s no doubt in my mind she’s had her fair share of guys and has far more experience than me. Marianne and I were both virgins, so it wasn’t like I had something to live up to. A hundred questions start rapid-firing when I should be concentrating on Josette.

Does she really enjoy having sex with me? Am I better than her other partners? Is she falling in love with me? Do we love each other? Did I fuck up and fall in love with her? What would happen if I did? Would she stop talking to me?

“Dammit,” I accidentally whisper out loud, and Josette pushes up on her elbows.

“What’s wrong?” she asks with a flushed face and swollen lips.

“Nothing,” I lie, and move down past her tits but not quite to her underwear.

“Nope. You’re a fucking liar. Honesty, dude. That’s the only way this works.” She pushes me off her and I flop onto the bed next to her, burying my embarrassed face in the pillow.

“Are you falling madly in love with me, Cutter?”

“No,” I defensively respond. “You’re my best friend, so of course I love you,” I correct. “But not love you love you, I don’t think.” I’m even more embarrassed than before.

“Oh, get your shit together. Just remember, my tits are super small, and I feel like you’re a breast man. Keep that in mind and you won’t love me, it’s impossible,” she jokes, and then starts running her hand down her body. “This pussy’s not gonna fuck itself. Do I have to take matters into my own hands again?” I risk a glance down at her breasts as she makes her way past them to her stomach. I will admit, in the shirt she was wearing earlier, they appeared much larger, but even without any enhancements, they’re more than a handful. A light pink, small puckered nipple situated on a perfect fucking tit. Dammit. This isn’t helping.

Having had enough of my own bullshit, I roll toward her and pull her to me. Pushing my hand into her hair, I grip a handful and draw her closer, her lips barely touching mine. “Your tits are perfect, Jo. You’re perfect.”

“Don’t go there, Cutter. You know what happens if you go there.” Now I’ve had enough of
her
shit. Taking her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, I expertly roll it between them and nuzzle my face in the crook of her neck.

“I’d like to get back to the fun part, if that’s okay with you, Jo.”

“Okay,” she breathes, then pulls my head up and presses her lips to mine. No longer urgent and clumsy, the kiss is full of passion and need. Sucking her bottom lip between my teeth, I bite softly and she lets out the sexiest mewl.

I need to stop thinking she’s this…I don’t know what, but I have to remember she’s my best friend. She’s Josette. She’s brutally honest and doesn’t bullshit. All of those unanswered questions drift out of my mind, and I know that if there was something she wanted from me, something she wanted me to stop doing or needed more of than what I give her, she’d flat-out tell me. And she wouldn’t be passive-aggressive about it either.

Pushing her back, I position myself on top of her again, this time with a newfound confidence. Kissing down her neck until I reach her tits, I then tease one nipple with my tongue and the other with my fingers. Josette arches her back toward me, her body begging me to keep going. Continuing my path, I rest my lips between both breasts then rake my tongue down an imaginary line, past her belly button straight to the lace of her panties.

“Take ’em off,” I demand, backing off the bed and never taking my eyes from her. While she removes the thin fabric, I pull my shirt over my head and divest myself of my shorts and sweats. Josette leans forward on her elbows, the panties lying on the floor next to my clothes, and she intently watches me stroke myself.

I kneel on the edge of the bed and she slowly and sensually lets her knees fall to the side, exposing herself to me. Hand to God, I have to bite the inside of my cheek so hard I nearly draw blood just to keep from coming all over my damn self like a fucking fourteen-year-old. She’s fucking gorgeous all spread out on my bed, waiting for me. The little minx innocently smiles as she runs her hand down her stomach and through the small, trimmed patch of hair, then dips two fingers inside. I’m starting to think she gets a kick out of this.

“Christ,” I groan, watching Josette bring her wetness up and run those same fingers around her clit in small circular motions. With each revolution, her breathing quickens until her head lolls back and a soft moan escapes her lips. I could watch Josette pleasure herself all day long and never get tired of it, except I’m insanely jealous of those fingers. I want her cries and moans to be mine.

Wanting to capitalize on the high she’s riding, I crawl up to her, push away her hand and position myself, thrusting quickly with her walls still quaking. Josette’s mouth opens and proves she’s exactly who I thought she was.

