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  “Caitlyn, Caitlyn,” he repeated.

  Hearing him chant her name pushed her over the edge and she shattered around him. “Dante!”

  One more thrust and Dante stiffened against her. He lifted up, his eyes squeezed, teeth bared. He gasped sharply as his body jerked with tremors. Then he collapsed against her.

  She gazed over Dante’s shoulder and stared at the ceiling, enjoying each little aftershock quaking her body. A smile tugged at her lips. She’d done it. Made love to him, in the light, no less, the most amazing experience of her life. His gentleness, his understanding, did the one thing she’d never been able to accomplish on her own—obliterate the last barrier of her insecurity.

  Cait held him close and drew lazy circles over his shoulder blade. Who knew letting go of the past would be so powerful, so freeing?

  The skin twitched under her fingers and Dante shivered. She chuckled. “Sensitive, are we?”

  He rose up on his elbow, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He moved his hips. She gasped. “Sensitive, are we?”

  “Touché.”

  Dante’s expression softened. He bent and placed a swift kiss on her lips. He opened his mouth then shut it.

  “What?”

  A small smile crept along his lips. “Later. Now’s not the time.”

  What was that supposed to mean?

  He stood and lifted her into his arms with ease. Gently, he laid her on the bed. He walked around the bed oblivious to his nudity. He was magnificent.

  Cait waited for him to look at her. When he did, she deliberately stretched, slow and long. Lust flared to his eyes. Oh yes, this man liked what he saw. That knowledge gave her the confidence to rise from the bed and saunter to him. His gaze never wavered. She smiled when she reached him.

  He wanted her. Had taken her. Exactly as she was.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Last night had been a mistake.

  Dante propped up on his elbow and watched Caitlyn sleep with her back nestled against his chest. She exuded peace, the opposite of the angst churning inside him.

  Why had he made love to her?

  Too many unanswered questions lingered between them—the most important being how she felt about him.

  Cait had to care for him. Her foolish plan to keep his coach from quitting said as much. Unfortunately, what she’d said to him—twice—sat like a rock in his stomach and put a damper on what should have been a great morning.

  It’s just sex.

  Her blatant invitation set off warning alarms in his head. He’d come close to refusing her last night, hesitated when she’d asked him to erase Sentori’s touch. But the desire in her eyes, mixed with her vulnerability, so enticed him he’d crumbled and taken what he’d wanted since they’d first met.

  This morning he regretted his moment of weakness. Regret and sex should never mix.

  His chest tight, he slid back a strand of red hair from her cheek then trailed the back of his fingers along her soft skin. From day one, he’d known she was special. Time had only proven what his gut had known. He loved her.

  He’d believed when he finally fell in love, it would be a wonderful thing, a simple thing. On his end, it was. He longed to hear her voice, to be in her presence. Just the thought of her made him smile.

  Did she love him?

  It’s just sex.

  He should shove her comment aside. Forget it. Her skittishness proved she wasn’t the sex fiend her statement intimated. Still, he couldn’t banish the words festering in his mind.

  Cait stirred beside him. Dante drew his hand back and watched her eyelids flutter open. His heart raced. How would she react to his presence in her bed?

  She tensed, then tentatively glanced over her shoulder. Green eyes met his, and a timid smile lifted the corners of her mouth. The sleepy, shy expression stole his breath.

  “Morning,” she whispered.

  “Morning.” Relief hit him. She hadn’t shut down. She appeared pleased to see him.

  He kissed her forehead and pulled back. At his quick retreat, her brows furrowed. Damn it, he should have kissed her senseless like he wanted to. But her drowsy, disheveled look was a massive turn on and one kiss would lead to more. They needed to talk first.

  Frowning, Caitlyn sat up and pulled the sheet over her breasts. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Well enough.”

  Her frown deepened. Dante sighed. He could almost hear the chink, chink, chink of her barriers falling into place.

  Next time, kiss her, idiot.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “We need to talk.”

  Her fingers tightened around the sheets, but she held his gaze. “Okay.”

  Dante swallowed. He remembered all too well two other times she’d held his gaze with such determination. Both times she’d told him the same thing.

  “Paul told me everything. Why’d you do it?” he asked, wanting to hear the reason from her.

  “I couldn’t let Mike quit because of me. I know how important this fight is to you.”

  Dante raked a hand over his face. Tell me you care for me. But she didn’t. Instead, she watched him with narrow, guarded eyes. It unnerved him.

  He inhaled deeply. “You’re important to me.”

  “I can’t come between you and your dreams.”

  “You’re not. I can have both.”

  Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Apparently not, since Mike quit.”

  Ouch. No comeback to that. He changed tactics. “Do you care for me?” Love me?

  “Of course I care for you.”

  There was a “but” behind those words, he was sure of it.

  Just sex. Just sex. Just sex.

  “Why’d you sleep with me?”

  She jerked back. “What kind of question is that?”

  “I want to know, Caitlyn. Why did you sleep with me?”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I-I’ve wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’m pretty sure you felt the same. Isn’t sleeping together the natural progression to those feelings?”

  “It is, but what happens after we leave this bed?”

