Big D!ck Energy (Kings of the Ring #2)

Prologue

DAVINA

I smoothed down the front of my emerald cocktail dress for the fifth time in as many minutes, scanning the crowded rooftop bar for any sign of Brooke. The Downtown Tampa skyline twinkled behind the glass barriers, a perfect backdrop for my best friend's engagement party.

Spotting her across the room, standing next to her fiancé, Mataio Strickland, I smiled. I was so incredibly happy for her. There was no doubt in this world that those two were meant to be together.

I strolled across the roof, weaving through the crowds of people who came to celebrate with them.

“Davina!” Brooke squealed when she spotted me.

I rushed over, navigating around a waiter balancing a tray of champagne flutes, and threw my arms around her. “The future Mrs. Strickland! You look stunning.” She was radiant in a short white A-line cocktail dress.

“I'm so glad you're here early,” she said, linking her arm through mine. “There's someone I want you to meet.”

Mataio gave me a warm hug. “Thanks for the custom ties for the groomsmen. They're perfect.”

“Anything for my favorite power couple.” I winked at Brooke. “Though I'm still waiting for The Mountain to wear my new women's line on ESPN.”

Matt laughed, his booming voice drawing attention from nearby guests. “I'd break the internet, and speaking of breaking things,” Matt said, his eyes darting toward the bar. “My best man just arrived. Have you met Dallas yet?”

We had met before, but only for a brief moment backstage at one of Matt's wrestling matches, and that had all gone down terribly. It was the day Brooke found out from Dallas that their initial meeting started with a bet. He thought it would be funny to send the pro wrestler to hit on Brooke because she didn’t fit into his idea of what he thought perfect looked like.

“Dallas 'The Dominator' Dodger?” I didn't bother hiding my lack of enthusiasm.

“The very same,” Brooke confirmed, a knowing expression crossing her face. “He's, uh... he's quite a character.”

Matt waved toward the bar. “Dallas! Over here!”

Matt saw the situation a little differently than I did. He saw Dallas as the reason he met the love of his life. I saw him as an oversized, egotistical dick.

I grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter. I was going to need it. Dallas Dodger was walking toward us, and unfortunately, the man was impossible to ignore. At six-foot-four, he towered over most of the guests, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd.

His hair was long and darker than I remembered, like he’d stopped dying it.

It was pulled back in a sleek man bun, and a short beard framed that annoyingly photogenic jaw.

He’d skipped the suit jacket, opting instead for dark grey slacks and a white dress shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned and toned forearms.

That signature half-smile playing on his lips made me want to trip him into the decorative fountain.

“Mountain Man!” Dallas called out, clapping Matt on the shoulder. “Some party. Almost makes matrimonial imprisonment look appealing.” He laughed at his own joke.

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Dallas, this is my best friend and business partner I was telling you about…”

“Diana, right?” Dallas interrupted, barely glancing my way.

“Davina,” I corrected, extending my hand and already regretting it.

He shook it briefly. “Right, right. The clothes girl.”

I withdrew my hand, eyes widening. Clothes Girl. What the actual fuck? I owned a multimillion-dollar clothing line geared towards plus-size women, and that labeled me ‘clothes girl.’

“Yes, I own Curvy Closet Apparel. We dressed half the guests here tonight.”

“Including me,” Brooke added pointedly.

Dallas gave me a once-over. “Cool, cool. So, Davidson, you're what? An Instagram influencer or something?”

My sneer was downright lethal. “It's Davina, and no, I'm the CEO of a successful business and co-host of Big Girl Panties, currently the number three podcast in the country.”

“Dallas was just telling me about his new endorsement deal,” Matt interjected, clearly trying to smooth things over.

“Biggest contract in the history of the World of Wrestling,” Dallas confirmed. “Not surprising considering last season's performance. I singlehandedly…”

“Carried the entire Summer Showdown?” I finished for him. “Interesting, because I distinctly remember Matt hitting his finisher to win the W.O.W. while you were busy playing dead outside the ring.”

Dallas's eyes narrowed. “Deborah…”

“Davina.”

“...whatever. Everyone played their part, but when you're the face of the franchise three years running, when your merch outsells everyone else's combined, the spotlight tends to follow you.” He checked his Rolex. “Speaking of which, is Mia James here yet?”

“The model?” I asked.

“You mean the one you took to dinner last week, then ghosted when you found out she was turning twenty-four next month?” Brooke asked sweetly.

I nearly choked on my champagne. “I'm sorry, what?”

Dallas had the audacity to look annoyed. “That's not exactly....”

“He means he has a strict dump em’ before twenty-three policy,” Matt explained, not bothering to hide his disapproval.

“That's not…”

“How evolved of you,” I said dryly. “What happens at twenty-three? Do women suddenly develop opinions?”

Dallas smirked. “They start talking about the future, and frankly, Danielle…”

“Davina.”

“...my future is booked solid with championships and celebrations that don't involve baby shower games.”

The bartender appeared with a tray. “Mr. Dodger, your special-order bourbon.”

“My man!” Dallas exclaimed, grabbing the glass. “Hey, did you know I'm the reason these two lovebirds are together?”

I raised an eyebrow at Brooke, who was suddenly fascinated with her fingernails.

“Oh really? Because I recall a certain bet that nearly torpedoed their entire relationship,” I crossed my arms.

Dallas's smile faltered momentarily. “Ancient history. Besides, look how it turned out!”

I stared at Dallas incredulously. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Dallas clinked his glass against mine. “Look, Delilah…”

“It's DAVINA,” I snapped, and several guests turned to look.

He grinned, and I realized he was getting my name wrong on purpose. “Just checking to see if you were paying attention.”

“To your overwhelming narcissism? Hard to miss,” I retorted.

His laugh seemed genuinely surprised. “You know, most women don't talk to me like that.”

“Most women don't know you yet,” I countered, then turned to Brooke. “I'm going to mingle. Some of us have actual networking to do instead of just admiring our own reflections.” I squeezed her hand. “Find me later?”

“Nice meeting you, Danielle,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned down from his ridiculous height. “Something tells me we're going to have a lot of fun in Vegas. Maybe I'll even show you my signature submission hold.”

“I'd rather be put through a table,” I replied sweetly.

He threw his head back and laughed, a genuine laugh that transformed his face and made my stomach flip against my will.

“Challenge accepted, sweetheart,” he winked, before striding away to toast his friend, high-fiving fans who recognized him.

I downed the rest of my champagne in one gulp. This wedding was going to be a disaster. And not the fun kind they script for Wrestle Jam.