Fight For Me (6 page)

H
e made his notes and
returned to the parking lot. “I'd say they made off with your
computers,” he said, all semblance of courtesy gone from his voice.
“The furniture is torn up, there are papers and files all over, but
the other electronics are still there.”

“Dammit
!” Dylan exclaimed
before turning to Cassidy. “Who would want your files?”

“
Any number of people
either headed to or currently in court.” She thought a moment. “I
have fourteen pending cases right now.”

“
You're in danger, Miss
Everett, and I'm happy to again offer my protection,” Brandon
started, ready to enumerate why he was a better choice than her
brother's hand-me-down hero. She didn't need to know the offer was
more for his preservation than her own. He didn't know what she
knew about his manipulation of the system, especially when it came
to her brother and new sister-in-law's recent problems. He focused
on hiding a smile. This threat could work to his advantage. He
loved when a plan came together, and even more when a plan just
appeared.

“
Fat lot of good that
would have done,” Black growled. “She was with me, and she will
remain with me.”

H
e gave the tall bounty
hunter a once-over, spending extra time on his immobilized arm.
“You may be a hero, Black, but how do you plan on protecting
Cassidy with only one working arm?”

B
lack closed the space
between them, towering over him by a good four inches. “Cross me,
and you'll see just how lethal I can be.”

T
he other man's yellow
eyes were hard, full of spite. In a fair fight, he was sure Dylan
Black could best him. Of course, there was no way it would ever be
a fair fight if Brandon were involved. “Is that a threat?” he asked
as nonchalantly as if Black had just asked him about the weather.
He hadn't made it this far by showing his cards, and he wasn't even
sure what game they were playing yet.

B
lack was seething, his
chest rising and falling rapidly. “I don't make idle threats. You
do your job—find the bastard terrorizin' Cassie—and I'll do
mine.”

H
e couldn't hide his smirk
at Black's use of a nickname for a stone cold bitch. Maybe she
wasn't as frigid as she'd come off. Interesting thought. “Cassie,
is it?” he repeated. “I didn't know you were fucking your
nursemaid.”

B
lack had his fist pulled
back before Brandon had finished his sentence, Cassidy clinging to
it like a child. “He's not worth it,” she whispered.

F
uck her. He was worth it
and more, but that didn't matter.

“
Don't disrespect her
again, or next time even she won't be able to stop me,” Black
warned instead of letting his fist connect with his
face.

H
e almost wished Black
would've hit him, but aside from the sympathy he might get from
Tiffany, he could think of no good reason to take a punch from
Black's massive fist, offhand or not.
He
affected as innocent a look as he could muster. “It was just a
question.” Turning his hazel eyes to Cassidy, he promised, “Think
about it, dear Cassie. I can protect you.” Her features twisted
into a disgusted look at his offer, and while he wanted to smack it
right off her pretty face, he kept his own expression
bland.

“
I'm quite happy with my
current arrangement, thank you,” she snapped.

F
ucking bitch. Let her
fuck a gimp, let herself get killed. No skin off his nose. “I'll
just bet you are,” he sneered before turning and walking
away.

Chapter Four

H
er house had been
ransacked. Why the hell had her house been ransacked? Cassidy paced
the parking lot, unable to make herself go inside. She felt
violated, and even with Dylan there, she couldn't get to a place
where she'd feel safe. Whirling to face a stoic Dylan she said,
“Take me home.”

He stood still for a long moment, his jaw and
left fist clenched, his eyes unfocused as if what she'd said didn't
make sense. He shook his head slightly before answering her, “You
have to drive.”

“
Right. Lock the house—for
whatever that's worth—and let's get out of here.”

“
Yes ma'am,” he
agreed.

S
he raised wide eyes to
his. “What if they were after your stuff and not mine? I mean, both
our computers are missing, right?”

“
It was your house, your
car, Cassie. There's a better chance someone is after you and not
me.”

“
I'd gotten the occasional
threat before, but nothing until you came to stay with me. What if
it's you in danger? I can't protect you the way you can me.” Shit.
As true as that was, she hadn't meant to sound so
attached.

H
e smiled. “We'll just
have to watch each other's backs then.”

“
Deal.”

~
*~

D
ylan watched her drive
for the second time tonight and wondered what was running through
her mind. A little more than an hour ago they'd been this close to
making love in public and now she was scared stiff and driving on
autopilot. He hadn't even had to give her directions, she had just
gotten in the truck and driven straight down the road. She was
quiet, scary quiet, and he braced himself for the torrent of
emotion that would pull him under when she finally let it
go.

H
e turned his head and
stared out the window, watching the fence posts pass them by. As
they made their way out of Aylesford and into the surrounding
county, the area became more and more rural. He spotted cows and
horses in pastures along with corn, tobacco, and soybeans growing
in fields. It was the best of both worlds—Aylesford and Tyler less
than an hour away, Baltimore and DC not too much further, but the
greenness, the life of the fields and forests soothed him, and was
the exact opposite of the dust of the Middle East. He thunked his
head against the glass. He didn't need to think about Iraq right
now, he needed to focus on Cassie, on keeping her safe and
neutralizing the threat against her. He needed her to give him some
names so he could run them... Shit. His computer was gone. Fucking
gone. How the hell was he supposed to run his business without his
fucking computer? “Fuck.”

S
he turned her head to
shoot him a look. “What?”

“
My fuckin' computer is
gone and it fuckin' had all my fuckin' software on it.”

“
My fucking computer is
gone, too,” she echoed in her not nearly as southern sounding
voice. He liked that she sounded proper even when tossing the word
“fucking” back at him.

