Wrecked by Priscilla West Read Free Book Online Page A

little I could see, it was
clear each had ripped abs and sculpted pecs like they were carved by a
sculptor. The one in blue particularly caught my attention. He was bouncing on
his toes and shaking his arms to stay loose and to keep himself warmed up for
the fight. Each bounce sent ripples through his hard muscles, which in turn
made my own heart bounce. A surge of desire through my body made me realize how
affected I was just by the sight of him. I was unwittingly reminded of Tattoos
and Muscles, except I couldn’t tell if this guy had any tattoos underneath his
hoodie. Tim had a gorgeous bod but I don’t think he could compete with blue
trunks.
    “On my
left, standing at six feet, two inches and weighing in at two hundred pounds of
pure, raw muscle. Don’t let his friendly face fool you, he’ll squeeze the life
out of you if he gets you in his hold. We’ve got Abram ‘Mr. Hyde’ Wallace!”
    The crowd
cheered for the man in red trunks. Abram hopped around, shadow-boxing the air,
displaying his quick fists and dexterous footwork. I squinted, trying to get a
view of his face but I couldn’t see much beneath the hood. I could see his
smile though; it was wide and showcased neat rows of white teeth, which made it
seem like he was just happy to be here.
    “And on my
right, standing also at a height of six feet, two inches and weighing two
hundred and five pounds with fists of steel, it’s your defending champion,
Hunter ‘The Hammer’ Jensen!”
    The crowd
erupted once again but louder than they did for Abram. I heard a girl cry out,
“I love you Hunter!”
    Hunter
didn’t make as much of a show as Abram. He simply continued shaking out his
limbs and bouncing on his toes. Although his head was down seemingly in deep
focus, he seemed to be soaking in the cheers, absorbing the crowd’s energy to
channel later in the fight.
    “It’s
exciting isn’t it?” a male voice said next to me.
    I turned
to see a tall guy around my age with a smooth head standing beside me. He had
hard, chiseled features that complemented the defined muscles stretching
against his t-shirt and jeans. I wasn’t really a fan of bald guys, but this
dude was quite attractive. A quick scan of his build and I wondered why he
wasn’t in the cage himself. He had a smile on his face that looked friendly.
    “Yeah,
I’ve never seen this before,” I responded. “What kind of fighting is this?”
    He
chuckled. “So you’re not a devoted fan of Hunter, apparently. It’s mixed
martial arts. Punching, kicking, wrestling—pretty much anything goes except for
biting, crotch shots, and eye gouging.”
    I narrowed
my eyes. “That sounds brutal.”
    “It’s
exciting to watch for sure. And it’s not too bad for the fighters when it comes
to safety. Probably no more dangerous than playing professional football or
doing boxing. I’d even say it’s safer than boxing.”
    Curious, I
asked, “How can it be safer when you can do much more than punching?”
    He
shrugged. “Some fighters win through holds and submissions. Usually the guy in
the submission just taps out before he gets really hurt.” He pointed to red
trunks. “Abram’s strength is in his submissions; he has a wrestling background.
As for striking—” He pointed to blue trunks. “Hunter’s strength is his stand-up
game. He throws a mean punch, which is why he earned the name ‘The Hammer’. But
the refs tend to stop matches before fighters get seriously hurt. There’s no
ten count that allows a fighter to get back up and continue fighting again
after a mild concussion. Once someone goes down after a good punch, the ref
pretty much always ends the fight.”
    “Wow, you
know a lot about this.”
    He
grinned. “Name’s Gary.” He extended his large hand.
    I took it and
he shook firmly. “Lorrie.”
    His grin
widened. “Well Lorrie, all I got to say is you’re in for a treat if this is
your first time watching this.”
    “Is this
like a sanctioned event or something? Why are