Extreme Love

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Extreme Love Page 21

by Abby Niles


  “How can you make putting on a condom erotic?” he gritted out.

  Pink stained her checks as she straddled his hips once again. “I read that once in a dirty book. With you I can do the things I’ve read about. I like it.”

  Masculine satisfaction spread through him. He was the first. Yes, she’d had other lovers. In the dark. But he’d shown her the pleasure of true lovemaking. And no other man would ever have the honor.

  She took him into her hand and positioned him. The pressure of her palm made him groan. “Do not move your hand.”

  If she did, he’d spill himself right now. She chuckled and he growled in response. She was enjoying this a little too much. Her warm heat encircled the tip of his shaft before she stopped.

  “Caitlyn,” he moaned, desperate to drive into her. To end the agony that gripped him.

  “Shh, patience,” she said, placing her hands on either side of his head as she lowered herself with excruciating slowness.

  Captivated by her movements, Dante watched, his breathing quickening.

  “Hmm…” She closed her eyes, sighing in pure ecstasy.

  Fisting the bedspread, he inhaled between clenched teeth. She lifted only to take him back in at the same sluggish speed. Inches from his lips, hers parted in a silent gasp.

  “God, Caitlyn. You’re gorgeous,” he croaked.

  Her eyes opened. Desire heavy in her gaze. “And you’re all man.”

  She picked up the pace. Up and down in quick succession. Dante helped her, the coil low in his stomach ready to explode. He gritted his teeth, his gasps harsh. He would not come until she did. And she was close. Her tight center gripped him, her movements desperate. He moved his hand between her legs, circling the swollen nub. Caitlyn gasped and thrust down. “Dante!”

  He pressed harder, needing her release now, unable to hold his back any longer. She sat straight, her fingers digging into his chest, and she tensed. “Oh, God.”

  As soon as she squeezed around him and shuddered, he let go. Using her hips as leverage, he pumped into her, her body milking him as he groaned through his orgasm.

  Shuddering once more, she collapsed onto his chest. Their ragged panting danced in the air. Caitlyn nestled her head into his neck and he wrapped his arms around her sweat-coated body. They lay like that, neither moving, still joined, enjoying the exquisite aftermath of mind-blowing sex. At least he was.

  “God, I can’t even find a word to describe what we just did.”

  He chuckled. “I was just thinking ‘mind-blowing.’ ”

  “Hmm. I like that.”

  As he feathered kisses along her face and shoulders, he rolled them onto their sides. When she caressed his cheek with her hand, he glanced up. The warmth in her eyes stopped his heart.

  “You’re good for me, Dante.”

  His chest expanded. Emotions clogged his throat. Unable to speak, he kissed her. She responded with such trust and adoration, love flooded through him.

  “I love you.” The words spilled out against her mouth. And he knew at once he’d made a huge mistake.

  Her lips stilled, her body tensed, then she shoved away from him. “Damn it, Dante.”

  She jumped out of bed and grabbed her clothes, yanking them on with jerky movements.

  The pure fury she sent his way froze him. Did she truly not feel the same way? It wasn’t possible he felt this way about this woman and she didn’t return it.

  “Damn it, Caitlyn, that wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for.” He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but he couldn’t. It rang loud and clear.

  “Why do you rush everything? Haven’t you heard of taking things slow?”

  He sat up. The pain of her not saying she loved him back was nothing compared to those words. He loved her, wanted to openly love her. How was that rushing?

  “Why couldn’t we just enjoy each other? Take our time and see where things went? Why did you have to bring feelings into it?”

  Enjoy each other? Anger replaced the pain as her words hit him full force in the gut. He shot to his feet and yanked on his jeans. “What is this week to you? Some kind of sex fest? If that’s what you want, then you’re fucking the wrong man. I made it clear sex wasn’t what I wanted.”

  She flinched but he wouldn’t back down. Everything he said was true.