“
I know, and I'm sorry,
but my computer might've been able to help me figure out who's
after you.”

“
How would your computer
figure out who's after you?” she asked, once again trying to make
this about him.

“
No one is after me,
Cassie. I'm not a big enough fish. Someone is after
you.”

“
I'm still not convinced.
You have not fulfilled your burden of proof,
Ranger-boy.”

R
anger-boy? “I know it,
Cassie.”

“
You know you need more
proof?”

S
he was pushing his
buttons on purpose, and it was working. He shoved his left hand
through his hair. “I know someone is after you. I just
do.”

“
I still think it's you.”
She jerked the wheel as her eyes widened and her mouth opened.
“What if it's both of us? What if we have someone in common who
wants to screw with us both?”

H
adn't they already had
this discussion? He started to say just that when it dawned on him
that saying something like that would effectively close the door on
any chance of sleeping with Cassidy in the near future. Abandoning
the question, he said, “We need to cross-reference.”

“
Surely you have back-ups
at your house.”

S
he said it like he would
have a vault of flash drives and she was right. “I do.”

“
So why the 'fuck'
earlier?”

B
ecause that laptop was
only three months old and faster than greased lightning. “It was my
favorite.”

S
he stuck out a lip. “Poor
baby.”

Y
eah, he'd be a poor baby
if he rose to the bait. Instead, he changed the subject completely.
“Careful with those lips, Cassie. I want to bite them, taste them,
suck them...” he deliberately trailed off, letting her fill in the
blanks.

S
he emitted a soft sigh.
“Dammit.”

Y
eah, he had her. They'd
deal with computers and cross-references in the morning. Tonight he
was going to unwrap a pale green gift and indulge.

~*~

C
assidy went from worrying
about her home, her computer, her files, and her cases to rubbing
her thighs together while driving. Not an easy feat, and completely
ineffective with the object of her lust exuding raw sexiness not
even three feet away from her. She took a deep breath and played
the game with him. If he could make her wet and aching with almost
a half hour left on their drive, she could return the favor. “I
want to take you in my mouth and down my throat. I want to swirl my
tongue around the tip and lick your essence, I want to feel you
explode.” She swallowed. She was supposed to be torturing him, but
she was doing a fine job of arousing the hell of out herself. “I
want to feel you inside me, hot and hard and huge, I
want—”

S
he cut herself off when
he groaned, his left hand cupping his more than impressive package.
“Stop, Cassie, or I'm gonna make you pull over.”

T
his was a threat? She
directed the Bronco to the shoulder of the winding two-lane road
that led to his home. She knew in twenty minutes they could be at
his place, but she wasn't sure she could wait that long.

“
Cassie,” he
rasped.

S
he put the truck in park
and turned her head to look at him. His jaw had been clenched most
of the day, first in lust, then in anger, and now there was no
question why that muscle was ticking. She wanted to soothe it with
her tongue, she wanted to open his tuxedo shirt and follow the path
down his neck to his chest. She wanted to mount him, to feel his
hard length fill her again and again until she screamed his name.
Her gaze swept up his body, finally connecting to his golden eyes,
the lust and heat she saw there completely ensnaring her. She blew
out a breath. She could straddle him in less than a minute and be
calling his name in five, but that wouldn't be satisfying. Not for
what she had in mind. Before she could talk herself out of it, she
slammed the truck back in drive and sped down the road. She wanted
him, but she wanted him in a bed this time.

W
hen they pulled up to his
beautiful log home, she couldn't get out of the truck fast enough,
almost breaking the heel of her sandal on the gravel driveway. The
faster they got in the house, the faster they could get into bed.
She glanced at Dylan as he made his way to the door.

“
Keys,” he demanded
without turning.

W
hy wouldn't he look at
her? She handed him the keys and grabbed his elbow. “What? You
don't want me anymore?”

H
is chuckle was deep and
rough. “Cassie, if I look at you, I'm going to strip you. Don't you
want to be inside first?”

Y
es, please.
She wished his body were healed and he could be
the savage lover she knew he would be. She wasn't worried he would
hurt her, but she knew he would dominate, would possess, and she
wanted that. She bit her lip. She wanted that? She had never wanted
that before. She stared at his tight ass in his black pants. This
man was more protective, more possessive than any she had dated
before. Maybe that's why those other relationships fizzled. She
needed to be owned, possessed, ravaged. She shook her head. This
was sex, this was fucking, this was mutual enjoyment of each
other's bodies. This was not a relationship, they were not dating.
They were... What were they exactly?

~
*~

D
ylan watched her face go
from “take me” to “oh shit,” and knew he had to do something. He
didn't want to push her—Lord knew he didn't—but she had picked a
helluva time to change her mind. He would stop if she wanted him
to, but he might keel over dead because of it. He took a breath,
let it out slowly. “Cassie, are you thinking too much again?” he
asked quietly.

S
he nodded, that cascade
of reddish-brown hair falling over her shoulder. He wanted to pull
her to him, make whatever problem had entered her mind go away, but
he waited. She was a thinker, and a talker. He just had to let her
do both.

“
What are we doing,
Dylan?” she asked.

“
I was hopin' we were
about to make love,” he answered. He had a boner from the depths of
hell, her husky voice almost making him come in his pants earlier,
but he had to say the next part. “We don't have to if you don't
want to.” She stared at him, her chocolate eyes wide, her pupils
dilated. She still wanted him, but her brain was fighting her.
Taking a guess, he assured, “I really am much better than I was a
couple weeks ago.” He clenched and unclenched his right hand in the
sling. “I can move this arm, and grip items in this hand. I just
have to keep it in the sling between PT sessions to insure I don't
do anythin' stupid.”