Simon Says (32 page)

Even loving Simon wouldn't change things. She wouldn't let it.

I
T
nettled Simon to leave Dakota alone. He trusted in her common sense, in her ability to stay out of potentially dangerous situations. The problem wasn't with her, but with Marvin.

Any man ruthless enough to rape his own wife would be unpredictable. Marvin might not wait for the ideal time to further his harassment of Dakota. He might not be content to sit idle until she showed up alone and vulnerable.

Would he force his way into the motel?

Would he come at Dakota with more than a knife this time? Maybe a gun? Maybe the same two cronies who had attacked Barber in the parking lot?

Even as Simon considered all those possibilities, he understood Dakota's side of things. He was an independent man and not for a second would he let anyone hover over him with worry. Dakota was just as independent, maybe more so, given her past. She deserved some time and space.

No matter how badly Simon hated being away from her.

When Simon pulled into his driveway, the contractor was already there. He spent a little time discussing his mailbox and possible ways to clean it, then he went inside. He wanted to make good use of his time away from Dakota.

He called Barnaby.

So that he could see Dakota if she pulled in, Simon stayed by the front window. He watched the contractor work as the phone rang once, twice.

In a faint, hesitant voice, Barnaby said, “Hello?”

It infuriated Simon that he had to deal with the man. Not only because he'd skipped out as a father, but because he'd used some underhanded advantage against Dakota. “Where are you?”

Barnaby drew a breath. “Simon? Is that you?”

“Yeah.”

“I'd about given up hope! I thought—”

Impatience ripped through Simon's tone. “Where do you live? What state?”

“Why, I'm in Ohio.”

“Where in Ohio? How far are you from Harmony, Kentucky?”

There was a pause. “Only a few hours, I guess.”

“Perfect. If you want to meet, you can come to me.”

“But—”

“Take it or leave it. It's my only offer and it expires quickly.”

“I'd be glad to.” Barnaby sounded like a gleeful child. “When? What's your address?”

Simon didn't want him that close to Dakota. “There's a diner outside of town, right off I-71 South.” Simon gave him the exit number and general directions. “I'll meet you there tomorrow, six o'clock.”

Barnaby started to say something more, but Simon hung up. He tossed the phone onto a chair and rubbed the back of his neck. By the minute, it seemed things got more complicated, not just the way he felt about Dakota, but everything surrounding her.

He had an awful suspicion that she planned to confront Marvin, and Simon knew that if she did, it'd be his fault. He'd put the thought in her head that Marvin might be responsible for her mother's accident and death. While Simon applauded her courage, he detested the thought of her getting anywhere near Marvin.

With any luck, Barnaby would be able to provide some answers. If nothing else, maybe he'd tell Simon where he could find Marvin. Picking on a woman was one thing. Facing a man was another.

Simon would help him understand that when he messed with Dakota, he messed with a whole team of SBC professional athletes. If nothing else deterred Marvin, that ought to do it.

D
AKOTA
kept watch as she left the motel and walked to her truck. With every step, her muscles complained from the long workout. The shower had revived her so she wasn't quite so tired, but she was cold and hungry and…happy.

She had a knit hat pulled low to cover her ears, and a scarf around her neck. Every day it got colder. Before long, the holidays would arrive.

Would she still be with Simon? Would he expect her to meet his parents?

Thinking it made her nervous, so she blocked it from her mind and instead looked at the road in front of the motel. Traffic raced back and forth in a blur. Off to the side was a shabby convenience store, and behind the motel was a wooded hill. Dakota saw nothing suspicious—but she felt it. Marvin was around, and sooner or later he'd make a play for her.

The last time, she'd panicked.

The next time, she wouldn't.

No matter what happened, she would never again show him fear. He could rot in hell before she'd ever again show him a weakness.

That decision had liberated her in many ways; the future looked brighter, the past less painful. She felt stronger and more determined. Between her new mindset and the specialized fighting techniques she'd learned, she could face the world with confidence.

By rote, Dakota again looked around the area, and just in case Marvin lurked about, waiting for the right time to get her alone, to try to intimidate her, she put her shoulders back.

She smiled, too.

After pulling off her hat and loosening her scarf, she held out her arms and turned in a circle, presenting herself to Marvin—if he was around.

It felt so good to snub her nose at him that Dakota laughed. A few people looked at her strangely, but she didn't care. She waved at them and went on to her truck. Just as she reached it, the motel's outdoor security lights flickered on. This time of year, it got dark earlier.

Because she didn't trust Marvin, Dakota walked a circle around her truck to make sure she didn't have any slashed tires or key scratches. It all looked good, so she got inside, kicked on the heater, and drove away.

Marvin waited for her; she knew it deep in her bones.

But Simon waited, too.

All in all, a fair trade.

