Ivan (An Out of the Cage Novel Book 2) Read online

  “The girls backstage are drawing straws for you, handsome,” the topless blonde gyrating on Knox’s lap looks over and tells me. “You and Knox are the catch of the day.”

  Great. That’s all I need, one of the girls to find out how messed up I am below the belt and then gossip about it to all the others. Shit, this is a bad idea.

  For years I’ve had a mental cock blockage. I know my junk works just fine because sometimes I wake up to jets of cum spraying from it, but god forbid if I try to tug one out myself. There’s not a single pornographic movie or thought that can assist me in finding a release. Forget blue balls. Mine are now an ugly shade of purple. They get so swollen that I end up having wet dreams just so my body can get some relief. So I’m obviously just fucked up in the head thanks to my past…

  Maybe it’s time for me to get medical help. Or at least admit the problem to my friend and ask Knox what he thinks I should do.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?” I lean over and ask Knox.

  “Ah, yeah, sure,” Knox mutters in surprise since I usually don’t have much to say. “Give me a minute, darlin’,” he tells the blonde while easing her off of his lap so that he can stand up.

  Getting to my feet, I walk over to the men’s room with Knox following behind me. Once inside, I look under each of the three stalls to make sure we’re alone. Convinced we are, I finally decide to start talking, hoping he may be able to give me some advice.

  “I have a problem,” I start when I turn to face him again.

  “What? Do you need a condom? I have a few,” he says. Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulls out a roll of condoms that’s at least two feet long.

  “No, it’s not that,” I say.

  “So then what is it?” he asks while folding the protection up to put it away again.

  Struggling to find the words, I eventually say, “I can’t…you know, get off.”

  “Get off where?” Knox asks with his brow furrowed.

  “Not a place,” I grumble, wiping both of my sweaty palms on my jeans. “I mean I can’t…finish, like ever.”

  “Finish?” Knox repeats, and then his mouth opens in an exaggerated “O” shape. “Are you trying to say you can’t come?”

  “Yeah, that,” I admit while my cheeks and the back of my neck heats up like a burnt tomato.

  “Are you…you’re not…well, gay, are you?” Knox asks.

  “What the fuck?” I snap at him. Narrowing my eyes, I tell him, “No, I’m not gay! Why would you ask me that?”

  Lifting a shoulder and letting it fall, he says, “I dunno. You said you can’t get it up, so I thought you were focusing on the wrong dance partner.”

  “I can get it up,” I correct him. “That’s not the problem. I like women. It’s just when it comes time to complete the transaction…”

  “You have insufficient funds?” he supplies.

  “If by ‘insufficient funds’ you mean nothing comes out, then yes, that’s what I have,” I reply while withholding from him the entire ugly truth --- that I’m haunted and tortured by a woman screaming in agony whenever I get close to a release. Not just any woman…

  “Wow,” Knox says, glancing down at my zipper and quickly away. “You mean nothing ever comes out?”

  “No,” I answer. “Well, sometimes after dreams…”

  “How has your dick not exploded yet?” he asks. “And your poor balls…what’s the matter with you? You need to see a cock doc stat!”

  “I’m not sure if it’s a physical problem,” I admit. “In fact, I’m almost certain that it’s mental since I do erupt when I have certain dreams…”

  “So your dick works in your sleep but is malfunctioning when you’re awake?” he asks.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” I say with a sigh. “What the fuck should I do about it?”

  “How long has this been going on?” Knox asks.

  “Six years.”

  “Six motherfucking years?” Knox exclaims, so loudly that everyone probably heard him over the music outside in the club.

  “Could you not tell the world?” I snap.

  “Seriously, man, how is it still in one piece down there? I mean, it hasn’t busted down the seams yet, right?”

  “No. Like I said, when the pressure gets too bad, my dreams take care of business.”

  “What are your dreams? Have you tried like recreating them in the day?” Knox asks.

  “Sort of hard to do that,” I mumble with a cringe.