“There he is, ladies and gentlemen. Here I was thinking I’d have to do it all on my own. Thanks for joining the party,” she teases. Pulling back, almost exiting her, I thrust much harder than I did before and still, wanting to both give her a smartass comeback and will my dick not to explode.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you have something to say?”

“Yeah. Pick up the pace, or I’m gonna get myself off…again.”

“Ya know, for being a pint-sized little shit, you got a mouth on you.”

“That’s why I’m your best friend,” she says seductively, grabbing my hand and putting my thumb in her mouth, sucking like a fucking goddess.

Retracting my hand, I shove it between our bodies and begin manipulating her clit. “Thanks for getting it wet for me. Saved me the trouble.” I give her a quick wink and begin grinding my hips into hers, remembering a few tricks I learned from my porn-watching days as a teenager.

Her arms loop behind mine and her hands grip onto my shoulders. It’s not long before the familiar tingle starts low in my balls and I know we’re working on borrowed time. Josette meets me thrust for thrust and thankfully her orgasm starts brewing. Pulling my hand from between our bodies, I loop my arms much like hers and use her shoulders for leverage as I pour every ounce of myself into the last lap, sprinting to the finish.

“God, yes!” she screams in my ear, and her pussy strangles the life out of my dick.

“Got one more in ya?” I ask, not even sure if I can deliver.

“Just shut the hell up and fuck me, Cutter,” she demands, and I slam into her harder and quicker. Maybe a dozen strokes later, we’re both exploding. I’m pretty sure I black out for a quick second, somewhere between her screaming a never-ending stream of swear words and her legs limply falling to the side, no longer cradling my hips.

Completely spent, I slip into the spot next to Josette and lie on my back staring at the ceiling. Out of nowhere, Josette’s hand appears above my face and just stays there.

“What the hell are you doing?” I laugh.

“High five, dude. Come on. Give it to me.”

“You’ve lost your mind.” I chuckle and shake my head.

“I swear, if you don’t give me some, I’m never showing you my boobs again.”

“Fine,” I huff, weakly hitting her palm.

“Stop being a bitch. I know you can hit harder than that.”

I whip my head in her direction and she’s waggling her eyebrows like a weirdo.

“Touché,” I respond, giving her a proper high five.

Laughing, she sits up, pulls one of my shirts over her head, and walks to the bathroom. A few moments later, she emerges and grabs her clothes from the floor.

“What are you doing? We don’t have to go back to the party. I’m tired as fuck. Come to bed.” Yanking back a corner of the blanket, I open a space for her to lie next to me.

“Go on to sleep. It’s finals week and I’ve gotta be on campus by nine tomorrow. Talk to you later?” She quickly dresses, crawls up the bed, and gives me a peck on the corner of my mouth.

“Jo?”

“Nope. Friends don’t have awkward conversations after orgasms. It’s not a thing.” I stare at her, confused and relieved at the same time. Most of all, I’m shocked. Usually, it’s women that say no commitment but are quick to jump on the let-me-stay-over-and-cuddle train. I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but not feeling the pressure that comes along with sex is perfect.

“Just two friends playing zombies,” I joke.

“Motherfucking zombies.” She giggles as she leaves the room. “Call you later,” she calls from the front door just before it opens and closes.

Realizing I smell like sweat and sex, I decide on a quick shower before bed. Less than five minutes in and out, I climb back into the bed. I grab the pillow and shove it under my head, Josette’s scent still present, and allow my sore and sated body to rest long enough to pass out.

Two months and three fights later, the calls start rolling in. Every manager and agent in the business wants to take their crack at me for some reason. Garrett says it’s unusual for them to start calling before a fighter hits more than a dozen consecutive wins, but then backed that up by mentioning my raw talent.

I’ve also made a decent amount of money from the four fights I’ve won. More than enough to pay Garrett rent on the apartment for the next year and stop doing the janitorial work at the gym so I can train full-time. He tried to give me back the check, but lost the battle when Rian said that I needed to pay my way to feel like a man, and she was 100 percent right.

“Cutter, another one just left a message. What do you want me to start telling them?” Josette asks from the office, glancing between me and Garrett.

