Rock Chick 03 Redemption (29 page)

“Holy cow,” I said.

The game had sucked five hours out of me and it felt like five minutes.

I turned to Brody. “I don’t think Diablo is good for me.”

“Some can take it, some can’t. It’s the wil of Diablo,” Brody replied.

I nodded at the profound sageness of his reply.

Hank tugged me toward the door and I could swear he was laughing.

“Later,” Brody cal ed as we walked out.

Chapter Sixteen
Prayers

Hank went to get Shamus and I went to the safe room to pack my stuff.

I was standing at the reclining chair, shoving the last bits into the bag when Shamus ran to my side.

“Hey boy,” I said, bending at the waist to give him an ear scratch that turned into a hand wash from Shamus’s overexcited tongue. Apparently, the last five hours away from me had been doggie-traumatic for my furry chocolate boy.

“Ooo,” I cooed. “Did Auntie Roxie leave you with the scary, badass dudes in the boring room? Poor fel a.” I felt Hank’s heat at my back before his arm slid around my middle and I straightened. His chin came to my neck and shifted my hair, then his lips were there. Shamus sat on my feet.

“Have a good day?” Hank said against my neck.

I shivered, then turned in his arm, his head came up and I looked up at him. Shamus shifted to sit with his body leaning against both of us.

“Yeah,” I told Hank, surprising myself because I meant it.

“Good,” he said, and I could tel he meant it too.

I looked at him. He looked his usual handsome but tired.

He hadn’t had a ful night’s sleep, interrupted or not. He hadn’t had his food delivered, even by a snotty bitch. He hadn’t spent his afternoon being a make-believe, kickass assassin and kil ing make-believe orcs. He’d spent his day being a real life cop and going to ugly crime scenes.

“How was your day?” I asked, knowing the answer.

“Shit,” he replied.

Yes, I was right. I knew the answer and I felt something happening to me, something drawing me to him and, against the directives of my mind (if not my heart), my body leaned into his. His other arm came around me.

“I guess it’s not fun, going to the scene of a homicide at three o’clock in the morning.”

“No. As many times as I’ve done it, it’s stil not fun.” As many times as he’d done it.

Good God.

Before I could stop myself, I lifted my hand and, with my middle finger, I traced the lower edge of his bottom lip. I watched my finger touch him and then I looked into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I whispered.

His eyes changed. I couldn’t describe it, they warmed, softened and I felt the change in a physical way, straight to the deepest depths of my bel y.

Then his head bent toward me, my hand slid across the stubble of his cheek and he kissed me, no messing around, it was ful on hot and heavy with lots of tongue.

When he was done, his mouth trailed to my ear as I held on tight, trying to recover from the kiss. My hand that was at his lip was around his neck, my fingers in his hair, my other arm was wrapped around his waist.

At my ear, his voice hoarse with something—passion, maybe just emotion—he murmured, “I want to fuck you right now. I want to slide inside you and erase this shitty day.”

“Whisky,” I breathed, not intending to say anything more, his words had robbed me of speech.

Did he honestly think I could do that for him?

One of his hands went under the hem of my sweater and into the waistband of my corduroys. The other one slid over my behind and he pressed me into him. I could feel his hardness against me.

Yes, I guessed he thought I could do that for him.

And that thought overwhelmed me.

It al hit me then. His job, his responsibility, three o’clock phone cal s, a gun on his belt, the shit he sees, the people he deals with. Then, after a day of that, going home to his house and his dog and, once there, he would be alone. No one to talk to about it or just help him forget.

It seemed ludicrous, a man like Hank being alone, he could be with anyone he chose.

He probably didn’t even care.

But
I
cared.

Oh shit.

I was seriously in trouble.

Before I could process how much trouble I was in, his tongue traced the curve of my ear and I melted further into him. He twisted, taking me with him. Shamus scurried away from our legs and then moseyed to lie down by the door.

Hank started backing me to the bed.

“Hank,” I said, but he didn’t answer. He pushed me away from him and undid my belt. It fel to the floor and we stepped over it. His hands went into my cardigan, opening it and then he pressed my almost naked torso against his.

