Impromptu Match (Goliaths of Wrestling, #1)

by Lily Mayne

Then it hit me, and I had a mini existential crisis at my desk. This is it. This is my life. I spent ten minutes picking out my tie this morning. I ironed my underpants even though no one ever sees them but me. I’m going to die here.

I’d typed out the word ‘synergy’ so many times in the last twelve years that it appeared in my dreams. I still didn’t even really know what it meant, and at this point I was too afraid to ask.

Dick-starved, I decided. It was a miserable, dick-starved mouth. I hadn’t had a dick in my mouth in four long years. Whatever muscles were used for dicksucking had probably just given up. Resigned themselves to the knowledge that they would never be put to work again.

I accepted a slice of cake on a paper plate from Sharon with a smile and a somewhat enthusiastic, “Thanks,” even though it was lemon cake, which was the cake choice of evil villain overlords hellbent on sowing chaos and destruction, in my opinion.

“Oh, there you are.” We both turned at the new voice coming from the doorway behind me. A tall, lean guy with bright pink hair pulled back into a knot, pale skin and eerily bright blue eyes was staring at me as if he knew me.

I’d lose. I’d lose so bad. I’d be the first to get my head lopped off or a spear jabbed between my ribs.

I feel that hahahahaha

“He specifically requested—” He squinted down at his clipboard. “‘—sad office worker forced to attend a colleague’s birthday party.’ I mean, that’s clearly you.”

“God, I can smell the ennui from here. Fucking perfect.” Ennui? Smell? What? I cautiously lifted my arm to sniff my pit.

The boss of a secret wrestling association operating out of the basement of my work building had dressed up in a costume and hired an exotic dancer to give him a sexy “sad office worker” striptease in his office. I couldn’t decide which part was the weirdest.

I was so wildly out of my depth in this situation that for a split second, I almost started shuffling side to side in an awkward attempt at sexy dancing. He was unnervingly commanding. His whole presence was.

“Mmm. No, you’re not, are you?” He gave me a coy smirk, and I quickly realised with horror that he thought this was part of my ‘act.’ “You’re just a sad little office drone who thought he might claw back some excitement in his life by stripping for strangers after work, aren’t you? God, that’s hot.” Jesus Christ. I was sweating, and I was humiliated to realise that it wasn’t just from awkward embarrassment.

He watched me in silence for a few moments, then nodded emphatically. “Yes. That’s exactly right. This is my wrestling persona. I’m the… I’m Pink Eye. The wrestler.” I pursed my lips to hold back my smile, but Holt still seemed to realise I was trying not to snort. He narrowed his eyes at me, sharply asking, “What’s funny?”

Good grief. I’d made this beautiful, unhinged wrestling boss horny? With my ennui?

“That little bitch Marcus,” Holt said with a surprising amount of vehemence. “Let me guess. He’s the reason you haven’t eaten ice cream in years?” “Well, kind of,” I said doubtfully. “He encouraged me to cut out dairy, but I don’t really know why I’ve stuck to that since he left.” “Let’s get some ice cream right fucking now.” Holt slammed a fist on his desk, then reached over to the phone and fumbled with the buttons. “Lark? Can you come here?”

“Babe, you’re not a loser. You’re not boring.” “You thought I was the stripper you’d hired to specifically play a sad office worker.” “Yeah, but what do I know? I’m not even human. I’m just a sad, horny guy who works in a basement.”

We’d made a pact, damn it! I’d told him about the time I slipped in the shower while using my suction dildo and gave myself a black eye on the edge of the bath. He’d told me he once threw his back out trying to suck his own dick. We weren’t supposed to ever see each other again after that. Those were the rules!

“Will you, um…” I fiddled with the strap of my backpack self-consciously. “Will you be in your cosplay stuff again?” He went still, watching me. My face flamed red, which made my head throb with a fresh wave of pain. I saw his throat bob. “Did you like it?” he asked eventually, his husky voice growing a little deeper.

“Nice tie.” He nodded at my chest, so I looked down. I hadn’t even been aware of which one I’d grabbed this morning, but now I saw it was pale pink.

Corey still looked upset at the thought of hurting my feelings, but he turned toward Larkin and held out his tiny Pomeranian. “Cora needs a walk. Make sure she goes peepee.” Larkin let out a huge sigh, but this seemed to be a regular occurrence, because he took the little dog from Corey without a word. Corey and Cora. That was kind of sweet.

My asshole was already practically puckering at the thought of Holt… Of me and Holt maybe…

“I’m getting major vibes, you two,” Larkin breathed between us, his face unnervingly close. “Like, there’s an energy here, you know?”