A
N
overgrown empty lot separated the convenience store from the motel. Harley leaned against the brick wall outside the store and stared after Dakota Dream's truck. After meeting her earlier in the day, he felt he had a handle on her personality and her appeal. Seeing her antics just now reaffirmed his assessment: Kooky broad. Lousy dresser. Very sexy.

At Havoc's gym, he'd watched her work with a few men and though he admired her gumption, when it came down to it, she was still just a woman and therefore no match for a man. At least, not a skilled man.

But she worked at it plenty hard.

Her low-key appearance cloaked beneath baggy sweat-suits and bulky layers couldn't keep him from seeing the obvious.

Tipping a beer to his mouth, Harley recalled the noticeable swells of hips and breasts, and the long length of her legs. Sublime wanted her, and that alone meant she had to look really fine beneath the ugly duds. Not quite in the same way as Bonnie, but in some ways, better. Earthier. More real.

As he tipped his beer up again, Harley noticed a man standing across the street from the motel by an idling car. He had his back to Harley so he, too, could stare after Dakota.

Lowering the beer, Harley studied him. Medium height, decent build. So was this Dakota's ex, the guy stirring up all the trouble and bringing up bad press?

Possibly.

While Harley tried to decide if he should investigate further, the man got in his car and drove away. Harley committed his license plate number to memory and headed back to the motel. He wanted to stretch out on the bed, watch a movie, drink another beer, and ponder ways to beat Sublime when they finally faced off in the spotlight.

W
HEN
Dakota reached Simon's door, she lifted her hand to knock and it opened. Simon stood there in well-worn jeans and nothing else. His gaze went over her, from her hair pulled into a ponytail to her thick coat to her new jeans and boots.

“Come on in.” He held the door open, and once she was inside he reached for the buttons on her coat. Without a word he opened her coat, looked at her new figure-hugging thermal top and snug-fitting jeans, and bent to kiss her.

Dakota started to put her arms around him, but he stepped back. “I like the new look.”

“Dean helped me pick out stuff. I don't think he likes shopping any more than I do.”

“Next time, I'll shop with you.” He took her coat, tossed it on a chair, then turned and headed toward his kitchen. “I was just finishing up some dinner. You hungry?”

“I could eat.” Appreciating how very sexy Simon looked, Dakota watched his bum in the low-riding jeans as she followed him through the house. “What are you cooking?”

“Grilled chicken fillets, baked potatoes with salsa, and salad.” He opened a small grill and removed the chicken. “I made coffee for you if you're interested. Help yourself while I get the potatoes.”

Seeing him bent at the oven, how his back and shoulder muscles flexed, Dakota couldn't take it. She strolled up behind him, ran both hands down the long line of his back and then onto his behind. “If you really wanted dinner,” she whispered, “you should have worn a shirt.”

He didn't jump, as she'd expected. He just forked the potatoes to lift them out onto a plate and stepped back from the oven. “Patience, Dakota. A man needs sustenance, you know.” He walked away to the table.

Dakota folded her arms. “I think you're a tease.”

“And you're a delight.” He winked. “But you had a hard workout, too, and you need to eat.”

“So this is about my needs, not yours? Because if it is, I'd say some needs take precedence over others.”

Acting very put out, Simon sighed, looked her over, and said, “You really don't want to eat first?”

Put that way…what the hell. She didn't care if she sounded irrational. “No. I'd rather have sex.”

Simon laughed. He gave a look at the food, shook his head, and started toward her. “I guess dinner can wait. It won't be as good cold, though.”

Dakota opened her arms. “Maybe you should make it quick, and then we can manage both.”

“Whatever you say, honey.”

S
IMON
told himself to go easy, that Dakota didn't know how her bold come-on affected him, or the tenuous way he'd held on to his control. Before she'd ever gotten to his house, he'd wanted her. With every minute that he waited for her, the need had grown.

When she showed up dressed so differently, looking hot and happy to see him, he'd had a hell of a time stepping back to focus on dinner. She did need to eat, just as she needed him to remember that this was all new for her.

But the second he reached her, she went on tiptoe for his kiss, her mouth open, her breath already coming fast—and Simon lost it.

He had her backed to the wall in a nanosecond, his kiss voracious, touching her everywhere, needing to feel her naked skin. He pushed up the thermal and fumbled at her front-closure bra. It opened and he cupped both breasts in his hands.

Dakota made a sound, but he had his tongue in her mouth and her nipples were tight and his impatience grew by the second. He released her mouth to suck at her throat as he struggled with the closure of her jeans. Her hands pressed on his shoulders, her nails biting into his flesh.

“Simon.”

The jeans opened and he shoved them down her hips. In the next instant, he had one hand pressed into the front of her panties, feeling the heat of her, prodding, opening her.

In a faint voice, she said again,
“Simon…”

He bent, closed his mouth around a taut nipple—and Dakota went rigid.

