Page 77 of Simon Says

“So you’re not only a fighter, you’re a shrink, too?”

The bitter wisecrack didn’t faze Simon; he recognized it as a defensive tactic.

But the idea that someone had hurt Dakota damn near killed him. “You think he’s the one who shoved you tonight?”

He expected her to dodge the question, to maybe tell him to butt out of her life or to flat-out refuse to answer.

Instead, she lifted her chin. “I’d bet my favorite boots on it.”

Even now, she had her wit, and Simon knew he was a goner. “He’s the one you thought was watching you yesterday.”

“Someone definitely was. I felt it. But Barnaby denied keeping tabs on me. So who else would it be?”

That she’d trust him made Simon that much more determined to protect her. “If you’re so sure, then why not tell the police?”

“What would be the point? He’s not stupid, so he probably has an alibi lined up if anyone asks.” Her mouth twisted. “He always has an alibi. He always covers his tracks.”

He always has an alibi.Those words reverberated in Simon’s head. Had the bastard attacked her before this? How many times?

Either Dakota didn’t notice his rage or she ignored it. “Besides, where he’s concerned, I’ll admit I’m paranoid. What if it wasn’t him?” She shook her head. “I won’t do anything without proof. I tried that once and it didn’t do me a damn bit of good.”

In that moment, Dakota looked very alone and resigned to staying that way. Simon couldn’t take it. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

At his announcement—which surprised him as much as it did Dakota—she seemed to wilt. Just as quickly, she straightened with new resolve. She looked at his face, his throat, down to his chest and arms. Lower.

She breathed faster, harder. “I’ve changed my mind again.”

Simon didn’t understand her at all. “Okay.” He tried to read her expression, but couldn’t. “What do you…?”

In three long strides, Dakota reached him. Going on tiptoe, she grabbed his head and yanked his mouth down to hers. She was so frantic that her first attempt missed his mouth and landed on his chin. “Damn.” She tried again, this time hitting the mark. She kissed him. Hard.

Simon was stunned. In a very short time, Dakota had gone from defensive to shaken to sexually dominant. He tried to take her shoulders, to hold her back.

She wouldn’t let him.

“Sit down, Simon.”

Without giving him a chance to comply, she pushed him backward toward his seat. Simon let her have her way. She was rough, determined, and he fell into the chair off balance. Before he could figure out how to handle this new mood of hers, she straddled his lap.

What the hell was this?

His cock didn’t care—whatever it was, he liked it.

Her long legs opened around him, her lush bottom snuggled atop his crotch. He was sinking fast, and he knew it.

Dodging her kiss, trying to be noble, Simon said, “Dakota, wait.”

“Be quiet.” With ruthless pursuit, her mouth found his again and she kissed him with blind hunger, grinding her mouth against his, nipping him with her teeth. Simon was both concerned and wildly aroused.

Concern won out.

Doing his best not to hurt her, he turned his head away and held her shoulders. “Hold up, honey.”

“For what?” She licked his jaw, gave a love bite to his neck, his shoulder. “You said you wanted me.”

“Ow, damn it, Dakota—”

Her hot little tongue soothed over his skin, ending with a soft, luscious suck. “You taste so good, Simon.” Rubbing her nose against him, she added, “And you smell even better.”

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