  “God, Dante, what do you want me to say? I’m here. I want to see what happens between us. What more do you want?”

  As he opened his mouth, the doorbell rang.

  She flung back the covers. “I’ve got to get that. It could be Paul. I never called him. He’s probably worried sick.”

  She grabbed her robe and was out the bedroom door in two seconds flat. Dante followed more slowly, pulling on his jeans along the way.

  He came out of her bedroom as she opened the door.

  “Good morning, Caitlyn. I trust you slept well,” a masculine voice purred.

  Fury exploded. No one called her Caitlyn but him. He charged forward.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “I found your—”

  Dante flung the door wide and brushed past a gasping Caitlyn. He took momentary notice of the pink cell phone Sentori dangled from his fingers before he grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and shoved him up against the opposite wall. The cell clattered to the floor.

  Sentori smiled and glanced over Dante’s shoulder. “Well, well, Caitlyn. Been a busy night for you. First me, now him.”

  Dante’s grip tightened and he lifted Sentori off the ground.

  “Shut up, Sentori,” she said.

  She stepped beside Dante. The movement drew his eyes to the bruise on her neck—the bruise left by this man. He thrust his opponent higher into the air. “If you ever lay a hand on Caitlyn against her will again, I’ll kill you.”

  “Can’t handle that your woman asked for me to touch her?” Sentori grabbed Dante’s fist with a slimy grin on his face. “I told you I’d get the pussy first, Inferno. I’m disappointed she gave it up to you, too. It makes my victory less sweet.”

  Dante growled and lifted Sentori higher. Caitlyn placed a hand on his arm. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”

  He hesitated, but he
knew she was right. He released him.

  Sentori stumbled but caught his balance, then reached down and plucked the phone off the floor. “I found it on the floor by the couch at my place.”

  Dante stiffened.

  “We didn’t go to your place, and you know it.” She snatched the phone away. “What did you do? Steal it from my purse when I wasn’t looking?”

  Sentori tsked. “You’ve been caught, Caitlyn. Too late trying to cover your tracks now.”

  “Caitlyn, go back in the apartment.” When she hesitated, he added, “Please.”

  She glanced past him toward his rival. “I’d rather stay.”

  The panic in her voice grabbed his attention. What was she afraid of?

  “Scared of what I might tell him, Caitlyn?” Sentori asked.

  So he’d heard her hesitation, too. What had gone on between these two?

  “Never.”

  “Then go inside like a good little girl.”

  Dante spun on him. “Shut the fuck up.”

  The other fighter laughed. “I can do this all day. Your choice, Caitlyn. Have us stay out here in a standstill or go inside so Dante and I can do this like men.”

  Silence followed his statement before she said, “Fine.”

  The slamming of the front door marked her exit.

  Dante stepped forward. “Leave her alone.”

  “Don’t want to hear the truth, Inferno?” Sentori asked, leaning against the wall.

  “Nothing that comes from your mouth is the truth.”

  The other man smirked. “Did she beg for the lights to stay off?”

  Dante froze.

  “Oh, she did.” Sentori tsked. “Not a smart game plan for a chick, huh? If she’s going to take on two men in one night, she should at least change her performance.”

  “How about this? Did she play all vulnerable at first, but when things got going, turn into a wildcat?”

  A buzzing filled Dante’s ears and he stood rooted to the ground.

  “She did with me. I licked every inch of her plump curves. What’s it like knowing you took a body I claimed not an hour earlier?”

  Dante stopped listening. She hadn’t done it. Period.

  “Leave,” he ground out.

  “Fine, fine. I’m gone.” He started to walk away then turned. “But not for long.” He winked and went down the stairs.

  Rage shook his body, anger at Sentori and anger at himself for allowing the asshole into his head. Even for a split second. It was all lies. Nothing more. With a cleansing breath, he entered the living room.

  “Whatever he told you is a lie,” she said the moment he stepped inside.

  He studied at her. Her words were too defensive. Too quick. She stood in front of him, wringing her fingers together.

  Just sex. Just sex. Just sex.

  Another split second of doubt rose. He muttered a curse. He refused to believe Sentori over her. Not now. Not ever. If she said it was a lie, then it was a lie. End of story.

  She wanted to see where things went with them. That was enough…for now.

  “I know. He’s playing mind games.”

  She crossed the room and grabbed his arm. “Just remember that about anything he says.”

  “What happened last night?”

  “Nothing I didn’t somewhat expect.”

  “Tell me.” When she faltered, he cupped her cheek. “Please, I want to know.”

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “From the beginning.”

  She eyed him, then sighed. Taking his hand, she led him to the couch. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “I’m prepared for that.” Anything spoken with the words “Sentori” and “Caitlyn” in the same sentence would bother him. He gathered every ounce of strength he had and prepared not to react.

  She began her tale and Dante realized he didn’t have enough strength after all. He’d known Sentori had touched her, and he’d wanted to kill him for that, but her plea for him to stay had eased the anger. Now the rage was back with a vengeance. With each excruciating detail, his jaw clenched tighter, his teeth ground harder until he thought they’d shatter. It took considerable restraint to sit and listen to how Sentori had held her against her will, bit her, kissed her. Her. Caitlyn. The woman he loved.

