Extreme Love

chapter Eleven


“Three!”

Dante punched the focus pads on Mike’s hands with a left-right-hook combination.

“Two.”

The snapping sound of glove hitting mitt with a left-right boomed inside the ring. Dante fell back, lowered his hands to mid-chest, and waited for the next command.

“Damn it, Dante, keep your hands up.”

Shit. He brought his gloves back up to his cheeks.

“One.”

Jab.

“One.”

Jab. Dante ducked, weaving back and forth.

“Hands up! Two.”

Left, right.

When Dante fell into his stance, a focus pad smacked him on the side of the head. Stunned, he dropped back and stared at Mike.

“I told you to keep your hands up. What’s with you this week? Your focus has sucked.”

Dante sighed. “Not getting much sleep.”

No sleep was more like it.

Caitlyn made a formidable opponent and made it difficult for him to make good on his word that he wasn’t going anywhere.

A week had gone by since the Amanda fiasco, and Caitlyn had avoided his every attempt to make contact. After two days of unreturned phone calls, he’d resorted to camping outside the fitness room at the Y waiting for her class to be over. By the time he’d woven through the class, which had tripled in size since the first day, she’d disappeared. He’d toyed with the idea of actually attending a session but knew how important the program was to her and wouldn’t stress her out just because he needed to see her.

Unfortunately, the week had taken a toll on his training. He could already hear the big “I told you so” coming from Mike.

“Do you need to take the day off?”

And go back to an empty apartment, where the silence only intensified his thoughts? “No, I need this.”

“Fine. Forget the focus pads. Let’s move to the bag.”

Dante sighed in relief. The intense pain that accompanied bag work was welcome. Anything to numb his racing mind.

“Burn out!”

In quick short punches, Dante hit the bag, over and over again. In less than a minute, fire seared his arms up into his shoulders.

“Two to go. Faster!”

He increased his speed, pounding in swift repetition. The burning deep in his muscles intensified until he yelled. Pummeling faster, he refused to let the stinging daunt him. Sweat coated his arms and dripped off his elbows. Still he continued.

A loud buzz rang. “Time.”

Dante bounced back, hopping from foot to foot as he shook out his arms.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” Mike glared at him.

Dante froze. Damn Mike. Couldn’t the man take his lame not-enough-sleep excuse and let it be? He’d depended on Mike to distract him with an abusive session. And his coach had delivered. With one question, all Dante’s troubles roared back to life.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He shadowboxed around the floor.

Mike came around the bag, scowling. “Whatever happened between you two, push it aside. This has been a wasted week of training. Your timing is off. The strength behind your punches is weak, you’re only half here. That’s not acceptable.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I warned you not to get involved while you were training.”

And there it was—the “I told you so.” He really didn’t need a nose rubbing right now. “You don’t have to worry about that now.”

“So she dumped you.” Mike grinned. “Good. Maybe now you’ll get your head out of your ass.”

The tinkle of the bell interrupted Dante’s retort. Brad strode in, his gym bag thrown over his shoulder.

Mike held up his hand. “Nope. No work out for you tonight.”

Brad paused. “Huh?”

“Take Dante and let him do whatever the hell he’s got to do to get this girl out of his system.” He pointed at Dante. “As for you, you better come in here tomorrow ready to give me your all. Understand?”

“Yes, coach.”

“I know I’m being a hard ass. But you hired me to do a job. When I see something that’s interfering with that job, I’m going to address the issue. Do you want to win this title?”

“Yes.”

“Then put your personal life aside and focus. The girl will be there after the match. Deal with her then. Now is not the time.”

Mike slapped him on the shoulder and walked away. Dante sighed. Deep down, he knew his coach was right. The fight was less than a month away. Intensive training was essential right now. Complete concentration was crucial. He should put his personal life on the backburner until after the fight, but the idea soured his stomach.

Memories of Amanda’s ugliness and the way that Caitlyn’s body shuddered after the insult struck home had haunted him all week. A sane man would probably cut his losses and leave.

But he’d never claimed to be a sane man and he never backed away from a fight. The woman who’d held his hand while he spoke about Frank, who opened up about her past to let him see the struggles she’d faced, who’d been awkward and shy but tried so hard to let go for him—she was worth another round.

Brad walked over. “Let’s go get a drink.”

“Or five.”

“Get showered, and we’ll go drink ourselves stupid.”

…

Swaying on his stool, Dante glanced over at Brad. “’Nother one?”

His friend’s head swung toward him with a drunken grin. “Yep.”

Dante waved to catch the bartender’s attention. When he got it, he raised two fingers. The bartender shook his head but pulled out two shot glasses, filled them with vodka, and slid them over. Dante lifted his into the air. Brad followed. “To women. May we survive their existence.”

