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  Knockout

  Sarah T. Ashley

  ©2015 Sarah T. Ashley

  WARNING

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY.

  Copyright © 2015

  All Rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known, hereinafter invented, without express written permission of the author. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  DISCLAIMER

  This book is a work of FICTION. Do not try any new sexual practice that you find in this book. It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. Every character in this book is over 18 years of age. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY. Enjoy.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Thank you

  Your Gifts

  Chapter 1

  Emily

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, and closed my eyes. Maybe when I opened them the numbers in the books would be different. Sadly, no, that wasn’t the case. Keeping Pop’s gym afloat was getting harder and harder, and there seemed to be no end in sight for the financial sinkhole that we were spiraling in to. Part of me just wanted to close the doors and find another path, but the thought of disappointing my father nearly killed me any time I entertained it.

  The bell over the door chimed, and all I wanted to do was look up, tell whoever it was to go away, and slink to the back for a good, ugly, self-pitying cry. But I knew I couldn’t do that. So I took a deep breath, and looked up. I nearly choked on the air I was inhaling. How had seeing a man—albeit the finest male specimen I had ever seen—make me forget how to breathe?

  The man in question swaggered over to where I was sitting behind the front desk. There was no other way to describe the way he moved. He was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders and tight, taut muscles that flexed almost menacingly as he moved. With his jaw set and his hazel eyes hooded in a way that made me tremble slightly, his sandy blond hair was the only thing that softened his look.

  I swallowed hard as the man placed both of his hands, palms down on the desk, and leaned toward me. He was one hundred percent male, and that did something to me that hadn’t happened in a long time. I could feel the quiver of desire spark deep in my stomach.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, trying hard to control the quiver of desire in my voice. Automatically I knew that the man had registered my momentary lapse, and he knew how to use it to his advantage. I knew this type of guy, and it pissed me off. How many times had I been burned by guys like him in the past? I steeled my nerves and cleared my throat.

  “I’d like to speak to the owner,” he said in a gravelly voice that sent more shivers through my body.

  I stuck my hand out. “I’m Emily Morris, owner. What can I do for you?”

  The man frowned, and stood up straighter looking around the gym. I winced as I imagined it through his eyes. The place looked pretty shabby considering that with the fancier gyms opening around us we’d seen fewer of our regular clients and more of our regular bills.

  We hadn’t been able to make any improvements in years, and most of the repairs we had done were only cosmetic. Our equipment seemed to sag under the weight of time and expectation. My father had opened this place on a dime and a dream, and it was my responsibility to keep it going. No matter what. When my dad came to check up on things he always seemed sadder when he left. I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I kept trucking along. Still, that didn’t make it any easier when a new client walked in the door, and I needed to sell him or her on our gym over the others.

  “So this is where Mickey Martin trained?” the man asked slowly as if the information that he had didn’t match the images his eyes were sending his brain.

  “Absolutely,” I said in an overly bright way that made me cringe. I toned it down when I continued, “Mickey fought for us for twelve years. Simon Carter also trained here. And Kyle Ortiz.”

  The man nodded. He turned away from me, and walked several feet from the desk. From the way his head moved back and forth, I got the feeling he was surveying the place, trying to make some decision that he wasn’t going to make me privy to.

  “And you don’t have a sponsored fighter at the moment?” he asked with his back still to me.

  Something fluttered in my chest—excitement or hope—and I had to take several deep breaths before I could answer. “Not right now.” This guy was big. His muscles practically rippled when he moved. I couldn’t get my hopes up, though. Just because the guy looked the part didn’t mean that he was a boxer. And even if he was, he might just be scouting for another gym, doing reconnaissance work. Besides that, there was something about him, something I couldn’t put my finger on, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust him or if I was just projecting my own insecurities on to him. Either way, I needed to stay calm.

  The guy turned back toward me. I could read the determination on his face as he came closer. “My name is Kirk Emerson.”

  I nodded, but stayed silent. Since I still didn’t know where this conversation was going to take me, I didn’t want to give anything away, especially my thrill at having him in my gym. Anyone involved in the boxing community had heard of Kirk Emerson. He was touted as the up and coming guy to watch in our area. I’d never had the chance to see him fight, but I knew him by reputation.

  Kirk let his gaze slide up and down my body while he waited for my response. I could actually feel the heat of his gaze. “Do you box?” he asked.

  The longer he stared at me, the more unsettled I felt. “Not really,” I said. “I train around here a little.” I shrugged. “So what can I do for you Kirk?” I really needed to get this conversation back on to a professional level.

