The Beat and The Pulse Box Set 2

by Amity Cross

  “You’re so arrogant it makes me sick.” I attempted to put a little more distance between us, but he just held me tighter. “It’s a real shame, you know.”

  He chuckled under his breath. “Nothing shameful about it, love. I know what I want, and I go after it. Can you say the same?”

  He had me there. I had a tough exterior, but underneath the shell, I was soft and gooey. It hadn’t taken much for me to fall apart and run away when Dean rejected me. A little heartbreak had never stopped me before, so why now?

  This time is different, a little voice in the back of my mind whispered.

  “What do you want, Josie?” Gabe asked, lowering his lips to my ear. “Find your deepest, darkest desire and make it come true. No fear.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, my gaze slammed into Dean’s, and I sucked in a sharp breath. He looked pissed. Actually, he looked more than pissed. His lips were tight, the vein in his forehead practically throbbing. If we were talking about deep and dark desires, then what I wanted was for Dean Hayes to—

  “I can help you find out,” Gabe murmured, his words bringing me right out of my lusty thoughts and back into the present where I was currently in the arms of a slimeball.

  “You can’t help me find anything,” I snapped, trying to pull away from him.

  “Can I cut in?”

  We glanced to the side as Dean appeared out of nowhere. His stormy gaze was locked on mine, and he never once acknowledged Gabe as he shoved his arm between us and claimed me for his own.

  The whole motion had caveman written all over it. He was seriously a hair’s breadth from clubbing me over the head as his left hand slipped around my waist and his right held onto mine. His shoulders were tense as he jerked me against his body and began moving us back and forth to the delicate music filtering around us. Talk about a stark contrast.

  “Sure thing, man,” Gabe declared, holding his hands up in defeat. As he backed off, he gave me one last wink, and then he was gone.

  “Dean, look…” I began, attempting to explain why I was consorting with the enemy.

  “What did O’Connell say to you?” he asked, looking displeased.

  “He told me he spoke to Lincoln earlier,” I said, leaving out about a million other things he’d mentioned. “He’s challenged him for the title.”

  Dean didn’t look happy about that, either. “He told him in person? Tonight?”

  “It’ll be official tomorrow,” I added.

  “He had to dance with you to tell you that?”

  “Let it go, Dean,” I replied.

  He grunted, and his hand slipped lower on my back. I was beginning to become overly aware of our current embrace, and it had nothing to do with decorum in the slightest.

  “You’re dancing,” I said, my eyes widening.

  He smirked, tension bleeding from his shoulders, and he spun me around. “So?”

  “I’m surprised. Like, genuinely surprised,” I said as he tightened his grip on my hand.

  His lips pulled up in one corner. “That I’d make an effort?”

  “Last time, you looked like you were in agony.”

  “I was.”

  I smiled, not knowing if I should run or let this play out.

  “What changed?” I asked, choosing the latter.

  His chest rose as he sucked in a deep breath. Lowering his gaze, he seemed to savor his response before letting me hear it. He was having too good a time with the anticipation for my liking.

  Finally, he murmured, “My eyes were opened.”

  My heart leapt. “Dean…”

  Before I could say any more, he let go of my waist and tugged me from the dance floor. His grip was like steel as he led me across the ballroom, through the crowd, and off to the side.

  “Dean,” I said, almost falling ass over tit in my sky-high heels. “What are you doing?”

  He pushed through a side door, and we emerged into a hall that was devoid of life. At the realization he was looking for a darkened corner, I began to tremble, my gaze darting to and fro, trying to find a way out. I’d wanted this, but now it kind of terrified me. It was a line I was willing to cross a week ago, but now? I wasn’t sure it was such a great idea.

  Dean wasn’t listening to my pleas. He was too intent on his path to stop and hear me. Finally, he found a quiet corner away from the commotion of the Gala, and he tugged me into the little alcove, pinning me against the wall.

  Trapped.