“I don’t know. Garrett? What do I do?”

“Do you wanna fight professionally, kid?”

“It could be cool, right? Be on TV and have bigger purses. I mean, what else am I going to do? Keep fighting at local level? If they want me, I should capitalize on it before I’m old news, right?”

Garrett doesn’t answer and Josette rolls her eyes, either at me or the phone that’s ringing again. She steps back into the office and within a few seconds I know it’s another person calling to inquire about me.

“It’s not a bad way to earn a living,” Garrett finally chimes in. “But it’s not a career. You know that. You might have ten or twelve years in you, but what are you going to do after that? There’s no way you’ll be able to go back to mopping floors and taking out trash after you’ve made the kind of money those fighters earn. You have to have a backup plan.”

“I have one,” I answer, feeling a foreign sense of pride surge through my veins. “I was waiting for Josette to finish her class a few weeks ago and made my way over to the admissions office. I talked to someone about taking some courses and am thinking of signing up for a few.”

“You’re going to college and didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was really a big deal. I have no idea what I want to do with my life, but I figure business classes can’t be bad, right? I’m either going to work for someone else’s business or work for myself, and I probably should know how to do that.”

“I knew I liked you, kid.” Garrett laughs and pats me on the back. “I’m proud of you. Either way, you’re gonna be just fine.”

And just like that, I know his words are true. I’ve gone through hell and come out the other side. My life has prepped me for this. Before, I would have never had the confidence to try anything new or want more for myself. I didn’t think I deserved it. It took finding myself in this gym, meeting these people, and having them cheer for me even when they had no reason to give me the courage to make something out of myself, and I’ll never be able to thank them enough.

“Josette,” I yell, and she peeks her head out of the office, holding the phone to her ear.

“I’m gonna need those messages. Time for me to pick an agent.”

“To Cutter. The next big thing in professional MMA fighting,” Garrett says, raising a glass and proudly smiling in my direction.

“Cutter,” everyone else cheers in unison. Following suit, I raise my own glass and toss back the amber whiskey, letting it burn down my throat into my nervous stomach.

Over the last two weeks I’ve met with everyone who’s anyone in management, and finally decided on Max Irvine, the self-proclaimed best manager in the history of the UFC. I’m not sure if that’s the case, but hearing him name-drop some of the biggest names in the industry is enough for me to sign a one-year contract with him.

While everyone mills around the bar, I grab a stool next to Garrett and order us another round. “So, this Max guy thinks it would be best if I went to Vegas for a while. The UFC has some training facility there, and it would be my best bet to get seen sparring with some of the heavy hitters if I want a chance at a real fight.”

“That’s a big decision, kid. How are you feeling about it?”

“I think it’s probably best if this is what I’m going to do, you know? I can stay in town and do little fights here, but I really want to make my name known. Maybe moving for a while is the best way to do it.”

“Moving where?” Josette asks with pure attitude, death stare and hand on the hip included. Rubbing my hand over my face, I wish I’d waited to talk to Garrett somewhere more private. Josette’s opinion means a lot to me, but I can’t have her influencing my decision. I need to make this choice for myself.

“Vegas,” I mutter, and glance at Garrett, who’s grabbing his drink and moving to another table. “It’s just an idea, Jo. I haven’t made any decisions yet.”

“Sounds like you’re pretty decided to me. So, what, you were just gonna pack up and leave without talking to me? You’re my best friend, and you say I’m yours, but you don’t come to talk to me about this? God, you irritate me sometimes,” she says in a huff, and walks away.

Taking my drink to Garrett’s new table and sitting down, I fold my arms in front of me and burrow my head inside them.

“Woman troubles?” Garrett asks, and I glance up to see a knowing smirk on his face.

“Something like that,” I mumble.

“We’ll figure it out, kid,” Garrett says, standing and putting his hand on my shoulder. “Nothing needs to be determined now. Weigh all your options. I’m behind you no matter what you decide.”

I’ll never understand how a perfect stranger is able to give me more respect and love than my own mother. Oh well, we can’t have it all, right? I’ve got a dead dad and a poor excuse for a mother, but I’ve also got my new family here. They’re the best anyone could ask for. If someone had told me breaking into this gym and sleeping under the ring would bring so many wonderful people into my life and give me a shot at making dreams I didn’t even know I had a reality, I would have called them a liar.