  “Why? Everything in our dreams can be made possible for the right price and with the right slut…”

  “Not this one,” I admit, my face going thermal nuclear in embarrassment.

  “Now I really want to know,” Knox replies with a grin. “Come on, tell me. How bad can it be?”

  “Pretty fucking bad,” I answer.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  I shake my head, refusing to admit this truth to him.

  “Please?” he asks while crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll try and help you, but first I need to know all of the facts, and this is a pretty important one. Just tell me. I promise I won’t laugh.”

  Since it sounds like Knox is being honest and not just wanting to know so he can make fun of me, I finally get up the nerve to spill. “You remember that old live action movie crossed with animation called Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”

  “Ah, yeah, sort of,” Knox says with a nod, then his eyes widen. “Oh my God. Jessica Rabbit? You…she…” Then he can’t speak anymore because he doubles over laughing.

  “Thanks a lot, fucker,” I grumble. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

  “I’m sorry…but I wasn’t expecting…animated…bahahah!” Knox cackles for several long minutes while I stand there glaring at him because anger is a better emotion than shame.

  “No, man, seriously,” Knox says as he wipes the tears from his eyes. “Jessica Rabbit is hot…for a cartoon character.”

  “Shut up,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, I get it,” he tells me. “Long, red hair falling over one eye with those pouty lips, big ole round titties and enough curves to give you whiplash. If I had to pick a hot cartoon character, she would be my top choice.”

  “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” I ask him as I spear my fingers through the front of my dark hair.

  “Probably not, no,” Knox admits.

  “Just don’t tell Cain or anyone else about any of this, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, no,” he says. “Your secret is safe with me. I don’t think anyone would believe it anyway. So, have you tried, you know, watching that and giving yourself a tug?”

  Nodding in response, I say, “Didn’t work.”

  “Hmm. Well, have you…failed to launch inside of a woman?”

  “No, I’ve been afraid to try; because when I can’t, it’ll be too fucking embarrassing.”

  “You could just give it a go to see what happens,” Knox suggests. “Take home one of the club girls, turn off the lights, and then put it in. If you can’t come, then you fake it.”

  “Fake it?” I question.

  “Yeah, you know, Ohh fuck! I’m coming so hard! Uhhh!” he groans in imitation while slamming his hips forward to demonstrate. “Then you pull out and cover your dick up before she sees it if it’s still hard.”

  “You don’t think a woman would figure it out?” I ask.

  “Nah, as long as you get her off first, she’ll be too fuck-drunk to care if you come or not. Most guys come pretty fast, so don’t try for half an hour or some shit.”

  “How long then?” I ask. “Ten minutes?”

  “Ten minutes?” Knox says, then laughs. “More like five or six. But I’ll tell you what, condoms decrease sensitivity. So, if you’re brave, you could find a chick on birth control who looks like she hasn’t ridden every dick in town to try and go bareback.”

  “You think bareback will help?” I ask.

  “Definitely. You don’t know
heaven until you go inside the tsunami without a rain jacket on.”

  “I have no idea what that means,” I confess.

  “It means, a woman’s pussy was made to be nice and wet and oh so tight, the perfect combination for the cock’s ultimate pleasure…before rubbers were invented.”

  “So you’ve done that? Gone bare before?” I ask.

  “Oh yeah,” Knox admits looking a little sheepish. “Just once, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to get back there…”

  “Weren’t you worried about STDs or knocking her up?” I ask.

  “See, that’s the problem with an unexpected bareback fuck. It feels so good that none of that shit even registers in your head until it’s done. There are no takebacks once you hit the holy grail. Men would gladly die before pulling out and wrapping up after feeling the Promised Land the way God intended it to be felt.”

  “That good, huh?” I ask.

  “That. Fucking. Good. But there are consequences, so make sure all that other shit is a non-issue before you even start getting jiggy with it.”

  “Right,” I agree. “I’m thinking that the chance of finding a woman in this place who looks clean and not rode hard and hung up wet is gonna be slim to none.”

