Extreme Love

chapter Four


“That’s it! I’m no longer your beard. That man was about to tear me apart.”

“You’re overreacting.” Cait glanced at Paul, who sat on her bed, his foot dancing a frantic rhythm.

“Did you see the way he glared at me? It wasn’t with daggers, Cait, it was fists. That fine piece of man-meat has staked a claim on you and he’s going to pummel anyone who stands in his way, including my gay ass. My face can’t handle that. After tonight, you’re on your own.”

She unfastened the heels Paul had made her buy and groaned as the torture devices popped off her feet.

What Paul said was true. Before they’d left, she’d witnessed Dante buck up with an impressive amount of testosterone. The way his body had tensed and his eyes turned fiery had reminded her of a Spartan warrior and scared her to death. Not a psychokiller scary, but a stole-her-breath-until-she-felt-like-she-would-keel-over scary.

Not a promising reaction for a woman trying to convince herself she didn’t want him.

To make matters worse, she saw the way Dante had watched her when she’d come in, with narrowed eyes and disapproval bracketing his tight lips. Instinct told her his displeasure had nothing to do with her and everything to do with Paul.

Apparently, Dante didn’t believe in hiding his emotions. Was she wrong about him not being interested in her? If so, why hadn’t the man picked up the phone and called? His actions were so confusing, making her feel even greener than she had before she’d met him.

The big question was, did she even want him interested in her?

She really wasn’t certain. Yeah, she was attracted to him, but he was a whole new world of scary that she’d never dealt with before and had no clue how to handle.

Cait sighed. Enough thinking about the baffling man sitting in her living room.

She yanked open her closet door. “We came in here to do a job. Can we get this over with before I change my mind?”

“Gladly.” Paul rose from the bed and crossed the room. Tsking, he studied the hanging clothes with horror. “Cait, really, I thought you had better fashion sense than this.”

He plucked a green shirt off its hanger and dangled it from the tip of his finger. “A turtleneck?”

“Shut up, I like turtlenecks.” She jerked the shirt from his grasp.

Paul shrugged before turning to grab an armful of clothes and throwing them on the floor.

“Hey! I might want to keep some of those.”

“Like what?” He picked out a heavy sweater and held it against her body. The material could now be used as a towel to wrap around her.

“Fine. Point taken.”

She thought of the shopping bags still sitting in Paul’s SUV. So different from what she was used to. “I take it back. I need to keep a couple of items.” At Paul’s perturbed look, she added, “I’ve made leaps and bounds tonight. All I’m asking is to keep a couple of pieces.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Four things.”

She sifted through the material and grabbed a pair of red and white striped pajama bottoms, her favorite Rodney Atkins T-shirt, worn jeans, and a pair of khaki shorts. Then she spotted her pink hoodie peeking out from beneath a blue blouse. She reached for it.

“Uh-uh. I said four.”

She snatched the hoodie and held it close to her. “I can’t even wear it. It’s July, but I love this thing.”

“No more.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’m going to get some bags to toss this junk in.”

He left the room. Cait knelt beside the pile of clothes and removed the hangers. It would be odd opening her closet tomorrow and not seeing her old favorites hanging there. In their place would be fitted shirts, some so sexy she had a hard time imagining where she’d actually wear them, jeans that hugged her bottom, and shorts a little too short. A new wardrobe for her new body. Step one to forgetting old Cait completed.

Footsteps sounded from the hall then her door clicked shut.

Cait removed another hanger. “That was quick,” she said without looking up.

“Not two words a man likes to hear.”

She gasped and jumped to her feet. Self-consciously, she tugged at the skirt, which drew Dante’s eyes to the material.

“I like the skirt. I like seeing your legs even more.”

She gaped at him. Was he serious?

He glanced at the pile of clothes. “Spring cleaning?”

“More like summer,” she croaked out.

Please don’t see the sizes. Please don’t see the sizes.

He dismissed the clothes as his gaze landed on the chocolate-brown comforter with pink accents that covered her queen-sized mattress. His attention lingered there for a moment before he lifted his gaze to the shelves that held an assortment of her favorite books and movies. “What do you like to do, Caitlyn?”

