Simon Says (34 page)

“The way you've left Dakota alone?”

“Why shouldn't I have involved her? This is all her fault anyway! If she hadn't brought that goddamned Marvin Dream around, he'd never have recognized me, and we wouldn't be going through this now.”

Feeling ten times the fool, Simon considered all the options, but it wasn't easy. His calm demeanor was a ruse; he was in such a killing rage, he wouldn't trust himself to get in the ring with anyone.

He wanted to see Dakota.

And he would. Right now. The sooner, the better.

“This is what's going to happen, Barnaby, and I suggest you pay close attention.” Simon let him go, but warned, “Fuck it up and I can promise you won't be happy.”

With his face twisted in impotent anger, Barnaby rubbed his wrist.

“I want you to get hold of Marvin. Tell that cowardly prick that you want to meet with him here tomorrow at noon.” Simon would be there, waiting for him. And he'd make sure that Marvin understood a few things.

“With what excuse?”

“I don't care. Tell him whatever you have to, but get him here, Barnaby.”

“You're insane.”

“No, but I am going to end this farce.” He had to. Even now, knowing Dakota had lied to him, deceived him, he wanted to make sure she was safe. That meant he had to talk to Marvin before the police got hold of him. If Marvin managed to sidle out of this one, if he had alibis as Dakota feared, she might never have a chance to erase Marvin and his stamp of fear from her life. As added insurance, Simon explained, “After I have a little chat with him, I'm going to see the police and when they ask you questions, you will answer them.”

Horrified by that prospect, Barnaby pressed back in his seat. “I can't.”

“Wanna bet?”

“I could lose everything!”

This man could be his father, Simon thought, but he knew he didn't care, not even a little. In a flash of time, so many things went through his mind, moments with his dad, holidays and vacations as a family. He thought of long talks and the occasional scolding, looks of pride and fatherly advice.

His dad was a man of strong convictions, a man who loved his family and cared for them. His father would never cower this way, never abuse others for his own gain.

Blood didn't make a father; Simon had no confusion about that.

But the same as he would for any sniveling coward, Simon felt a twinge of pity for Barnaby. He wouldn't forgive him or make excuses for him because he had robbed Dakota of what she should have had. He'd robbed her of all the things that Simon had gotten from his stepfather. But at the same time, he despised seeing fear in anyone.

“Look at it this way, Barnaby. Talking to the police and starting with a clean slate is better than waiting until Marvin gets fed up and shoves you down some stairs.”

An arrested expression came over Barnaby, and he half laughed in utter defeat. “Yes, I suppose you could be right about that.”

“I am.” Simon watched him—and saw the moment he began calculating again.

“If you gave me a little time to sell the house, a little money as a cushion, I could disappear after telling the police everything.”

Simon shook his head. “I won't give you a single thing. Ever. Now get the hell out of my car. And Barnaby, call Marvin. Do it right away. Don't make me come looking for you.”

D
AKOTA
was really starting to get worried, when the knock sounded on her motel door. She peered through the peephole, saw Simon, and jerked the door open. Thrilled to see him, she reached up for a tight hug. “I've been waiting on you for hours.”

“Have you?” Sounding strange, he moved her aside so he could step in and shut the door.

In one quick glance, Dakota noted the odd tension in the set of his shoulders and the stiffness of his spine. “Where'd you go? All Dean said was that you took off. But you didn't say anything to me—”

“Was I supposed to clear it with you before leaving?” Eyes dark and cold, he stared down at her.

Dakota frowned. “No, I didn't mean that, but—”

His gaze went to her chest, and though she knew he noticed the SBC shirt she wore, he didn't comment on it. “Did you check before opening that door?”

His mood put her off, but twice now she'd lost her chance to explain about Barnaby as she'd planned. “I always do, not that I get many visitors here at the motel.” As Barber had said, Simon had to know about Barnaby, so despite the way he acted, she took a fortifying breath and bit the bullet. “I'm glad you're here. For a change of pace, I'm the one who wants to talk to you about something.”

“Really?” The sardonic smile made him appear almost cruel. He moved away from her to take off his coat. “Go right ahead. I'm listening.”

He tossed his coat on a bed and Dakota's heart began pounding in dread. She could feel some strange, angry pressure surrounding him. “Are you okay?”

His hand slashed through the air and, because of his hostile mood, she ducked without meaning to. When his expression turned more volatile, she rushed to explain.

“Sorry about that. I just…” She didn't know what to say, so she tried to be honest. “It's not that I'm afraid of you, Simon. But you have to admit that you're acting strange.”