Good thing I’m not the betting kind.

I’ve spent the last hour looking for Josette in every nook and cranny of this bar with no luck. I tried her cell, but it went right to voicemail. Instead of waiting until tomorrow to talk to her, I thank everyone for coming, pay my tab, and call a cab to take me straight to Josette’s house.

We’re gonna hash this out tonight. I understand why she’s upset and she needs to understand why I’m considering the move. Most people spend their entire lives waiting for the breaks I’m being offered and never get them. I’d be a damn fool to pass this up. I’d be a moron not to consider all my options. And if she’s my best friend like she says, she should understand and want nothing but the best for me, just as I do for her.

When I bang on the door, it’s answered by a furious Josette. “Can I help you?” she asks in a sardonic tone.

“Be happy for me, Jo. Please,” I beg. Not waiting for her to invite me inside, I push my way past her and head to her bedroom, giving her no time to argue.

“I’m not
not
happy for you, Cutter. But I’m pissed. I know I’m not your girlfriend or anything, but a little heads-up would have been nice.”

I sit on the edge of her bed and pat the spot on the mattress next to me. She accepts my invitation, and once she’s seated, she lays her head on my shoulder. “You’re going to go off, get super famous, and forget all about your friends here.”

“I’d never forget you, babe.” I place a soft kiss on top of her hair. “You’re my person.”

“I’m having a hard time believing you. Fame changes people. Right now, it’s all cute to say you’ll never forget where you came from, but what happens when you have more money than you know what to do with, women throwing themselves at you like crazy, and a life bigger than you could have dreamed? Why would you ever want to come back here and remind yourself of all the baggage you left behind when it’s easier to forget?”

“Because you’re here. And Garrett and Rian. You guys are home. I’m not everyone, Jo. I’m the guy that’s gonna get rich and buy a giant pickup truck instead of a sports car. And I’ll look for a girl who’s half the woman you are, and not just one who’ll look pretty on my arm. Plus, if I ever do find her, she’s going to have to pass the Josette Morelli test. I know how you Italians get. She’s gonna be in a world of trouble.”

“Cutter?”

“Hmmm?” Falling back, I pull Josette with me and open my arms for her to lie on my chest.

“What if I don’t want you to find another girl?”

My heart leaps into my throat. How does one simple sentence have me questioning everything I’ve thought about our arrangement? I don’t have any idea where she’s going with this, but everything in me wants her to say it’s because she wants me. God help me, I want her, too. I’m pretty sure I always have.

“Then you’ll have to be mine,” I answer, praying I’m on the same track as she is and that I’m not screwing up the closest relationship I’ve ever had.

“I wouldn’t go to Vegas with you. I’d stay here and finish my degree. Would that be okay with you? Do you think if we were together even though we were apart, you’d be able to keep it in your pants?”

“Do you want to be together?” I need to see her face. I can’t do this without looking into her eyes to make sure this is what she wants and not some halfhearted attempt to get me to change my mind. I need to read her soul. I roll on my side and she does the same so we’re facing each other. I run my fingers through the little bit of hair that’s fallen across her forehead. “Do you want to try this?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. All I do know is I don’t want to be without you. You’re the kind of guy I should be jumping at the chance to date, but I’m scared. We’re so good like this. What if we can’t recover from a bad breakup and I lose my best friend? What if we screw it all up?”

“What if we don’t? What if we have the kind of relationship they write stories and make movies about? What if this is it for both of us, and we’re too stupid to see what’s right in front of us? What if we were made for each other?”

“Wait a second, Cutter Greer. Have you been a closet romantic this entire time?”

“And if I have?”

“Then I’d have to say you’re right. We probably were made for each other.”

“Okay, one more sappy thing and then I’m going to rip off your clothes and do all kinds of things that aren’t the most romantic but are sexy as hell. I wanna try. See if we can make a go of this. Me and you. You in?”

“That was the furthest thing from romantic, dude.” She laughs and leans in to kiss me. Just as her lips are about to connect with mine, she whispers, “I’m all in.”

Then I rip off her clothes and make good on my promise.