Dante tossed his shot back. The liquor burned his throat as he smacked his lips. He slammed the glass on the polished wood. Two hours ago, they’d walked into the tiny club and bellied up to the bar. They’d been there ever since. Mike was a f*cking genius. The alcohol had dulled his senses enough for him to stare numbly into space. And now he was ready to talk.

“We were havin’ a f*ckin’ blast, we’d connected, man,” Dante slurred. “And it went to shit ’cause of a stupid bitch.”

“Sucks, man.”

“Bad. Do you know what’s like to have a woman kiss you back ’cause she wants you, and not the idea of you? It’s f*ckin’ hot, bro. Irre-f*ckin’-sistible.”

Brad studied him. “You fallin’ for her?”

Memories from the other night hit him in the chest. Her smiles as they’d danced, her laughter, the rightness of having her by his side, how at ease he felt with her. Until it all fell apart. “Possibly. Been a long time since a woman had me this riled up.”

“But she’s pushin’ you away.”

Yeah, she was. But he knew why. Dante toyed with the empty shot glass. “You know how we study our opponents before a fight, look for their weaknesses?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve seen Caitlyn’s. Seen how deeply they get to her. She’s not pushing me away as much as she is scared out of her mind to be with me. Caitlyn wants me, and I refuse to be a p-ssy and walk away when she’s fighting herself. She doesn’t need that kind of man. She needs me. A man not easily deterred. A man who, when she lets her guard down, smiles at him, opens up to him, kisses him—” he thumped the area above his heart with his fist— “she gets him right there. I’ve never had a woman get me there.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Good question.” He slid off the stool.

Brad held up his hand. “Hold up, man. They’re not home.”

“Where are they?”

“Amy took Cait to dinner. Where they ended up after, I don’t have a clue.”

Dante sat back down and waved at Brad. “Find them.”

Now that Brad had planted the seed, Dante wanted to get the ball rolling. He wanted to see Caitlyn. Hold her, kiss her, wipe away the memories of that horrible night and create new, more pleasant ones. And she’d let him. He just had to corner her first.

“Okay, hold on,” Brad said, pulling his cell out then hitting a number. “It’s ringin’.”

Brad shifted the phone to his mouth and sat up straighter. “Hey, baby. Where are you?” Momentary silence. “Where are you going afterward?” A pause. Dante could hear Amy’s muffled voice but couldn’t make out her words.

“Dante wants to see Cait.” Brad placed his hand on the receiver. “She had to get away from the table.” He removed his palm. “Hey, yeah, I’m here… Paul’s? How the hell do I get there? Okay, we’ll see you in a bit… Love you, too. Oh, Amy. Don’t let Cait know we’re comin’.”

He chuckled as he hung up the phone.

“What’s so funny?” Dante asked.

“She asked if I thought she was stupid.”

At that, Dante smiled. Amy was becoming his best ally. Dante jumped to his feet and staggered before he could straighten. “Let’s grab a cab.”

“Amy’s coming to get us. It’ll be a few before she gets here. I gotta use the head. Sit down and we’ll leave when I get back.”

He’d been gone but a minute when a voice sounded behind Dante. “Where’s Miss Piggy?”

Dante whirled. His vision swirled before focusing on a green-haired monster. “F*ck off, Sentori.”

“Word’s spread about the Amanda encounter the other night. Pity date? Ouch.”

Dante stiffened. “Don’t go there.”

“The truth is hard to swallow, eh, Inferno? I wonder how she’d feel knowing she’s the topic of conversation in the locker rooms these days, and not because she’s the hot piece of ass of the week.”

Dante leaned his face close to Sentori’s face and poked him hard in the chest. “Listen, prick, it’s one thing to play your sick little games fighter to fighter, but to involve outside people is crossing a line. Leave Caitlyn out of whatever mind games you want to play. She deserves better than that.”

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Calm the bubbling lava, Inferno. I don’t need to say a word. I’m pretty sure she already knows. In fact, I’ll bet she wants nothing more to do with you.” Sentori studied him, a pleased smile coming to his lips. “My, my. She doesn’t, does she? I never thought I’d see the day. You’ve finally found the one woman you can’t have.”

…

As soon as Cait stepped into Paul’s apartment, she paused and stared at the man sitting on the couch. To keep from smiling, she bit the inside of her lip. She looked at Paul. “Been busy much?”

“Shut up.”

Laughing, she walked into the living room. “Jack.”

Jack stood, grinning, and opened his arms. She hugged him tightly. They’d only met that one time at the bar, but she’d felt a connection with the man. When they were dancing, he’d asked her about Paul. It pleased her beyond words they’d hooked up.

She pulled free and glanced between the two. “So what’s going on here?”

“Nothing to worry yourself over,” Paul said. “I want to know how you are.”