How could a man come across so damned relaxed? Especially when she was wound so tight she felt ready to shatter any second.

“Do?” She actually squeaked her question.

“You know. Read? Watch movies? Shop?”

A conversation? The man walks into her room, disrupts her perfect little world, and he decides to have a conversation? “All of the above.”

Dante’s smile sent her heart into a frantic staccato. He moved closer, and she retreated until her butt touched the wall. Her breath came in short, erratic spurts. His gaze started at her legs and raked upward over her body. “I like all of the above, too.”

Ah! She liked that response. A little too much. Her heart pumped even faster. She had to escape.

Now.

As if reading her thoughts, Dante blocked her by bracing his arms against the wall on either side of her body.

She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but stare into gorgeous blue eyes belonging to a gorgeous man. He leaned closer, his chest brushing against hers. Lord, she felt the strength of his body.

“So pretty.” He ran his fingers across her cheek.

The desire in his eyes confirmed his statement. Could this be real? Could this man truly want her? Everything he did screamed yes.

“W-why did you come in here?”

His fingers paused on her skin. “Isn’t it obvious? To be near you. Would you rather I leave?”

Yes. No. Hell, she didn’t know.

“Maybe,” she finally decided on.

“Maybe?” One masculine brow lifted. “A very indecisive answer. Maybe we should kiss and see if it helps you make a firm decision.”

She swallowed, a response completely lost to her. Flustered by her inability to come up with her own flirtatious, witty comeback, she felt greener than ever. “I think that would be a bad idea.”

“Give me one good reason why.”

She opened her mouth, but no reason emerged. Instead, she murmured, “Me and you…we don’t fit.”

“Oh, I think we’d fit very nicely together.”

Her mouth popped opened, shocked and alarmingly delighted by his words. “T-that’s not what I meant.” But now that he’d taken their conversation in that direction, it was all she could think of. She shook herself. “I meant we’re too different. We don’t have any chemistry.”

Amusement filled his eyes. “No chemistry, huh? I’ll have to disagree.” He placed his lips against her ear and whispered, “Do you remember when our eyes met in the mirror this morning? That punch of lust that socked us both? That’s chemistry, Caitlyn.”

He’d felt it too?

He lifted his head, and his gaze lowered to her lips. “Just one kiss. Nothing more.” He eyes met hers. “Consider it an experiment.”

He lowered his head, and she stiffened.

“One,” he said.

Yes, just one kiss.

“Two.”

Counting? Why was he counting?

His breath warmed her lips. “Last chance.”

He paused, and she realized he was giving her time to say no. Why didn’t she? She could stop this so easily.

“Three.”

Thank God, she didn’t have to make a choice.

The first touch of his lips sent electrical currents pulsing through her body and she jerked. He didn’t deepen the kiss as she suspected he would. Instead, he steadily brushed his mouth against hers. Sweet caresses that caused thrills of excitement to scurry down her spine. She moaned and slid her palms over his chest. Fisting his shirt in her hands, she pulled him closer. A low growl rattled in his throat as his lips continued their teasing pursuit.

“You really need to clean out from under your kitchen sink. It took me forever— Oh, shit.”

Dante shuddered and broke the kiss. Dazed, she turned her head to find Paul standing at the doorway, trash bags in his hand.

She looked back at Dante, very aware his arms still trapped her between the wall and his body. He didn’t move. “I’d say this experiment has just proven that we do indeed have chemistry.” A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “Tons of it.”

Damn it all to hell. She’d just ruined every attempt at the distance she’d tried to keep.

She released the wadded material in her hands and pushed at Dante’s chest. “Please leave.”

His arms dropped away. “Now that was a serious request. So I will. For now.”

Dante strode to the door. Paul plastered himself against the wall, arms up in surrender as Dante passed. A trembling hand pressed to her lips, Cait stood frozen. She stared wide-eyed at her friend, whose mouth hung open.

