Fighting Dirty (Ultimate #4)

by Lori Foster

  Confused, Merissa turned to her. “What do you mean?”

  Moving to a closer seat, Cherry hunkered in and said low, “You know, the other guys.” She bobbed her eyebrows. “I know what Denver likes.”

  Matching the quiet tone, Merissa asked, “What?”

  “He’s very controlling and protective.”

  Expecting something more titillating, Merissa scoffed. “Everyone knows that.”

  “He’s really good, Rissy.”

  Hearing her friend sigh, Merissa laughed. “I’m glad you’re so happy.”

  “So…you said Armie’s good, too?”

  “Oh yeah. He’s so…attentive. You know, paying a lot of attention to…details.” Even as she said it, she blushed.

  Cherry grinned at her. “So don’t you wonder about the other guys?” She flapped a hand. “Not with like…personal interest or anything. You know I’m crazy in love with Denver. But aren’t you curious?”

  Merissa frowned. “I never really thought about it.”

  “Well, look at them. Brand is all cocky smiles, a little distanced, and that lady with him is all about getting him alone. But Miles keeps joking and every time that woman laughs, she inches closer.”

  Yes, she did see it now. “They’re both on the make, but in very different ways.”

  “Justice just bulldozes forward. He scooped that woman into his lap and she hasn’t budged since.”

  Merissa turned her head to see Leese at a small table with the blonde. He sat very near her, staring into her eyes, listening intently to whatever she said. And he kept touching her in small ways, like brushing his fingers over the back of her hand, or tucking her hair behind her ear. “Interesting.”

  “So what does Armie like?”

  Merissa lifted her brows in a “Really?” expression. From what she could tell, Armie liked sex—just about any way he could get it.

  “Denver loves it when I nibble on him. His ear, or his neck, or…you know.” Cherry sighed again. “And he loves it when I touch him and he’s not expecting it. Like the other morning, he’d just gotten out of bed and was stretching. Denver stretching is incredibly hot, so I reached around him and copped a feel. Let’s just say it was a good thing we’d gotten up early because he spent an hour showing how I’d fired him up.”

  Even though it embarrassed her a little, Merissa whispered, “I wrote on Armie’s butt.”

  Cherry’s eyes went wide, then she insisted, “Details!”

  It was during the retelling that Merissa glanced up and again caught Armie watching her.

  His look was so knowing, it was as if he’d overheard her talking. Which, of course, was impossible, given the distance between them and the noise level in the room.

  When Armie shook hands with the men and pulled his jacket back on, Merissa rushed to tell Cherry, “I need to get going.”

  “So early?”

  “I have work tomorrow.”

  “So do I,” Cherry said, “but it’s only eight-thirty.”

  “Armie’s done.”

  Cherry glanced at him, then back. “So tell him to join us.”

  “Cherry,” she remonstrated. “I told you—he doesn’t want everyone to know we’re seeing each other.”

  Cherry tucked in her chin. “I thought you meant the sex. But it all has to be secret?”

  Unconcerned, Merissa shrugged. “We’re being discreet.”

  Cherry’s narrowed gaze shifted to Armie again. “So you have to…what? Wait for him to leave then follow ten steps behind?”

  That gave her pause. “You’re making it sound really bad.”

  Rushing to reassure her, Cherry said, “No, not bad at all. I’m happy for you, you know that. It’s just—” she shrugged “—dumb. Our friends are all going to know—not that I’ll go blabbing or anything. But do you really think you can keep it secret, even from Cannon?”

  Merissa bit her lip. “I don’t know.” But for now, she didn’t want to do anything that might drive Armie away. “For now, being with him is enough. You know?”

  “I do.” Eyes full of concern, Cherry took her hand. “Maybe if you keep having awesome sex, the rest will fall into place?”

  “I hope so.”

  “It worked wonderfully for Denver and me.”

  “What,” Armie asked from the side of the table, “worked for you two?”

  Taken by surprise, Cherry blurted, “Great sex,” and then she realized Denver stood with Armie, looking even more shocked than she had. She covered her face. “Oh God.”

  Armie grinned, Denver sighed and Merissa lost it.