  “I think it’s more what I can do for you,” he replied.

  I let out an annoyed huff. “What do you mean?”

  With a sudden laugh, Kirk slapped one hand onto the counter in front of me. “Don’t get all suspicious,” he said. “I’m not here to do any damage.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I regarded him. I wondered what exactly he was referring to because I knew it wasn’t what I was thinking. Something in his demeanor bothered me. He was overly cocky like most of the boxers who came through, but there was something more dangerous about him that I couldn’t put my finger on.

  “I think I have a way to help you gym.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m listenin
g.”

  Chapter 2

  Kirk

  I cracked my knuckles as I tried not to stare at Emily’s cleavage. She was wearing a tank top that scooped dangerously low over her breasts. It was distracting me from the real purpose of my visit.

  “How can you help my gym?” she asked. From the look on her face, I could tell she was annoyed with me, but I couldn’t remember why.

  “I can help by giving you me,” I said, bestowing my best smile on her.

  She frowned. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t think you giving yourself to me is going to help my gym.”

  I stared at her like she was an idiot just to see the flush of angry red come in to her cheeks. She was gorgeous when she was pissed off.

  “You could be my sponsor. I mean, your gym could sponsor me.”

  “Don’t you already have a gym?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Well, that’s an interesting story,” I said, running a hand over my short hair. I’d just had it cut, and it still felt like fuzz to me. I hated this stage. Tough was my image, but there were a few things that didn’t make me feel so tough.

  “Tell me about it,” she said in a firm voice as she crossed her arms over her chest. The gesture pushed her breasts up, and it felt like she was just taunting me. I let my eyes roam over her body again. She wasn’t a stick, but she was trim and fit. From the definition in her arms, I would put money on the fact that she boxed more than she was letting on. Even if she was only training on her own after the gym closed, I admired her for doing it.

  With a short sigh, I said, “It’s actually pretty cut and dry. I used to train at Sal’s on Riverside, but they got shut down when someone alerted the authorities that Sal was distributing steroids on the side. Now I’ve got no gym, and you’ve got no sponsored fighter. Seems like a match made in heaven, don’t you agree?”

  Emily frowned. I wanted to do something to make her stop doing that. I had a feeling that she’d be a lot prettier if she smiled once in a while. “I don’t take on anyone who does ‘roids,” she said.

  “You think I do steroids? Sweetheart, if you saw me fight just one time, you’d know that this is all me,” I said as I stepped back so she could get a good look at me. Despite the fact that she rolled her eyes, she let her gaze drift up and down my body. The heat from her look made me shift as a shot of lust went straight to my cock at lightning speed.

  “So, let’s say that I do agree to take you on, what can you really bring to this gym?” she asked.

  “Well, myself,” I said, puffing up my chest. I wondered what she was missing about this equation. Her gym was basically falling apart. The training ring that dominated the space was sagging, and all of her equipment looked outdated. If I hadn’t been desperate, given my former gym’s reputation, I didn’t know whether or not I would have even considered this place.

  Emily didn’t seem to know what she needed, though, and that was probably why her business was one disaster away from closing forever. She needed a sponsored fighter, and I was the best of the best. If I was here, that would drive in business, problem solved. What wasn’t she getting about this proposal? “Clearly you need me.”

  I watched as Emily’s face clouded with something that seemed close to rage. I might have been mistaken, it could have been passion. Smirking at the thought, I noticed that Emily’s frown had tightened.

  “I’m not an idiot,” she said. “I know that this place is kind of shabby, but if we’re going to sponsor someone I need it to at least vet the person. I’ve never seen you fight. How do I know that you’re anything that you claim to be?”

  “Well, come to my next fight. Then you’ll be able to see that I’m the best of the best.” I actually felt a glimmer of doubt as I waited for her to answer. She wasn’t like most of the women I met, who were instantly ready to jump me. And the fact that she seemed put off by me made me want to pursue her even more.

  “I don’t know,” she said, but I could tell she was thinking about it. She was chewing on her lower lip in a way that turned me on. I tried to shake the image of her naked, writhing in pleasure beneath me, from my mind. “Okay. I’ll come.”

  “No doubt about that,” I said under my breath.

  “What was that?” she asked with a sharpness in her voice that made me smile. I knew she’d heard me.

  “Nothing. I just knew you wouldn’t be able to resist seeing me in action,” I said.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, and moved so that the desk was between us. As she rummaged around in a drawer, she said, “Give me the address and time of the fight. I’ll come check it out. If I like what I see, then we can talk about sponsorship.”

