A reporter steps to the table across from us and focuses on Dash, of course. “I’m Connor Meyers from Men’s Health Magazine. We’d really like to profile you. I’ve got a call into your agent to try and seal that deal.”
I lean in and whisper, “Bathroom,” to Dash, and then slide away from the table.
Turns out there’s a line, and I decide to try the second level. I might get done and back sooner. Sure enough, upstairs, a few people mingle about, but the real crowd is downstairs with Dash. I walk down a hallway by the bar, and enter the bathroom, quickly do my thing, wash up, and then stare into the mirror. What do I see? Not the same woman I was with Brandon, I think. But Brandon is devious, vicious, a man who will lash out. Which means, now that I’m in the press with Dash, I have to warn Dash.
The past is only the past when you face it in the future. I read that in a book. No truer words have been written.
Resolved to do what is right, I open the bathroom door and go cold. Brandon is standing there, waiting on me. I wasn’t imagining him. He’s tall, dark, handsome, with a John Travolta dimple in his chin, that I once thought attractive. Now I can barely look at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I was invited.”
Alarm bells are chiming in my head, warning me that he’s up to something. “You have no vested interest in Dash’s books.”
“You underestimate my reach, Allie, sweetheart. You always did.” He steps into me, presses a hand on the wall. “Your father dumped me when you left me. I don’t suggest you underestimate me now.”
In other words, he’s after payback. “Step away,” I hiss. “Get away from me.” His hand comes down on my waist and I shove his chest. “Damn it, Brandon, I’ll scream.”
Suddenly, Dash is there, pushing Brandon back and stepping toe-to-toe with him. “Who are you and what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I grab Dash’s arm, holding onto him. “Dash let’s walk away. Let’s go, now. I’ll explain.”
“Dash Black,” Brandon greets. “I hear you like to punch things. You going to punch me now?”
My heart is racing, charging a million miles an hour. Does he know about the fight club? Dash’s lips curve, and not kindly. “What’s the fun of hitting someone who’ll just fall down?”
“I assure you, I won’t fall down. I’ll rise to the challenge.” Brandon smirks and to my surprise, actually walks away.
The minute he’s gone I turn to Dash and just start spewing information. “Oh my God, Dash. That’s Brandon. My ex. He’s an agent, he was my father’s agent. My father dropped him over me and he wants me to pay. He wants to hurt you to hurt me. And he knows about your fighting.”
“Easy, baby.” He maneuvers me around the corner, down a second hallway leading to the men’s bathroom, and turns me to face him, his hands on my shoulders. “He knows what the press told him. I just had a black eye from a sparring session. He wanted me to hit him so he could get a payday. That’s all.”
“You don’t know him like I do. He’s resourceful. He’s devious. I need you to understand how devious. I overheard him telling someone I was his cash cow. He was marrying me for my dad’s money and my dad knew. He gave him the stamp of approval. My father wanted me away from my mother’s influence, because she kept me hating him. He wanted the money. Now I didn’t just take that from him, my father fired him. And God, this is so embarrassing.”
Dash slides one hand between my shoulder blades and molds me close, the other holds my head. “Do not be embarrassed with me, Allie. God, woman, I love you so fucking much, you don’t ever have to be embarrassed.”
I blink, stunned, all kinds of crazy emotions flooding my entire body. “You love me?”
He tilts my head back, looks into my eyes, and says, “So fucking much and I don’t want you to come back to New York.” His mouth closes down on mine in a kiss I feel to my toes, a kiss that is so much more than a kiss. It’s passion, it’s friendship, it’s love.
“I love you, too,” I whisper, when his lips part mine. “And I want to stay with you.”
He strokes my hair from my eyes and says, “Let’s get out of here.”
“Can you?”
“Hell yeah, baby.” He closes his hand around mine and leads me to the door.
Once we’re in the back of the hired SUV, he pulls me to him and kisses me again, and by the time we’re in the hotel room, we are combustible. We never make it past the front door. We’re naked in about sixty seconds, and I’m against the door while he presses inside me, thrusting and pumping, while I pant through the pleasure.