The Champ:Bad Boys Book 5(3)

By: Jordan Silver

In that one look I saw all the worry I’d given her and the rest of our friends in the last few months. I knew that there was more to this than just me dancing to impress some guy who I’d probably never meet. She needed reassurance that her old friend was really healing and on her way back to the person she used to be before…

I closed my thoughts off right there not willing to spoil the night for everyone else and gave in to the inevitable. When this one gets like this there’s no putting her off anyway. “Fine Christine, but you have to dance with me.” I held onto her hand as we made our way to the far end of the floor and felt the first stirrings of excitement since I’d taken my first peek at Mr. Sexy.

Of course the music got into my blood from the first treble and there was no turning back. This song always gets to me and I wasn’t too sure that Christine the sneak hadn’t put the DJ up to playing it. I threw my head back by the second string and let the music take me away.

Christine, who wasn’t much for dancing herself, let go of my hand but by then I didn’t care. It was just me the music and those killer blue eyes that had seemed to pierce me to my very soul in that one flash of time. The music grew louder as I moved my hips and hummed the tune under my breath.

I’d done this routine so many times before I could see each move behind my lids before I made them. I won’t lie and say I’d forgotten him there, but now it was all about feeling good. And I did feel good, for the first time in way too long.

I let all my angst and worries drift away as I enjoyed the moment. My lovely friends stood back cheering me on while I made a fool of myself in the middle of the dance floor. I smiled with my eyes closed as they dared me to go for it. If I’d opened my eyes I might’ve lost some of my bravado, but after the hell I’d been through I needed this, needed to feel like myself again.

When I finally did open my eyes as I lost all shyness, I was alone. Where only a few minutes ago there had been a few people swaying to the music, now it seemed everybody else had stopped and moved to the edge of the dance floor to watch. It was the Traci Starr show. At least my name sounded about right for my new profession. I no longer cared though; I was free.

Before I knew it, my hands were in my hair lifting it off my neck and my ass was on a slow roll. I felt eyes on me but the booze gave me that ‘I don’t give a shit factor’ and I was feeling no pain. Besides, my girls wouldn’t let anything happen to me. And beyond all that, I needed this.

Then I started dancing for him. I knew he was watching, his stare felt different to all the others. And though I wasn’t brave enough to turn and look at him head on while shaking my ass, I let my body do the talking. It was the boldest thing I’d done since I’d regained some of my confidence. The realization that I never thought to feel this way again only spurred me on farther.

“Go Traci…” I could hear the whistles and yells of my crazy friends as they clapped their hands and egged me on. And the shy introverted girl who had never so much as spoken too loud in public let her hair down and let the music take her away.

Chapter 2



"Well fuck, I'll give her diamonds. Hold my jacket Chad, this might get ugly, I see the vultures swarming already." I passed my ridiculously expensive jacket off to my brother and rolled up the sleeves of my cashmere Black label sweater.

This wasn’t my norm, for one thing I don’t even know her, we hadn’t met. For another, since I’d gone pro I made it a point not to throw my arm outside the ring because the fuckers were now insured. Add the fact that if I fucked somebody’s shit up the law would throw the book at me because my shits are lethal weapons. None of that mattered though when I saw the intent of some of the bar’s less than upstanding occupants.

It's a good thing I'd worn jeans and ass kickers. I couldn't have fought as well in loafers and it looks like I'm going to have to kick some ass before the night was over. These good ole boys were raised on oats and steel and had heads like granite. I know; I’ve fought my share of oxen before I went pro and none of my challengers had anything on these homegrown louts.

The first motherfucker to put hands on her was going down hard all the same. That was all mine. I'll have a little talk with her about advertising my shit in public just as soon as I've had her under me maybe twice or three times. Women tend to get testy about the overbearing male telling them what to do. I give a fuck about that. I know if I find her ass so appealing that others will too as was obvious by the fucking leers, I’m not down with that shit.

My dick was taking in the show and giving her the stamp of approval, this was a good thing but I needed to seal the deal first before he got out the gate. The throb was a little harder than it has ever been at this point in the game, and I had to do a little shift and pat to keep him down.

"Quiet boy we're gonna go get her." My dick could be a bit unruly when he sees something he likes. The fuck was going crazier than usual though, which is how I knew I was in trouble. I kinda got an inkling when I found myself unable to look away, and had spent the last half an hour silently willing her to look around so I could finally see what face went with that amazing ass. That one look had only sucked me in deeper.

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