by Lori Foster
Given that he didn’t really want her to be physical with any man except him, Simon couldn’t fault her for that.
Lifting her other foot to remove that sock, too, Simon said, “I want you to be confident in your skills, honey.”
“I am. That is, I’m learning.”
“You’re smart, Dakota.” He stood, and now she wore only a T-shirt and panties. It made him nuts. “You know more about the sport than any other woman I’ve met.”
“I love it.”
She no longer looked so cold. Her shivering had subsided and she had a warm flush to her skin just barely visible in the shadows of the privacy fence.
But her nipples were hard, and Simon couldn’t seem to get his gaze off her chest.
“I’ve learned a lot just by watching.”
Unable to help himself, Simon brushed the backs of his fingers over her left breast, teasing that taut nipple. “And you know the best way to learn is to do. Real confidence comes with experience.” His gaze locked with hers. “And that means not just practice, but out-and-out, full-blown contact.”
Her breathing accelerated. “I’ve done that with Barber.”
Simon clenched his jaw. “Fine.” Son of a bitch. He did not want to say it, but her safety was a priority. “Have Barber come to the gym to work with you.” And he’d watch over them both.
Dakota drew in a shuddering breath. “Why are you so worried about me improving my skills?”
“You know why.” Her beautiful legs and trim waist weren’t a surprise for Simon, not after seeing her in that dress. But a woman’s breasts could easily be enhanced with the right bra.
He didn’t think Dakota bothered with enhancements.
And when he opened his hand over her breast and held her, he discovered that she was heavy and firm, more than perfect. He could feel her puckered nipple against his palm.
“Damn,” he said, surprised at how hoarse he sounded. “You really are stacked, but somehow you’ve managed to hide it.”
“I see no reason to show it.”
No, why would she when she didn’t want male attention? Except for his, Simon reminded himself.
Before he got any further off track, Simon took her hand and led her to the hot tub. He stepped in first, then helped her in.
“There’s a ledge for sitting.”
She started to move to it but, still holding her hand, Simon sat down and pulled her to him until she straddled his lap.
It was wonderful.
And torturous.
And the pleasure of having her lush behind cuddling his cock damn near took his voice.
Dakota stationed both hands on his shoulders and just looked at him. Her eyes were dark and heavy, her lips parted to accommodate her fast breaths.
The water level reached just to her nipples, and the shirt quickly became transparent. With her panties and his boxers soaked, they barely existed. Her belly rested against his abdomen. His hands naturally went to her backside.
“Comfortable?”
She nodded—and stared at his mouth.
Ruthlessly controlling himself, Simon asked, “No bad feelings?”
She shook her head, and leaned forward to kiss him. He let her do that without taking over; he just accepted her kiss, opening his mouth when she nudged at his lips, touching his tongue to hers as it licked into his mouth.
“Simon?”
“What do you want, Dakota?”
Her nose bumped his. Her breath fanned his mouth. “I’m not sure.”
He should be sainted. “Will you trust me?”
“To do what?”
She didn’t sound wary so much as keenly excited. “Turn around.”
That confused her.
She lifted her head and stared at him, and Simon explained. “I’m not about to come in my hot tub, babe. It’s not cool.”
“Then…”
“I want to play with you a little. That’d make me a really happy man.”
“Play with me?” Her slim brows pinched over her nose. “That sounds sort of frustrating.”
“For me, yeah.” But he hoped not for her. “I’d like to get more familiar with your body, and let you get familiar with me touching you.”
She squirmed, and suggested, “We could just go back to your bed—”
“Shhh. No, not yet.”
“Why?”
How did he tell her that he didn’t want to be a quick conquest? He didn’t want to have sex with her once, just to prove to them both that he could. What he did want, Simon couldn’t say. Not in the long run.
But for right now, here, this moment, he wanted to hear her groaning with a climax. He wanted to feel her shivering with release, wanted to hold her as she went soft and limp and spent.
So he lied. “I’m in training, remember?”
Suspicion firmed her mouth. “Yeah, so?”
“Sex is a no-no.”
She straight-armed away from him and glared. “You’re a tease, aren’t you? If you had no intention of—”
“Dakota.” He brought her to him for a quick, hard kiss. “I asked you to trust me. Do you think you can do that?” Playing dirty, knowing she hated to admit to any weakness, Simon added, “Or will your fear get in the way?”
Through her teeth, she asked, “Tell me what you want me to do.”
So much pride. Simon kept his grin contained and helped her to stand. “Just turn around, and then sit back down.”
Water splashed as Dakota gave him her back, then dropped onto his knees. Silly woman. She was so adorable to him. Hands at her waist, Simon said, “Ease back. Careful, because I’ve got a boner that I’d just as soon leave in one piece.”
That stiffened her spine, but she eased back against him until she felt his erection, then she stilled.
“Keep coming.” Simon helped her until her back rested against his chest. “Now try to relax.”
She made a small sound and remained stiff, put off, and antagonistic. Her hands were on his upper thighs, her fingers digging hard into his muscles. He rather liked that.
Deliberately, Simon rested one hand low on her belly. “If you open your legs, I can touch you.”
