by Lori Foster
“Bullshit.” Barber looked more tired than riled. “No man would sit by while that jerk bullied you.”
Dakota laughed, because one man had: Barnaby. “You should have stayed out of it.”
Simon asked, “Should I stay out of it, too?”
“Yes.” Appalled at her raised voice, Dakota reined herself in. “For God’s sake, I don’t mean to yell, but this is ridiculous. We don’t even know for sure if it was Marvin. But if it was, I’ll take care of it.”
Simon tipped his head at her. “How?”
She flattened her mouth. “I don’t know yet. But I think maybe talking to the police is a good idea after all.” And talking to Barnaby was an even better idea. It seemed too much of a coincidence that both Barnaby and Marvin would reappear in her life at the same time. She had no idea what the connection might be, but once Barnaby knew she wouldn’t play, no matter what, he’d have no choice but to withdraw.
With both men staring at her, Dakota reseated herself. “Look, I’ll be extra cautious. I won’t take any chances. But there’s no point in either of you getting caught in the middle of the mess.”
Simon said, “I hope you’re joking.”
“She’s not,” Barber told him. “She’s worrying because someone tried to hurt me. She wants to protect me.”
“Huh.” Simon frowned. “That’s kind of insulting, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Like she thinks she can take better care of this stuff than I can.”
Dakota wanted to kick them both. “It’s not about who’s more macho, damn it. This is my problem, that’s all I’m saying.”
“No,” Simon said. “You’re not responsible for what your ex might do.”
“Then I’ll just go home.” Dakota reached for the coffeepot, found it empty, and slumped in disappointment. She needed more caffeine. “If I’m not here, the problems won’t be here. End of story.”
Ignoring most of what she’d said, Simon pointed out, “That was the second pot.”
“You’re keeping count?”
“Dakota does like her java.” Barber saluted Simon with his mug. “We have that in common.”
Simon nodded at the jelly jar on the table. “You both like your sugar, too.”
Because Simon’s kitchen didn’t boast any cookies or other sweet treats, she and Barber had chowed down several pieces of toast and jelly with their coffee.
Simon drank water.
His eating and drinking habits might be the biggest obstacle to her comfort when visiting him.
Dakota no sooner had that thought than Bonnie roused herself. She looked around the table at everyone. Except for her bloodshot eyes, she looked beautiful. She finger-combed her long, dark hair away from her face and over her shoulders. With determination bright in her expression, she stumbled over to stand by Simon’s chair.
Simon glanced up at her.
Barber looked over his coffee mug at her.
Dakota considered throwing the empty carafe at her.
Now that Bonnie had everyone’s attention, she pointed a finger at Dakota. “You’re des-pic-able.”
She barely got the word out, and Dakota yawned.
“Bonnie,” Simon warned. “Don’t start.”
Bonnie put a hand on his bare shoulder, either to caress him or to help balance herself. “Iz all right, Simon. She haz to know that you’re in trainin’ for a very important fight.”
Simon looked at Dakota, but said nothing.
Bonnie curled her lip in Dakota’s direction. “Gettin’ involved with someone like her jeopardizes everythin’ you’ve worked for.”
“Don’t worry about it, Bonnie.”
That’s it? Dakota thought. That was Simon’s idea of defending her? Not that she needed him to defend her, but he could have done a better job of it.
Dakota straightened in her chair.
Smoothing her hand over Simon’s shoulder to his neck, Bonnie began massaging him. “You need someone who understands wha’ you do.”
“Dakota understands.” He smiled at her. “Don’t you, honey?”
Dakota’s eyes narrowed. She’d about had enough of Bonnie.
“If she understood,” Bonnie insisted, “she wouldn’t be here.”
“I invited her.”
Dakota could feel Barber’s amusement, the jerk.
“You’re a man,” Bonnie declared, excusing Simon of any responsibility. “But you barely know her. It iz incredible that she woul’ spen’ the night with you already.”