  “I don’t want just sex either.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  The anger eased from her. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? Well, isn’t that just peachy keen.”

  She dropped her gaze to the floor.

  “Look at me.”

  She kept her gaze averted.

  “The least you can do is have the guts to look at me when you reject me. You’ve had no problem with that in the past.”

  She finally met his gaze. Tears brightened her eyes. Remorse?

  “Dante, I care for you, immensely, but your career scares the hell out of me. All I wanted was to get through this week, see the fight, and make sure I could accept the violence. Why couldn’t you give me that?”

  “So this week was a test? You were going to dump me if the week didn’t meet your fucked-up expectations?”

  She swallowed, but held his gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for believing you deserve someone who can accept all of you, Dante.”

  “What I deserve is to be loved by the woman I love.”

  “I didn’t know you loved me,” she said in a tortured whisper.

  He stormed past her to the picture window overlooking the Vegas Strip. She hadn’t known he loved her. What a load of shit. He might not have said the words, but no man chased a woman for as long as he had without feelings involved.

  “Damn it,” she muttered from behind him.

  He spun to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, cupping her head in her hands.

  He glared at her. “I’ve never told a woman I loved her. Never. I finally do and what do I get in return? A woman who doesn’t know.”

  Caitlyn lifted her head. “I’m trying to be honest, Dante.”

  He needed to get out of here, needed to think. He walked toward the door, hoping she’d call him back. When he grabbed the knob and she still hadn’t said a word, he turned. She hadn’t moved.

  “You know something, Caitlyn? Going out with Sentori to get me refocused was a waste of your time. This is the biggest distraction ever thrown at me. Thanks for that.”

  He stomped out the door.

  Dante kicked the bag once more. The leather swung high into the air then spun as it slowed. Over the last hour, his anger still churned in his chest.

  What was he supposed to do now?

  He sure as hell couldn’t pretend he hadn’t said the words. He had and he meant them, with his whole heart. How was he supposed to go back up there and lay in the same bed with her, knowing she didn’t feel the same?

  He punched the bag with a left hook, the loud pop echoing in the hotel’s gym. He ran his forearm across his sweaty forehead.

  She was terrified of his career. Man, if that didn’t burn. Fighting was a huge part of him. Of all the women he could have fallen in love with, it had to be the one woman who despised his sport. What were the fucking odds?

  He ripped off his gloves and wraps.

  “What’s Miss Piggy up to?”

  Dante spun. “Get the fuck out of here, Sentori. I don’t have time to deal with you.”

  His opponent stepped closer. “Man, she really puts the oink in boink, doesn’t she?”

  Without thinking, Dante swung out with a right hook. Sentori dodged, then grabbed Dante around the waist, took him to the ground and pinned his arms down.

  “Break it up!” Mike yelled as the sound of running feet came toward them.

  Sentori sprawled across Dante’s chest, his weight bearing down on him. Dante bucked and twisted, but Sentori held on as if Dante were a kitten instead of a raging inferno. He bent close to Dante’s ear. “This is just a taste of what will happen tomorrow night. Did
you see, feel, how easy it was for me to take you down?”

  Dante shifted. His opponent’s weight lifted as Mike pushed him back. “That’s enough. Get the hell out of here, Richard.”

  Sentori sneered. “I’m not the only one you have to worry about. Your girlfriend was in the lobby, suitcase in hand. Can’t keep her satisfied?”

  Sentori chuckled before sauntering out of the gym.

  What the hell did Sentori mean?

  Dante shoved past Mike and sprinted from the room, forgoing the elevator and taking the stairs two at a time. Once he got to the right floor, he ran to the room and glanced around.

  Gone. Not a trace of her. Not even a goddamned note.

  She’d made her decision.

  She’d left him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cait aimlessly walked around the busy Vegas Strip. A little over an hour and a half ago, Dante had stormed from their room. She’d been left with deafening silence and the horror of what she’d done—what she’d said.

