Simon Says (19 page)

Dakota had a feeling he was about to share bad news. “What's up?”

“I need to go out of town tomorrow.”

Not so bad. “Where to?”

“Vegas. There's a promotional gig….” The words trailed off as he looked at the shape of her body beneath the covers. In obvious frustration, he rubbed a hand over his head. “You've heard of
The Sports Connection
?”

“A talk show, right? Athletes get on there and clown around and stuff.”

“Yeah. Someone canceled on them, so now they have an opening.”

Dakota sat up in excitement. “And they want
you
?”

He smirked at her surprise. “Incredible, huh?”

Flushing, she rushed to say, “I didn't mean it
that
way.”

“I know. Actually, I travel my ass off doing promotion.” He didn't look happy about it. “I just got back from Palm Springs, and I was in New York before that.”

“What kind of stuff do you do?”

Simon shrugged. “There was a lengthy documentary on Dean with me as his trainer. There are always ads—you know, dressed in athletic shorts, or wearing certain running shoes. Power drinks, customized mouthpieces.” He ran a hand over his smooth head. “I've even done ads for razors.”

Dakota couldn't believe how casual he was about it. “You're a celebrity.”

“In small, exclusive circles, with a contained audience.”

“No way. The whole world is talking about the SBC. It's overtaken boxing.”

“Maybe.” He paced in front of her. “The talk show is nothing new, and I'd pass on it in a heartbeat, but that was Drew Black on the phone.”

“The owner of the SBC?” Dakota had followed Drew's story and knew how instrumental he'd been in making the SBC a highly recognized association. “Do you know him well?”

“Yeah, sure. He's a good guy. When I told him I was returning to fight, he jumped all over it. They've been giving it top billing, so it'd be lousy of me to turn down any additional promotion for the organization.”

“Of course you wouldn't turn them down! It's an awesome offer.”

Very softly, Simon said, “I don't want to go.”

She could see that. “Well, for heaven's sake, why not?”

He gave her a look that spoke volumes.

“Oh, come on.” Dakota crawled over to sit on the edge of the mattress, facing him. “You can't go changing your itinerary on account of me.”

“Why not?”

He had to be kidding. “I'll be here when you get back.”

The intensity of his stare unnerved her. “Will you?”

Oops. Until she said it, she hadn't really made the decision to stay. Simon knew it, too. Hoping to retrench, Dakota said, “Maybe.”

He took a step closer to her. “Too late, honey. You said it, now promise me that you meant it, and I'll go to Vegas with fewer misgivings.”

When she hesitated, he said, “Or I could still call Drew back and cancel—”

“That's blackmail.”

He shrugged.

Dakota doubted he really meant it. Hadn't he just said he felt obligated to go? But she didn't want him conflicted over such a fun opportunity, so she rolled her eyes and said, “All right, all right. I'll be here.”

Smiling, Simon set the phone back on the nightstand and said, “Scoot over, woman.”

Putting an end to the discussion, he had them both settled back in bed in no time. With an arm around her shoulders, Simon tugged her in close. Dakota rested her cheek on his naked chest, her hand on his bare abdomen.

In that position, she didn't feel the least bit threatened. But she did feel warm and secure and…excited.

By silent agreement, they watched the movie.

Or at least, Dakota tried to watch it. But on every level, she was aware of the crisp chest hair tickling her cheek, the solid muscles and warm skin under her palm.

With every breath, she inhaled Simon's stirring scent.

With every heartbeat, her blood rushed a little faster through her veins.

An hour later, she started to tremble with the need for more. It was unexpected, but then, she'd never gotten this close to a man except to grapple, and it wasn't the same. Not at all.

What she'd felt with Marvin couldn't compare to this. She'd been too young and inexperienced to understand her own needs. With him, her pleasure had come from the excitement of doing the taboo, of knowing an older guy wanted her, exploring the unknown.

Losing her virginity.

She'd been so immature, and wasted so much on him. But now, with Simon, every feeling was deeper, hotter, so sharp that it stole her breath away.

Ready to take a chance, Dakota smiled, looked up at him—and realized that Simon must have been exhausted.

He was sound asleep.

Amazed, Dakota turned her head further and stared at him in disbelief.

She knew he gave his all during every workout and practice session. His day started early and today it had run late. But still, how could he
sleep
?

Carefully, unwilling to wake him, she eased into a sitting position. Various aches and pains in her body vied for attention, but with Simon there beside her, offering her an opportunity to study him without reservation, she paid them no mind. Light from the television screen gave plenty of illumination to the room.

Even before meeting Simon in person, she'd admired him on television in pay-per-view events and in her DVD collection. She'd always thought him a devastatingly handsome man. Now, up close, she knew she'd missed so many nuances and details.

Everything about Simon Evans was gorgeous.

Dakota took her time scrutinizing his face. Even relaxed in sleep, there was an undeniable capability to the set of his features—the strong jaw, high cheekbones, firm lips…. She wanted to lean down and kiss him, but he obviously needed his sleep.

She loved his brows. They were thick, dark, and level, a perfect match to his incredible eyes. Never before had she thought of eyebrows in such a way, but on Simon, sexy described them best.

Years of competition hadn't left any disfiguring marks. There was no sign of a broken nose, and he didn't have cauliflower ears. He did have a few small scars, but they only added to his machismo.

