Free Something Fierce [The Underground 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Jenika Snow Page A

crowd booed. The girl holding Tristan’s hand shouted hollered and screamed. “Let’s give some love to Jackson, the pretty boy.”
    Finally the girl released her hand and started jumping up and down, waving her hands in the hair. “Come on, baby, show them you ain’t no pussy.”
    Common sense told Tristan now would be a good time to leave, but curiosity and a twisted desire to see what would happen next had her feet rooted to the spot. A tall, athletically built man stepped out of the door. He was shirtless, and Tristan was impressed with his lean, muscled abdomen. He lifted his hands in the air, grinning at the booing crowd, and made his way to the ring. He climbed a set of steps and a woman clad in what Tristan supposed was meant to be a bikini opened the cage door for him. Once inside he started jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.
    “That’s my man. That’s my Jackson.” The girl looked over at Tristan and beamed. Tristan couldn’t help but smile at the adoration and pride reflected on the girl’s face. “Come on, baby!”
    “His reputation precedes him from the East, and if you haven’t heard of how legendary he is, you’ve been living under a fucking rock. You know him as the unbeatable, but will pretty boy be able to take away his title?” The crowd went bat-shit crazy and Tristan did cover her ears then. “Let’s welcome the one, the only, the motha’ fuckin’ Champion!”
    Roars, cheers, and curses rang throughout the room. All at once, people started pushing and shoving, trying to get closer to the cage. Tristan was pushed farther back, and with her hand now free from the bouncy girl, she had nothing to keep her rooted to her spot. The roar of the crowd got louder, if possible, and she knew whoever the Champion was, he had just made his appearance.
    Standing on her toes, which proved a harder task than she thought given the heels she wore, Tristan looked over the heads of the men and women in front of her. It was no use. Her position, coupled with her short stature, even with the damn heels on, made it impossible to see a damn thing until he entered the raised cage. She felt the tendrils of excitement and anticipation weave through her. Sweat bloomed between her breasts and her heart raced. Was this the thrill everyone in this room had, or was it just the oppressive heat in the room?
    Looking around at the people surrounding her, seeing their flushed faces, hearing their rude phrases, and smelling the scent of arousal and sweat, Tristan knew they felt it, too. She tried to see over the heads in front of her, but her current position made it near to impossible. An opening off to the side, much closer to the front, caught her eye and she hastily pushed her way through the people to get to it. She had no clue why she wanted such a close seat to the violence that was sure to transpire, but as her heart beat in time with the shouting and the adrenaline now pumping through her veins, Tristan couldn’t help herself.
    When she reached the opening, a few people had already clambered in front of her. The gap between their bodies gave her a prime shot of Jackson, but she had yet to see this Champion that the announcer kept praising. A flash of dark hair off to the side caught her eye and she craned her neck to try and make him out. It was still no use. When she went to the left, so did the people in front of her, and when she shuffled to the right, they followed suit.
    Tristan had since gotten accustomed to the noise, but as the people stomped their feet in unison, the room seemed to vibrate and pulse around her. That was when he finally climbed the steps to the cage and came into her view. When the shirtless, dark-haired contender stepped into the cage, Tristan’s mouth hung open. No fucking way .
    Kash stood in front of Jackson, his stance the complete opposite of his opponent. His back was to her now and the dark swirls and lines of his tattoo made him seem even more menacing. Women beside