Fighting Dirty (Ultimate #4)

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Fighting Dirty (Ultimate #4) Page 14

by Lori Foster


  First time a woman ever said that to him. But then again, he didn’t have many morning-after conversations with women. “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “And I need…makeup. And a shower. We both need a shower.”

  Her modesty softened his heart. “You saying I stink?”

  “No!” Immediately she was against him, her nose in his neck, brushing against him and making his dick harder. “You smell so good.”

  Armie laughed—and subtly tried to lead her hand south. “I was teasing, Stretch.”

  Not so subtly, she tucked her hand under the sheet and wrapped her warm, slender fingers around him. “Mmm. You want me again?”

  God, he wanted her always. “Yeah.”

  “I’d like to shower with you.”

  “Okay, sure.” Hard to talk now with her stroking him.

  Hesitant, she tipped her face back to see him. “The thing is, I’m not sure what we’re doing.”

  Easy enough. “You’re jerking me off and I’m close to losing it.”

  Laughing, her hand going idle on his junk, she whispered, “You are so bad.”

  “I’m not the one with a dick in my hand.”

  “Armie.” Surprising him, she crawled up and over him to sit on his abdomen.

  He felt the heat of her on his stomach, how her silken inner thighs hugged his ribs. Looking beyond her, he caught the reflection of her back and small bottom in the big mirror on the wall. Slender and sexy and, for now, all his.

  “Damn, Stretch, I like this even better.” Fingers spread, he coasted his hands from her knees up the outside of her thighs to her bottom cheeks. Watching her intently, he traced her cleft—and saw her face go pink as he let his fingers play.

  That turned him on more, so he urged her forward a little until she balanced on her knees over him. Putting one hand under her, he found her heated vulva with his fingertips—and saw everything reflected in the mirror.

  Knowing he could see her, she whispered brokenly, “Armie…”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  A wave of flushed heat stained her breasts, throat and face—but she didn’t deny him.

  Nice. She wanted to satisfy him. Not as much as he wanted to satisfy her, but that’d be impossible anyway. With one fingertip, he parted her lips, barely entered her, and teased along already slick, sensitized flesh. “If you grab a condom,” he told her in a growl, “you can ride me.”

  Biting her lip and closing her eyes, she nodded. Then she inhaled and stared down at him. “I need to know what we’re doing today. And no, don’t go into more sex jokes. I’m off—”

  “Well I’m still trying to get off.”

  “—and I know you don’t usually hang at the rec center on Sunday. At least, not all day.” She cupped his face. “So what are we doing? Should I get dressed and leave?”

  “No.” Hell no. He was on the ragged edge and she talked about booking?

  “Or we could have sex, and then I could head home to shower.”

  “I have a damn shower.” And he’d already imagined being in it with her.

  “Or,” she said, visibly bracing herself, “we could spend the whole day together. Sometimes having sex, maybe watching a movie. I could cook for you and we could talk more. Whatever you want.”

  Why the idea of spending the day with her panicked him, Armie couldn’t say. Other than indulging in a sexual marathon, he’d never spent that much time with a woman. Sure, he wanted to talk with her. And he’d help her cook.

  The idea of the two of them, all cozy on his couch, soaking up a movie—the image played out like a daydream, surreal but awesome. And that left him unsettled, too, but he hoped he hid it well. As quick cover, he teased, “Whatever I want, huh?”

  She surprised him again with a very serious, somber nod. “I trust you, remember? I know you wouldn’t ask me to do anything I didn’t want to do.”

  What did she want to do? His heart started pounding, only partly because of the carnality of her offer. The rest was straight-up uncertainty of the future, of wanting what his conscience told him he couldn’t have. She taunted him with near impossibilities. As exposed as he felt, he couldn’t bear the idea of ever hurting her again—and yet, letting her in might cause her the most pain.

  Still, it was possible that she’d get her jollies, and then move on. His guts cramped at that thought, but it’d be best for her. She wanted this, with him, and he was more than happy to oblige her. But anything more?

  The future, her future, would be up to her and Rissy was a smart woman. She always made good choices.

