The Fighter's Defiant Lover (The Burton Brothers Series Book 4) (3 page)

“Jasmine—”

“Don’t stop. You feel so good.” She tried to pull him back into a kiss. Why was he being so difficult over something as simple as a kiss? She knew now that he’d felt this…this whatever between them. A spark. A pull. A…a something good. She hoped.

He grabbed her wrists. “Right back at you, but I don’t want you to have any regrets come morning. Hell, I don’t want to have any regrets.”

She pulled back and stared at him. And then she heard the front door open and bang shut. She sat back, Dustin let go of her as if she was on fire. Jasmine turned to see Rachel and Beck walking in from the front.

Rachel gave her a long, hard look—one that said, ‘I know what you’ve been doing.’

Face hot, Jasmine put a hand to her hair. Dustin hadn’t even touched her and her body was reacting. Oh…oh, yeah, the no bra thing and nipples poking at her T-shirt. Her neck went hot, too. “Uh…hi?”

Rachel glanced at Beck—who was staring at Jasmine. She jabbed him in the ribs and smiled at Jasmine. “So glad you decided to stay with us. Bryant and Alice are going to be staying with Chaz tonight. You’ll get a chance to meet them tomorrow. Now, how about you come upstairs with me and we can catch up for a few minutes before I fall asleep?”

Hunching over a little, Jasmine smiled. She shot a look at Dustin. He was staring at anything except her, but she didn’t miss the bulge in his jeans. She smiled at Rachel. “Uh…sure, that sounds good.”

She followed Rachel upstairs and sat cross-legged on the bed as Rachel changed and scrubbed off her makeup. Jasmine told her everything—but she was tired of telling the story. Hell, she was tired of Frankie. And she told Rachel that. “I mean, I supposed I should yell at Frankie for what he did, but I got tired of him calling me, hounding me. So I called the cell phone company and had them change my number.”

Rachel came out of the bathroom with a towel around her shoulders. She raised her eyebrow and smiled. “That was smart thinking. Frankie won’t be able to find you. Is there anything back in Las Vegas you need?”

“You know what, I’ve turned my world upside down before. There isn’t much back there for me now. Besides, knowing Jimmy, he’s not a guy who takes no well. I’ll bet he’s got someone watching the apartment.”

Rachel sat on the bed next to her. “I haven’t talked to Beck about this, but I already know what his answer will be. We have an empty bedroom just gathering dust. Why don’t you move in with us for a time? You can find a job, or even think about some college classes? When Chaz gets out of the hospital, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Jasmine’s head was spinning, “Are you suggesting I just walk away from my life in Las Vegas and start over?”

“You already walked away. Do you have any great reasons to go back? Come on—haven’t you been bitching at me for years about how you love the dancing and hate Vegas? Stay here and make a new life with us. At least for a time. Besides, Chaz is going to be so excited to see his ‘Tanta’.”

“No fair playing the Chaz card. I can’t wait to see him. I’m so glad the treatment is working. Seeing him grow weaker each day was killing me. Okay—I’ll stay. But I’m not saying it’s forever.”

***

“You’re going to end up stuck forever if you’re not careful.” Beck walked into the kitchen and grabbed himself a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Like I don’t know that?” Dustin shoved his hands into his pockets. “Girl just needs a place to chill. Seems her ex-boyfriend made a little drug deal where he included a month of personal attention from Jasmine as payment to the guy.”

“No shit! And just who is the guy?”

“Jimmy Tressor.”

“Tressor? That name’s familiar.” Beck put his bottle of water down and pulled out his Smartphone. He swiped at it and gave a low whistle. “That girl is in more than serious trouble. I thought I knew the name. Look,” He held out his phone, and Dustin stared at an article about James Tressor being under investigation for fixing fights in Vegas.

“Mob?” Dustin asked.

Beck nodded. “With connections to the Russian-American Mafia, if rumors are true. So far the guy’s been able to duck any arrests, but I know he ran a group of underground fight clubs that extended way beyond the city limits of Las Vegas.”

Dustin’s gut tightened. He had a special hatred for that—his brother had died fighting in one of those underground clubs. The legitimate mixed martial art fighting associations had all declared his fight clubs a violation of their ethics, but that didn’t stop them from running.

Putting his phone away, Beck asked, “What did you tell her to do about the situation? Or did you all not get that far into your discussion?”

Dustin rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t even go there. I…that woman is sin on legs. Really, really long legs. I keep telling myself I’m in training.”

Beck laughed. “I saw that look in her eyes. You’d better hope Rachel is warning her friend off you.”

Dustin looked alarmed, “Why would she do that? I’m one of the good guys.”

Beck shook his head. “Yeah, but you have a fight coming up. That means Mason’s going to be kicking your ass up and down the ring, and you better keep your focus on the fight. You know how you get when a girl comes into it. What was the last fight you lost?”

