Fighting Dirty
Page 54Amazingly enough, as he came, so did she—a third time.
Luckily, long minutes later when he freed her arms and pulled her against him, she said only, “I’m staying.”
Troubles faded away and Armie smiled. “I know.”
With him holding her close, she snuggled in comfortably and faded off to sleep. Armie, however, stayed awake much of the night.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT WAS STILL dark when the ringing of Armie’s phone caused Merissa to stir. She lifted her head and found Armie looking at her.
A blush immediately burned her cheeks. She’d refused to be put off, had forced her way into his house, and then allowed him to cuff her to his bed.
Giving her a knowing smile, Armie lifted her hand from his chest and kissed her wrist. “Next time,” he rumbled in a sleep-heavy voice, “we’ll use the ankle cuffs, too.”
“No—” she shook her head to emphasize that denial “—we won’t.”
“Little by little, Rissy. You’ll come around.” Releasing her, he stretched, then picked up the phone to see who had called. “Your brother,” he told her, already pushing up to sit against the headboard.
While he called Cannon back, Merissa made her getaway to the restroom. Scenes from the night before kept playing through her head. Armie hadn’t wanted her there.
If it hadn’t been for the noises she’d heard in her house, pride would have kept her from pushing the issue. As she had in the past, she would have walked away from him.
But the idea of going home alone spooked her, no way would she have imposed on her brother and Yvette—not after Yvette had just bought massage oil—and she wasn’t about to rent a room in her own small town.
So she’d swallowed her pride, forced herself on Armie and gotten phenomenal sex in return.
Not a bad trade-off.
Better safe than sorry.
She finished up and was about to leave the bathroom until she saw her wrecked hair in the mirror. She quickly brushed it, then went ahead and gargled and splashed her face. Still naked, she dried her hands—and Armie pounded on the bathroom door, making her nearly jump out of her skin. “Good grief, Armie!”
“Open up, Stretch.”
What in the world? She unlocked the door and Armie stepped in. He, too, was naked, and looking fairly pissed off.
Hands on her hips, Merissa asked, “What’s your problem?”
“You had the cops at your house last night and didn’t tell me.”
Oh. That. “How did you—”
“That’s why Cannon called. Damn it, Stretch, you should have told me last night.” He loomed closer, crowding her with testosterone and an angry vibe. “If I’d known that was why you wanted to stay over so badly, I wouldn’t have—”
“What?” she asked, her own temper sparking. And then leaning into his space even more, asked succinctly, “Cuffed me to your bed?”
Scowling, Armie opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
With a hand on his chest she shoved her way past him. “And for your information, I’d planned to tell both you and Cannon this morning.” How her brother had found out already, she wasn’t sure. Maybe Detective Riske had talked with him or something.
Behind her, Armie said nothing. After a long pause she heard the quiet closing of the bathroom door.
She headed into the bedroom to pull on clothes. The tight jeans, turned inside out and tangled on the floor, didn’t appeal, so instead she snatched up the T-shirt Armie had removed the night before. She and Armie were of a similar height but given the breadth of his chest and shoulders, the shirt drooped enough to cover her completely like a very baggy dress.
It was still early so she went to the kitchen to make some much-needed coffee. She’d just finished when Armie walked in carrying the book she’d bought and wearing only loose boxers that read: This is where my monster hides.
She heard the book drop to the table and a second later, warm arms closed around her, pulling her back into a warmer chest. Her hands naturally settled over his taut forearms, and she stroked the soft hair covering his colorful tats.
Armie’s whisker-rough cheek brushed her throat. “I’m sorry.”
Because she hadn’t expected that, she asked cautiously, “For what?”
“Being a dick, mostly.” He gave a toe-curling love bite to her shoulder. “But not for the sex, because the sex was a milestone for me.”
She doubted that, but said, “For me, too.” The sex was always amazing with Armie.
“I like your book.”
She snorted. “You would.”
His smile teased against her skin. “You planning to try some of the stuff in it?”
“I don’t know.” She wasn’t entirely sure what the book included. “Maybe it depends on whether or not you continue being a dick.”
Sighing, he let her go and stepped back, leaning on the table and crossing his powerful arms. “We both know I probably will, even when I don’t mean to.”
That gave Merissa pause. “You know I don’t expect you to be perfect, right?” The coffee finished and she poured two cups.
When he only watched her, she handed him the cup and smiled. “Since I’m not perfect myself, I don’t expect you to be. We’ll both screw up sometimes. No big deal.”
He rubbed at a shoulder. “Last night sucked.”
Her heart clutched.
Thankful for the clarification, Merissa took a seat and asked, “Will you tell me about it?”
He eyed the coffee, took a sip and made a sound of bliss. “All right. But right after, we’re talking about you.”
She could handle that. Gesturing at the chair opposite her, she said, “We have time this morning, right?”
“It’s early still.” He sat, sipped again, and then being far too brief, told her about the fighter, Carter Fletcher, and the boy, Bray Huggins.
“Someone is trying to sabotage your debut in the SBC?”
“I assume that’s what the note is about.”
He seemed less concerned with that than he was for Bray. “What will you do?”
His lean jaw bunched and he looked away. “No idea yet, but it’s probably going to get ugly.”
And he expected her to run scared?
His eyes narrowed. “It could also get dangerous.”
Maybe it already had. Maybe that had something to do with her break-in? If there’d been a break-in. She still didn’t know.
Refusing to look intimidated, Merissa asked, “And the boy? Were you able to resolve anything?”
Armie shook his head. “He’s back in protective custody. He’ll probably go to a familiar foster family—a family who cares for him. But...” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “It all sucks for him. A kid should be safe at home. He should have parents who protect him.”