  Odds were she wouldn’t choose him.

  “All that?” she asked, touching her fingers to his brow, easing his frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

  The vulnerability on her face decided him. “Stay.” He took her shoulders and pulled her down so he could hug her to his heart. “I need to jog, then we can shower. And a movie sounds great.” He turned to put her under him. “But first, I need you.” He kissed her, his lips brushing over hers, nudging hers to open so he could slip his tongue in, gradually going deeper, hotter, until they were full-on making out.

  She’d clearly forgotten about morning primping.

  When he took his attention to her delicate throat, she gasped, “Okay.”

  “This is going to be fast.” Waking up with Rissy had him ready to explode. “But during the shower I’ll need you again.”

  She laughed as he put damp nibbles down to her breasts. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “And maybe during the movie…”

  “Bad,” she whispered, when he latched onto her nipple and sucked softly. “You are so bad and, oh God, Armie, so incredibly good.”

  *

  ON WEDNESDAY, AFTER a crazy day at the bank, Merissa was more than thrilled to be heading home. She hadn’t been at her house much, mostly just to grab clothes and check on things. So far with Armie, the more time they spent together, the more he seemed to want her around.

  She loved every second with him, so she’d never complain, but she wished she knew what it meant. There were times when he looked like he wanted to devour her. Granted, she was usually naked while receiving those hungry stares.

  But there’d been a few other times, like when she woke up on Monday and found him propped on an elbow, just looking at her all superserious and intense. For a second, she’d thought she saw love in his eyes. But then he kissed her and she couldn’t concentrate enough to analyze anything, much less Armie’s moods.

  So far, the way they worked it was that she’d spend the night with him, then run home early enough in the morning to change into her work clothes. But each day before she left, he’d give her one of those probing stares, almost as if he fought with himself, or couldn’t figure her out, then he’d say, “See you back here later?” As if it didn’t matter, but in his dark eyes, she saw the uncertainty.

  She wasn’t a fool. She knew she wouldn’t change Armie. But she now knew the facts, knew of his childhood and everything he’d gone through. It didn’t explain his sexual overdrive, but it did make sense when she considered his apparent lack of interest in a lasting relationship.

  She respected her brother for keeping Armie’s secrets, but if she’d known sooner, it might have made a difference.

  Never would she pressure him; she had too much pride for that. But she couldn’t help hoping that he’d enjoyed their time together as much as she did and that maybe, just maybe, he’d fall in love with her.

  March had rolled in with unusual springlike weather, and as Merissa left the bank, she didn’t bother buttoning up her coat. The sun felt heavenly. Soon the days would be getting longer; a blessing, given it was usually dark when she went into work, and dark still when she got off.

  She’d almost reached her car when her phone rang. Thinking it’d be Armie, she paused to snatch it out of her purse and swiped the screen without even seeing the number. “Hello?”

  “You hussy.”

  Oh. Not Ar
mie, but her closest friend, Cherry. “Hey.” Continuing on to her car, now smiling, she asked, “What’s up?”

  “Armie, apparently nonstop. I mean, that’s all I can assume since you’ve been MIA and so has he. I’m right, aren’t I? Please tell me I’m right!”

  Laughing, Merissa unlocked her car and got in. “I told him you would demand I tell you everything.”

  “Great. So let’s do dinner. I want to hear every juicy detail.”

  “Umm…” Much as she loved Cherry, she really looked forward to heading over to Armie’s.

  “No hedging,” Cherry told her. “Armie’s held up at the rec center so you may as well kill some time with me. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  “Okay, but only if you promise not to tell anyone.”

  “Ohmigod.” Cherry’s voice lowered to a scandalized whisper. “It’s all kinky, isn’t it? I knew it would be.”

  She laughed. “No, and where do you want to meet?”

  “Rowdy’s will do. I love their soup on Wednesdays. How soon can you be there?”

  “I just need to run home to change. So…forty minutes?”

  “I’ll be there.” Cherry hesitated, then added, “I’m so happy for you, Rissy.”