Dustin gave a groan. He’d become superstitious about girls and fights now—his last girlfriend had cost him his last fight because he’d been paying her too much attention. He knew that, Beck knew that, Mason knew that—even Bryant, the other Burton brother, knew that. That didn’t help with thinking about just how well Jasmine could kiss. But he knew he needed to focus, and that meant staying away from Jasmine.

God, I hate when logic comes into play!

Three weeks. Three frigging weeks and Dustin’s totally been avoiding me.

Jasmine gave a low, frustrated growl as she let herself into the garage. Neither Beck nor Rachel’s cars were here, meaning they must be spending the night at the hospital with little Chaz. She’d spoken with Rachel a little over an hour ago, and Rachel had said they’d probably take the nightshift. And Dustin was training. He did that a lot. A way lot. She let out a breath and headed inside.

She toed off her shoes and rolled her shoulders. Okay, so maybe it was a marvel that she was now calling this upscale neighborhood home. Beck and Rachel’s spare bedroom had more comforts of home than her home ever had.

Mrs. Maxwell had already called Jasmine to say she was officially adopting Timmon, who was now being totally spoiled—he’d never liked the late hours she’d worked. He deserved a good home. And she had a new job. At a department store selling makeup. She was even good at it.

She still needed to see about getting her clothes here, and the few things she wanted, and she had to find a dance class soon. She didn’t want to give that up. Dance had always been her salvation—her sanity.

She also needed to get her butt over to see Chaz. She hadn’t been to the hospital for three days. He’d been upset on her last visit when he couldn’t sit on her lap. Jasmine had started flying him like she was a pretend airplane when he was just barely old enough to sit up. He still loved and wanted to play that game—and germs didn’t come into it. She’d tried to explain and had ended up promising to invent a new game. She still had that to do, too.

She grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge. If she had the night to herself in this massive house, she intended to enjoy it.

She stopped by her bedroom, changed into her skin and a robe and headed out to the deck. She shivered as her bare feet hit the cold wood. But the hot tub beckoned.

Her cell phone beeped and she glanced down to see an unidentified number on the screen. She almost answered it, but she’d changed her number. No one had this number that she hadn’t personally given it to.
Must be a telemarketing call.

She tossed the phone on the table next to the hot tub, which sat in the corner of the deck with a pergola over the top to help keep the sun off in the summer and the snow from piling up on the cover in winter. Opening the cover, she pulled off her bathrobe and slipped in fast. Hitting a button, the bubbles flowed.

She closed her eyes on a sigh as she sank lower, leaving only her head and a few inches of her neck out of the water. When she felt her hair floating on the water’s surface around her, she grimaced. She’d forgotten to grab a clip.

Rachel kept hairclips in the basket next to the door, but that would require her getting out of the warmth and walking across the deck naked and freezing.
No way! That is so not happening.

Half-smiling, she sank further beneath the water, using her hands to smooth the sides back, uncaring now that it was getting even wetter. She closed her eyes and allowed her body to float and move as it would in the frothing water.

She sighed as the pulsing water began to work the stress from her back and shoulders. She really needed to get her body moving. Maybe a yoga class would help?

She rubbed her hands over her body, letting her fingers trail over her stomach, and playing with the urge to move them lower. Visions of Dustin filled her mind. She wished he was here…now. They could burn out some of their mutual lust.

She let her fingers trail to her thighs, imagining his strong hands on her. She stroked into the folds of her sex—he’d be good at this. She gave a soft moan and brought one hand up to tweak her nipples. She wished she had his mouth on her, kissing, nipping, licking.

Shaking her head, she pulled both hands away and clenched her fists tight. She’d been trying to wipe Dustin’s face, and the desire for him, from her mind every day now. Nothing had worked and she was growing more frustrated each day. And this was only winding her even tighter.

She’d resisted asking Rachel about him. She knew he was still around—she’d hear him sometimes, showering in the mornings, or hear the hum of his car’s engine as he pulled into the drive long after she’d gone to bed. But he was always up before she was and didn’t come home until way too late. Oh, well, it probably was for the best to keep it that way.

Pushing herself up in the water, she opened her eyes, looking around for her water. She saw a figure move and gasped. Then Dustin stepped into the light from the house, and Jasmine’s pulse shot up to the sky.

***

Training hadn’t been going so well.

Mason was one of the best—and next to him there was Alice’s dad, Anders, who had a training camp in Oregon, and Dustin was thinking of going there. He wasn’t sure it’d help. He’d had one good fight and one really bad one.

Normally, he wouldn’t get another fight quite so soon, but he was being given a chance to fight on the same circuit as Bryant. A dislocated shoulder had forced one fighter to pull out. Dustin jumped at the spot—a win could advance his career in one fast move.

But Dustin’s mind kept wandering to things that were not a fight. His ground game was off, his standing game even worse, and Mason had finally kicked Dustin out of the dojo, saying, “Go. Relax for a few days. You’ve been here too many hours lately. You’re going to fry yourself with overtraining.”