Beneath a dark, long-sleeved pullover, his solid chest rose twice. Out of nowhere, his eyes narrowed and he reached for her, easing her closer. “I want you.”

As always, it took very little for Dakota to feel seduced with Simon. But damn it, she had to tell him everything. “Hold up, big boy,” she teased. “I want to talk to you, remember?”

“It'll keep.” He nuzzled her neck. “If I wait, I might change my mind, but I need you.”

“Damn it, Simon. What does that mean?” She tried to straight-arm him, to put some distance between them, but he kissed her and, where Simon was concerned, she had no willpower.

“Say yes, Dakota.”

He was so close that she felt his breath as he spoke. She could still taste his kiss. And he wanted her, he'd said so.

What the hell, she could tell him everything after they'd made love. Right now, he seemed so distressed that if she could make him feel better, she wanted to. “Okay, Simon.”

Something new and a little scary burned in his eyes. He took her hand and led her over to the side of the bed. Dropping down, he sat on the side of the bed and pulled her down on his lap. In the same movement, he kissed her hard and fast, deep and hot.

Dakota wore only a T-shirt, panties, and flannel pants. After working at the gym, she'd showered and changed into the comfortable clothes. Simon seemed voracious, licking and sucking at her skin along a damp path down her chest until he could latch on to a tightened nipple through her shirt.

She moaned at the shock of pleasure. It seemed every time they were together, the sexual tension was worse, sharper, and more frenzied.

To get rid of her clothes, Dakota tried to stand, but Simon kept a tight hold on her.

“No,” he said, and dropped back on the bed so that she sprawled over him. With both hands now in her bottoms, he palmed her backside, squeezed and caressed, then shoved the flannel pants down. Dakota struggled to kick them the rest of the way off while still touching and kissing Simon. Grabbing her shirt, Simon jerked it up and off over her head, then tossed it across the room. Completely naked, Dakota went to her side to help him undress.

He brushed her hands away from his shirt and urgently opened his jeans. Pushing them down only far enough to free his erection, he pulled her back atop him.

“Ride me, Dakota.” As he said it, he guided her thigh over his hips, helping her to straddle him. “Now. Right now.”

His hands were on her thighs, stroking, inciting her. Heat rose between them, scented by Simon's unique smell. He dipped one hand between her legs, sought through her pubic hair, and then, with a groan, pushed a finger into her.

Dakota felt the bold intrusion with shock and excitement.

“You're ready,” he murmured low as he pressed his finger deep, retreated, thrust in again. “More than ready.” Taking his hand away, he ordered again, “Ride me.”

With one hand he held himself at the ready and with the other he guided her hips down. Breathing hard and fast, Dakota stared at him as he entered her.

His eyes half closed, his jaw locked, and a feral sound came from him. His hand on her hip clenched as he encouraged her to sink lower, down, down, until her knees completely bent and she sat flush on him. The position drove him deep, so deep that it took away her breath.

For long moments they stayed like that, joined but unmoving, each anticipating the flood of sensations to come. Watching her, his expression both intent and somehow distant, Simon held her firm and lifted up the smallest bit. Dakota sucked in air—and released it on a moan.

“If we could stay like this…,” Simon whispered. His gaze went from her face to her breasts, then down to her belly. “But we can't.”

Lost in need, Dakota didn't understand. “Simon?”

Gently, he caressed her hips, up to her waist, her ribs, and over her breasts. Again, more softly this time, he ordered, “Ride me.”

Saying nothing, Dakota gathered her wits and looked at him. The dark, soft cotton shirt had ridden up above his abdomen, and Dakota ran one hand over the solid ridge of muscles there, through the trail of dark silky hair that descended from his chest, bisected his body down to his navel, then lower still. The muscles tightened even more, and inside herself, she felt his erection flex.

He was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen, but she didn't think it'd matter what he looked like. It was just something about Simon, some unnameable nuance that affected her in a mind-numbing way.

For the first time since breaking her mother's heart, she needed to please someone else. Having sex with Simon was indescribable, but she wanted more. She wanted his respect and affection, and admiration.

She wanted his love.

Bracing her hands on his chest, she used her knees to slowly lever up—then dropped hard.

They both groaned.

She did it again, and again, each time metering the pace, making it last, going as slow as she could until Simon began playing with her nipples, working her, stealing her control.

“Faster,” he whispered.

Dakota worked over him until her thighs began to burn, and still he didn't move, didn't help her in any way except to roll her nipples, tug at them. She wanted to scream in frustration. She needed to come.

“Simon.”