Opening his jeans in a rush, Simon lifted his head to look at her, and he froze. Her eyes were squeezed tight, her face turned away. Breathing hard, he touched her cheek, smoothed her hair. “Dakota?”

She didn't answer.

Damn. He looked down at their bodies, at how her jeans hobbled her legs and her shirt bunched up under her chin. He'd left a hickey on her neck. Her hands clenched his shoulders until her nails left half-moons in his skin.

Carefully, feeling like an ass, Simon kissed the corner of her mouth. Small, barely there kisses. He touched his mouth to her jaw, her cheekbone, her ear. This time when he cupped her breast, he did so lightly, barely caressing her, brushing tenderly at her nipple with his thumb.

He felt her stir, and closed his eyes in relief.

“Have you ever had sex against the wall, Dakota? No, don't answer that. I know you haven't. Not the way you will now.”

He ran his hand along her waist to her hip and back up again. “You wanted a quickie. That means I leave my jeans on, but yours are going to have to come off so I can get your legs opened really wide, wide enough for you to wrap them around me. What do you think of that?”

She whispered, “I don't know.”

“When we're done, you'll know that you like it. A lot.”

Her fingers unclenched, and she slid one hand up to his neck. “Will you kiss me again, Simon?”

“Yeah.” He put his mouth on hers, but let her set the pace this time. Against her lips, he murmured, “After dinner, when we've got all night, I'll kiss you everywhere. But for now, I'm going to finger you instead.”

She went still—but not in worry or fear. Her breath hitched and, in a rush, she kissed him deeper, her tongue twining with his, her body trembling.

Pleased with her, Simon lightly teased his fingertips down her stomach, then trailed them along the waistband of her panties, over the crotch, back and forth, until Dakota moaned.

“Open up for me,” he said, “as far as your jeans will let you.”

She did, planting her feet apart until she'd drawn the denim material taut. Simon dipped his hand into her panties, moved lower, and pushed two fingers into her.

Dakota put her head back on a gasp.

“Nice, Dakota, but not quite wet enough. Not for standing up.”

Without opening her eyes, she asked in a low rush, “Standing up?”

“Yeah. I'm going to take you right here, against the wall. What do you think?”

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip; his fingers got dampened by her response.

Simon smiled.

“You like that idea, huh? Will it bother you to be against the wall, honey? Because that's how it works.” Jesus, he was turning himself on with all the sex talk. He visualized everything he said, and knew he'd have to be in her soon, or he'd embarrass himself. “You'll have your back braced on the wall with me driving into you.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Simon released her and went to one knee. He found the zipper on each boot and tugged them off her feet. Dragging her jeans and panties down her legs, he said, “Step out.”

She still wore thick white socks, and Simon half smiled as he stood again and fished a condom from his wallet. He tossed the wallet on the table and opened the condom with his teeth.

Resting back against the wall, her shirt above her breasts, her eyes dazed and her cheeks flushed, Dakota watched him.

“You're okay?”

She nodded, and her gaze went to his dick as he rolled on the rubber. Simon pushed his jeans lower on his hips and stepped back up to her.

He cupped her face. “To do this, I'm going to be hard against you.” He moved his thumb over the corner of her mouth. “But I don't want you to feel a single twinge of uneasiness. If you'd rather go to the bedroom—”

In answer, she looped her arms around his neck. “Just keep looking at me, please.”

Not a problem, since he loved watching lust twist her beautiful features. “Hold on.”

Once she'd tightened her arms around his neck, Simon hooked his arms behind her knees and lifted her. Surprise made her gasp. Her legs were wide open and she had no way to control him or herself; all she could do was hold on to him.

He positioned himself, looked into her eyes, and in one long firm push, drove himself into her as far as he could go.

She cried out, and squeezed him tighter.

He growled at the sensation of sinking into her, possessing her.

God, she felt good, so snug and wet and open. It took iron control for Simon to restrain himself. “Okay?”

Breathing hard, her eyes locked with his, Dakota whispered, “You're so deep.”

And Simon lost it.

He kissed her again as he began the rhythm that'd put them both over the edge. He could feel her puckered nipples on his bare chest, heard the slap of flesh to flesh, felt her getting wetter, hotter, and he knew he wouldn't last.

“Come for me, Dakota,” he rasped.
“Now.”

She broke eye contact, arching her back and closing her eyes on a shattered moan. Her internal muscles gripped around him, squeezing in small spasms. Dakota heaved in his arms, forcing him to hold her tighter, nail her closer to the wall, and then he lost thought of everything but the awesome relief.

His legs quivered, barely keeping them both upright. With his face on her shoulder, he asked, “You okay?”

She swallowed twice before saying, “Yeah.”

He released one of her legs and flattened a hand to the wall. “Ready to stand?”