He snapped it shut. “Damn girl, I feel like I’ve been kissed breathless. Was that as hot as it looked?”

All she could do was nod.

“You’ve surprised me this morning,” Amy said.

Cait paused, a forkful of egg whites on its way to her mouth. “Why?”

“I thought last night was a fluke. I expected to walk in here and see you back in your rags.”

Cait shoved the eggs in her mouth. Amy had no idea how close she was to the truth. If Paul hadn’t taken every stuffed garbage bag with him, she would have ripped open the plastic and dug out a more comfortable outfit to wear. Instead, she’d been forced to wear her new clothes. Oddly enough, they weren’t as horrible as she’d thought they’d be. Definitely clingier than she was used to, but she had to admit the light-green shirt and fitted jeans showed off her curves and made her walk a little taller.

“Paul took all my old clothes.”

Sputtering her coffee, Amy squealed, “He did what?”

“Took. Them. All.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

Cait gave a begrudging smile. “Because you’re not as mean as he is.”

“I wondered what you guys were doing in there all night. Honestly, though, it was past time for you to toss those things out.”

“I know, and I’m glad I finally did.”

“Did she tell you about the kiss?”

Paul’s voice sounded from behind her. Cait closed her eyes and groaned. Here we go.

“Kiss?” Amy’s eyes grew owlish. “With whom?”

Cait glared at Paul, who shrugged. “How was I supposed to know you didn’t tell her?” His gaze lowered to her shirt. “Oh! Nice!”

“It should be. You picked it out.” She glanced back at Amy. “Dante.”

Amy’s fork hit the plate with a clatter. “Dante? I wondered where he’d gotten off to last night and why he looked so pleased with himself when he came back.”

Cait’s cheeks heated. She guessed he had a reason to be satisfied. He’d gotten the answer he’d wanted: they had chemistry.

“I didn’t tell you because…” She flicked her hand toward Paul. “He knew. He’s enough to deal with, but both of you can be overwhelming. I should’ve known Big Mouth here would never stay quiet.”

Paul grinned then grabbed Amy by the arm. “Girl, let me tell you about this kiss. It was hawt. He had Cait pressed against the wall, I mean, total dirty movie pressed.” He pulled out a seat and sat at the table. “She was so into it too.”

When Amy’s brows shot to her hairline, Cait said, “Paul, enough.”

Amy leaned forward. “How into it were you?”

“She wasn’t asking him to leave, if you get my drift.”

Cait sighed. “I liked it when I shouldn’t have.”

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean? The man is to die for, why shouldn’t you like kissing him?”

“You know as well as I do I don’t have experience with men like him.”

Amy grimaced. “Yeah, you’re a little green in the men department, but it’s nothing that can’t be learned.”

Yeah, right. The last date she’d been on had been six months ago with an accountant at a law firm. The most experience she’d needed was keeping up a steady stream of chatter, easy enough since he did all the talking.

Dante would be much more difficult to entertain. And he wouldn’t sit there and hog the conversation. No, he’d pry and dig, then smile and make her heart melt. Too dangerous.

“Do you like him?” Amy asked.

“I hardly know him.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Good God, you do need help. You don’t have to know a guy to like him. The like starts the know. How about this? Would you like to get to know him?”

“He flusters me, Amy. He’s so overwhelming. So big and—there.”

“And how is that bad?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know the answer to that one myself,” Paul piped in.

When Cait remained silent, Amy said, “Brad says Dante is into you.”

Cait blinked. “What?”

“Yep. Totally entranced. My words, not his.”

Hadn’t she gotten a taste last night of exactly how into her Dante was? And how that one kiss had kept her up all night fantasizing about doing it again?

Paul pointed a fork at Cait. “See. I told you Brawny Man was interested.”

“He didn’t call.” Yet the man had turned out to be interested in her. But how was she supposed to know when he’d fallen through on the one thing he’d promised?

“That was my fault,” Amy said.

“What?”

“I thought his seeing you in person would be better. Even as your best friend, I find a conversation on the phone with you is like pulling teeth.”

