She wanted to argue the point, he could tell, the same way he knew she was holding back when she said, “I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“I want to be there with you when you do.” If the bastard threatened her in any way, he wanted to know about it. And damn it, he couldn’t trust Cherry to tell him. “Okay?”
Rather than agree, she evaded. “The longer I wait, the more annoyed he’s going to be.”
“Am I supposed to give a shit if he’s annoyed?”
“You should.” She chewed her bottom lip in indecision, but then must have come to a conclusion. “He’s dangerous, Denver.”
“So am I.”
As if to pacify him, she touched his arm. “I know, but not in the same way.”
For whatever reason, Carver and his brothers had a stranglehold on her. He’d have to tread lightly, because no way would he hurt her—not ever again.
Stomping down his irritation, he removed her hand. “Give me a second, okay?” He left the bed and went into her small bathroom to get rid of the condom, giving himself a moment to get his thoughts together.
When he returned, he found Cherry sitting there exactly as he’d left her, unconcerned with her nudity.
It was a wonder he could think at all, seeing her like this, knowing she was his for the taking.
He got into bed with her, sitting with his back against the headboard. “Let’s call him now.”
Her face went blank. “Now?”
“Yeah.” He had a feeling if he didn’t press the issue right now, while he was with her, she’d take care of it as soon as he was gone.
“You said you understood.”
“I do. Now you need to understand that I want to share problems. And he’s a problem.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Share problems?”
Why did that bother her so much? She professed to care about him. She’d chased him ’til she got him. Now she could deal with the reality of it.
Feeling magnanimous, he explained, “That’s the way relationships work.”
“Oh, really?” She rose to her knees. “So you’ll discuss with me how what’s his name—” Snapping her fingers, she said, “You know.”
“Who?”
“The guy you’re fighting next.”
“Packer?” What the fuck?
“Right. Packer. Are we going to work out together how to keep him from fighting dirty?”
Denver scratched the top of his head, unsure where she was going with this. “I don’t know what—”
She almost pounced on him. “The guys told me he’s a dirty fighter. That he keeps his open hand out so he can poke his opponents in the eyes.”
Snorting, Denver explained patiently, “It’s happened a few times. Doesn’t mean he—”
“Yes, it does!” She leaned into him, all ready to make a point of some sort. “Miles said Packer can’t win against you unless he cheats. He said the last three guys who fought him ended up hurt. Brand told me that the ref gives a warning, then maybe takes away a measly point, but—”
Denver laughed, he couldn’t help it. She looked damned cute in her umbrage.
Apparently humor was the wrong way to go. His laugh set her off, but he tumbled her before anger could drive her from the bed. Wrestling with her was fun, especially since she didn’t actually try to hurt him.
He watched her boobs as she struggled against him, kneed her legs open to settle over her, then smiled.
“Get off,” she insisted.
Keeping her pinned down, drawn to the mulish set of her mouth, he kissed her.
She shoved against him. “No!”
“Yes.” He kissed her again, then kept on kissing her until she went soft beneath him. “You always taste so damn good,” he murmured as he worked his way along her jaw, her throat, her shoulder. “You have the sweetest, softest skin.” He released her wrists so he could cup her breasts. “All over.”
She slid her fingers across his shoulders. “You’re like hard, warm steel.”
“My shoulders?” he teased.
“Mmm,” she teased right back. “And other places.”
It amazed him how quickly Cherry could lose her pique and get interested, sexually, again. Amazed and pleased him. A lot.
Gathering her close, Denver sat up with her on his lap. “Problems.”
Groaning, she went limp in his arms in a dramatic fall.
He laughed, cuddling her closer to give her a smacking kiss on her mouth. “First, you told me no and I ignored it.”