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Authors: Lori Foster

Simon Says (29 page)

BOOK: Simon Says
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With her muscles on fire, Dakota gladly accepted the switch. How the men practiced full speed for up to six hours a day, she couldn't fathom. She'd only been at it since Simon's departure, and already she felt the strain in every muscle. Of course, compared to the men surrounding her, she looked downright scrawny.

Using the hem of her sweatshirt, Dakota mopped the perspiration from her face. Unlike the guys, who wore only shorts and regulation-weight gloves, she'd bundled up in a jog suit and sports bra. A breath of cool air and a hearty lunch would do her good—but she wasn't about to cry uncle, and Barber knew it.

With the gym packed and the men all working, it took them a few minutes to locate an empty mat. As usual, as soon as Dean came over to oversee their practice, Mallet, Mitch, Billy, and Gregor all stopped to watch, too. The small crowd they made drew the attention of the other fighters.

Dakota didn't like being the center of attention, but at least it spurred her on to do her very best.

Trying to look pumped instead of pooped, Dakota peeled off her gloves. In a real competition, the fighters would wear them. But she didn't practice in order to compete, and the others accepted that. “What's first?”

Standing there in nothing more than black nylon shorts and a big grin, Barber said, “Standing guillotine defense.” He moved behind her, put his right arm around her neck, locked it in, and said, “Let's see what you've got, sweetie.”

Dakota went through the defensive moves, knowing that Barber allowed her to do them by offering very little resistance. With the right move, he went flat on the mat beneath her. Keeping her grip on his left wrist, she stepped over his head with her right leg and finished by leaning her weight onto her left side and onto Barber's stomach for a reverse bent arm lock.

Barber tapped. And snickered…as did most of the guys watching.

Of course, her derrière was inches from Barber's face, with her legs on either side of his head.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “You're making it too easy on her, Barber.”

Dakota rolled off him, but Barber just lay there, sprawled out and still smiling. “Like you wouldn't?” A rumble of agreement came from the spectators, and a few even volunteered to coach her next.

“No.” Dean strolled onto the mat. “I won't.” He took a stance. “Let's go, Dakota.”

She stared at him. Somewhere along the way, Dean had not only decided that he liked her, but he'd made it his personal goal to better her skills. “You're not kidding?”

“Afraid not.”

Barber said, “She's learning by repetition.”

“At first,” Dean agreed. “Now she'll learn by actually defending herself.”

She didn't know if she liked the sound of that.

Without softening, Dean asked, “Do you want to improve?”

“Yes.” She wanted those same fast, automatic reflexes that the fighters had.

“Then you'll have to take your knocks.” He signaled for her to come closer. “So let's go.”

Did he plan to maim her? With everyone watching, Dakota couldn't back down. Barber moved out of the way, but sprawled on his side to watch. Mallet crossed his arms and grinned. Gregor, standing a head taller than the others, shouted, “Go get 'im, Dakota.”

Chin up, Dakota walked to Dean. “All right. What first?”

“We'll do an arm lock series—from the mount.” So saying, Dean went to his back. He braced his bare feet on the mat, which emphasized the muscles in his thick thighs and calves. Chest muscles bulging, he lifted his head and motioned her forward.

He wanted her to mount him?

Sure, she knew the mount was a vital part of positioning. She wasn't attracted to Dean
that
way, so she supposed it would be okay. And at least he wasn't planning to mount
her
. That would have been worse, because it might have caused her to panic, given how she reacted when in a submissive position.

Hoping to brazen through what she considered an awkward moment, Dakota shrugged. “All right. Sure.” She put her knees on either side of Dean's hips and…sat down. Other than embarrassment, she felt nothing.

Judging by Dean's expression, he didn't, either. She might have been another male. That made it easier.

But the men watching sure liked the show. Typical.

“Forearm choke?” Dakota asked.

“Whatever suits you,” Dean agreed. “But be ready to defend it.”

Seconds later, when Dakota found herself in a rather uncomfortable position, she realized she wasn't ready at all. Dean sat up with her, patiently explained each move that she'd done incorrectly or that she hadn't finished, and then went to his back again.

By the fourth try, they ended with Dakota on Dean's left, his arm secured in hers with his pinkie aimed at his chest. She dug her heels into the mat, lifted her hips—and got the armlock.

Dean tapped.

“Good job,” he said as soon as she let up. “Now let's do it again.”

And so it went for over an hour. Each man had something he wanted to contribute to her education, offering up suggestions, encouragement, and a few bawdy jokes. One by one, they took the mat with her to show her something from a different perspective.

They were all good at what they did, some more than others. They were careful with her, but diligent, and overall, Dakota found it so tiring that her embarrassment faded away. She learned a lot, and despite the male teasing from their audience, she had fun.

