Fighting Dirty
Page 71

 Lori Foster

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“I don’t know.” Things with Armie had been so chaotic and ever-changing that she’d forgotten all about her very regular monthly. But now that she realized she was late, she couldn’t just throw that at him, not without being certain first. “Armie is...”
“Hot and complicated?”
Merissa nodded. “Yes.”
“Oversexed, sexy and caring?”
Merissa eyed her. “That, too.”
“Brash and loyal to a fault?”
“Yvette—”
“Funny and strong, but guarded and so, so deserving.”
Sighing, Merissa whispered, “Yes.” For her, for so many, Armie was everything. “You know him well.”
“He’s been such a good friend to me. To everyone.” Yvette sat up and asked, “What will you do?”
“I don’t even know yet if there’s anything to tell him.” Feeling like a complete wimp, and worse, a coward, Merissa shrugged. “I guess I need to take a test or something.”
“You do and I’d love to be with you.” Yvette looked a little excited. “You know, for moral support.”
Yvette’s kindness made her want to cry again. How had she gotten so lucky to have such an amazing sister-in-law? She sniffed, nodded. “Okay. Thank you.” Much as she loved Cherry, her best friend couldn’t keep a secret from Denver. And Vanity would probably insist she should shout it from the rooftops. Yvette, being the calm, deep type, would make the perfect confidante. “But you can’t say anything to anyone. Not even to Cannon.”
Yvette started to nod when the front door flew open, and they both jumped with a startled screech.
Merissa even snatched up her legs, curling around Yvette to protect her—until she realized it was her brother. Good Lord, she’d been so thrown by the idea of a baby, she hadn’t even heard his key in the lock.
Cannon stood there in the doorway, backlit by the porch light and the fury of the storm. As soon as he saw them both the dangerous edge of rage leeched away. He opened his mouth and—
Armie plowed into his back.
They both stumbled in.
“I didn’t expect you to stand there,” Armie said as they righted themselves.
“I didn’t even know you were behind me,” Cannon countered.
There was a staring contest while everyone looked at everyone else. Lightning flashed, a crack of thunder shook the house, then Bray stepped in between the two men and smiled shyly at Merissa.
“Safe and sound,” he said to Armie. “Now can I go?”
* * *
MERISSA WAS SPOOKED and it killed him.
Some asshole, maybe his dad, had set her up and scared her, and Armie really wanted to wring some necks.
But he didn’t even know where to start.
They’d left her car at Cannon’s with the promise Cannon would get it dropped off to her tomorrow morning. She’d ridden along in his truck, sitting between him and Bray, while he took Bray to the foster family that, from what Armie could tell, loved him. Sally and Bill—how fucking normal was that?—hugged the kid and seemed genuinely grateful that he was safe and sound. Bray had looked shamed by how he’d scared them, but they remained understanding, even to the point of taking Armie’s number and promising to keep him updated. They’d treated him like a damned hero or something.
Now he and Merissa were home and he was at loose ends, not sure what problem to tackle first, or even how to feel about it.
“Bray trusts you.”
He looked over at Rissy standing in the middle of the bedroom floor, stripping off her clothes with listless disregard for where they landed. Very unlike her.
The remnants of ruined makeup remained under her eyes, and it hurt him. “How do you figure that?”
She shrugged out of a lacy bra and stood there in nothing more than panties. “I can tell.”
God, she killed him. If they were together a hundred years, he’d never be able to see her like this without being affected.
But he didn’t have a hundred years. After what had just happened, he didn’t even have tomorrow.
On the chair by the mirror, Armie watched her as he peeled off his socks and pitched them toward the pile of Rissy’s discarded clothes. “I like kids,” he said, just to keep her talking.
Her gaze flashed up to his, then her bottom lip trembled before she deliberately flattened her mouth with a very phony smile. “You’re good with them.”
No more so than the rest of the guys at the rec center. When tears welled in her eyes, she blinked quickly and turned away.
Merissa wasn’t one to cry, and seeing her fight it off now hurt something deep inside him. “Rissy.” Still wearing his jeans, Armie went to her, sat on the side of the bed and pulled her into his lap. He kissed the top of her head and made sure to keep his hands on safe territory. “You’re okay now.”
“I know.” She turned into him, holding him tight. “It wasn’t that big a deal. Maybe just a prank that felt wrong.” Her breasts pressed to his chest, warm and soft.
Shit, much more of that and he wouldn’t be able to remain honorable. “Do you want a shower?”
She nodded. “Will you shower with me?”
He hesitated, but it wasn’t like he could hide it. “Long as you don’t mind me being hard.”
She nuzzled into him. “I never mind that.”
“Hey.” He tilted her back. “You’re upset.”
“Mostly I’m tired. And furious. And...and...” She cuddled in again. After a stretch of quiet, she said in a small voice, “Let’s go shower.”
The sooner he got to it, the sooner he could tuck her into bed, cover her body and put his mind on the right track. “All right.” He lifted her, very much enjoying the feel of her in his arms.
“Armie,” she protested.
He headed to the shower. “Let me pamper you.” He kissed the top of her breast, cursed himself and did it again. Once in the bathroom he set her on her feet and started the shower. “You sure you’re not hungry?”
“Not anymore.”
He’d grabbed fast food on the drive home and they’d devoured it in the car. Simon would have a fit if he knew he’d stuffed his face with burgers, but fuck Simon. He’d needed something, and since he couldn’t beat the shit out of anyone, or screw the night away in an orgy, two all-beef patties had won out.
“In you go.” He held the shower curtain aside, then held his breath, too, as Rissy skimmed off her panties.
She brushed past him—pretty deliberately, he noticed—and turned her face up to the shower spray.
Stunning.
That simple word didn’t quite cover how incredibly beautiful she was to him, especially now with her long hair wet down her back, her lashes spiked.
Her nipples tight.
Forget orgies. What he wanted was Merissa Colter holding him tight enough for her nails to sting while he rode her hard.
Without looking at him, she said, “Armie?”
“Hmm?”
“Get naked, and get in.”
“All right.” As he stepped out of his jeans and boxers, he told his dick to behave.
His dick didn’t listen.
He was trying to think about working out, the competition, hell, he even thought about Justice, anything to try to rein in his lust, but then Rissy turned to him, smiled and soaped up her hands.