“I like the way you look,” I blurted, blood rushing to my face. But I wanted him to know. His eyes shot back to mine. He licked his lips nervously. “Yeah?” “Yes.” I swallowed thickly. “It’s really… You’re… you’re really…”

Holt, this beautiful, successful creature who was responsible for all of this, was turned on by me.

“And those dad jeans. God, Taylor.”

“Aww.” Larkin nudged my shoulder. “You’re like two single dads finding a second chance at love in your twilight years. It’s adorbs, honestly.”

“I have a piercing down there too,” he whispered in my ear, making my cock stiffen fully in a rush. Oh my god. What piercing did he have? Would he let me play with it with my tongue?

Weirdly, the sight of Holt and Larkin didn’t freak me out at all. I was too attracted to Holt to panic over the fact that he wasn’t actually human, and Larkin was too ridiculous to take seriously.

“F-f-fuck, your dicksucking m-muscles are… in excellent condition,” he panted, head falling back against the armrest. “They’re s-so… good—Fuck—Taylor—”

“Oh my god,” Holt sobbed, breaths sawing in and out of him. “You’re sucking it so good. Oh my god, Taylor. Wh-what the fuck…”

My dicksucking muscles were the strongest fucking muscles in my whole body. I could probably lift a car with them or something.

“But now that you’ve seen my lopsided nuts and you still asked me to stay, I’m pretty confident you wanna hang out with me again.” “Your lopsided nuts are perfect,” I told him. “I mean, they’re metallic. They’re the prettiest balls I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck, I want your fingers in my ass. And your tongue. And your cock. And then I wanna throw your legs over my shoulders and fuck you until you come on my dick. God, I bet you sound so good getting fucked.”

Fuck yeah, I still had it. I was some kind of handjob wizard. And blowjobs. Honestly, Holt made me feel pretty amazing about myself. I hadn’t had that in a really long time.

I stared in disbelief at Holt, dressed as a delivery guy—complete with a baseball cap and little shorts and everything—holding an enormous bunch of sunflowers as he grinned at Grace.

“I’ll let you plough my incubussy all night long, Lark,” Gabe purred, “once you stop being such a tease.”

“Fuck, don’t stop, Taylor,” he panted, eyes glued to my dick as it vanished inside the toy over and over. “Oh my god. I think I’m gonna come before you do.”

“Why Brian?” Larkin asked, narrowing his eyes slightly at Seb. “Because he’s a werewolf? I didn’t know you were buds.” “We’re not, but we’ve spoken a few times. Obviously,” Seb said calmly. “Why does that matter?” “I dunno.” Larkin restlessly spun his chair side to side, then flicked a shrimp at Seb. It landed on his pant leg. He didn’t move to brush it off. “Just… Why is your suggestion the werewolf?”

“He’s such a little shitbag,” Holt muttered, holding up his middle finger to the pair. “When he finally gets a boyfriend or girlfriend, I’m going to make his life fucking miserable.”

I pursed my lips, saying nothing. Larkin definitely liked to flirt with the wrestlers, yeah. But I wasn’t convinced that he actually wanted to follow through and have sex with any of them. Or maybe the idea of it really happening just made him nervous.

“You eat ass just as good as you suck dick, Mr. Hough,” he murmured against my lips. “And ride dick. And stroke dick. Look, my dick is just fully on board with whatever you’re willing to give it.”

“My dick just really, really likes you. And my asshole.” His throat bobbed. “And the rest of me. All of me. All of me just… really, really likes you, Taylor.” I swallowed, my chest aching as I slid my palm along his forearm. “All of me really likes you too.”

Oh my god. Oh my god. I’d been right. This had to mean I was right, didn’t it? Lizard Granny Mafia was real. And their boss, Big E, was offering to have her “girls” pay Marcus a visit for slighting me.

“Oh fuck yes, baby. Fuck me with that beautiful dick. Make me come on it.”

I was addicted to him. I was kind of obsessed with him. I couldn’t get enough of Holt Hector. I wanted to spend every spare moment I had with him.

Well. We’d certainly… got up to something last night. Tiptoeing over empty bottles and various body parts, I manoeuvred around Vince’s passed out body to put on a pot of coffee. I was pretty sure we’d all need it.

Which meant I noticed Larkin wrapped in a towel on a sun lounger, his head bent over his phone as he texted someone, before he announced that he needed a piss to no one in particular and disappeared into the house. Five minutes later, Seb casually got out of the hot tub, dried off, and slipped inside as well.