  How had it gone so wrong?

  She’d enjoyed every minute of this trip with him. Every. Single. Minute.

  Over the last few days, she’d started to wonder what a future with Dante would be like. The whole package. Love. Marriage. Kids. But a future with Dante wouldn’t just those three things. The MMA came with him.

  The people who surrounded him no longer mattered. She’d put that fear to rest days ago. Yeah, there were some bad apples like Amanda and Sentori, but for the most part everyone she’d met had been warm and welcoming.

  The problem was he willingly entered a cage and put himself in harm’s way. And the brutality hung over her head like a dark ominous cloud, terrifying her that come Saturday, no matter what she felt for him, watching him take a beating, possibly hearing a bone snap, would be too much for her to handle.

  She’d wanted to embrace everything about Dante, give herself over to him completely, with no hesitation or distaste over what he did for living. She’d wanted to accept all of him.

  Dante deserved a woman who loved every aspect of him, especially his sport. A woman who would stand in his corner and be the image of love and support when the cameras panned to her. Not a woman cringing in horror. If she couldn’t give him that, she didn’t deserve him, and she’d been willing to walk away if she couldn’t make it through his match.

  But Dante had changed everything with three beautiful words.

  Words she hadn’t found beautiful at that time but had induced a panic so overwhelming she’d reacted without thought. She hugged herself tight as she remembered those expressive blue eyes of his shattering in pain. Pain, because all he’d wanted from her was her love.

  She wished she could rewind time to when she and Dante had been wrapped in an embrace, enjoying the aftermath of their lovemaking. When he’d said those three precious words. Unfortunately, hindsight wouldn’t transport her back to fix her stupid response.

  But she wasn’t stupid any longer. She loved Dante.

  As much as she fought to deny it or convince herself that she had to be perfect for him, it hadn’t stopped her heart from loving him. It’d taken the slamming of the door for her mind to accept what her heart had known. His leaving had brought forth a fiercer panic that terrified her more than his fighting ever had.

  He was gone.

  Amy’s warning, about not realizing what she could live with until she lost the one thing she couldn’t live without, finally made sense. Cait could live with the fighting. She couldn’t live without Dante Jones.

  Her realization might have come too late. She might have lost him, but she’d learned one thing from Dante since he’d come into her life: never go down without a fight.

  She’d give him time to cool down, let him blow off his anger and hurt on a bag.

  The MGM Grand towered in the distance, and she inhaled a calming breath as she squared her shoulders.

  She was going to win her man back.

  Cait quickened her pace. She was no more than a half a block down when she noticed a man striding toward her. Beefy. Tall. Determined. She tensed, but then he smiled and said, “You’re Dante’s girlfriend, right?”

  She relaxed. “Yes.”

  “I thought so. I’m Blake Prowler. I’ve seen you two around the last few days but haven’t had a chance to introduce myself.” He offered his hand.

  Blake Prowler. She’d never heard Dante mention him. She took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Blake.”

  A black car pulled up beside them. The back door opened and before she could say a word, Blake had latched onto her upper arm and shoved her into the car beside another burly guy.

  “What the hell?” She immediately tried to climb out, but the other guy grabbed her around the waist and yanked her back as Blake slipped in beside her and closed the door. The car sped off.

  “Let me out!”

  Blake shot her an annoyed look, replacing the charming man he’d been seconds before. “Chill. You’re safe. We’re just going on a little trip.”

  Caitlyn sat rigidly on the couch, arms crossed tight over her chest, foot shaking with building fury as she glared at the three goons who were watching a movie on a large, flat-screen television hung over a marble fireplace.

  Since Blake had told her they were going on a little trip, which had been a fifteen-minute drive to a wealthy gated community, they hadn’t spoken one word to her, other than to laugh at her feeble attempts at escape. The big bullies. Anytime she’d tried to run, a massive, muscular arm would wrap around her waist then chuck her back on the couch. After the fifth time her tush had bounced on the expensive leather cushions, she’d taken to glowering at the thugs. Like they even noticed.

