In for the Win Read online




  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  In for the Win

  An Against the Cage Novel

  Melynda Price

  Copyright © 2017 by Melynda Price

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product 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.

  All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Edited by Karen Sanders Editing

  Cover Design by JC Clarke at The Graphics Shed

  Melynda Price

  Contact: [email protected]

  www.melyndaprice.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon!

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Melynda Price

  Chapter One

  As far as bad ideas went, Kyle certainly had his fair share of them. But this one? Wingman for Nikko “The Bull” Del Toro? Not so terrible, until he realized the guy was trying to hook-up with Violet Summers—his goddamn shrink. This was officially the Worst. Idea. Ever. Not only that, but Kyle was pretty confident that if Coach found out what they were up to, he’d be getting benched right beside this poor decision-making bastard who seemed to have as little regard for Kyle’s MMA career as his own.

  So then why was he still sitting here, putting his ass on the line for this guy? Excellent question. Morbid curiosity, perhaps? Oh, and the smokin’ hot date Del Toro had set him up with. The only catch? She thought she was here to hook up with Del Toro, so that was awkward as hell. The whole thing was a clusterfuck of comedic proportions. If he was smart, he’d shit-can the whole night, but Kyle was a sucker for punishment and his friend was nothing if not persistent.

  Much like watching a train wreck in slow motion, Kyle just couldn’t seem to look away from the disastrous shit-show about to go down as he watched his “date” drag Nikko onto the dance floor and then Velcro herself to the fighter who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but out there.

  Maybe it was insensitive, but Kyle couldn’t stop the burst of laughter from erupting in his chest. Though it quickly died when his gaze cut to Violet. She looked like she was about to puke as she watched the happy couple two-steppin’ it on the dance floor. That lady had a lot of Bacardi flowing through her veins, and Kyle was starting to wonder if her latest drink wouldn’t end up in his lap before the night was over.

  “You all right there, doc? You’ve had an awful lot to drink. If you don’t mind me saying, you’ve the pallor of someone who’s about to blow chunks.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, keeping her gaze locked on Nikko and Kyle’s date.

  This woman was definitely not fine. “Can I go get you a soda or something? Perhaps a plastic bag?”

  “Ginger ale and a bag, please.”

  He gave her a sympathetic smile because he wasn’t a total asshole. She was obviously caught in a tough spot, having feelings for someone she legally and ethically shouldn’t be anywhere near outside of the office.

  “No problem.” Kyle slipped from the booth and headed to the bar. It took a few minutes to get waited on, and several more before the bartender handed him the soda and a barf bag. Hopefully he wasn’t too late. As he made his way through the crowd, he was surprised to find his date sitting in their booth. Nikko and Violet were nowhere to be seen.

  She gave him a finger-fluttering wave as he approached, her grin big and flirtatious, with just a hint of guile. Oh yeah, this girl was trouble.

  “Where’s your date?” he asked, slipping into the booth opposite her and stretching into a lazy sprawl.

  “What are you talking about? You’re my date.”

  Could have fooled him, not that Kyle particularly cared. He didn’t do jealousy and he wasn’t into drama. Penelope Cantrel may be gorgeous with those dark mocha-colored eyes and that curly blonde hair that looked about as wild and rebellious as the woman herself, but pretty faces were nothing special in Vegas. He could walk up to the bar and find a dozen more just like her. MMA fighters were like crack to the women around here.

  “If you’re wondering what happened to Nikko and Violet, they left together a few minutes ago.”

  Yeah, that was definitely smug satisfaction brimming on those heart-shaped lips. He studied her and the devious delight dancing in her eyes. “You were messing with them, weren’t you?” All right, maybe there weren’t a dozen others just like her, because that stunt right there had taken some serious moxie. “Why would you do that?” Curiosity had him asking, because not many people could get away with pushing Del Toro’s buttons. Either way, Penelope Cantrel was very clever or very stupid. He hadn’t decided which one yet, but Kyle was intrigued enough to sit here and find out.

  “I don’t like being lied to.” Penelope picked up the ginger ale and took a sip, then made a face at the virgin beverage before setting it down and pushing it away. “Those two have been denying that there’s something going on between them for weeks. I got sick of Violet’s lies and decided to call
her bluff. I did them both a favor. Nikko should be thanking me.”