  “I wanted… I wanted to make this night special for you, but I can’t hold back anymore. You’re not listening. I need you to listen, Jo.” His hands cupped my face, and I froze, completely under his spell. “I made a mistake.”

  “What?” My heart sank. He wanted to sweep my off my feet and now… He was regretting it?

  He lowered his head until our eyes were level. “I should never have pushed you away.”

  There was a split second where time stood still, where the world stopped turning and it was just him and me. Then he claimed me in a blaze of heat, his mouth moving desperately against my own, and all the walls I’d put into place just disintegrated. My willpower was totally shot.

  I threw my arms around his neck and parted my lips, thrusting my tongue against his. I just let go and poured every last drop of my lust, longing, and anguish into our embrace, and I let the doubts fade away. He matched me stroke for stroke, his touch as fevered as mine.

  The floodgates had opened, and we’d let out a tsunami.

  Not breaking away from our kiss once, he bunched my skirt up, and I threw my leg around his waist, holding him against me. One hand hooked around my knee, holding me open, and his other hand traced a path along my inner thigh until his fingers brushed over the silk finish of my bikini briefs…right over the sweet spot.

  I didn’t do a thing to stop him as he pushed the material aside and slid a finger through my wetness. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I arched into him, wanting more.

  “You’re so wet,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine.

  I didn’t want to hear him speak a single word. I didn’t want him to whisper dirty things into my ear. I just wanted him to end my suffering.

  Forcing my mouth against his, I kissed him deeply, and as his tongue thrust against mine, he plunged a thick finger inside me. The sudden invasion caused my back to arch, and I pushed my breasts against his chest.

  This time, he was the one moaning into my mouth as he slid a second finger in with the first, exploring every inch of me. We moved against one another, dangerously close to giving away our secret corner with our desperate panting. He wasn’t concerned with himself as he focused on me, only grinding his hardening crotch against my hip as he pleasured me.

  I rode his hand, his mouth muffling my cries as my orgasm rose in unbearable waves. Nothing else mattered but the release from the feelings I’d been bottling up for the last few weeks. This was exactly how I imagined it would be that morning in the gym. This was what I’d wanted when I’d taken the plunge and straddled him. Him in me—however I could get him.

  Dean’s palm circled faster as he sensed my building pleasure, and he pressed firmly against my clit. All too soon, my body let go. I came on his hand, my walls tightening around his fingers, quivering as wave after wave hit me. He didn’t slow his movements at all. If anything, he went harder and faster, drawing out my orgasm as long as he could.

  Shit. He was good. Very good. He knew what women wanted and how to give it to them. Damn.

  My knee buckled as I came down from my high, and Dean pressed forward, using his body to anchor mine against the wall. His cock was hard against my sensitive clit, his eyes hooded with unmasked desire, and I began to panic. I had no bloody idea where it came from, but I felt the overwhelming need to get out of there.

  “Jo,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine.

  My chest heaved, the air thick with the scent of what he’d just done to me, and I pushed him back. He let go of my leg, and I stood on my own tw
o feet and smoothed my dress down.

  “Jo,” he said again, his eyes beginning to fill with panic.

  I stared at him, not knowing what to do. He’d just… He’d just given me an orgasm at a charity event that meant a great to him and me. He knew how much I valued my professionalism in the male dominated industry of MMA. I didn’t let guys like him fuck me so I could get ahead. I was here because of my ability as a damn fine PR rep.

  I knew I was overreacting, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  Raising my hand, I slapped him, my palm connecting with his cheek with a crack.

  “What was that for?” he exclaimed, palming his cheek.

  “How dare you!” I seethed, wishing I knew how to throw a punch that wouldn’t result in a broken hand.

  “You didn’t complain, Jo,” he said, his eyes darkening. “If you didn’t want this, you could’ve said no.”