  Merissa thought she might burst. Grinning, she admitted, “Me, too.” It’d be great to share with a friend. Keeping all the wonderfulness bottled up hadn’t been easy. She made a kissing sound through the phone, disconnected, put her phone on the dash—then jumped when someone tapped on her driver’s-side window.

  Hand to her heart, she turned and found Steve standing there. The setting sun gilded his brown hair and reflected off his mirrored sunglasses. A little unnerved, Merissa rolled down her window. “Steve. What are you doing here?”

  “Checking on you.” He folded his arms over the base of the window frame and leaned in, smiling at her. “Should I be jealous?”

  “Um…” She leaned as far away in her seat as she could. “About what?”

  “Whoever you were just kissing on the phone.”

  “Oh.” Laughing, she shook her head. “That was my friend, Cherry.”

  “Really?” He took off his sunglasses. “Now there’s a visual that’ll keep me intrigued for a while.”

  Perv. “I love her like a sister, Steve.”

  “I know. I remember Cherry.” His gaze moved over her face, and his voice softened. “I was just teasing.” Before Merissa could ask him to leave, he said, “She moved out, didn’t she? Married some big hulk?”

  “Denver Lewis, and yes, they’re married now.” Very happily. Denver was something of a caveman, overly protective and very possessive, but in the gentlest way possible. And he adored Cherry. In contrast, Vanity’s husband, Stack Hannigan, was deceptively laid-back. It took a lot to get him riled, but once there, look out. It was pretty awesome that they’d gotten married around the same time. “Now, why are you here?”

  “I was in the neighborhood, having lunch with a client.” Voice going smooth as velvet, he said, “I think about you a lot. How are you holding up?”

  “Because of the robbery, you mean?” It was conceivable that he’d had lunch. There was a nice Italian restaurant only a block away from the bank, and as the CEO of a marketing firm, he often had business lunches.

  “Yes.” Before she could stop him, he reached for her chin, tipping her face to see her jaw. “That awful bruise is almost gone.”

  Most of the time Merissa forgot about it. Lifting away from him, she said, “I’m fine.”

  “I’d still like to see you.”

  “No.”

  “Because you’re involved with Jacobson?”

  Oh, how she wanted to say, Yes, we’re an item. But she’d promised Armie to keep it quiet, so she just sighed. “He has nothing to do with it. I told you we’re over, and I meant it. A few months hasn’t changed anything.”

  “It’s changed me.” Dropping his head forward as if dejected, he said, “I screwed up and I know it.”

  “Wasn’t you,” she told him honestly. “It just wasn’t there.”

  “Maybe it was for me.”

  Then he’d hidden it well. “If that’s so, I’m sorry.” Making a point of checking the time, Merissa said, “I need to go.”

  “Right. I didn’t mean to keep you. But will you promise me something?”

  Doubtful. “What?”

  “If anything happens, if you just need a friend to listen, give me a call. I promise I won’t let you down.”

  Damn it, now she was starting to feel sorry for him. “Sure, thanks.” She smiled. “Now I really do need to go or I’m going to be late.”

  Nodding, he stepped back.

  Merissa quickly put the window back up and started the car. She didn’t want to hit the locks with Steve standing there, listening, but his nearness bothered her on multiple levels. She didn’t breathe easy until she’d pulled away and put him in her rearview mirror.

  Anticipating lunch with Cherry, and then the evening with Armie, she shook off her misgivings about Steve. He was in her past, and now she only wanted to concentrate on the future—with Armie.

  *

  HEADING INTO ROWDY’S bar with the heavy hitters, Armie felt like a fraud. He despised the fanfare.

  Why couldn’t he just fight, like he’d always done? Wasn’t his performance in the cage enough?

  As they entered, Jude turned heads. Though he hadn’t been in a movie for a while, everyone recognized him. He stayed visible by actively supporting the troops, heading up numerous charities and promoting the SBC.

  The fact that he had fight legends Simon Evans and Dean Connors with him only added to the stares. Even though he’d been married awhile now, women claimed that Simon was so gorgeous, panties just automatically dropped. And Dean, better known as Havoc and also married, got his own fair share of admiring stares.