“I don’t like to talk on a phone.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I gave him the advice. He wanted to call you.”

He hadn’t fallen through. He’d wanted to call her. What excuses was she supposed to hold onto now?

Fighting, fighting, fighting. His attraction was evident now, but his career still hadn’t changed.

“You just need to let him in,” Amy continued.

“Not happening. I feel like a goob when he’s around.”

“You feel like that because you want him.” Amy studied her. “More so than any other man you’ve ever met.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Whatever you say.” Amy shrugged. Then her expression softened. “It’s okay to be scared. Just don’t let the fear ruin your chance.”

“I’m not scared. I’m overwhelmed. There’s a difference.”

“True, but I can help lessen that feeling.” Amy speared a piece of pancake and winked.

Oh, no. Cait knew that wink.

“Don’t worry. I have a plan. I’ll get you comfortable around the hotter versions of the opposite sex if it’s the last thing I do.” Her friend shoved the pancake into her mouth.

Amy and plans equaled chaos.

Joy.

…

Dante strolled on his way to the training facility. Caitlyn hadn’t been far from his thoughts since their kiss three days ago. Amy had advised him to move slowly, but slow didn’t work for him. Nothing about him was slow. It was time to do things his way.

Besides, Amy was wrong. Slow wasn’t the way to deal with Caitlyn. She responded to his forward advances. Dante smiled. She responded nicely against his lips.

“Jones!”

Surprised to hear his name, he turned. An immense man sat outside the coffee house he’d just passed, foot resting on his knee, conceit in his relaxed expression. Shocking purple hair jutted in every direction from his head. Blue, pink, or green, Dante would have recognized the man anywhere.

Sentori.

With one leap, the man vaulted over the twisted wrought iron fence. The distance between them vanished.

Sentori didn’t stop moving until they were eye to eye. “You don’t stand a chance in hell against me.”

Dante forced himself to relax. “We’ll see in two months.”

“Pack your shit and leave now. You’re always going to be second best, always looking up at me with the belt around my waist.”

Dante laughed. “You’re going to be the one looking up, bitch. Right after you tap out.”

Sentori lifted a brow. “ ‘Tap’? You think you can beat me on the ground and force me to tap? Think again, little boy, you’ll need a better game plan than that.”

“You’re too much of a chicken shit to stand up to me.”

Sentori shoved Dante. “Who the f*ck are you calling chicken?”

The sound of chairs pushing back at the coffee house filled the air. A group of men started toward them.

Dante rose to his full height and pressed his nose against the other fighter. “We’re not in the cage, a*shole. Don’t. Touch. Me.”

“Or what?” Sentori jabbed Dante in the shoulder with his pointer finger.

Dante worked his neck back and forth to suppress his rising anger. He’d known Sentori would eventually make an appearance, but he hadn’t realized how easily the guy would be able to piss him off. Instead of hitting the man’s smug face, he wheeled around and started back up the sidewalk, only to have “p-ssy!” called after him.

Dante’s shoulders tensed but he kept walking, refusing to entertain the man’s taunts. If Sentori wanted to make a spectacle of himself, fine by him. Dante, however, wouldn’t be a part of it.

Once he entered the training facility, he strapped on his gloves then went to work, furiously hammering the hanging red leather bag with punches, kicks, and elbows.

Crack, crack, crack, his fists hit like a machine gun. A roundhouse kick toward the head of the bag boomed throughout the room.

“Who pissed you off?”

Dante turned to see Mike leaning against the wall.

“One guess.”

The older man walked toward him. “Don’t let him get into your head. Sentori is going to do everything he can to ruffle your feathers. Anything to get you off your game.”

“He’s a prick.” Dante used his forearm to wipe the sweat on his forehead.

“I won’t argue. But whatever confrontation you had with him, just remember he can and will do worse. He likes to play mind games.”

“I don’t have anything he can play with.”

“You better hope so. Once he finds your weakness, he’ll exploit it.”

Dante nodded and turned back to the bag. Nothing Sentori could do would ruin his concentration.

He had one goal and one goal only.

Win the championship.