She sighed. Didn’t anyone understand she just wanted to forget? Dinner with Amy had been nice, except for her constant pressure to give Dante a chance. Cait, you’re wonderful together. Dante is so into you. I’ve never seen you so flustered by a man.

Blah blah blah.

Amy meant well—she always meant well—but her friend didn’t understand Cait was only a challenge for Dante. That hadn’t bothered her before, but post-Amanda she refused to be some fighter’s entertainment while he was in town, especially if it meant dealing with more women like his ex.

“I’m doing better.”

An outright lie. As much as she tried to convince herself to stay away from Dante, she had to fight her yearnings. Every time he called, she wanted to answer the phone. When she’d spotted him coming toward her at the Y, she’d forced herself to make a hasty exit. Her continual struggle to ignore him left her emotionally drained. Why, after all that’d happened, did she still want to hear his voice, want to see him? Wasn’t humiliation supposed to cure that?

“What happened?” Jack asked.

By the time Cait filled him in, tight lines pinched his features. “What’s wrong with people?”

She shrugged. “It was the wake-up call I needed.”

“Where’s Amy?” Paul asked. “I thought she was just lagging behind.”

“She dropped me off. She had an errand to run, said she’d be back shortly.”

…

Dante stumbled up the stairs to Paul’s apartment. Since when did stairs move? He righted himself and took another cautious step. He’d overdone it on the booze. He’d be lucky not to spend all day tomorrow with his head in the toilet. Yeah, Mike would be real pleased with his performance tomorrow. He cringed to think of his coach’s response to his hungover state. It was his own damned fault, though. Mike had said to do what he needed to get Caitlyn out of his head—too bad it hadn’t worked.

“Good God, Brad, how much did you let him drink?” Amy asked.

“Coach told me to take him out. I did as instructed.”

“I think I regret my decision in driving you here.”

Dante whirled, teetered violently, then straightened. “No, I have to see Caitlyn.”

Amy arched a brow at him. “At least this should be entertaining.”

They made it to the door. Dante swayed and placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. He shook his head to clear the fog. Maybe this hadn’t been such a smart idea. Who knew what kind of crap would spew from his mouth in his current condition?

Amy knocked. Too late.

Seconds later, Paul answered. Dante’s gaze clashed with the other man’s. Paul’s eyes went wide before he snapped his attention to Amy. “Have you gone stupid?”

Well, good to see you, too.

Amy shrugged. “Dante wanted to see Cait.”

“Muscle Boy can barely stand straight,” he whispered harshly.

“Hey, I’m standing right here,” Dante said, not caring for the man’s disapproving tone.

Paul gave him a dismissive glance. “Girl, I’m glad I’m not in your shoes. Cait’s going to be livid.”

“Price you pay to help a friend.”

“Can we stop the chit-chat?” Dante demanded. “I want to see Caitlyn.”

Paul stepped back. “Sure thing, Terminator, come on in.”

Dante crossed the threshold then froze. Caitlyn sat on the couch with the jackass who had ogled her at the bar. Oh, hell no. No man—especially not this one—was going to come between him and Caitlyn. He stormed forward. She turned from the conversation she was having with the guy and glanced at him. Then did a double-take. She jumped to her feet.

“Dante.”

He soaked up the image of her before him, twisting her fingers together, her eyes downcast. He wasted no time. He grabbed her around the waist and crushed his mouth to hers.

Excitement shot through him when she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Kissed him with the same fierceness he felt. He plunged his tongue into her mouth. A small moan sounded from her throat. He f*cking loved that sound. Dante lowered his hands and grasped her bottom, bringing her closer to the part of him coming to full attention.

In the background, someone cleared his throat. Loudly.

When Caitlyn pushed, Dante released her.

Dante glared at the man sitting on the couch. By the way she’d responded to him, the jerk had better understand she was off limits.

Paul stood behind Jack and slapped him on the back of his head. “Why don’t you kiss me like that?”

Huh?

The man looked over his shoulder. “So you like the whole Neanderthal thing?”

Dante frowned. “I wasn’t being a Neanderthal.”

The man turned mocking eyes toward him. “Really? I was waiting for the club to come out, so you could knock her over the head and drag her away by the hair.”

Dante did something he’d never done before: he blushed. Hot and furious. Maybe he had come in here like a caveman. But once he’d seen Caitlyn, he wanted—no, needed to kiss her. Let her know he was making good on his word. He wasn’t going anywhere. And he would get what he wanted.

Her.

Paul strolled around the couch, arms crossed. “Seriously, you never kiss me like that.”

Jack sighed and got up. He shrugged. Taking a deep breath, he strode over to Paul, grabbed him by the waist, and planted one on him.

Dante gaped at the two men locked in an intimate embrace.

Jack pulled back. “Better?”

Paul’s flushed face said it all. “Cait, I can see why you like it. Whew!”

A blush the color of a fire hydrant stained her cheeks. “I don’t like it.”