It was in the middle of an arm-bar counter against a standing front choke that she heard a familiar voice say, “What kind of welcome is this?”

From her position on the floor, Dakota cranked her head around to look up. And there stood Simon, arms crossed, feet planted apart—and looking so gorgeous she couldn't help but grin. “Simon!”

Twisted together with Dean, Dakota had his arm locked against her chest, her legs around his head, with both of them belly down on the mat.

Tone dry, Dean said, “Now might be a good time to let me up, Dakota.”

“You think?” Laughing, she scrambled to free herself and get to her feet. Everyone watched them. Feeling conspicuous at the gym was starting to be a habit. But it didn't stop her from rushing over to Simon and saying quickly, “I've been practicing and I
think
getting a lot better.”

Simon's gaze moved from her face to somewhere behind her and a second later, she got locked in a tight embrace from the rear.

Without even thinking about it, Dakota executed several moves, countering each new one until she was able to do a sweep with her right leg, dropping her attacker to the mat. Keeping her own balance, she shifted quickly and caught him in a standing arm bar.

Barber groaned and laughed at the same time. “Yep, she's definitely better, Simon.”

“So I see.”

Dakota scowled. “That was to give a demonstration to Simon?”

From flat on his back, Barber winked. “You know you were dying to show off for him.”

She had been, but…“Doofus.” Dakota helped him up and, one by one, the crowd dispersed. “You know you could still brush me off like a fly.”

“Maybe, if I was really pissed. But most guys without training would have their hands full.”

“You mean it?”

Barber smoothed her hair. “Yeah.”

Suddenly she felt herself hauled to the side. Simon leaned forward and put a warm kiss to her mouth—right in front of Barber. “You smell like male sweat.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That'd be Dean, Barber, and Mallet.”

Expression carefully blank, Simon asked, “No one else?”

Barber chuckled. “Sorry, bud, but I'm afraid the whole gym took part.”

Simon gazed around the crowded room. He didn't look happy. “I suppose they had good intentions?”

“Dean made sure they did.”

Simon relaxed. “I owe him.”

Dakota shook her head at both men, then said to Simon, “I'd be showered and fresh, but you weren't due home for hours.”

“I got done ahead of schedule and was able to catch an earlier flight.” His attention went to Barber. “Everything go okay?”

“Haven't seen hide nor hair of anyone suspicious.” Barber clapped him on the shoulder, picked up a towel, and headed off.

Left somewhat alone, Dakota moved from foot to foot. She wanted to throw herself against him. She wanted to take him to the mat and kiss him senseless.

“What are you thinking, woman?”

“I was thinking that this time I'm the one who's a sweaty mess, otherwise I'd greet you with…more enthusiasm.”

“Soon.” He took her chin in his hand and moved her face from side to side. “Your bruises are fading.”

“I'm a fast healer.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Wrung out like a limp dishrag. But that's from working here. Dean is ruthless. But he's also real clear about what I should do and when.”

His large hand went to the side of her neck. “Other than that, you're okay?”

“Good as new.”

“How about we get out of here, then?”

“I need to go to the motel to shower and change.”

“You rode here with Barber?”

“Yes.”

“My car is outside.” He held out a hand. “Let's go.”

C
HAPTER 17

A
FTER
barely sponging off the worst of the sweat in the locker room, Dakota joined Simon and they went to his car. Unlike the men, she couldn't use the shower room at the gym. It was a big open space with no privacy.

Of course, the guys always volunteered to wash her back—not that she'd tell Simon that. Somehow she didn't think he'd appreciate their humor.

“What's all this?” His backseat overflowed with shipped boxes.

“Freebies. You might want some of it. There are some energy drinks and bars, shorts and towels. A new type of razor, too.” Grinning, Simon ran a hand over his clean-shaven head before fastening his seat belt. “They'll be sponsoring me in exchange for a few ads.”

After Dakota latched her belt, too, Simon started the car and left the gym parking lot, saying, “That other box, the one near the door, is filled with SBC T-shirts and sweatshirts. I figured with your fondness for printed tops, you could make use of them.”

The way he said it with so much nonchalance gave him away. “You mean instead of the shirts that Barber gives me?”

“Exactly.”

His possessiveness thrilled her. He wasn't overbearing with it, and he never tried to bully her. It just…showed that he cared. And that never ceased to amaze her. Dakota stared at him, and smiled.

Afternoon sunlight limned his profile, highlighting the straight line of his nose, the sensual curve of his mouth, his strong chin and firm jaw. “You're too handsome, Simon, do you know that?”

His grin flickered. He lowered the visor to block some of the sun. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Don't be modest. It's true. You're like…better than good-looking.” She shook her head. “It's unnerving. And almost scary.”

“Scary?”