Not a sound.
Not a single movement.
“Maybe I’m rushing you—”
Her legs parted over his, not far, but enough that Simon could ease them wider himself. It was a favorite foreplay position of his, but this wasn’t foreplay, and never before had the woman on his lap been so rigid and wary.
Rather than rest her head back on his shoulder, Dakota kept her neck stiff so she could lock her gaze on his hands and watch his every move.
It was awkward, but not enough to deter him.
“That’s perfect,” Simon lied. Lightly, he trailed his fingers up and down her inner thighs, and added, “For now.”
Then he just kissed her, her nape, her shoulders, wherever he could reach. He knew Dakota expected a quick attack, but he’d disappoint her on that. He wanted to take his time with her, to build anticipation for them both.
One by one, he lifted her hands and nibbled on her knuckles, licked her wrists, and sucked on her fingertips. Dakota breathed so hard, he could hear her over the bubbling water.
“Are you warm enough?”
She nodded and said, “Oh, yeah,” in a rough, breathless rush.
“Would you mind if I brought your shirt up above your breasts?”
She finally dropped her head back and said on a near wail, “No.”
“No, you don’t mind, or no, you don’t want me to?”
She yanked the T-shirt up herself, then held it there, trembling, panting, anxious.
Looking over her shoulder, Simon admired her breasts. “Beautiful.” Not only her breasts, but…“I can see through your panties now, too. Not clearly with the water and bubbles, but…”
Dakota turned her face into his throat and held herself very still. Her hands remained fisted in the wet T-shirt below her chin.
Simon hefted one breast in ea
ch hand, gently cuddled her, squeezed, and then caught each nipple. He tugged, and Dakota nearly arched off his lap.
Pausing, he whispered, “Settle back, honey. Try to relax and let me enjoy you.” He still had each nipple clamped firmly.
“This is crazy.”
“I know,” he said, soothing her. “Sit back now.”
She did, but she’d started to squirm again, and Simon realized just how sensitive her breasts were. He’d barely touched her, had mostly teased a little, and she couldn’t sit still.
Loving Dakota would be a lot of fun.
For now, it’d be his torture.
He pulled gently at her nipples as he spoke to her. “You’re twenty-three, Dakota. I assume you’ve had a climax before?”
“No. Yeah.” She shook her head in frustration and said low, “I don’t know.”
Interesting. “Let me rephrase that, then. Have you had a climax with a man?”
“No.”
No hesitation there at all. “All right. But by yourself—”
“Do you want me to drown you, Simon?”
Because she couldn’t see him, he grinned. Her harsh voice sounded both excited and embarrassed. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Then stop trying to embarrass me.”
“Okay.” He flicked his thumbs over her. “Do you like this?”
She nodded.
“What about this?” Holding the weight of her breasts in his hands, he compressed her nipples with his thumbs.
“Yes.”
“You have a pretty belly.”
She cursed.
Simon said, “I’m going to put my hand inside your panties.”
Her shoulders tensed. “You don’t need permission, damn it.”
“I wasn’t asking, just letting you know.” Because he could tell it heightened her arousal for him to talk to her, and because he didn’t want to startle her, or rush her in any way. “Let me know if you don’t like it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Simon felt the muscles in her thighs contract. Slowly, so slowly that it made him a little wild, too, he slipped his fingers into her panties. This time he wasn’t content just to touch her. He explored, parting her, sliding over her swollen lips, dipping his middle finger barely into her, then pressing in further.
“Oh, God.”
Near her ear, Simon whispered, “You feel so good. Hot and slick.” Making himself hot, he added in a growl, “I wish I could taste you.”
Her trembling increased, making Simon wonder.
“Has any man ever—”
“No.”
With his free arm, Simon hugged her. He could be first at something. Would be first. And it thrilled him. “We’ll save that for another time, okay?”
She didn’t bother to answer.
“Two hands, honey.” He kept his finger pressed in her as far as he could go, and with his other hand, he found her little clitoris. She was swollen, distended, and he groaned low in his throat, ready to come regardless of what he’d told her.
With ultimate care and experience, he slipped his fingertips over her, again and again, his rhythm steady and easy and light. At the same time, he moved inside her, felt every tightening of her inner muscles, each new rush of warmth that bathed his hand.
Putting his mouth to the side of her throat, Simon sucked at her sensitive skin to give her a hickey. As the sensations built, Dakota moaned, went first boneless and then so taut that her back arched and her feet pressed hard against the floor of the hot tub.
He stayed with her, encouraging her with small sounds, murmuring to her—and finally he felt her coming.
His heart expanded as she locked her teeth and clenched her muscles. Her hips moved against him. She groaned, guttural, earthy, real sounds that echoed on the still air around them.
Simon held her close and relished the moment more than any other that he could recall. More than his first win or when he’d gotten a championship belt or…anything.
As Dakota finally eased, resting limply in his hold, he turned her, cradling her on his lap and kissing her. She held on to him, snuggled in close, and damn, but it felt like trust. Bone-deep trust.
And so very much more.
TEN minutes later, Dakota was so still and silent, Simon wondered if she’d fallen asleep. He gave her a squeeze. “Hey. You okay, honey?”