Then, I remembered something and ice shifted into my boiling veins.

“Hank, they have cameras in here.”

“I don’t care,” he said.

Oh no.

He couldn’t mean that.

Could he?

“I think they even have microphones,” I went on.

“I don’t care,” he repeated.

He
did
mean it.

The backs of my legs hit the bed and I wasn’t prepared for it. I fel back and he came down, his knee settling on the bed between my legs. He was on top of me a moment and then rol ed to the side, pul ing me with him, sliding his thigh between my legs as his hand at my ass slid my crotch along its length. His mouth went back to my neck.

Oh my, but it felt good.

Even so.

“I don’t want them watching,” I said.

“They won’t watch. They’l turn off the cameras.” I wished that was true, but I’d spent time in that room and after awhile, you’d watch
anything
.

“No they won’t,” I said. “I know what it’s like sitting in there, it’s boring as hel . They’l total y watch.” there, it’s boring as hel . They’l total y watch.” His head came up. Then he said in his authoritative voice, addressing the room at large. “Turn off the cameras.” Then his mouth went back to my neck, clearly thinking that was that.

Good grief.

“They aren’t going to do it,” I told him.

His tongue slid down my neck to touch at the base of my throat.

“They’l do it,” he said against my throat.

“They won’t. You have to go check.”

His head came up and he looked at me like I’d just asked him to pop out and fetch me some Russian caviar.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

He pressed my behind, putting me in intimate contact with his rock-hard crotch.

“Sunshine, I’m in no condition to go check.” Mmm, it would seem he was right.

I thought about it then I made my decision. I’d hate it, but I’d do it, with conditions.

“Okay, but, just in case they’re watching, we have to do it with as many clothes on as possible and you have to be on top so they won’t see me.”

He stared at me a beat. Then he buried his face in my neck and I felt his body move with laughter. Then his lips slid along my cheek again and he kissed me, stil laughing.

Then he kept kissing me.

I knew two kinds of Hank Kisses. The light kisses and the make-you-dizzy kisses.

These kisses were a third kind of kiss. His hands roamed my bottom and back and I realized these kisses weren’t leading anywhere. They were cuddling-with-Hank kisses; softer, sweeter, slower, stil lots of tongue but mostly just-be-together-and-touch-while-you’re-necking kisses.

They made me a different kind of dizzy.

After awhile, he stopped kissing me and rubbed my nose with his.

Then he said, “Let’s go get something to eat.” I looked at him.

“We’re not gonna do it?” I asked.

“No. I appreciate your sacrifice Sunshine, but if you’re not comfortable, we’re not gonna do it.”

I hugged him, grateful, burrowing my face into his neck.

He was
such
a good man.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He kissed the top of my head.

“I’l erase your day after I get back from the Haunted House,” I offered.

His hand went to my chin and lifted it up so I was looking at him. His eyes had that look in them again, the soft, warm look that made my stomach pitch. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” he said.

I found I had no problem with that at al .

* * * * *

We dropped Shamus off at his house and he took me to a restaurant cal ed Reiver’s that was on a street cal ed South Gaylord which was in Hank’s ‘hood. We sat at the bar and Hank ordered for us. Our beers had just been bar and Hank ordered for us. Our beers had just been delivered when my purse rang. I yanked out my phone, flipped it open and put it to my ear. “Hel o?”

“Yo Bitch!” Annette yel ed into my ear. “Get shot at today?” she asked.

I looked at Hank and mouthed “Annette.” I watched the sides of his lips turn up, then to Annette I said, “Not yet.”

“Girl, Jason and I are
in love
,” she said.

I smiled at the phone. “I already know that.”

“No, I mean with Colorado. We’ve been mountain biking al day. It’s unbelievably amazing,” she told me.

“I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Fun? This isn’t fun. This is nirvana. The trails here kick… fucking… ass. Sofa-King
phat
. Bitch, I’m opening Head 2, Electric Boogaloo in Denver. There’s a store across the street from Fortnum’s that’s for lease. I’m not fucking joking. I’m cal ing about it tomorrow.” Holy cow.