  He might as well have walked in with a king, the pope and the president for all the attention they got.

  Rowdy met them halfway across the floor. “Bringing in the big guns, Armie?”

  “They insisted.”

  That made Rowdy grin. “Sorry I don’t have a private room, but Avery is clearing a back booth right now if that’ll do.”

  Jude held out his hand, thanked him and agreed to let Rowdy take a photo for the wall.

  Shaking his head, Armie looked at Dean. “How do you stand it?”

  “He’s too nice to despise.”

  “I tried,” Simon said, then studiously avoided looking at a woman who whistled.

  Jude took it in stride, grinning at them and following Rowdy to the booth.

  That was one thing Armie truly admired about the men—they were dedicated to their wives. Many men with their clout would use the popularity to carouse, but from what he could tell these guys were each faithful, showing only polite manners to the outrageously flirting women.

  Because he despised cheats, Armie knew if he ever married, he’d be the same.

  “I’ll apologize in advance,” Rowdy said, “but there are a lot of fight fans here and they can only be held off for so long. In a town this size, word is going to spread fast.”

  Armie looked around the room and saw at least two dozen people frantically sending texts. “Shit.” He shrugged at the men who would be his company for the next hour. “You guys want to do an impromptu gig? Rowdy’ll be better able to hold them off if you agree to some fan photos in say…” He checked his watch, realized Rissy was off work and wanted to groan. “How about an hour?”

  Jude said, “Why not?”

  “Fine by me,” Havoc said. “Simon?”

  “Sure. And if any new fighters are around, gather them up. We’ll give them some exposure.”

  Brows lifted, Rowdy said, “That’d be great if you’re sure it’s not a problem.”

  “No problem at all.”

  “All right, I’ll spread the word and buy you some privacy until then.” After taking drink orders, he left them.

  Simon watched him go, then eyed the
others at the table. “Is it just me, or does Rowdy seem like he has a whole hell of a lot more going on than bar owner?”

  Armie grinned. He wasn’t about to go into Rowdy’s history with everyone, but he did say, “He’s only the latest owner of the bar. Before that, yeah, he had a lot going on.”

  “He’s got an edge to him,” Jude agreed.

  “Cannon told me some of it.” Havoc sat back. “I don’t think he’d mind if I shared.”

  “You do that,” Armie said as he took out his phone and quickly texted Rissy to let her know he was held up. Just as he was about to send the message, he heard her laugh.

  What the hell? Midstory he made Havoc move to let him out, stepped from the booth and scanned the room. Merissa had just walked in with Cherry and already guys were eyeballing them. Together the ladies made an interesting contrast; Rissy was tall, slender, with long dark hair, while Cherry was much shorter with a generous rack and curly blond hair.

  Damn it. Where the hell was Denver? He’d keep the knuckleheads away.

  When Rissy pulled off her coat, the sight of her squeezed all the oxygen out of Armie’s chest. She wore a stretchy, black lace top that hugged her upper body enough to make his mouth water. Her jeans, superlow and long, emphasized the length of her killer legs. She’d added extra makeup and even curled the ends of her long hair.

  For who?

  “Problem?” Havoc asked.

  Hell, he’d almost forgotten he had an audience and definitely hadn’t realized they’d stopped talking about Rowdy. Without looking at any of his companions, Armie said, “No.” Not one that he could acknowledge anyway, definitely not one he’d share with another guy.

  He sent the text, saw Rissy immediately grab her phone, smile and quickly thumb in a reply. Soon as it hit his phone, Armie read, Cherry told me. Visiting w/her @ Rowdy’s. Let me know when ur done & I’ll head over. Miss you!

  So it wasn’t that she’d accepted Cherry’s offer over seeing him, and it wasn’t to get with another guy. She’d dolled up extra sweet for him.

  Tension uncoiled from his neck and shoulders, when damn it, tension shouldn’t have been there anyway. He missed her, too, but only texted back, Will do. Have fun. Then took his seat again.

 

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