  “This is kidnapping, you know.”

  “Technically it’s an intervention,” a deep voice came from her left.

  Sentori stood in the doorway between the living room and gourmet kitchen, with a smirk on his face and newly dyed purple hair.

  “You!” She launched herself across the room. Not five feet later, a beefy appendage scooped her up again and dropped her back on the couch. Furious, she blew her hair off her face. “Screw you, asshole.”

  Blake had the audacity to chuckle as he went to sit down.

  “Welcome to my humble abode, Caitlyn. Isn’t it gorgeous? I bought it just a few months ago. I love Vegas and I’m thinking of relocating permanently. Atlanta has become such a drag.”

  “I should’ve known that this pretentious monstrosity of a house was yours.”

  Sentori laughed. “I really do bring out the worst in you, don’t I?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “What’s the point of taking me hostage?”

  “To fuck with Dante, of course.” He sat on the arm of the couch, leaning his elbows on one knee. “You see, I heard some disturbing gossip about Dante’s training. Everyone believes he’s going to beat me. I can’t let that happen, can I?”

  “So you’re going to make him worried sick about where I am?”

  “Oh, no. I don’t want the cops involved. I’d been wracking my brain trying to figure out what I could do to really fuck him up. Ya’ll have been so cozy and cute this week, I’d all but given up hope in using you.” He grinned. “But then there you were, storming through the lobby, crying. And Dante was nowhere to be found. I caught up with your man at the gym. The way he was hitting the bag was all the confirmation I needed that you two were fighting, and my plan was a go. I could never let a moment like this pass without really getting into his head.”

  “W-what did you do?”

  “Let’s just say Dante now knows who dominates this fight. But I have to keep the momentum going. A make-up session between you two wouldn’t help my cause. So I have to keep you two apart until after the match.”

  “How is this not going to involve the cops? When I don’t return or answer my phone since your goons took my purse, he’s going to worry.”

  His smile was cold and calculated. “Blake, go to my car. I have
a gift in the passenger seat for Caitlyn.”

  Blake went outside and returned a few moments later with a piece of luggage in his hand.

  A roaring filled her ears.

  Her luggage.

  “H-how?”

  “You underestimate my charm and conniving, Caitlyn. You should be impressed. Dante won’t be looking for you, because he’s going to believe you left him.”

  Dante thought she’d left. That he’d told her he loved her and she’d fled.

  “I hate you,” she whispered, nausea churning her stomach.

  He shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve heard that and it sure as hell won’t be the last.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get back to the hotel. The press conference is in an hour. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were getting settled in.”

  Yeah, she was sure that was exactly why he’d stopped by. He’d wanted to mess with her just as much as he wanted to mess with Dante. “Go to hell.”

  He tsked. “Such hostility and Dante kisses that filthy mouth.” He stood. “Blake, make sure she watches the conference and weigh-in. I don’t want her to miss a thing.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  She glared at Blake’s back.

  “You’re not even fighting tomorrow night, are you?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Nope.”

  Assholes. The whole lot of them.

  The door closed behind Sentori, and she was left with the significance of Sentori’s plan and all the weeks she’d pushed Dante away. When he returned to the room to find her clothes gone, he wouldn’t even be surprised. He’d assume she’d run from him again.

  Except this time she hadn’t. She’d gone for a walk to clear her thoughts. To prepare to fight for the man she loved.

  And he would believe she’d abandoned him—right before his fight.

  There was no way in hell that was happening. She would find a way back to Dante.

  “I need to go the bathroom.” Maybe there was a window she could crawl through.

  Blake stood, took her arm, and led her down a hallway. He opened a door to a half-bath the size of a closet. A toilet and sink but no windows. She sighed.

 

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