  He shot to his feet.

  “Dante.”

  He stiffened. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Dante,” she repeated. The warning in her voice made him stop.

  “I’m not going to do anything, Caitlyn. But I need to hit something. And if it’s not Sentori’s face, I need a bag. I don’t want to punch a hole in your wall.”

  “Okay. Good.” She gave him a timid smile. “Just take it easy on the poor bag.”

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  His gaze lowered to her neck, the purple bruise glaring. If it weren’t for him, she never would have gone on a date with Sentori. But she had. For him. He had to make it up to her.

  “Dinner Wednesday night? Just you and me. I know it’s a few days away, but Mike—whom I have to have a very long talk with—has me training sun up to sun down for the next two days. When I train like that, I’m exhausted.”

  She held up her hand and smiled. “No explanations, Dante. The championship comes first. Just don’t be mad at Mike, okay? He was only looking out for your best interests.”

  “He crossed a line.”

  “Maybe he did, but I heard the pride in his voice when I talked to him this week. He knows you can beat Sentori, you just need to focus. Just don’t lose that focus now that you have it back.”

  Dante caressed the bruise on her neck. “You don’t have to worry. I have an all-new reason to beat Sentori’s ass. I’ll pick you up at seven on Wednesday?”

  “I’d like that. Just save it for the cage, okay?”

  He gave her cheek a quick peck before dressing and leaving her apartment.

  Images of Caitlyn struggling in Sentori’s arms while he buried his head in her neck flooded his mind. Dante squeezed his eyes closed.

  Sentori would regret the day he ever laid his hands on Caitlyn.

  …

  He believed her.

  She’d worried Dante would believe Sentori and had wanted to stay outside to hear exactly what the slime said. Whatever he’d said hadn’t worked. Thank God.

  The morning had taken its toll, but at least she’d never have to suffer Sentori again. Instead, she could focus on Dante and figure out what the hell he expected now that they’d slept together.

  She sighed and flopped on the couch, his question heavy on her mind.

  Why did you sleep with me?

  What had he expected her to say?

  Cait had strong feelings for him. How could she not? But something in the way he’d acted this morning made her believe he was ready for more. She wasn’t ready for more. And she wasn’t ready to talk.

  Since when did men want to talk, anyway? About feelings? About caring?

  Last night had been a huge step forward for her. Why rush into more? Couldn’t they just enjoy each other, see if they were compatible, and if she could accept his occupation?

  A rapid succession of knocks sounded on the door before it banged open and Paul burst in. Cait straightened on the couch.

  “Oh, thank God!” His hand flew to his chest. “Your knight in shining armor never called, so I’ve been frantic.” Then his gaze lowered to her neck, and he smirked. “Well, not so frantic I was willing to interrupt.”

  She covered the bruise with her palm. “That’s not from Dante.”

  Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Creep boy?”

  “Yep.”

  “Have you sicced the rabid Inferno on him?”

  Cait’s heart stuttered as she remembered Dante’s fury. “I had to talk him down.”

  “Why in the hell would you do that?”

  “Do you want me to date a convicted murderer?”

  “Oh.” Paul grimaced. “That bad?”

  “Yeah, tha
t bad.” She paused. “I slept with Dante.”

  Paul’s brows rose. “Well, that has been a long time in coming. Literally.”

  “Does everything have to have an innuendo with you?”

  “Of course. Talk would be boring otherwise.” He plopped beside her on the couch and took her hand. “So tell me, is G.I. Joe’s thingy a teeny-weeny or thicky-wicky?”

  “Paul!”

  He sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll let my imagination run wild.” His expression turned serious. “What’s got you spooked?”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Worry shouldn’t be on your face after a night of sex with Macho Man.”

  “He wanted to talk this morning.”

  “The bastard.”

  She smacked his arm. “Stop it. I know it’s stupid. But I’m terrified.”

  “Of what?”

  “How many boyfriends have I had?”

  Paul winced. “Ah, Cait, let’s not go down that road.”

  “How many?”

  “What’s your definition of ‘boyfriend’?”

  She jerked her hand from his. “See! That right there is why I’m terrified. I’ve never had a relationship with a regular man, much less a man who’s a panted-after MMA star in a sport I find appalling.”

  “Forget about his career right now.”

  “How can I do that? It is a huge part of him.”

  “Yeah, but he’s not asking you to marry him. Enjoy the man who wants you, Cait. Let him help you learn the things you’ve missed out on all these years. Nowhere does it say that just because you’ve slept together everything has to be serious now. Enjoy his fine ass and let what may come, come.”

  He was right. So Dante had wanted to talk. It easily could’ve been a last-night-was-fantastic chat, because it had been. His questions this morning shouldn’t make her panic. But even as she tried to convince herself, a voice in the back of her mind told her she was wrong. Very wrong.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dante’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. For the last hour, the Atlanta skyline had been silhouetted against the darkening sky, teasing him. Once again he fiddled with the radio before clicking it off with a disgusted grunt.

  Beside him, Caitlyn sighed.

  The longer they sat in standstill traffic, the angrier he got. He glanced at his watch.