  “You think it worked?”

  She shrugged. “They left together, didn’t they?”

  He didn’t actually see them leave, so he had to take her word for it. “You don’t think that was kinda harsh, coming on to the guy you know your best friend has feelings for?”

  She laughed. The sound was loud and bawdy, but for some reason, it totally worked on her. “Please…” She slipped out of the booth and came around to his side of the bench. Cozying up to him, she plastered her thigh against his and slipped her arm around his neck. Her breasts pressed into his biceps as she leaned in close, her lips almost touching his, but not quite committing. “That wasn’t coming onto someone.”

  Surprisingly, this woman was just as beautiful up close as she was across the table—maybe even more so. There was no caked foundation or blush lines on her sun-kissed cheeks. Her artfully applied liner and the shimmer of light brown shadow accentuated eyes that had an exotic look to them. The dark brown color held little flecks of mossy green. She truly was stunning. But her best feature—the thing that had his dick shooting so hard he was pretty sure it had friction burn from his zipper—was her lips. She had a beautiful smile, the most kissable mouth he’d ever seen.

  “This is coming onto someone,” she whispered, and then closed the scant distance between them.

  Her mouth made contact with his and ho-ly shit. His reaction to her was swift and visceral as she boldly swept her tongue into his mouth. Her fingers tightened into his hair, tugging sharply as she kissed the hell out of him. He’d met some assertive women before, but none of them pulled it off as sexy and seamless as she did. Penelope had an amazing mouth and she knew how to use it. But if she thought he was going to let her run this show, she had no idea who she was dealing with.

  It took about three seconds for his alpha to engage his brain, and another one for him to take control of the situation. A throaty growl rumbled in his chest as he reached for her and slipped his hands into her unruly curls. He shifted his weight, leaning into her and dominating their position as he readjusted the angle of her head so he could get a better fit on that gorgeous mouth.

  He wasn’t shy and had absolutely no issue with PDA. Apparently, neither did Penelope, because she upped the ante by reaching between his legs and palming his erection. The pressure building in the base of his cock warned him this was about to get illegal if he didn’t rein her in. This woman had taken him from zero to sixty faster than a goddamn Porsche.

  This wasn’t like him. He didn’t lose control. But apparently, he did, because she was fighting him for that exact thing—and winning—since he was seconds from nutting in his jeans. The last time he’d been this close to embarrassing himself, he’d been fifteen-years-old, making out with Kayla Harte in the back of her parents’ station wagon. He had to stop this. They needed to get a room before they got arrested, because this was not the publicity he wanted to be bringing down on Miller MMA—especially after Nikko’s stunt a few weeks ago that had turned a press party into a mosh pit.

  Before Kyle could come up for air and suggest they take this someplace more private, the sound of shattering glass rang out across the club. Penelope startled, jerking back. The expression on her face gave him the impression that she, too, was caught off guard at how quickly this fire had burned out of control.

  She broke his stare to search the crowd, but Kyle was having a hard time taking his eyes off the woman who’d stolen his breath. Had he not been watching her, he might have missed the flicker of recognition in her eyes as she spotted someone in the crowd. It looked a lot like fear, but then it was gone, so brief he almost convinced himself he’d imagined it.

  “Something wrong?” He canted his head in the direction she’d been staring, but saw no one out of the ordinary.

  “Everything’s fine.”

  She forced a smile that failed to reach her eyes, her tone holding an edge of wariness that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. Even without the visual cues, he knew she wasn’t being honest with him, because that was the same damn response he got from his sister, Willow, whenever everything was definitely not fine.

  “Hey, you want to get out of here?” she asked, softly dragging her nail down the side of his neck.

  Yeah, she was trying to distract him, and it was working. If she didn’t want to talk about her business, who was he to pry? He had enough of his own problems, i.e. Willow Scott, his baby sister, who wasn’t exactly a baby anymore. The only thing worse than discovering she was sneaking around with some dick-wad behind his back was the knowledge that she’d been lying to him about it. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the asshole that dared to defile his sister. A name…all Kyle needed was a name and that sonofabitch was going to pay. And if all went as planned, his best friend, Regan, would get the information out of her tonight. Then Kyle would head to the hardware store for a big-ass shovel and a bag of lye.