  “Let’s go find out,” Knox suggests, walking over to open the door to the bathroom. When I step out behind him, he stops so suddenly in the hallway that I slam into his backside.

  “What the fuck?” I ask him, before he turns around to face me.

  “Quick question. What color was Jessica Rabbit’s dress?” he asks.

  “Seriously?” I huff. “Please shut the fuck up about it.”

  “I’m not giving you shit!” Knox says. “What color was it?”

  “Red,” I answer with a sigh.

  “Damn, really? But she would still be hot in a sparkly blue dress too, right?” he asks with a grin.

  “Ah, yeah, I guess. Why?” I question.

  “Because I think it’s your lucky day...” Knox says before he steps to the side. “Wait for it.”

  “Wait for what?” I ask.

  “Wait for it,” is all he says again, reaching up to grab my shoulder.

  The women’s bathroom door opens, and then he says, “Now!” and shoves me right toward a redheaded beauty. And fuck she’s gorgeous. Wearing a strapless blue dress that’s short and sexy, but more fabric than the other women in here are wearing, the girl with ivory skin and freckles over her cheeks appears innocent and sweet even as she looks up at me in shy surprise when I bump into her side. She seems like the type who wouldn’t laugh at a man whose cock swells up but can’t come…

  “Say something,” Knox mutters from behind me. “Or I just might have to try something different tonight…”

  “Fuck off,” I tell him over my shoulder, even though I’m pretty sure he’s just messing with me.

  “Go get her, tiger,” he whispers before he walks past us.

  “Hey, sorry,” I tell her as my hands begin to sweat with nervousness because I’ve never actually tried to talk to a girl before. I subtly dry them on the sides of my jeans again.

  “That’s okay,” she replies while brushing her hair behind her right ear.

  “You’re beautiful,” I blurt out to the beautiful, kissed by fire girl.

  “Ah, thanks.”

  “I want you.” The words spill out of my mouth without thought, making me feel like an idiot. This is what I get for refusing to talk to people. “I mean, I’m not really sure how this works because I’ve never done it before…”

  Her pink, pouty lips part but nothing comes out at first, not until as she cuts her green eyes behind me to some big goon lumbering toward us. Looking up and down the length of my body she finally says, “Do you want to get out of here?”

  “Yes,” I say in excitement and relief that she figured out what I was trying to work up to ask.

  “You need to back the fuck away from her,” the approaching meathead orders.

  Fuck that.

  “Who the hell is he?” I ask, jabbing a thumb in the oaf’s direction.

  Leaning up on her toes to whisper in my ear she says, “He’s a relentless stalker. I would do anything to get away from him for a few hours.”

  And just like that, her wish is my command.

  “Yo! Did you hear me?” the bastard roars as he makes the mistake of grabbing me by my upper arm. As he jerks me backward, I ram my elbow into his ribs, catching him off-guard. While he’s momentarily stunned, I shove my booted foot backward into his knee, making him howl.

  “We better go fast, yeah?” I say with a grin before I grab her hand and start to pull her toward the back exit.

  “Not that way!” she says. “Quick, in here,” she urges, tugging on my hand and pulling me back into…

  “The women’s bathroom?” I ask.

  “Yeah, hurry. There’s a window we can squeeze through, but not him,” she says, locking the deadbolt of the main door behind us when we slip inside. Thankfully, the restroom is otherwise empty.

  “Won’t he just go around the front and wait for us?” I ask as she opens one of the stall doors and climbs up on the toilet seat to open the window above it.

  “Nah, he’s not the brightest,” she answers, stepping up on the lid. “Give me a push?” she asks.

  “Ah, sure,” I say, hesitating only a second before I place my hands on either side of her hips. “Ready?”

  “Hurry!” she replies, so I easily heft her weight while she pulls herself the rest of the way up on the windowsill, giving me a front row seat to the small strip of blue fabric that’s nestled between her perfect ass cheeks. My already hard dick perks up even more in interest, but of course, rising isn’t my problem, satisfying him completely is.