Barber choked on his coffee, wheezed for breath, and coughed out a loud, obviously forced, laugh.
With the precision of a laser beam, Bonnie’s gaze drilled into him. “And just what iz so funny?”
“Oh, come on, darlin’. You don’t see the irony of you playing judge and jury?”
Bonnie drew herself up to her full height. “I see nothin’ humorous in thiz situation at all.”
As if he mourned the loss of a fine attribute, Barber muttered, “And to think I used to be such a gentleman.” He met Bonnie’s gaze. “All right, doll, let me point out the obvious.”
“I don’ see—”
“You and I just met today, but you were headed home with me. And it sure as hell wasn’t to play checkers.”
Watching Simon, Dakota saw his expression of boredom.
Through gritted teeth, Bonnie said, “Everyone here knows tha’ I’m drunk.”
“But you weren’t when you agreed to my offer.” Barber eyed her head to toe. “It was your impatience in waiting for the monumental moment that drove ya to imbibe, my sweet.”
Bonnie gasped.
Lounging back in his seat, Barber stretched out his long legs and laced his fingers over his abdomen. “Not that I blame you, me being such a treat and all.”
Bonnie snatched up Simon’s water glass. She would have thrown it if Simon hadn’t caught her in time.
Dakota snickered.
And Bonnie swung around on her so quickly that she lost her balance and Simon had to catch her. She ended up in Simon’s lap—and made herself at home very quickly.
With her arms tight around Simon’s neck, Bonnie said, “You bitch, how dare you?”
Name calling? And still in Simon’s lap? Slowly, while staring at Bonnie, Dakota smiled—and stood.
Simon stood, too, setting Bonnie on her feet at his other side, safely away from Dakota. “That’s enough.” Then to Barber, “It’s time for you two to go.”
“I’ll call a cab.”
“Not until you’ve gotten Bonnie home.”
Barber looked up at the ceiling. “Will the trials of this day never end?”
“Forgit it,” Bonnie insisted. “I’m sober ’nuff to drive myself.”
Neither man agreed.
While Simon and Barber convinced Bonnie, Dakota went back to the bedroom to wash up and finish dressing properly. She needed to go see Barnaby. She needed to settle things with him before someone got hurt.
She needed to protect her friends, and herself, from Marvin.
By the time Simon got rid of his guests, Dakota was ready to go. He closed the front door, turned, and almost ran into her.
One look at her and he asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“It’s almost morning.” She didn’t feel like smiling, but did so anyway. “With everything we know now, I have a lot of decisions to make.”
To her surprise, he bent and kissed her.
Dakota yanked back. “And I’m not tired anymore.”
He kissed her again, his mouth open, hot.
Her knees went weak. “Simon? What are you doing?”
“Convincing you to stay.” He caught the shoulders of her coat and eased it off her.
She started to tell him what he could do with that idea, but he kissed her again, and her thoughts scattered.
It took her a little longer to remember she was mad about Bonnie, and that she needed to talk to Barnaby, and…
When her coat hit the floor, Dakota recalled herself an
d pushed Simon back, not hard, but not really easy either. “I don’t see why I should—”
“Come with me.” He caught a fistful of her sweatshirt and tugged her toward the bathroom.
“Wait a damn minute!”
“Why?” In the bathroom, Simon released her and picked up his toothbrush. “I need to freshen up so I can kiss you properly.”
Dakota stared at him.
He brushed with enthusiasm, and glanced at her askance. “What?” he asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.
“I don’t understand you.”
“Which part, honey?”
She shook her head.
“The kissing part?” He spit in the sink and rinsed his mouth.
Dakota had never watched a man brush his teeth. Not even Marvin or her father, definitely not Barnaby. It felt oddly intimate.
Simon grabbed up the hand towel, dried his mouth, and grinned at her. “By properly, I mean really deep and wet and…”
Turning in a rush, Dakota grabbed for the doorknob. The door had barely opened when Simon’s hand landed flat against it and slammed it shut.