His concern only baffled her more. She was an okay-looking woman. Not a hag, but not a real beauty, either. She had a strong figure, not a supersexy bod. In almost every way, she rated average. Simon was so above average that she didn't even know what to call it.

And he wanted her.

“Not that kind of scary.” She pulled at her sweat-soaked top. “Look at me. At my best, I'm no match for you. And right now, I'm bordering on gross.”

Without smiling, without a word, Simon reached out a hand to her. When she took it, he carried it to his lap and pressed her palm to his growing erection. “Whatever you are, Dakota, I like it. A lot. I can't recall ever wanting a woman as much as I want you.”

His bold honesty had her heart beating double time. She started to curl her fingers around him, but he returned her hand to her side of the car. “None of that or I won't make it to the motel, and you definitely won't get your shower.”

That snapped her out of the fog. “Trust me, Sublime, no matter how irresistible you are, nothing's happening until I'm done bathing.”

Stopping at a red light, Simon turned toward her. He studied her in silence for a few seconds. “You do realize that you're touching on a sore spot, right? I mean, all the other fighters have great names. Havoc. Mayhem. Spider. Viper.”

Dakota fought back a laugh. “Yeah. Makes them sound real adorable.”

“Adorable isn't the point.”

“I suppose not.”

The light changed so he pulled away. “Almost from jump, I got stuck with Sublime.”

“Poor Simon,” she teased. “You don't need a badass name to shore you up. You do well enough without it.”

In an odd mood, he said, “So far.”

That surprised her. “You're worried about winning your comeback?”

“No. But I'm always aware of possibilities.” He studied their surroundings as he drove. “Harley came to see me while I was in Vegas.”

Dakota didn't know what to make of that. “He lives there?”

“No, but he was in town, too, for promotion.”

A wisp of anger unfurled. “He wasn't there trying to challenge you, was he?”

“No.” Simon grinned. “Actually, he's a good fighter, and from what I can tell, a good man. I believe Mallet and Gregor are friends with him. They've trained at the same camps, sparred, that sort of thing. Harley's had some rough breaks that've kept him from getting the title belt, but he's due. It should be a good fight.”

“So what did he want with you?”

Simon pulled into the motel lot. “Back when he slept with Bonnie, he didn't know she was living with me.”

“And?”

Shrugging, Simon said, “He wanted me to know that he hadn't sought her out on purpose. She was in a bar and, according to him, she gave the come-on, not the other way around.”

“Does it matter?”

Turning toward her, Simon smiled. “Not really.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “Let's go, woman. My patience is running thin.”

Simon took her gym bag and, after escorting her from the car, locked it. No one paid them any attention as they entered the motel and went to her room. Once inside, Dakota said, “I'll make it quick.”

But Simon caught her hand. “I'll shower with you.”

She looked down at her grungy clothes, thought of her sweaty hair, and said, “Wouldn't you rather—”

“I'd rather be inside you right now. It's all I've been able to think about for three damn days.”

Her mouth went dry. She could almost feel him pushing inside her, and it excited her unbearably. “Well, if you put it that way…Sure. Why not?”

In minutes, Dakota had the shower adjusted, her hair out of the ponytail, and her sweatshirt and sneakers off. Steam swirled around her as she wrestled with her socks. She heard a noise and looked through the open bathroom door to the sleeping area in time to see Simon toss his slacks and boxers on the bed. He'd already removed his sweater, shoes, and socks. He straightened, and then just stood there, totally naked, looking at her—mostly at her bared breasts—and she almost melted.

She'd never survive this. Still balanced on one foot, she whispered, “Lord have mercy.”

Simon's expression darkened even more. “Finish undressing.”

“Yeah.” Dropping down to sit on the side of the tub, unable to take her gaze off Simon, Dakota peeled off the socks. She stood again—and felt a twinge of shyness.

Simon stepped into the minuscule bathroom with her, but he didn't reach for her. “Take them off, Dakota.”

She nodded. “It's good that the lights are on. I mean, I don't think I could do this in the dark because my mind would start thinking ignorant things. About Marvin, I mean, and what he did. But I wouldn't want to miss seeing you anyway. And the light in here is pretty bright, don't you think?”

Simon frowned. “Don't be nervous, honey.”

“No.”

“I don't want anyone else occupying your thoughts but me.”

Looking at his body, Dakota raised a brow and said, “I think that's doable.”

“Get naked.”

“It comes back to that, huh?” She firmed her mouth, hooked her thumbs in the elasticized band of the jogging pants, and pushed them down, taking her panties with them. She stepped out of them and glanced at Simon.

Breathing deeply, he looked her over from head to toes, lingering everywhere in between.

“Do I pass?”

“Yeah.” He sounded hoarse. “You pass.” Then suddenly he was there, pushing back the shower curtain and lifting her into the tub. Seconds later, when her back flattened against the icy tile wall, Dakota gave a small shriek. Simon smothered the sound with a deep kiss, at the same time turning so that it was his back to the wall and she had the dominant position.