  My mouth flapped uselessly. He was right, but I was mad, embarrassed, and most of all, I was still ashamed over my reaction last weekend. The reaction that resulted in me trying to get back into bed with Hamish and almost sealing the deal with Dean’s archenemy, Gabe O’Connell.

  So, I did the bitchiest thing I could think of. I shifted the blame for my bad life choices onto Dean.

  “Are you still hung up on her?” I demanded.

  “Who? Monica?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “As of a week ago, you were telling me how you didn’t know how to let go of your feelings for her. And suddenly, you’re telling me everything I want to hear. Forgive me if I’m wary, Dean.”

  “Jo…”

  He didn’t deny it, and he didn’t try to ease my mind, either. I was being a horrible person, but I’d uncovered his dirty little secret in the process.

  “I can’t believe you,” I hissed and turned on my heel, flipping the train of my dress around so I wouldn’t trip and fall on my ass.

  Fuck my life. It was just one bad decision after another. I couldn’t believe I just let him finger me to orgasm—the man I wanted to love and the man who still couldn’t let go of another woman.

  I was worth more than that. I had to be.

  12

  Dean

  I could feel the lingering sting of Josie’s hand on my cheek and couldn’t believe she’d slapped me.

  What the fuck was she so afraid of?

  She’d been so wet, so responsive, so beautiful, and I knew I wanted her. Not like I’d wanted Monica, never like that, but I wanted her more. I wanted more. With Josie. She made me feel like I could be more than just a fighter. The moment I kissed her, it felt like the world opened up and we could do anything.

  More, more, more, more.

  It was right.

  I don’t know how long I stood there in a daze, staring at the empty space Josie had left behind. Muttering under my breath, I straightened my jacket and ran the back of my hand across my mouth.

  Striding down the hall, I ventured back into the ballroom searching for her.

  Lincoln was lingering just inside the door and caught my arm as I went to walk by.

  “Hey,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

  I shook him off, annoyed at the interruption, and raked my gaze over the room. That’s when I saw her being swept into another man’s arms. Josie Cunningham was being held by someone else moments after I’d given her relief on my hand. My hand, which she’d ridden without complaint and with a whole lot of enthusiasm.

  I snarled when I realized who had stepped in and was trying to be a white knight. The same asshole who had tried to steal her from me once before.

  Gabe O’Connell.

  I could see it now. She’d pushed me away because she was interested in him. He had his hands all over her.

  She didn’t know the fucked up things he’d said to me in the octagon. She didn’t know who he was and how he planned to take advantage of her. She didn’t know.

  “Dean,” Lincoln said from beside me in warning. “Don’t you even think about it.”

  No way in hell was I listening to reason when another man’s hands were on my Jo.

  My scowl deepened into full-blown rage as I strode across the ballroom and fisted my hand into the front of O’Connell’s shirt.

  Josie stumbled to the side, shock plastered on her beautiful face, but all I could see was O’Connell’s smirk of triumph.

  “Told you so,” he declared smugly, and that’s all it took for me to snap.

  Raising my fist, I slammed it into his face as hard as I could. There was a collective gasp from the crowd as he fell to the floor, his hand grasping his jaw.

  “What are you doing?” Josie shrieked as I stood over Gabe.

  He didn’t care. He was laughing his ass off even after I’d laid him out.

  “He deserves everything he gets,” I snarled as Lincoln appeared beside me and shoved me away as Gabe scrambled to his feet. “He’s a real piece of work.”

  “I think you better leave,” Linc said as two security guards appeared looking just as pissed as I felt.

  There’d be killer headlines in the papers tomorrow. Not to mention blowback from the AUFC and Tightrope. My hole was getting bigger and bigger by the moment, and soon, it’d be so deep I wouldn’t be able to reach the top to lift myself out.

  I glanced at Josie and couldn’t even register the fury in her eyes. Reaching for her, I grasped her wrist and yanked, guiding her from the ballroom for the second time that night. She didn’t have a choice as I dragged her through the assembled guests and past a scandalized Jasmine Cutter, General Director of one of the biggest sporting charities in the country.