I wasn’t sure this was good. In fact, I was pretty sure this wasn’t good. I didn’t want Annette moving to Denver.

As for myself, I was in Denver-limbo. I couldn’t leave, I wasn’t going to stay.

I’d had a day without incident, time to settle, get my mind around things. I’d cleared my email, did some work, felt my life wasn’t total y out of control.

And I knew what I eventual y had to do.

The signs were al there; the right ones. Lee’s cheek kiss, Kitty Sue making us spaghetti, Indy’s unspoken invitation to the Sacred Sisterhood of Nightingale Women, me getting straight As on Malcolm’s Test.

It wasn’t that, it was me.

Things with Hank were good, fucking fantastic actual y, but that wasn’t going to last. I knew that like I knew The Gap’s clothing sizes ran smal . I was damaged goods and when things settled down and Hank had a minute to think, he’d realize just what I was and that he could do better. I wanted to be long gone before that happened.

My plan was simple. I was going to ride the wave, get safe and not cause any (more) trouble and then I was getting the fuck out of Dodge.

I knew I’d lost my heart, it was too late to protect that, but I wasn’t going to give it time. I wasn’t going to be there when the warm, soft look in Hank’s whisky eyes turned cold.

I came out of my thoughts and re-entered the phone conversation. “Annette –” I started to say in protest.

“No talking me out of it. Jason and I are both agreed.

Anyway, we real y like your friends.”

I looked at Hank. “They aren’t my friends, they’re Hank’s.”

“They’re everyone’s friends,” Annette declared as I watched Hank’s eyes flicker with control ed frustration.

Annette went on. “We’re coming down the mountain now, then we’l shower and get some food. We’re supposed to meet at Al y’s at eight thirty. See you there.” Then she disconnected.

I flipped the phone shut.

“Annette’s thinking of moving to Denver,” I told him.

Hank’s hand came to my knee, his eyes registered approval. “That’l be good.”

I bit my lip.

Hank watched my mouth.

“Shit,” Hank said.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t like your look,” he said.

“What look?” I asked.

He leaned into me and his hand slid up my thigh to rest at the side of my hip.

“Rewind,” he said, his face close to mine. “Let’s go back to the Roxie of fifteen minutes ago. The sweet one who didn’t argue and did what she was told. I like her.” Wel !

“That isn’t the Real Roxie. The Real Roxie argues and never does what she’s told and is a pain in the ass. This Roxie is Freaked-Out Life-in-Danger Roxie. You don’t like the Real Roxie, then give me back my car and I’l go home to Chicago,” I told him.

His eyes went lazy. “I like Real Roxie too.” My eyes narrowed.

He grinned.

Then, he went on. “I was just enjoyin’ the sweet one.” Then he took my hand, lifted it and pressed my middle finger to his lower lip reminding me what I’d done in the safe room and showing me how he felt about it. I held my breath as his mouth opened and his tongue touched my finger.

“Good God,” I whispered, staring at his mouth and completely forgetting about my snit.

“Black bean dip,” the bartender announced, oblivious to the public foreplay, pul ing us out of the moment and putting a bowl of dip and some corn chips in between our beers.

My eyes slid to the side and I saw a table of three women. Al three were staring at us openly. Or more to the point, staring at Hank. Their faces al showed identical expressions of sweltering hot lust to the point of being openly carnal.

I yanked my hand away from Hank’s and reached for a chip while I col ected myself. I heard Hank’s soft chuckle before he took a pul of his beer.

Fucking Hank.

My phone rang again, I grabbed it as I dipped in the chip and flipped it open. “Hel o?”

“Hey girl,” Al y said. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Reiver’s with Hank,” I said.

“Excel ent! We were al going out to get some food, too late for you two. How about Annette and Jason?”

“I’m sure they’d like to go,” then I gave her Annette’s number.

“Cool. I’l cal . Listen, tel Hank not to worry. I know he’s got to work tonight. Tel him Carl is going to be there and so is Jason. We’ve got enough stun guns to go around and Daisy’s bringing a bodyguard.”