Vegas, Baby: The Complete Series by Fiona Davenport

1

Saint

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Michael St. John,” Knox, the head of security for the Lennox Hotel and Casino, greeted me with a chin lift. I rolled my eyes, and he grinned. “You ready for tonight, princess?”

I squinted at him in annoyance and grunted, “Fuck you. When have I ever been unprepared for a fight?”

Knox smirked, and I considered giving him a tap on his face...with my fist. He was deliberately trying to get under my skin. We’d known each other for years, ever since we started competing in small-time fights in our twenties. He’d gone into security, only fighting for an outlet, whereas I’d gone pro and made a name for myself as a deadly MMA champion. Between my fight salary, sponsorships, and fight night bonuses, I was the highest paid MMA fighter in the UFC this year. I could have retired as a millionaire several years ago, had even decided that if I retired, it would be in Vegas, and bought a big ass house on a horse ranch nearby. But I enjoyed the sport, and nothing else interested me, so I’d keep fighting until I had damn good reason not to.

Knox was frequently at my fights and loved to bust my chops. I gave as good as I got, but in the end, it was all just friendly bullshit. If either one of us ever needed something, the other would be right there to help. I knew I could count on Knox to bring the shovel and find a place where no one would ever find the body.

Tonight was the finals, the match that would decide who fought in the championship. I’d won the belt three years running, and this year would be no different. I was looking forward to going up against my next opponent. I knew Sam a little, and I’d followed his season. He was going to make me work for it, so it would be a fun fight.

“There something you need, Dawson?” I asked as I wrapped up one hand.

“I wanted to give you a heads-up. There’s been a change on the roster for tonight.”

My head snapped up, and I stopped what I was doing to stare at Knox. “Where’s Sam?”

Knox folded his arms over his chest as his brow furrowed. “In the hospital with a broken leg, three cracked ribs, and seven broken fingers.” His expression turned dark and suspicious. “A couple of my men found him in the garage getting the shit kicked out of him by at least six guys. They jumped in to help and managed to do some damage before the fuckers ran off like pussies.”

“Robbery?” I asked, unable to say much else because I was still reeling from the news. Sam was a big fucking guy and a straight arrow, so I assumed it had to be a robbery.

Knox shook his head. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t make sense, though. One of my men said he recognized a few of them as thugs who worked for Jimmy Benton.”

My eyebrows shot up. “The bookie?” My head automatically began to swivel from side to side, a denial rolling off my tongue. “No way. I’ve never met anyone more straitlaced than Sam.”

“I agree. But I also trust my guys. Something isn’t right here, and I’m going to look into it.”

An offer of help was on the tip of my tongue when we were joined by Drew Lennox, the co-owner of the arena, and he cut me off before I could speak. “We’ll take care of it, Saint. Focus on the fight.”

I wanted to argue, but he was right. Especially now that I was going to be up against an unknown opponent. “Who’s the replacement?”

“Vince Butler.”

“What the fuck?” I shouted, making the spectators nearest my corner jump. I ignored them as I fumed, “How the fuck did that scrawny motherfucker end up competing in the finals?” This was Vince’s first year in the UFC, and nobody had expected him to make it past his first few opponents. He was a shit fighter, but the little asshole fought dirty. Though we couldn’t prove anything, we all suspected that he’d cheated his way to the top. I’d been happy to see him take a beating in the pre-qualifiers and lose the fight. But with Sam out of the competition, it seemed he’d scored high enough to be the wild card.

Drew blew out an agitated breath and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I don’t usually put any stock in rumors, but the word is that Vince is in deep with the seedier side of town. In this instance, I’m inclined to believe it.”

Knox glared at the Octagon as though the fucker was already in there. “Watch your back, Saint. If the talk is true, he’s probably desperate, and that can make him easy pickings or very dangerous.”

The conversation was getting in my head and distracting me. Not fully concentrating on my opponent could cost me the fight or even get me injured. Knox knew that, which was probably why he took the opportunity to make another dig at me, particularly my reputation for stellar footwork. “Just be on your twinkle-toes, princess.”

“You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’, Dawson,” I growled.

Just then, Zack Parker, the owner of The Artemis, the neighboring hotel and casino, walked up to our trio. He and Drew had partnered up to build the arena between their two establishments. “Saint,” he said in greeting. “From the look on your face, I assume they’ve told you about the switch up in opponents tonight.”

I nodded and cracked my knuckles because the sound reminded me of broken bones, which Vince would have plenty of by the time I was done with him. I was about to respond when something caught my eye, and I spun around to fully face the ring.

The world around me seemed to stop with one exception. Climbing into the ring from the opposite side was the most stunning woman I’d ever seen in my thirty-five years. She was tall and slender, almost a little too thin but with just enough curves to her hips that they would be perfect for holding while I fucked her. Her tits were on the small side, but they were perfect to me. Round and perky with hard little nipples that made my mouth water. She had shoulder-length blond hair, and when she stood and her eyes swept the area around her, I almost got lost in their turquoise depths. They were unique and amazing.

As I drank in the sight of her, my mood began to plummet, and I felt my expression harden. The reason I was able to admire her so closely was because she was practically fucking naked. Her tiny black bikini top (if you could call two triangles and a piece of string a top) barely contained her tits, and the thin material made it very clear she was a little cold. The bottoms were tied at the sides, hanging low on her hips, and I was almost positive that if she moved the wrong way, the fabric would no longer cover her pussy.

Possession slammed into me, and an inferno raged inside me. No one was allowed to see her like this but me. She walked over to the referee, and he handed her large white cards with numbers on them. She was a ring girl?

“Oh, fuck no,” I snarled. I charged to the ring and swung myself up on the side before quickly climbing over the ropes. By the time I reached her, I’d pulled off my long, silver robe and threw it over her shoulders, covering what was for my eyes only.

She gasped as I tied the robe tightly closed but didn’t have a chance to say anything because I lifted her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold and marched back over to one side of the Octagon. I maneuvered us over the ropes and then jumped to the ground, easily landing on my feet. Keeping her firmly in my grasp, I stomped over to Knox and gently set her back on her feet. “Hold this for me,” I growled.