“Bullshit,” Paul said. “It makes you all hot and bothered, like me.” He shoulder bumped Jack. “That was hot.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Cait turned and glared at Amy, who stood next to Brad just inside the living room. “That includes you, too.”

“Yours, of course,” Amy said and stepped forward. “Please believe that.”

Seeing a spat about to occur, Dante interfered. “Caitlyn, can we talk?”

She studied him for a moment before she sighed. “Fine.”

He grabbed her hand and led her down the hallway toward one of the closed doors. She tugged her arm. “No way. We’re going on the balcony.”

Dante frowned, but didn’t argue.

He opened the cream-curtained French doors and stepped onto the alcove. Paul had made use of the small area. Tall potted bushes lined the walls. A round iron table with two chairs sat in the center.

He pulled out one of the chairs. “Sit.”

“I’ll stand, thank you,” she said, crossing her arms.

Dante sighed and sat down. He propped his elbows on his knees, lowered his face to his hands, and rubbed his cheeks. He had her full attention. Now what was he going to say?

He looked up and was startled to realize Caitlyn was watching him. Normally, she refused eye contact. This time, however, she was staring at him.

The action worried him. A lot.

This wasn’t the shy, vulnerable Caitlyn. No, this was the confident, in control, fitness instructor Caitlyn. And she was going to be a harder opponent to topple.

“You wanted to talk?”

Her gaze never wavered. F*ck. He was doomed. “About the other night—”

“Nothing really to discuss there.”

“But there is—”

“No, Dante, there isn’t. I’ve made my choice. I’m happy with my choice. Got it?”

Oh, yes, doomed. There seemed to be only one way they could communicate.

He rose and started toward her.

…

Cait struggled to stand her ground and not flee into the apartment like instinct screamed for her to do. She tipped her chin up, hoping the gesture would help her feel in control. It didn’t.

Determination sounded in his every step as he closed the distance between them. He was going to kiss her. Again. She knew why he used this advantage. When he kissed her, she had the hardest time refusing him. Damn him for playing the weakness against her.

“What are you going to do? Kiss me again?” she blurted.

He stopped. Shock and confusion twisted his features. She stifled a quivering breath of relief. She’d stopped Dante Jones in his tracks. What would happen if she went further? Became the aggressor? Would he believe the chase was over, believe he’d won, and lose interest?

Cait stepped toward him, putting a seductive swing into her hips. “I like your kisses, Dante. They make me hot. Make me think of other ways you can use your mouth to make me even hotter.”

What was she doing? This would never work. Dante would see straight through her performance, see the woman who’d never played the part of siren, and call her bluff. What would she do then?

Dante’s eyes bulged. Her sense of control increased. He was flustered. Good. He needed a taste of it. She’d been flustered from the moment they’d met.

The gray shirt stretched across his chest. Her fingers itched to skim over the pebbled nipples straining beneath the material. Did she dare?

She raised her hand. Dante froze. The cotton was soft as she ran her palms up his chest and over his shoulders.

Dante shuddered and stumbled backward. “Caitlyn, what are you doing?” The roughness of his voice cocooned her. Drew her in.

“Touching you.”

Her fingers trembled as they slid down his bicep and back up. Fire ran through her body and she yearned for more. Her nipples hardened, begging for him to touch them.

Dante groaned. “F*cking. Don’t. Stop.”

He gripped her hips in his large hands and brought her close, kneading her bottom. Warmth seared Cait, and she suppressed a moan. The feel of him, his scent, wracked havoc on her senses. She wound her arms around his neck, brushing against the hardness of his body.

“F*ck me, Dante.” The words felt foreign coming out of her mouth. She hated that the first time she’d said them to a man was a desperate attempt to push him away for good.

He went so still she feared to move.

“No.”

The shock of him saying that one word startled her. “Why not?”

”You don’t get it, do you?”

”I-I don’t.”

“Just sex isn’t what I’m after, Caitlyn. Been there, done that for years. I can go right now and find a line of women who’d like to f*ck.” He stepped away from her. “Yes, I want your moans and kisses, but I also want more moments like we had in the truck, hand holding, laughing. I want more than f*cking…with you.”

Stunned, Cait stared at him. He wanted more?

“Are we clear on where we stand now?”

She gave a jerky nod.

“Good. You process that.” He walked around her and into the house. The front door closed seconds later.

I want more. With you.

How quickly she’d accepted Sentori’s warning, wanting to believe that Dante’s interest in her was simply a chase, nothing more. She’d needed him to be that way. She hadn’t wanted to examine why Dante’s presence made her happy, why she’d missed him, why her heart jumped every time her phone rang or she got a glimpse at him at the gym.

He wasn’t going to stick around, so she’d had to stay detached.

But he wanted more.

With a woman who wasn’t sure she could accept his career.