  She started laughing, and almost couldn’t stop.

  *

  “GET IT TOGETHER, STRETCH.” Seeing Rissy’s hilarity kept the smile on Armie’s face. He turned to Denver. “Apparently your skills have left her hysterical.”

  “Armie.” With her face bright pink, Cherry looked up at her stern husband. “You’re wonderful in bed. You know that.”

  Rissy broke out into new guffaws, making Armie shake his head.

  “Rissy,” Cherry hissed while giving Denver an apologetic smile. “Stop it.”

  Hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking, Rissy tried. “Sorry,” she snickered between her fingers. “It’s just with what she was saying—”

  “Cherry Pie,” Armie teased, using his pet name for her. “Were you gossiping about sex?” He shifted his gaze to Rissy. She, too, went red. “Comparing notes, maybe?”

  “Um…” Cherry choked, glanced at Denver’s scowl and started her own nervous giggle. “Mostly I was bragging.”

  Denver shook his head. “I think Armie is rubbing off on you.”

  “There’s a visual,” Armie said. “But no, I haven’t. Swear.”

  “You—” Denver reached for him.

  Armie ducked away, laughing. “You said it, not me.”

  When Cherry chuckled, Denver took her by her upper arms, lifted her from her chair and kissed her.

  Brows up, Rissy watched the public display.

  Armie nudged her. “No longer taking notes?”

  She shook her head.

  “Denver is a possessive ape.” Armie said it loud enough for Denver to hear.

  When his friend finally let up, Cherry was limp in his arms, so Denver gave him a triumphant smile. “Whatever works.”

  Still looking sappy, Cherry sent her elbow into his gut, making Denver grunt.

  “Yeah,” Armie said. “Clearly a good boning has turned her into a pacifist.”

  Laughing, Denver pulled Cherry in for a hug and said with humor, “Now, let’s don’t get carried away.”

  Watching them with admiration, Rissy sighed. Armie saw the wistful, almost-sad smile on her face. Is that what she wanted? The same comfortable, easy, funny relationship that Denver and Cherry had? He had to admit they were great together.

  Could he ever make Rissy that happy?

  Pulling on her coat, trying, and failing, to sound blasé, Rissy announced, “I need to get going.”

  Since Denver and Cherry both watched him, Armie couldn’t say any of the things he wanted to. Like, I’ll be right behind you.

  Or, Go to my place and get naked.

  And, Wait for me in bed.

  Resisting the urge to clear his throat of guilt, Armie said, “I’ll walk her out.”

  “Uh-huh.” A beefy arm over Cherry’s shoulders, Denver eyed Armie. “That’s a euphemism, right? What the cool kids are calling it these days?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Cherry laughed at him.

  Denver just shook his head in a pitying way. “Go on.”

  Okay, so he wasn’t fooling anyone. It was about more than their close friends. The bar was crowded, people snapping pics left and right, and he didn’t want rumors started about him being with Rissy. Given his rep, and his background, she’d get shredded.

  It was part of why he’d always steered clear.

  Rissy suddenly looked undecided and uncomfortable.

  Unfortunately, just the
n, Havoc called him over. When Armie looked, he saw some adoring fans—a guy and his girlfriend, apparently. They looked hopeful for yet another photo. They were supposed to be done now, but yeah, he hated to disappoint anyone. Pasting on a false smile, Armie sent Havoc a thumbs-up to let him know he’d be right there.

  He grumbled under his breath until Rissy gave a push to his shoulder. “Go. Please the masses.”

  Warring with himself, Armie hedged—and then Leese was there.

  “I’ll see that she makes it to her car.”

  A red haze clouded Armie’s vision, but what could he say? If it was anyone other than Rissy, he wouldn’t think a thing of it.

  “Seriously.” Hands on her hips, Rissy huffed at one and all. “I can walk out on my own steam.”

  Leese shifted impatiently. “Where are you parked?”

  Her umbrage lost its edge. “Um…across the street in the lot—”

  “Right.” He turned back to Armie. “Say your goodbyes, already. I have a date tonight and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

  “I do not need you to walk me out.” Then in quick succession, she said, “This is ridiculous. If it’ll make you feel better, just watch until I get to my car. You can see me from the front door.”