“Yeah.” She slowly inhaled, stretched luxuriously. “I’m great.”
He liked the sound of that. “You didn’t hurt your thigh, did you?”
“Nope.”
Simon tipped up her face and kissed her. She looked relaxed and as sated as he’d hoped. Smiling in satisfaction, he asked, “Do you want to go in for a nap?”
“I’m not sleepy. Just…sort of amazed and maybe a little self-conscious and kind of tingly all over.”
“Perfect.” He kissed her again. “You’re totally, completely perfect.”
That had her snorting. “Yeah, right. Lack of nookie must’ve made you delirious.” She sat up and, to Simon’s surprise, she straddled his lap again.
“What’s this?”
Shrugging, she looked at his chin and said, “I’m wondering if there’s something I can do for you.”
Sexy, strong, and generous to boot. His smile widened. “There are all kinds of things you can do for me. Later. After I get back from Vegas.”
“What about right now?”
“Right now, I’d like to talk.”
“You’re serious?” She scowled at him, took in his expression, and accused, “You are.” She made a sound of disbelief. “Good grief, you are the most talkative man I’ve ever met.”
“Most men enjoy a little conversation, Dakota. It’s not unheard of.”
“Really? Even when a near-naked woman is sitting on his lap?” She nodded. “I’m sure guys everywhere would agree with you. I mean, what else would a man have on his mind but some chitchat?”
She had a point. “This is a unique situation.”
“For me anyway. I’ve never been in a hot tub with a man. Never sat on a man’s lap. Never…well, you know. That other stuff.”
“Come with a man?”
Tucking in her chin, she gave him a reproachful frown. “It didn’t need clarification, Simon.”
“I think it did.” Locking his fingers behind the small of her back, Simon ensured she couldn’t bolt away if she didn’t like what he had to say. “There’s something special going on here, and that gives me certain rights.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Spell it out for me.”
Simon took heart in the fact that she didn’t move away. She sounded more curious than offended. “We both know it was probably Marvin who pushed you and attacked Barber.”
“I don’t have any doubts.”
“Neither do I. And that’s why I want you ready and able to defend yourself if it becomes necessary.” Simon knew he couldn’t be with her 24/7. No man could. She was an independent woman who lived her life as she should—free and on her own terms.
He liked and admired that about her. But at the same time, he couldn’t bear the thought of her being vulnerable to a man who’d already abused her.
She had skills, but she needed to improve in order to fend off an attack by someone like Marvin Dream.
Dakota leaned forward and kissed his chin. “I don’t take chances, Simon. There’s no reason for you to worry about me.”
“It’s not about taking chances. If someone wants to get to you, he can. You can’t live your life and always be protected. The very best defense is preparation. You need to be prepared.”
When she leaned away, that only afforded Simon a better view of her breasts beneath the wet, clinging T-shirt. “I’m not sure what it is you want.”
“You.” He wanted no mistakes about that. “I want you, Dakota. A dozen different ways. I want to be inside you when we’re sitting like this, and I want you over me, riding me.”
“Simon.�
�� Once again, her breathing hitched.
“And I want you under me, unafraid, with your legs around my waist and your face tight with pleasure.”
She bit her lip, and then nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
Simon held her face in his hands. “I want to know that you trust me and that some prick from your past no longer has a hold on your life.”
After letting out a shaky laugh, Dakota said, “Gee. That’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me.”
Simon smiled with her. “I think the best way for us to make that happen is to move slowly, at least where sex is concerned. And yes, before you ask, I’ll be fine. Contrary to schoolboy claims, I won’t explode from unrequited lust or suffer painful lasting effects or any of that.”
“No blue balls?” she teased.
Simon shook his head. “I’ll just want you more day to day, but I can handle it.” Hell, he’d wanted her from the moment he laid eyes on her. What would a little more patience hurt?
“Didn’t you just say that guys in training are supposed to skip sex anyway?”
He snorted. “Yeah, right.” If she knew that Dean had told him to “have her and get it out of his system,” she might not understand. “In theory, I guess that’s true. But the only men I know who skip sex are the ones who don’t have an option either way. And then they’re probably unloading on their own, so it doesn’t matter.”
The most comical expression came over Dakota’s face. She choked out, “Unloading?”
With a crooked grin, Simon said, “You get my meaning.”
“Yes, I do. And oh, the visuals it brings to mind…”
Laughing, Simon waggled his head and then drew her close for a teasing, smacking kiss. “Knock that off, woman. It’s time to get serious.” He eased her against him so that her head again rested on his shoulder. “How long have you been divorced now?”
She shrugged. “A couple of years. I’m not exactly keeping count or anything.”
“And in that time, how often have you seen your ex?”
“Hmmm.” While she thought about it, Dakota toyed with his chest hair. “Not that often, really. I’d say he shows up two or three times a year. Occasionally more often.”
Just often enough that she couldn’t relax and forget about him. “He’s threatened you since the divorce?”
“Now that would depend on what you consider a threat. He says things, or looks at me a certain way, and I feel threatened, but you wouldn’t.”