One of his big hands held the back of her head, keeping her there for his kiss, for the teasing of his tongue and the nip of his teeth. His other hand went down her back to her bottom. He gave a gentle squeeze—and groaned about it.

Wow, he was impatient. And with his erection pressed solidly against her belly, she knew he was more than ready, too.

He was so tall and hard all over that he overwhelmed her, and little by little, the ruthlessness of his touch and kiss eased into a tender exploration. Dakota ran her hands over his shoulders, loving the bulk of his muscles and the sleekness of his skin. She trailed her fingers through his dark chest hair, over his pecs, and down to his tight abdomen.

Pulling his mouth away, Simon tipped his head back against the shower wall and groaned. A split second later, he caught her wrists. “Sorry. I can't take too much of that right now.”

Dakota stared into his dark brown eyes, inspired and excited. “What if I don't want to stop?”

His eyes glittered beneath wet lashes. “I'll come.”

“I don't think that sounds so bad.” With their gazes locked, she pressed against his restrictive hold until he released her. Watching him, loving the strain in his face, she wrapped both hands around his jutting penis.

His breath caught.

Her breath caught, too.

The shower sprayed against them until her hair was soaked, streaming down her back. Steam rose around them. Dakota couldn't recall ever feeling so connected to a man and what he wanted. It was…exhilarating.

“Relax for me, Simon. Let me enjoy you for a little while.”

Breathing harder, his nostrils flared and his body taut, Simon dropped his hands to his sides and braced his feet apart. “Have at it, sweetheart.”

A challenge? Slowly, Dakota smiled and let her gaze drift from his face down his body. “You are such a treat.” She leaned forward and opened her mouth over his chest, tasting his skin, breathing in the hot scent of him. And all the while, she held his flexing erection tight in her hands. She didn't stroke him, not yet. She just held him.

Every so often he twitched, as if he couldn't control himself.

Because she didn't want to relinquish her hold on him, Dakota caressed and explored the rest of him with her mouth. His throat, his shoulders, his jaw. Simon turned his head and caught the kiss, taking over for a brief moment, kissing her long and deep. He didn't raise his hands or in any way touch her, other than with his kiss.

It was so erotic that Dakota felt herself on the edge, too.

To put things back on track, she squeezed Simon. He tightened all over, giving up the kiss so he could lock his teeth against a harsh groan. Expecting to see his eyes closed, Dakota looked up at him.

He stared at her, and there was so much there in his dark gaze that she wanted to both cry and smile, and beg him to love her.

Instead, she slowly lowered herself to her knees, trailing her tongue along his heated flesh until she reached his navel. Her chin bumped the head of his cock and he jerked hard. She liked that reaction, and turned to rub her cheek against him.

Simon made a small sound, and his hands curled into fists. Teasing him, Dakota left a warm, wet trail of love bites along his hip bone. His scent was so much stronger here, drawing her, heightening her awareness.

It quickly became too much. Still holding him in both hands, she drew the head into her mouth and sucked.

Simon went rigid with a curse. His hand caught the back of her head, his fingers tangling hard in her hair. “Dakota. Baby, don't.”

His response amplified her own. Awed by the silky texture of his flesh here, the way he swelled even more, grew harder and longer, she worked her tongue around him. A bead of fluid escaped, giving her his taste.

She loosened one hand from him so that she could stroke his thigh, feel the muscles so bunched and rigid. With the other hand, she stroked in counterpoint to the glide of her mouth over him.

Simon sank both hands into her hair and began guiding her. With each stroke his breath grew harsher, deeper.
“Last chance,”
he warned in a low growl, and he tried to draw her away.

Dakota wanted everything from him.

Giving up, he pulled her close, pushed himself into her mouth two more times, a third. And then he was coming, his moan rough and loud in the small shower, his body tensing in rhythm to his release until he was completely spent.

Feeling warm and soft, Dakota drew away and looked up the length of his gorgeous body. Eyes closed, head back, chest still billowing, Simon looked like a female fantasy. And for right now, he was all hers.

More than satisfied, Dakota licked her lips, then slowly stood and hugged herself to him. Simon managed to loop one arm around her, and again, he tangled his fingers in her wet hair. She indulged that quiet comfort for half a minute before she pushed away and made use of the soap while Simon barely opened his eyes.

“God, you are a sexy woman.”

Covered in lather, Dakota laughed. “Yeah, that's me. A regular femme fatale.” Teasing him, feeling powerful, she licked her lips again. “You taste very good, Simon.”

His eyes narrowed. “And what about you, sweetheart?” He levered away from the shower wall and took the soap from her. “When do I get to taste you?”

BOOK: Simon Says
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