  Looking beyond Leese, Armie saw the stacked blonde seated at a small table, watching them.

  Knowing Leese wasn’t making moves on Rissy made it easier. “Thanks. Wait until she pulls away.” He glanced at Rissy and kept it casual. “Drive safe.” Then he headed over to Havoc. The sooner he got done, the sooner he could join Rissy at his apartment.

  Why the hell hadn’t he given her a key already? He’d take care of that as soon as he got home.

  He tried to greet the rabid fans while also keeping an eye on Rissy as she headed to the door with Leese. He smiled toward the camera but his gaze slanted to Leese, leaning against the door frame and keeping watch as Rissy headed out across the busy street and into the dark lot.

  They finished taking a corny picture of Armie and the other dude, fists up and mean mugging. Thinking he could head out, that he’d only be a minute behind her, Armie was thanking the fans when suddenly Leese went rigid, then took off in a dead run into the night.

  Fear cut into Armie.

  Something had happened.

  Blindly he pushed free of the small crowd and shoved his way across the room and out the door—where he saw Rissy knocked to the opposite curb, one shoe in the street, her purse dumped.

  Rage blocked out everything and everyone but her. With no thought for the traffic, he charged across the street. Leese was already helping her to sit up and she said, fast and breathless, “I’m okay!”

  Kneeling in front of her, Armie smoothed her hair away and saw blood on her bottom lip. “What the hell happened?” Gently, he gathered her into his lap.

  “She was damn near hit,” Leese said. “Some idiot…”

  Armie looked at him. It surprised him to see Leese was also infuriated, even shaking with it. Their gazes met—and Armie knew.

  Standing, Leese looked up and down the street, then crouched down again and in an enraged whisper, said, “Swear to God, Armie, it looked like the lunatic tried to run her over.”

  *

  THEY BOTH PULLED into his apartment parking lot half an hour later. Armie hadn’t wanted her to drive, had in fact wanted to call the police. But Merissa insisted it was her fault, that she’d been daydreaming and not paying enough attention to traffic and she’d already been embarrassed over drawing so much notice.

  Half of the damned bar had emptied to gawk at her. Denver, Miles, Brand, Justice had all stood together, creating a solid wall that offered her some privacy as she straightened her clothes and smoothed her hair. Leese had fetched her shoe from the road. Cherry had gathered up the belongings of her dumped purse.

  Knowing how their inner circle worked, Leese had quietly told him, “I’ll ask around, but I doubt anyone saw anything.”

  Since Rissy had insisted on driving, Armie had helped her to her car, then taken a moment to talk with Denver, who would in turn get in touch with Cannon and together with Leese they’d decide if something more was going on. One of them would be in touch with him.

  And of course, this meant Cannon would know Rissy was staying with him again. Armie wasn’t sure how he felt about that—or how Cannon would feel about it.

  But he did know Rissy shouldn’t be alone. Not tonight, not tomorrow.

  Not until they knew what the hell was happening.

  A robbery and then a near miss—that was too much coincidence for any intelligent man to swallow.

  Leaving his truck, he hustled over to Rissy’s car and opened the door. “Here, let me help you.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.” Surly, she hitched her purse strap over her shoulder with more force than necessary and stepped out. “I keep telling you, I’m fine.”

  Emphasis on the fine, and Armie well knew when women started using that word, there was a problem. “Oookay.”

  She took a step, and limped.

  Son of a bitch. He felt so damned helpless, he wanted to howl. “Okay, screw it.”

  She arched a brow, her look lethal.

  “I am who I am, Rissy.” He pointed at her. “You know that. You pushed your way in—”

  Both brows now snapped down. “I—”

  “—and now it’s too late to back out on me. You’re here, so you’ll just have to suffer me.”

  “I have no idea what that— Armie!”

  “Shush.” Lifting her into his arms, he started for the apartment entry door. “You have road rash on your cheek—the same cheek that still shows a faint bruise from the robbery. Plus I saw you limp, and you know me well enough to know I’m not going to ignore that.”