  I’d be paying for this for a long time to come, but the only person I gave a fuck about was Josie Cunningham.

  We emerged outside onto the street, and thankfully, the media had already cleared out. Otherwise, it’d be another thing on a long list of fuck ups.

  “What is wrong with you?” Josie yelled at me as I let her go.

  “Gabe O’Connell?” I asked, turning to face her.

  “You punched him in front of everyone!” she shrieked. “You fucked up so bad! Do you understand what this is going to cost you?”

  “Do you know what he said to me in the octagon?” I asked. “Do you understand why he KO’d me?”

  She hesitated, some of the anger fading from her eyes. “What do you mean? What’s that got to do with…”

  I hissed through my teeth and turned away from her, running my hand over my face.

  “Dean,” she commanded, but I didn’t reply. “Tell me what he said.”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” she declared, waving her hand at me.

  Glancing at her, I wasn’t sure about her meaning. Had he already tried to force her into doing something she didn’t want? Something more than offering her a job? Was that why she kept pushing me away? Had he put his hands on her like I just did? The thought made me sick.

  “What did he do to you?” I asked, wanting to know once and for all if her heart was in it.

  She bit her bottom lip and rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t have to have done anything to me. Just one look at the guy and you can see the arrogance dripping off him like slime. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “Then why did you go to him?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You think I went to him? He keeps harassing me!”

  Then he hadn’t touched her… I didn’t know if I should be relieved or not.

  “Tell me what to do, Jo,” I pleaded. “Tell me what I have to do to make you see.”

  “Nothing,” she hissed. “Do nothing.”

  “I can’t do nothing!” I wanted her, I wanted her, I wanted her.

  “Dean, just stop,” she cried, beating her fists against my chest as I stepped into her.

  “I can’t stop,” I practically growled. “You’re still not listening to me!”

  “I’m not deaf,” she snapped. “I can hear you perfectly fine.”

  “It’s
not that easy, Jo,” I hissed. “Ten years! That’s how long I was hung up on a worthless crush! I can’t just let go, no matter how much I want to!”

  “So you’re saying that…” She swallowed hard and jabbed a finger back at the venue we’d just left behind. “What we did before was just a bit of harmless fun?”

  “No,” I shot back immediately. “Never.”

  “Then what was it, huh?”

  I grasped her face, trying my hardest to keep my expression cool, calm, and collected while hers was full of wild, unharnessed rage. Before I lost her for good, I captured her in a kiss, my lips soft against hers. Before, my touch had been firm and controlling, but now… I worshiped.

  I poured everything I couldn’t find words for into that kiss and held on for dear life, hoping to fucking God she understood.

  When she kissed me back, I lowered my hands and wrapped my arms around her, holding her body tightly against me. Her tongue danced with mine, dousing the fire of our argument, and I hoped…

  Pulling away as she melted against me, I sighed in contentment. Jo was in my arms…listening. She stared up at me with wide eyes, entirely lost for words, which was an achievement for someone who always had so many.

  “I’m going to fuck up,” I murmured. “I’m going to hesitate. I’m going to be a dumb asshole. I don’t know how to do this, so you’re going to have to cut me some slack here, Jo.”

  She drew in a shaky breath, her eyes misting with tears.

  “I’m here,” I whispered, brushing my hands along the curve of her spine. “I’m finally here. Are you with me?”

  Her blue eyes stared into mine as she silently deliberated. I waited as patiently as I could, knowing if I forced her, it could mean all the difference.

  Finally, she blinked, her palms running over my chest and cupping my face.

  “Yes.”

  13

  Josie

  Sliding into the back of a taxi, I pressed against Dean’s side and flipped the train of my skirt in behind me.

  This was the last place I’d expected to end up tonight. A lot of things had gone down that neither of us had foreseen, and who knew what would happen once the sun rose. If it rose at all. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to sleep with Dean Hayes, right now.