Page 67 of Back in Black

But now what? Should she excuse herself, get dressed, and leave before he asked her to go?

Drawing in a fortifying breath, she decided on being proactive again. “Brett?”

He kissed her shoulder, her throat, and worked up to his elbows again. More slumberous than she’d ever seen him, he searched her features and smiled. “You look great freshly tumbled, Ms. Porter.”

That made Audrey chuckle. “You always look great.”

Leaning down, he took a love bite of her collarbone, her shoulder—and fell to his back next to her with a hearty sigh. Eyes closed, unaffected by his nudity, Brett said, “I’m starved. You want to eat?”

“I don’t know.” She’d never really looked at a man after sex, with his erection softened, a spent condom in place. Brett’s naturalness fascinated her. “I don’t know what we’re doing here.”

He looked at her. “What do you mean?”

She licked dry lips. “You drove me here. I don’t have my car. I mean, I could take a cab—”

“No.” He frowned at her, and then asked, “Are you in a hurry to leave?”

Trying a different tack, Audrey asked, “How late did you want me to stay?”

That deepened his frown. He hesitated, but then rolled up to one elbow beside her. “I get up at the crack of dawn to jog. I get back here around seven A.M., and then I only have a few hours before I head to the gym.”

If she stayed, it’d be a huge imposition on him. Audrey tried to make this easier for him. “Then we should make it an early night.”

In deep thought, he cupped her breast in his big hand. “Or you could stay the night and I’ll take you back on my way to the gym.”

He wanted her to stay! “I don’t have a toothbrush here.”

That blurted response amused him. “I think we’re to the point where we can share mine.” Kissing her again, he stroked his tongue over hers to accentuate his point. “But if you want to go home, I’ll take you. I mean, if you’re not comfortable here.”

The way he said that made her wonder at his meaning. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”

“It’s not the best neighborhood.” Almost on cue, a police siren sounded.

Before Audrey could formulate a reply, Spice started scratching at the bedroom door, and Brett exited the bed in a rush. “Be right back.”

He left the bedroom door ajar, but Spice followed him. Audrey scooted up to lean against the headboard. She pulled the soft quilt up to cover herself.

Brett returned, sans condom, and went to the dresser to pull out a pair of dark, snug boxers. He sat on the bed beside her hip, and Spice leaped up to join him.

Smoothing a hand over Audrey’s thigh, he thought for a second and then glanced up at her. “I don’t want you to think that I stay here, in this cheap apartment, because I can’t afford anything better. Truth is, I get well paid for fighting. But I grew up poor, so in a lot of ways, I’m more comfortable here than I would be somewhere else. Especially while I’m training. But mostly I stay here because I’m socking away a lot of money.”

It pleased Audrey that Brett wanted her to know his thoughts, but it worried her that she’d somehow led him to believe that the material stuff mattered to her.

“I like you, Brett, wherever you live. You don’t owe me any explanations.” Where he lived would never be the issue.Whathe did . . . his participation in the bloody sport still left her floundering in conflicting emotions.

“I want you to understand, that’s all. I want you to . . . I don’t know, see me as more than a fighter, maybe.” He scratched the cat’s ears, prompting Spice to a loud purring that resonated in the small room. “I know how you feel about it, Audrey.”

For the first time, she regretted her attitude about his chosen sport.

Brett didn’t quite look at her as he defended his career. “I fight because I like it and I’m good at it. More than any other sport, it challenges me to be my best, physically and mentally. But it’s not who I am, it’s just what I do. I don’t want you to judge me asonlya fighter. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so.” And because she really was starting to understand, Audrey added, “Fighters are individuals. They can’t be stereotyped.Youcan’t be stereotyped.”

Her statement lifted his scowl. “Exactly. I’ve met some who are bullies, and some who wouldn’t hurt a fly outside the arena. Family men, die-hard bachelors, partyers, and loners. Dropouts and guys with multiple college degrees. Mostly what successful fighters have in common is that we work hard and prefer being physical to sitting behind a desk. But that’s it.”

For Audrey, Brett was unlike any man she’d ever met, much less other fighters. Not that she personally knew any other fighters. “Most of them aren’t as talented as you.”

He gave her that quirky smile again. “You might not be the best judge of that. I’m good, and I know it. But in fighting, one mistake can give you a loss, and every fighter can get caught. I’m training with some guys now that are pretty damned good, and that helps. They’re icons in the sport, and I’m lucky to get to train with them.”

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