  “I told you I’m—”

  “Yeah, I know. You’re fine.” He shouldered the door open and started up the steps with her. “But I’m not.” Hoping she’d understand, he admitted softly, “I need to hold you, okay?”

  Gradually her frown smoothed out and now she just studied him, her expression enigmatic. When they reached the upper landing, she said calmly, “Put me down so you can unlock your door.”

  “You won’t budge?”

  “I’ll stand here like a good little victim.”

  He rolled his eyes, but took her at her word and put her back on her feet. It took him only seconds to unlock the door, then he scooped her up again.

  This time she looped one arm around his neck and with the other she closed and locked the door.

  Armie started down the hall.

  Resting her head on his shoulder, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “To the bed.”

  “Ah, okay.” She brushed her lips to his throat, up his neck to his ear. “Now you’re being more reasonable.” Sharp little teeth nipped his earlobe.

  The muscles in his thighs tensed. “Behave.” As he lowered her to the bed, he got a text on his phone. After he had her situated against the pillows, he pulled the phone out of his pocket, checked the text, then put it facedown on the nightstand. “Just relax.”

  When he started to remove her shoes, she said, “Stop.”

  Wrapping a hand around her ankle, he looked up. “What?”

  “Who texted you?”

  Not about to touch that one, he shook his head. “It’s nothing. Now—”

  She snatched her foot back and in a near-demonic tone, repeated, “Who?”

  Armie tilted his head, took in her antagonistic posture and smiled. She was in quite the mood tonight. “You wanna do this now, Stretch?” Maybe she needed a diversion to get past the fact that someone had tried to run her down. “All right. It was a chick I used to bang.”

  Her jaw clenched. Sneering, she asked, “You’re not banging her now?”

  “Nope.” He hadn’t been with another woman for some time. To him, a man used to frequent satisfaction, it felt like an eon. Until Rissy, he just couldn’t work up any enthusiasm. “Right now, I’m tr
ying to check your swollen ankle. And yeah, it is swollen.”

  Begrudging, she admitted, “I twisted it when I jumped out of the way of the car.”

  Fresh rage burned through him. “A car you insist wasn’t trying to hit you.” He peeled away her sock, put his warm hand around her arch and studied her slim ankle.

  “Why would anyone want to hit me?”

  His gaze lifted to hers. Yeah, that was fear he heard—which maybe explained her antagonism because a woman like Rissy would rather give in to bluster than show anxiety. “No idea,” he lied. He had plenty of ideas. “But maybe it was just some drunken prick who decided to watch you dive for cover. People are twisted.”

  Her shoulders relaxed a near-infinitesimal amount. “You think?”

  “It’s possible.” He quickly removed her other shoe and sock, then opened the snap and lowered the zipper to her jeans.

  “Armie Jacobson, are you trying to get me out of my pants?”

  “Yeah.” From angry, to vulnerable, to teasing. He eyed her anew. “How much did you drink?”

  “Not much. And come to think of it, I’m starving.”

  She hadn’t eaten at Rowdy’s. As preoccupied as he’d been watching her, he’d have noticed. “Lift your hips.”

  She did, and he stripped off the jeans. She wore black lacy panties that looked supersexy with the lace top. On stiffened arms, Armie loomed over her. “When you walked into the bar, I damn near got hard.” He lowered down to kiss her brow, her cheek above the road rash, then the corner of her mouth. “You’re always pretty, but I like how you dolled up.”

  “For you,” she whispered.

  Yeah, he’d figured that out. Armie treated them both to a deep, soft kiss, and though it wasn’t easy, he kept it to just that, no more. “I’m going to get you some ice for your ankle.”

  “Okay.” Her hand knotted in his shirt. “Soon as you tell me why women keep texting you and why you haven’t made it clear you’re off the market, for however long we last.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MERISSA KNEW SHE was deflecting. She was shaken, her cheek burned and more than her ankle throbbed. When she’d landed against the curb, it had felt like she’d rattled her entire body. She had a tight grip on Armie’s shirt, keeping him close, not to blame him or start an argument with him. Just to ground herself.