Her heart shot into her throat and her brain scrambled to find the right words. Simon crowded in close to her back.
When he said near her ear, “You okay?” she could smell the toothpaste on his breath.
Still grappling with the meaning behind his actions, she asked, “What do you mean?”
Gentle, light, and in no way threatening, his free hand slipped around and opened over her belly. “I’m not scaring you?”
He had a little at first, but his concern took care of that. To brazen through the moment, she said, “No,” and sent her elbow back hard, gouging his abdomen.
It felt like she’d run her arm into a wall. Simon barely grunted.
“Good. I don’t ever want you to be afraid. Not of me, not of anyone.”
His voice was so warm and compelling that Dakota had to force herself to remember that she was annoyed with him. “Let me out of here, Simon.”
“Soon as I apologize.” His palm pressed more firmly against her. “And then maybe you’ll let me kiss you the way I want to.”
Her attention wavered between the warmth of his touch and the promise in his words. “Apologize? For what?”
“For making you jealous.”
“I wasn’t!” She tried to turn, but Simon held her in place.
He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear. “If you can’t admit it—”
“Can’t?” Again, she struggled against him.
“Can’t, won’t.” He nibbled on her earlobe. “You see, if you don’t go first, then how am I supposed to admit how much it bugged me to see you and Barber acting so damned cozy?”
She went still.
Simon smiled as he explained, “Bonnie kept looking at me as if I were her last meal, and you didn’t even care. You were too busy sharing coffee and food with Barber.”
Dakota could feel Simon all along her back. Hot. Powerful.
Wonderful.
All this teasing mixed with seduction put her way out of her element. “It sounds to me like you were the jealous one.”
“Yeah.” His fingers contracted on her belly, gently caressing. He pressed a damp kiss to her nape. “Barber’s okay. I like how he defends you, and I’m glad he was there for you when you needed him. But it pisses me off that he wants you.”
How asinine. “He doesn’t.”
“Yeah.” Simon turned her to face him, and he looked very serious. “He does.”
“No—”
He took her mouth again, deeper this time, just as he’d said he would. But he didn’t lean into her, didn’t smother her with his closeness.
He scooped his hand down to cuddle her bottom. It was the oddest feeling to Dakota, to have a man kneading her derrière and groaning softly about it. It was Simon’s reaction to touching her more than the touch itself that excited her.
“Damn, Dakota.” He put his forehead to hers. “Mallet wants you, too, you know.”
She started to roll her eyes—and his hand came around to wedge between her thighs. Her breath hitched, her heart skipped a beat, and a wave of heat rushed through her.
Simon looked at her, gauging her reaction, and Dakota tried to be blank, to show no emotion so that he wouldn’t stop.
He searched her face, then smiled, and Dakota knew that he was schooled enough to see the difference between fear and arousal.
She was flushed, breathing hard and fast. But she couldn’t help it.
“You are so damned sexy,” he murmured.
Vanity niggled at her comfort zone. “I’m all banged up.”
“I know.” Simon kissed her bruised forehead, the bridge of her nose, the deep scratch on her cheek. “Whoever did this to you, Marvin or someone else, I’d like to find him and stomp his sorry ass into the ground.”
The meaning of the words, and the gentle way Simon said them, left Dakota floundering. He sounded seductive, caring, and furious, all at the same time.
Her eyes were about to close when Simon said, “Let’s get in the hot tub to…ease your sore muscles.”
With his hand still between her thighs, just pressed against her, not really moving, Dakota assumed he had a lot more in mind than merely easing her muscles.
She swallowed, nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Okay.”
Grinning, happy and teasing her, Simon kissed her again. “Bonnie means nothing to me.”
Dakota did not want to talk about Bonnie. “If you say so.”
“I do. And you can always trust me.” He moved his fingers, and it was like a jolt of sensation that ebbed out to every inch of her body. He stilled again. “Dakota? I want to do more than soak in the hot tub.”