He had a naturally dark complexion, but the sun had enriched his skin tone. Given the bronze of his shoulders and chest, Dakota believed that he did his morning jogs without a shirt.

Imagining the reaction of any woman who'd seen Simon run past, Dakota smiled. He probably left tongue-tied broads everywhere he went.

He certainly left her that way.

Growing more curious by the moment, she looked at his lap. The blankets concealed him, so she eased them away. Through the soft pants, she could make out the outline of his heavy sex.

Her temperature raised another few notches.

Earlier, he'd been bigger, thicker, maybe from a semi-erection. Because of her? Thinking that sent a thrill of delight up Dakota's spine.

Now, sound asleep, he looked full but softer, and she badly wanted to touch him, to weigh him in her hands and feel the heat of him.

Dangerous thoughts, given how they affected her.

Simon shifted then, raising one arm to put above his head. She held her breath until he stilled again and settled back into even breathing.

The underside of his arm was lighter, but just as muscled. The dark hair under his arm seemed very intimate, and very masculine.

With a sigh, Dakota settled back against the headboard, got comfortable, and continued to study him. Sometime later, she, too, fell asleep.

I
N
the wee hours of the morning, the party finally broke up and Roger Sims came around to pay the band. He also invited them to prolong their contract, and without any other dates pressing, they agreed. Extending their stay in Harmony wouldn't be a hardship for any of them.

At the end of the gig, most of the band had alternate plans, so Barber knew they wouldn't be holding up the van for him. He didn't have to announce his plans with Bonnie.

Stretching to ease his tired muscles, he looked around the floor until he spotted her. Seeing her again gave him the same kick of hot desire. She lounged in a chair, eating him up with her gaze. Several empty glasses crowded her small table, proving she'd been sitting there a while.

Anticipation hummed in his veins.

Jumping down off the stage, Barber made his way over to her. Other than tilting back her head to maintain eye contact, she didn't move.

Sexual tension hummed between them.

Barber ran his finger along her sleek jawline. “Well, now,” he said softly, “don't you look enticing, waiting here for me?”

Her smile came slow and easy, a little crooked—and Barber took a closer look at her eyes. He softly cursed.

She looked more than a little high.

Knowing his plans were shot to hell, he asked anyway. “How much you had to drink, darlin'?”

“Jus' enough to help pass the hours and hours and hours….”

Shit. The slurred words said it all. Resigned to disappointment, Barber said, “Come on, then,” and he took her upper arm to help her from her seat. “I'll see you home safe and sound.”

Once upright, Bonnie collapsed against him and giggled like a maniacal schoolgirl. “I've been thinking and thinking about wha' we'll do, Barber.”

Yeah, he had, too. But now he knew she'd pass out before reaching her bed, and he'd be going back to his hotel room alone.

When he had sex, he wanted the woman wide-awake, willing, and very involved.

Not numb from alcohol.

“Let me have your keys, sugar.”

She handed them over without argument. “I'm goin' to make you
crazy
,” she whispered suggestively.

“Shouldn't be too hard, considering you already got me halfway there.” Getting her out the door and to her sporty little Mazda in the deserted parking lot took some finessing.

She kept trying to cop a feel of his crotch.

“And here I thought you were a lady,” Barber chided, when he eased her grip away for the fifth time.

“Are you insinuatin' tha' I'm not respectable?” she asked with a little too much spit.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Just as Barber got the passenger-side door open for her, he heard the rush of footsteps behind him.

He jerked around in time to successfully dodge the chunk of pipe aimed at his head. Instead of caving in his skull, it caught him in the shoulder, slamming him sideways. Bonnie screamed at the top of her lungs.

She had very healthy lungs.

Going with the momentum, Barber hit the ground and rolled, surging back to his feet in one movement.

His shoulder thumped in pain, but not enough to keep him from facing the attackers.

He encountered three men, one standing back as if in charge, another with a pipe, a third grabbing for Bonnie as she struggled.

Like hell.

They all wore ski masks, disguising their faces, but Barber didn't need to see a face to hit it.

He shot in low and took down the pipe wielder in a full body slam. Aware of the other two behind him, he landed one solid punch to the chin, hard enough to break the man's jaw. The idiot didn't even see it coming, and went limp from the blow.

Bonnie let loose with another scream, this one muffled from a hand over her mouth. Barber turned and saw her clamped up tight between the other two men.

Neither of them rushed him as he got to his feet. They were too busy looking at their fallen friend.

Taunting them, Barber said, “You're both too fucking stupid to know you're already dead.” He grinned to add menace to the threat—and attacked.

Bonnie got tossed to the side.

The battle lasted no more than two minutes, but in that time, Barber took and gave his fair share of blows, and still came out ahead. The difference was his training. He knew how to strike with more power, to cripple with a blow, to fend off two against one.

In the end, the three men scrambled off together, disappearing into the darkness.

Barber watched them go, knowing it was the sound of sirens that had chased them away.

He turned to Bonnie. She huddled on the ground near the front tire of her car, covering her head with her arms and sobbing uncontrollably. Damn.

Dropping to his knees, Barber asked softly, “Are you hurt, little honey?”

She launched herself against him, nearly knocking him over again. He winced at the added discomfort to his battered body, and held her close.

Two police officers showed up.

Standing with Bonnie held to his chest, Barber explained what had happened. The officers called it in, took a report, promised to look around, and said they'd let Barber know if they found anyone.