"Relax," he grinned, cracking his neck. "I’ll make it look good. That’s what they pay for, right? The show?"
She lay there, the dust settling on her eyelashes, staring up at the rusted ceiling beams. The crowd chanted Jax’s name. He had won the match, but he looked down at her, chest heaving, confusion in his eyes. He knew, somewhere in his gut, that she had let him have it. He realized that if she had wanted to, she could have snapped him like a twig. He realized that "Sexy Wrasslin" wasn't about the skin or the glitter; it was about who held the power to protect. Dirty Wrestling Pit - Quot Sexy Wrasslin All The Way Quot
The neon lights of the Dusty Barrel flickered, casting long, rhythmic shadows over a makeshift ring in the center of the bar. This wasn't the high-gloss world of professional television wrestling; this was "Sexy Wrasslin All The Way," a local tradition where the mat was stained with soda and the air smelled of popcorn and cheap beer. The "Dirty Wrestling Pit" was actually a plastic pool filled with a slurry of chocolate pudding and mud, a spectacle that drew crowds from three counties away. "Relax," he grinned, cracking his neck
"You ready to sell it, sweetheart?" Jax asked, shadowboxing near the curtain. He wore sequined trunks that caught the dim fluorescent lights. The show
Voices from the pit