“I was going to wait until later, but I wanted you to know now, so you realize that I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I want you to feel safe with me. I’m yours, and you’re mine. Remember? I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
She sighed and rolled her mask back down. “I do want to do this. For me. You’re just a bonus that comes with it.”
“Well then, I’ll be by your side, supporting you—and maybe giving you that pile driver you mentioned.” I wiggled my brows before rolling my mask over my face.
“You really think you love me?” She brushed her fingertips across her necklace.
“I don’t think anything. I know I do. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about anyone. I want this to work. I think we make a good team, wrestling or not.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her up and into me. “That mask I gave you isn’t just a pretty bauble. Let it remind you who I really am and how I’m doing my best to always be real—with you especially. Work … that’s another story. I’m getting there, but I’m your Phantom Man.”
She sucked in her breath as I kissed her hard. Her lips tasted of whiskey and latex.
“Show me how well you perform for a crowd, Phantom Man. Let’s start the show.”
With a little nudge from her, all of my nervousness evaporated. After I’d confessed my feelings, I felt a weight had lifted off me. I hadn’t planned on telling her how I felt so soon, but her eyes had been wide with terror, and I’d needed her to know that she was safe with me—pro wrestler Victor the Vile.
“So, what do you think so far? About the club?” she asked as we walked back toward the main room.
“I’m shocked. I thought it would be a lot sketchier. All of these people look normal, and it smells normal here too. Not like badussy.”
“Like what? Ba-da, huh?”
“Badussy. You know, booty, dick, and pussy,” I yelled over the music that grew louder and louder as we approached our stage.
She stopped in the middle of the hall, put her hand to her heart, and shook her head. “I did not just hear that. How am I supposed to get turned on when you’re talking like that?”
“I can do better. Just show me where that couch is that you don’t like. The one stuck in your brain. We’re about to make new memories on it.”
She growled, pushing me up against the wall. “Oh, yeah? I like that. I really, really like that. Let’s show everyone that I’m yours.”
“I’ll make you mine all right.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a ridiculously wide couch that might as well have been a bed. A couple had already claimed one end of it. The young woman sat, bouncing on top of a creepy, older man. Her head turned to another much younger man next to her. His dick pushed into her mouth.
Women are better at multitasking.
“Ready for our wrestling match?” I picked Samantha’s tiny frame up and body-slammed her on the couch, jostling the couple on the other end.
Their jaws dropped as I pretended to give Samantha a flying elbow drop and dived in next to her. We laughed so hard that the other couples nearby began to look our way too.
“I can’t believe we’re going to do this. Are you sure you can’t tell who I am under this mask? It covers everything, right?”
“Are you kidding me? I can barely see your face at all.” I climbed on top of her.
By this time, we had a small crowd gathering around us.
“Oh my gosh. We have an actual audience? Fuck. Don’t say my name. Come on. Let’s do this. Bring on the crazy, wild memories before I change my mind. This is awkward as hell.”
“Can I wrestle you? Are you okay with that?”
“Are we seriously role-playing now?”
“Well, we do have on Mexican wrestling masks. And no one here knows who we are. Let’s do it.”
She wrapped her hand around my neck and pushed me off of her and onto my back, climbing on top and straddling me.
“Did you just choke-slam me?” I rubbed my hands on my neck.
“Eat shit, Juan Dicko. You’re going down,” she growled before kissing me hard. Her teeth grazed my bottom lip as she gave it a rough nibble.
“Not so fast, Masked Taco!” I overpowered her and flipped her around again, taking her wrists and pinning them behind her back. I held them down with one hand and pulled my cock out with the other.
“Suicide dive in the butt!” I called out.
But she leaped up, head-butting me and knocking me backward before I knew what had happened.
“I’m okay. I got this,” I reassured the couple next to us, who peered down at me.
They stopped what they had been doing and scrambled out of the way. I slowly regained my bearings and noticed we had a circle—a ring—around us. We were in the ring.
Ding, ding, ding.
“No butt stuff.” She tackled me back down and drop-kicked me across the chest before crawling on top of me. “Camel clutch, motherfucker.” She pulled her dress up, and in one quick motion, she slipped me inside of her.
“Oh shit,” I groaned as she grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head.
I wanted to let her win, but the crowd’s energy riled me up. I lived for this sort of attention.
I let Samantha ride me hard and shit-talk me for all to hear as I planned my next move. It wasn’t easy. I tried to think of something clever, but my eyes rolled into the back of my head with each power slam she gave me.
I sat up the moment she let go of my wrists and circled my arms around her waist, rolling her to the other side of the couch. My head smashed in between her tits.
“Flapjack to the face!” I said without skipping a beat.
“Did you just call my boobs flapjacks?” She threw her head back and roared.
Uh-oh. Wrong fucking wrestling term.
She forced me back onto the bed, clambered on top of me backward, and squeezed my head between her thighs. “Scissor hold, Juan Dickhead!”
The crowd winced and groaned.
This was one position I didn’t mind being in either. I didn’t care that I could barely breathe or that her ridiculously strong thighs smothered the air out of me. She was kicking my ass, and I loved every minute of it even if I thought she could crush a watermelon with her superhuman muscles.
“Are you gonna fight back or just set up camp down there?” a voice called from the crowd.
That was it. I didn’t like to lose. My brain joined back in the game.
I pried her thighs apart and ducked my head out from between them. I wrestled her onto her stomach, flat against the cushions, and pile-drove right into her. My hips bounced against her ass while I leaned over and bit the back of her neck. She gripped the side of the couch, hanging on for dear life. I was going to win this match.
The crowd started to cheer, nudging me on. Samantha’s gears shifted as she accepted her fate and took me like a champ.
“Harder, Juan. Show them that I’m yours,” she barked back at me.
“Finish her!” a voice yelled from the back.
“Exploder suplex!” I screamed as I pinned her down and shot off inside her.
The crowd hollered, catcalled, clapped, and laughed. The show was over, and I was spent.
I collapsed beside her, panting. “Come on; let’s get out of here. This mask is going to strangle me. I can’t breathe!”