  Sitting on the edge of the window, the gorgeous redhead slips one leg and then the other through the window before she grins at me over her shoulder. “Thanks. I tried to do this thirty seconds before we met but couldn’t climb through by myself,” she informs me before disappearing with a “humph.”

  “You okay?” I ask, quickly pulling myself up and through the window in one swift move that ends with my feet on the alley pavement beside her.

  “Yeah, just broke my heel,” the girl answers while looking down at her right shoe in the alley illuminated by the surrounding street lamps.

  About that time, the back door to the club opens and a big shadow appears before yelling, “HEY!”

  Apparently pain makes him even angrier.

  “We’ve gotta run,” I tell her, scooping her up without warning into my arms. I can carry her a lot faster than she can hobble on a broken heel. And with a hurt knee, there’s no way the goon will be able to catch us.

  Cradling her against my chest, I take off running out toward the front of the building, which is our only exit, since I can’t throw her over a six-foot fence. I zip across the street, dodging traffic, and trying to avoid looking down and getting distracted at the beauty in my arms, her breasts heaving toward my mouth. Finally, I take a side street that comes out at our apartment.

  “I think we lost him,” the girl says as she looks over my shoulder, so I begin to slow down my jog into a hurried stroll.

  “Good, and we’re almost back to my apartment.”

  “So now that you’ve kidnapped me, can you maybe tell me your name?” she asks.

  “Ah, yeah, right. It’s Ivan,” I reply. “Yours?”

  “Maylin.”

  “Maylin?” I repeat, my brow creasing in recognition at the unusual name. “Aren’t you Gabby’s friend?”

  “Yes! You’re one of Gabby’s roommates, right?” she asks excitedly, her eyes twinkling in the darkness as she looks up at me with an enormous smile.

  “Yep,” I answer.

  “Oh, thank God! At least now I know you’re not a serial killer or anything since you’re a friend of a friend,” she says teasingly, while also sounding relieved.

  Shit. Do girls tell each other everything? I cringe as I remember th
e time Gabby walked in on me attempting to jerk off. Did she tell Maylin? “So, what has Gabby told you about me?” I ask.

  “Nothing really, just that you’re a fighter who doesn’t say much.”

  “Pretty accurate,” I agree. “Anything else?”

  “Um, no. Just that you all grew up together.”

  “That’s also true,” I say, relieved she doesn’t know more.

  Pulling out my keys from my front jean pocket, I quickly unlock the apartment door. Once we’re sealed inside, a few thoughts hit me as I set Maylin down on her feet again.

  “So, wait. You’re only eighteen, right? And isn’t your father Liam O’Donnell?”

  “Uh-huh,” she murmurs.

  “And he already lets you…dance at his club?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Dance?” she asks with her forehead furrowed.

  Chapter Four

  Maylin

  Oh, my God.

  Does Ivan think I’m a stripper? And I use the term stripper loosely since it’s no secret that my father allows his dancers to fuck men for money if the price is right. Tonight, on the way to his office, I walked by at least two rooms and heard the tell-tale moaning and grunting that had nothing to do with how great a woman’s dancing was.

  I also remember Gabby once telling me that fighters get to pick any “dancer” they want to bring home for a night after they win. Which means…did Ivan bring me home to have sex with him tonight?

  My father always said this dress was slutty…

  “Did you win a fight tonight?” I ask Ivan.

  “Yeah, of course,” he answers right away. “You can call and ask your father if you want. I mean, I wouldn’t try to pull one over on you or anything.”

  Jesus Christ. So, it’s true. Ivan thinks I’m a stripper who agreed to fuck him when I suggested leaving the club with him.

  So, how do I feel about that?

  Well, I really just wanted to get some air without babysitters for a few hours but now I’m incredibly nervous since I’ve never done anything like this before. I haven’t even kissed anyone before! Sure, I could explain to Ivan right now that he’s made a mistake in assuming I work for my father and that he wouldn’t approve of me having sex with one of his fighters.