“No, but go ahead anyway.”

Levering himself away so he could see her face, Simon carefully let her other leg drop. From ribs to knees, they remained pressed tightly together, and Dakota whispered, “You're still inside me.”

“Don't.” He closed his eyes and struggled with himself. “Just be quiet.”

He sensed her smile when she said, “Okay, Simon.”

It took him another thirty seconds to gather himself enough to separate from her.

“That was…incredible.”

Emotion, sensation, and something else, all conspired to overwhelm him. “I said to be quiet.”

“Simon says, huh?” She ran her hands over his sweaty chest. “Well, I don't think you're in any position to give orders. You're even shaking.” She kissed his shoulder, and when he glared at her, she kissed his mouth.

“I did all the work, woman.”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

Her eyes were vivid blue, her ponytail ruined, and her mouth looked swollen from his kisses. Simon couldn't keep himself from cupping her face, kissing her again. But he did manage to swallow back melodramatic words that would be totally out of place, and said instead, “Do you think we could eat dinner now?”

“God, yeah. I'm starved.”

It wasn't until hours later, after he'd made love to her again and they were lying face-to-face in his bed, that Dakota apologized.

“I'm sorry that I lost it earlier.”

When she was near, he couldn't keep himself from touching her. He smoothed her thick blond hair, traced her eyebrows with a fingertip. “I pushed you too fast.”

Her lashes lowered, hiding her gaze. “I don't know why it happens sometimes, but I know that it'll probably happen again. I'm not afraid of you. I never have been. And I know you're not the type to ever hurt a woman.”

“Memories can be a son of a bitch. They come at you out of nowhere, sometimes when you least expect them. It's not a problem for me, Dakota. I just want you to tell me if I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you try to tell me, and I'm not listening, give me a good smack.”

She smiled. “No. I like you too much to hit you.”

Wanting more of an admission than that, Simon said, “Like, huh?”

Her gaze locked with his. “If you want me to be truthful—”

“I do.”

“Then I more than like you.”

That answer didn't really appease him either, but he didn't plan on making declarations, so it wouldn't be fair to expect them either. “I more than like you, too, Dakota Dream. You fascinate me.”

“When I'm pinned to a wall and you're inside me, or do you mean now, when I'm having a hard time expressing myself?”

Simon grinned. “All the time.” He caught her to him so that when he moved to his back, she ended up atop him. “When you walked into the gym that first day, acting like you owned the place and uncaring that a lot of men were eyeballing you, I admired your courage. When you were hurt from going down those stairs, your strength amazed me. When you make love with me, your naturalness is so refreshing.”

“Even when I freak out?”

He put both hands on her bottom. “Even then.” She was so honest that even in fear, she didn't hide herself.

“Simon?”

“You've worn me out, woman. I need some sleep. It's almost midnight and the alarm is set for six.”

Groaning, she dropped her face back to his chest. “I'm interfering again.”

He patted her backside. “The way you interfere would make every other fighter envious, trust me.” Leaving the light on, as he knew she preferred, Simon said, “Good night, honey.”

He felt the gentle press of a kiss to his sternum. “Good night, Simon.”

“Y
OU
should follow your own advice, little lady.”

Dakota kicked out, and Gregor blocked it easily. Tsking in a way that Simon could see annoyed Dakota, Gregor said, “Remember when you chewed my ear about telegraphin' kicks? Well, doll-face, you keep using that right and I'll keep blocking it. If you can't switch up—”

Just that quick, Dakota switched and kicked with her left, catching Gregor in his shoulder. Given that Gregor was a freak of nature with shoulders like boulders, it didn't hurt him, but it did make him stagger.

He grinned, saying, “There ya go. Let's mix it up a little.”

Simon grinned, too. They'd been sparring for a while, and Gregor was being very careful with her. He kept teasing her, and Dakota kept taking the bait. She needed to learn to fight with less emotion.

Not being an idiot, Simon knew exactly why she wanted to put so much into training: she hoped to meet up with Marvin. If she ever did, she'd need to put the emotion on hold. More than strength or speed, fighters needed to use their minds. They had to anticipate each move, plan each attack. That was best done cold, without the disruption of emotion to throw off the balance.

Simon would talk to her about that later, though. For now, he had a meeting.

He walked up to Dean, who was busy watching Harley and Mallet grapple. “I'm taking off for a few hours. If I don't make it back before she heads out, will you see that Dakota gets to her truck okay?”

Still watching the fighters, Dean asked, “Without her knowing?”

“Preferably.”

“Got it.” He turned to face Simon. “Where are you going?”

“I'm meeting with Barnaby.”

“You think that's smart?”

Simon looked at Dakota. Sweat darkened the back of her shirt. Her face was red with exertion. “Yeah. I have to figure out what the hell is going on, the sooner the better.”

“Should you be going alone?”