God, he made her crazy. “Yeah, Simon, I figured as much.”
His cheek brushed hers as he kissed the side of her throat, her shoulder, under her chin. “You’re okay?”
Dakota couldn’t help it; she laughed. “I would be a lot better if you’d shut up and get on with it.”
He leaned back to see her, and Dakota said, “I’m not a shy woman, Simon. I won’t suffer in silence. If you do anything I don’t like, trust me, you’ll hear about it.”
“And if I do things you like?”
She sighed. “I imagine you’ll hear about those, too.”
“Perfect.” He took her hand. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 13
A high wooden privacy fence with the gate locked kept the hot tub hidden from the yard. The house gave the only access, and the doors were all secured. They were alone, and Simon had hours before he had to pack for his trip to Vegas.
There were so many things he wanted to do with Dakota, but the number-one thing on his list was to give her pleasure. He wanted her to know that sex with him would never be anything but good. Men were easy—just seeing a desirable woman could put most near the edge. He was there now, aware of Dakota standing beside him, her arms around herself to ward off the early morning chill as he uncovered the hot tub and turned it on. From the second she’d agreed, he had a boner.
But Simon wasn’t a boy. He was thirty-one years old, and he knew women, knew how complicated and elusive an orgasm could be for a woman.
For someone who’d been sexually abused, it’d be an especially tricky business because there was much to overcome, and old expectations didn’t die easily.
For someone like Dakota, with her strong personality and strength of will, the past would play an even bigger role. More than anyone else ever could, she condemned herself for past mistakes. It’d take finesse, experience, and a little faith to ease her past her false impressions and apprehension.
When Simon first realized that she’d kept her last name as a sort of punishment, a constant reminder that she had erred in judgment, he knew he’d have his work cut out for him. Dakota caught a lot of flack on the name. And granted, Dakota Dream did ring of a suggestive stage handle.
But she could change it easily enough, if she only would.
>
He’d work on that, along with giving her pleasure.
Though Simon wore only boxers, he barely noticed the weather. Dakota was still fully dressed and shivering as the hot tub churned and steam rose into the air.
Heart thumping and muscles tight, Simon turned to her. “You need to skin out of some of those clothes.”
“Yeah, I know.” But she stood there, watching him.
Pretending that it meant nothing, Simon stepped up to her and caught the waistband of her jeans. While he unsnapped and unzipped, he talked to distract her.
“At the gym, I’ve seen you taking notes.”
Dakota blinked at him, trying to hide her nervousness. “Notes?”
“Yeah. When you’re watching me.” He eased his hands into the pants and, fingers spread, cupped her hips. God almighty, she was soft and well rounded. Simon swallowed down the surge of lust. “What the hell do you write?”
She looked at him, then at the hot tub and down at herself. “Uh…”
“Training tips on things you think I’m doing wrong?” As he said it, he shoved the jeans down to her knees.
“No,” she said on a high note. And then: “Don’t be stupid.”
“Sorry.” He grinned at her reaction to having her pants down. “So what is it, then?”
She licked her lips as if trying to gather her thoughts. “I write down stuff I see that I think maybe I can learn. Stuff that’d be good to know.”
Simon absorbed that, and nodded. Going to one knee, he held the jeans and said, “Step out.”
Dakota braced a hand on his shoulder and did as he asked.
She wore thick white socks, and again, he noted her legs, lightly muscled, shapely and smooth.
A T-shirt, panties, and crew socks. Not exactly an outfit meant to seduce, except that this was Dakota, and he was on fire for her.
He lifted her left foot. “I could spar with you, you know.”
“Forget it.” Her fingers tightened on his shoulder and her voice rose an octave. “You’re in training. You need to train.”
“All right, then.” It choked him to say it, but he offered, “Dean, then.”
“Ha! Hell, no.”
What did she have against Dean? Or was it just that he was male, and therefore getting physical with him didn’t appeal to her?