The second she cried his name he took over, driving up into her while holding her hips tight so that she felt the full impact of each deep thrust. It was enough. It was almost too much.

As an orgasm sizzled through her, Dakota cried out and at the same time, she heard Simon groan hard in his own release. When the sparks of pleasure gradually faded to oblivion, leaving them both spent and limp, Simon pulled her down to him, holding her tight, his face in her throat.

A few minutes later, two things occurred to Dakota at once. Simon hadn't worn a rubber. And she didn't care.

She pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his slowing heartbeat. Emotional words of commitment burned in her throat, but Dakota held them back. She wouldn't pressure him with her feelings. She wouldn't burden him this close to his comeback fight.

“You are one phenomenal man, Simon Evans. Thank you.”

Not only did he not reply, but his hands fell away to his sides, leaving Dakota with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Something was wrong, damn it. She had to know what.

“S
IMON?™

Their heartbeats mingled. Like the brush of velvet, he felt her warm inner thighs still around his hips.

His sperm was inside her.

Simon felt sick. At himself and his weakness and what he'd just done. He never took chances, damn it, yet he'd just made love to Dakota without protection. “What?”

“I need to tell you something.”

She wasn't going to blast him for forgetting the condom? “What is it?”

She pushed to sit up on his lap. “But first, I want you to tell me what's happened, why you're acting so distant.”

He was still inside her, and damned if her shifting around didn't stir him. Again. Would it always be that way? Would she keep him on the edge with that unfamiliar, emotional, overblown lust?

Her beautiful breasts were right there, her nipples now soft, her skin dewy from exertion. But more than that, he was aware of her face, of her uncertainty mixed with sated pleasure.

God, it was too much.

To close her out, Simon shut his eyes. But that didn't help much, not with the taste of her still on his tongue, the scent of her in his head, her warmth wrapped all around him. What was it about her? Why did she have this god-awful effect on him?

He'd walked out on Bonnie without a qualm.

With Dakota, he felt so connected, walking away would leave him permanently hollowed.

But he would not, could not, tolerate deception. “I didn't use a rubber.” Damn, but he was a fraud.

Time stood still. Dakota said nothing until he opened his eyes and looked at her.

Her small, cool hand cupped his face. Appearing introspective and solemn, she said, “Don't worry about that now. It'll probably be okay. The timing is wrong.”

“But you'll let me know?”

“I wouldn't keep something like that from you.”

She'd kept other things from him. Important things. Determined to get it together, Simon braced himself. “Did Barnaby call you?”

Caution kept her still. “When?”

That made him laugh, but not with humor. He could see it in her eyes; she planned to hedge, to continue with her manipulations. “Let's start with recently. Like today.”

“No.”

It was odd having this conversation with her straddling him, totally naked while he wore his clothes. He wasn't inside her as deeply now, but they were still joined.

Very odd.

But then everything with Dakota had been that way. “Are you sure, Dakota? And before you answer, let me tell you that there's no reason to lie. Not anymore.”

The acceleration of her heartbeat left her trembling. She licked her lips. “Someone said something to you. Barber? Did he tell you everything?”

“No.” Barber knew everything? He should have assumed as much.

Dakota didn't seem to hear him. “I wanted to tell you, Simon, I really did. I planned to. But we kept getting off track. Like now. I was going to tell you as soon as you walked in, but then you looked at me and you wanted me, and I can't seem to resist you at all.”

“Convenient.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “Are you calling me a liar?”

Ignoring that, Simon asked, “What did you want to tell me? Tell me now, Dakota.” He crossed his arms behind his head and gave her nude body a mocking glance. “I've got nothing better to do than listen.”

Challenged, as Simon had planned, Dakota lifted her chin and said, “Fine.”

Would she give him the complete truth? Or, not knowing for sure what he knew, would she continue to spin tales?

“There are things about Barnaby that I need you to know. First, he's not a nice guy—but I already told you that. And because of that…well, and because you and I are kind of involved—”

“Kind of?”

She scowled. “With you acting so strange, I don't want to make assumptions!”

Smart girl. “Go on.”

She drew in a breath. “While you were in Vegas, I called Barnaby and told him I was done. I told him that I wanted nothing more to do with him. I told him that I wouldn't be bringing you to him and that if he bothered us again I'd call the police.”

Simon refused to believe her. The timing was too perfect, too pat. But…had Barnaby said something about her calling it off? “I thought Barnaby had something you wanted.”

As if it no longer mattered, she shrugged. “Letters. But I'm not sure they exist, and even if they do…” She looked him in the eyes. “I decided they aren't worth losing you.”