  I took the paper and pen that she offered me, and leaned over the desk to write. The move brought us closer. I said, “You’ll like what you see. I guarantee it.”

  Chapter 3

  Emily

  I looked at the address in my hand again, and stared suspiciously at my GPS. The first time it told me to take a turn into the seedy part of town, I complied because I knew that sometimes fights took place in the older warehouses down by the docks. Some of the fancier gyms had rehabbed those buildings with the intent of turning them into first class arenas.

  The second turn took me into a yet to be gentrified area, and I just knew at that moment that Kirk wasn’t the kind of prize fighter I was looking for. He’d invited me to an illegal, bare knuckle fight. I should have just turned around and gone home. And yet…part of me wanted to see him in action. He was so feral, like a wild animal. He exuded tension. It had been all I could do when he was in the gym to keep my eyes off his throbbing muscles. He seemed coiled like a snake ready to strike. In a fighter that could be a potent characteristic. If only he was legit, then he would have been right and all of the gym’s problems would be solved.

  When I finally found the building that the fight was in, I grabbed my pepper spray from my glove box just in case. Sure, I knew how to fight—I had since I was old enough to walk—but I couldn’t fight in the heels I’d worn.

  If I was honest with myself, I’d have had to admit that I’d gone the sexy route instead of professional. From the way Kirk looked at me, I knew he wanted me. I was a healthy young woman with needs. There was no shame in wanting him too. I just didn’t want him to know that. My dad had never had problems like this when he was running the gym, mainly because he was a guy working with guys. Most of the older guys who still frequented the gym had been friends’ of Pop’s, so they had a protective air toward me. Kirk didn’t conform to those parameters obviously.

  I knocked on a large steel door, and it creaked open. A hand gestured for me to step inside. “Were you followed?” a gruff voice asked me. I tensed, my fingers curling around the pepper spray.

  “No,” I replied. “I’m here to watch Kirk—“

  “No names,” the faceless man said. He lurked in the shadows. “I’ll walk you down the hall. The fight is in twenty minutes. The guys competing are still getting ready.”

  I wanted to ask him what kind of fight this was, but I knew better than that now. I assumed that because of it’s sketchy legality, it was a bare knuckle fight. If that was the very likely case, there was no way I wanted Kirk representing our gym. And yet, I parked my butt on the bottom bleacher closest to the ring. While I waited, I glanced at the crowd gathering around me.

  Mostly men seemed to be attending the fight, but the few women who had gathered were all dressed more for a strip club than a legitimate boxing match. Their presence only served to confirm. Their presence only served to confirm the illegal nature of what I was about to witness.

  My younger self would have been excited to be part of something like this, complete with the clandestine location, the nearly secret knock, and the bouncer who served as sentry. All that had changed when I’d inherited my dad’s gym. Since then it my life had been an impossible balance of trying to keep the gym afloat, not disappoint my dad, and not lose myself in all of it.

  The thin
g was, I loved the gym. I always had. After my mom left us when I was five, Pop would spend all of his spare time at the gym, always bringing me along. I would show up there after school the way other kids went to daycare programs. I knew all the regulars, and some of the coaches had outfitted me with my own mini set of boxing gloves. I would hammer away at the practice dummies for hours. My dad always boasted that I had a head start in life because I hadn’t grown up sitting in front of a television set. I wasn’t sure I completely agreed with him, but I never regretted the way I was raised.

  The thing that had excited me so much when Kirk walked through the door of the gym was that he had reminded me of our prize fighters from the past. He had the muscles. He had the swagger. He had the bravado. And if my hunch was correct, he’d be a spectacular fighter as well. That combination was exactly what you wanted in a winning boxer. And the gym could certainly use a winner.

  My only concern with Kirk was how much he turned me on. If he wasn’t a good guy, and this fight tonight was indicative of his character, then I was screwed. Part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind, and just jump into bed with him. That would get any sexual tension out of the way, and I could focus on rebuilding my failing business.

  I was so lost in thought that I jumped when the announcer got up to declare the start of the match.

  Chapter 4

  Kirk

  My manager, Martin, wouldn’t leave me alone before the match was set to start. Usually I tried to focus my head, empty my thoughts, all the Zen bullshit my ex-girlfriend, Lotus, had taught me to do. She hadn’t had a lot going on in her head but she had a tight ass.

  “Tell me about the new gym,” he wheedled as I cracked my knuckles and shook out my tense muscles. “Do you think that they’ll sponsor you? If they do you’d finally have a shot to do some legitimate fights.”