  Regan and Willow had always been close. Hell, he’d been a better brother to her after their parents died than Kyle had been. What had he known about raising a teenage girl? Obviously not a whole hell of a lot considering he found some guy’s underwear lying on her bedroom floor last night.

  Loss like he and Willow had lived through could seriously mess a person up, and it wasn’t until times like this—when she looked him in the eye and bald-face lied to him—that Kyle was forced to face the fact that he still had a lot of anger and suppressed shit inside him he’d never dealt with. To be honest, there were times he envied Regan and Willow’s relationship. It hadn’t been easy, stepping into a parental role when he’d barely been more than a kid himself. But he’d done it, and what Regan didn’t understand, what no one could seem to understand, was that girl had become Kyle’s entire life.

  Was it healthy? Of course not. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew how messed up this situation was, and he knew he’d eventually have to let Willow go. But not yet. She was barely twenty-one and the only surviving family he had left. He’d walked away from everything for her, sacrificing a full-ride scholarship at Harvard to come home and raise his little sister, because keeping Willow out of the foster system was more important to him than his dreams.

  Being a black and white-minded man who viewed much of the world in absolutes, he and Willow hadn’t always seen eye to eye on some issues over the years, but what they had between them was solid. It was a relationship built on love, respect, and trust. Unfortunately, she’d just shattered the shit out of the latter.

  Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?

  Shoving aside one of life’s greatest questions, Kyle stood and took hold of her hand, tugging his date to her feet. “Come on, Penelope. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Pen.”

  “What?”

  “My friends call me Pen. Where do you want to go? Your place or mine?”

  The invitation to hook up couldn’t have been clearer, and that was exactly what he needed to get his mind off his clusterfuck of a life. He wouldn’t have pegged her for a cage-banger. Not that he cared. He was used to women wanting to screw him because he was Kyle “The Killer” Scott, welterweight fighter currently in contention for a shot at the title. He didn’t have time in his life for anyone permanent, so he was using them as much as they were using him—win-win. Everyone walked away happy and satisfied. No harm, no foul.

  This grind had been his life for the last five years and he saw no reason to change things up now. His gaze dropped to the amazing cleavage shot she gave him. When he forced his eyes back up to hers, they held a glint of amusement that promised all sorts of fun and debauchery. He didn’t know the first thing about Pen, other than she was Violet’s bestie, and honestly, he preferred to keep it that way. The less he knew about the women he screwed, the better.

  Giving his date a wicked grin, he tugged her hand and led her through the crowd as he called over his shoulder, “Definitely your place.”

  Chapter Two


  Pen woke to the rustle of bedsheets beside her. She cracked open an eye and was treated to a mouthwatering view of sculpted, hard-muscled flesh—every naked inch of the welterweight MMA fighter on display. And, man, was he impressive. Even asleep, Kyle “The Killer” Scott exuded an air of dominance that was as irresistible as it was undeniable.

  She didn’t usually go for alphas. She preferred to play it safe with the betas, avoiding the inevitable power struggle. Pen had learned a long time ago that control was the key to strength and self-preservation. It was something she never gave up, because losing control was one step closer to becoming a victim, and that was something she would never be again.

  Yet, for some reason, she found herself breaking her own rules with this one and inviting the fighter home. As she mused the wisdom of her recklessness, Pen continued to study the gorgeous man sprawled on his back, arms stretched above his head. Had she let his masculine beauty sway her good judgment? Perhaps. She took a leisurely trek down his chest to the roadmap of muscle across his abdomen, then to the sexy v at his hips that naturally drew her gaze south. Even at rest, what lay between his thighs was a drool-worthy specimen of fine, male flesh.

  Watching him sleep, one thought continued to resonate in her mind—the same one she hadn’t been able to dismiss since the moment she met him. This man is dangerous. He tempted her too much, made her feel more than she was willing to allow—and that scared the hell out of her. Though she’d never admit it to this guy, or anyone else for that matter. Pen truly had missed her calling, because she was a phenomenal actress. Not even her best friend saw through her façade. Of course, they’d both agreed early on that if their friendship was going to last, Violet could not employ her psycho-babble bullshit on her.