When You Dare - Lori Foster [76]
Leaving the towel to drape around his neck, Dare went for a water bottle. Since Molly stayed silent, he supposed it was up to him to figure out the reason behind her visit. “Get much writing done?”
Her gaze came back to him.
Then went over him. Slowly.
She drew in a shaky breath.
Ah. She still wanted him. Good thing, too, since he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to wait.
Maybe he should have taken her last night. That thought had driven him to a hard jog, and then a pounding workout. Not that the exertion had worked to relieve his need. Not enough.
He burned with wanting her. It was insane, unaccountable, but Ms. Molly Alexander pushed all his buttons. Even now, covered in sweat, he could take her. He saw it in her eyes and in the way she held herself. It was a unique type of hell, having to resist her.
But never in his life had he abused anyone’s trust, and he wasn’t going to start now. They would both live with the need until the time was right. Waiting just meant that when he did finally have her, there’d be no holding back.
She had to be ready, because he intended to keep her naked and in the bed for hours.
Affected by her intimate look, Dare dropped his head to stare at his feet in consternation. Molly couldn’t hide her feelings worth a damn, which meant her physical attraction to him was more than obvious—and it pushed him.
He’d just spent a long time trying to work off the sexual tension, but knowing how much she wanted him brought it all right back.
Watching her, Dare swigged the water, set the bottle aside and took a few steps closer. “I’m sweaty.”
She looked from his bare feet to his hips to his chest, bit her lips and said, “You look powerful, like an ancient warrior.”
That sentiment surprised a short laugh out of him. “If you say so.” Trying to put her at ease, he added, “I like to wear as little as possible when I’m working out. Gives me more freedom of movement.”
“I see.” She glanced down at his gym shorts, and then away. “How often do you do this?”
“This?”
“Work out for so long.”
Hadn’t been long enough to alleviate his knotted muscles, but he saw no point in telling her that. Instead, he rolled a shoulder. “Whenever I can.” He thought to add, “It’s important for me to stay in shape.”
Her gaze latched on to his again. “Because of what you do?”
“Yeah.” And because of what he might have to do. In his line of work, chasing down a target was as likely as a direct physical confrontation. And in more than one instance, he’d had to combat multiple adversaries.
He always won.
Molly crossed her arms under her breasts. “I, um, I saw you hitting that punching bag.”
“A heavy bag.” Dare flexed his hands inside the fingerless gloves. His muscles burned, and so did his libido. “I use it to practice strikes and kicks.” He knew how to debilitate, or even kill, with a single blow.
“You’re really good, aren’t you?”
He was, but she hadn’t come down here to compliment him, and they both knew it. “I have to be good at my job, Molly. And that includes being able to defend myself, and others.”
“Like you defended me?”
He’d killed for her. Remembering that, thinking of how she’d looked when he found her, added a strain to his tone. “I do what I have to do.”
“Have you killed many people?”
Narrowing his eyes, Dare stared at her, trying to figure out where she was going with this. But for once, she hid her thoughts from him.
Would she be disgusted with the truth? Could she handle the reality of what he did? “Let’s just say that I’ve killed on more than one occasion and let it go at that.” Waiting for her reaction, he walked over to the bench and sat down to unlace his gloves.
“It’s easy for you?”
“Not easy, no. Just accepted.” Hoping she’d understand, Dare said, “It’s important for me to have that capability, and to know that I won’t hesitate to go there—when it’s necessary.”
“Why?”
She didn’t look frightened or disgusted, just very interested. Dare rested his forearms over his knees and studied