So Dustin had headed home early for a change. He’d called Beck’s home phone to see if anyone was there, but no one had answered. That wasn’t a big deal. Beck and Rachel were probably at the hospital—no cell reception there, either. He parked his car in front of the house and let himself in.

He listened and didn’t hear anyone moving around. No television playing. He’d been hoping Jasmine would be in bed early—she had been most nights, so he could only assume she was keeping busy. The only lights on in the house were in the kitchen area and dining room. He heard the hum of the hot tub and headed that way, drawn by the sound and the irresistible thought that she might be in there.

Dammit, he’d tried this the Burton way—keeping his head low and avoiding trouble. Now he was done with that. Mason wanted him to find a distraction and blow off steam. Well, he knew only one thing that did that really, really well.

His heart rate increased as he opened the door to the deck and his breath caught. He saw the steam rising from the tub, and then he saw her. Her hands came up and brushed her hair back on both sides of her head. With her dark, exotic looks, she could be some Pacific island babe—and that smile was ten kinds of trouble. Which was just what he wanted tonight.

He felt his body tighten and his mouth dried. And the woman responsible for his lack of focus offered up a wicked smile.

Dustin wandered out onto the deck. It was cold, but he had sweats on—and a fire burning in his guts. “You’re still up.”

Her smiled widened. Dustin resisted the urge to glance down and see just how up he was and tenting his sweats. “Surprised to see you,” she said. Somehow the words, said with that husky voice, sounded like an invitation.

“Mason sent me home. Seems I’m now training too much. Guy usually tells me I need more. Now he says I need to be distracted.”

“Distracted?” Jasmine asked, turning so her elbows rested on the edge of the hot tub.

Dustin nodded. He kept his eyes on her, not missing the way they darkened as she let her gaze travel the length of his body. That was it. He was done with trying to be Mr. Nice Guy.

He pulled off his sweat shirt, toed off his shoes and dropped his sweat pants. Jasmine gave a satisfying gasp. She backed away from the edge of the hot tub. “What are you doing? I mean, obviously, you’re taking off your clothes—but…why?”

Dustin grinned. “Any objections to my coming in?”

Jasmine smiled and shook her head.

Climbing into the hot tub, Dustin quickly lowered himself into the water. Moving across the tub, he braced an arm on either side of Jasmine, leaning over her so she needed to tip her head back against the edge to maintain eye contact. “Come here often?”

She gave a soft hum and put her hands on his chest.

Dustin watched her for another minute and then lowered his head to her lips. The kiss started out slow—he wanted to take his time, taste her, explore. That didn’t last. She kissed like she talked—with everything she had. Body on fire, he pulled away, his breathing harsh and gasping for air. “I told myself I was going to go slow.”

Jasmine rubbed her lips with a fingertip and then reached down under the water to rub him. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“This is crazy, you know that?”

“I don’t care. I want you. No, I need you. I’m going crazy, not knowing how good it could be between us.”

Dustin turned, pulling her with him. He found a seat on one of the benches and pulled Jasmine onto his lap. She pressed herself against him. He claimed her lips again, and skimmed his hands over her breasts. She gave a soft moan, so he reached for her nipples. He rolled the hard nubs between his thumbs and forefingers. She arched and gave another moan.

“When are Beck and Rachel due home?” he whispered against her skin. He didn’t want company interrupting.

Jasmine shook her head slightly, “They’re not. They’re staying at the hospital tonight.”

“Good.” Dustin dropped his lips to run his mouth over her jaw line. Moving to her ear, he bit down gently on the fleshy lobe. He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him so he could feel every glorious inch.

She opened her thighs for him and rubbed against him. “God, I need you inside me,” she said. “Now. As in right now.”

“What about—”

“On the pill. And I hope you trust me when I say I’m clean. I haven’t had sex with anyone in over a year, and first thing I did when I booted my ex was to get a full checkup.” She took his face in her hands. “Please, don’t make me wait any longer.

Dustin groaned. He wasn’t sure he could wait, even to grab a condom. Grabbing her hips again with one hand, he stroked his fingers into her. Was she wet enough? She was. Even with the water lapping at her, she was leaking her own slickness. He pushed off the seat. She wrapped her legs around him. And he slipped into her as if he was coming home.

She threw back her head, and he leaned down to kiss her breasts—and then suck on the hard nubs. She ground her hips into him. “More of that, stud.”

He bit harder, sucked even harder. She bucked against him. Pulling her close he tasted her neck and then bit down on the pulse point. She opened even more for him. Pushing her back against the side of the hot tub, he set up a pounding rhythm. She pressed her palms against his chest, so he caught her wrists and held her against the edge of the tub.

She looked up at him, eyes bright and smiling. “Oh, yeah. Fuck yeah.”

The water wouldn’t let him go as hard or as fast as he wanted, but Dustin pressed into her. She arched again and he leaned down to kiss her breast and then tug on the nipples with his teeth. She gave a gasp and went limp in his arms—and the world went white for him.