California Dream (2 page)

“You kids have fun!” Eddie tossed over his shoulder while he headed toward a gaggle of women clustered around the drummer.

Lee met Debbie’s eyes, and her friend gave her a wink. The night had only just begun.

Chapter two

“Thirsty?” Roddy asked once they were seated in the back of his limousine. He indicated the well-stocked bar in the back.

“Not really,” she told him. Her eyes lazily roved over the interior of the car.

Roddy decided not to waste any more time. He glanced once out the window at the passing city lights, then tossed an arm over her shoulder and leaned in.

“You’ve got some very sexy lips,” he murmured in her ear.

“Thank you,” she breathed with a flutter of lashes. “I like yours, too.”

“Then maybe they should get to know each other,” he said, letting loose with just a little of the desire he already knew might get out of control. His lips descended and softly urged hers to open beneath him.

Her response was a pleasant surprise. He wasn’t sure who had their fingers in the other’s hair first, but the moment he touched her, the promised passion between them reared up and took over. He found himself swept away by the instant attraction, a feeling that was downright rare for a man with his history. Usually, women were pliant and eager to please. This one seemed to know exactly what she wanted from him, and just how to get it.

“That was a little unexpected,” he breathed when they came up for air.

“Mmm,” was all she said, gazing at him with her unfathomable, half-lidded green eyes.

She made no move to kiss him again, choosing instead to wait for him to take the lead. She simply inflamed him. She was by turns both aggressive and demure. She let him make all the first moves, but when he did, she responded with intensity.

Roddy couldn’t even remember the ride back to his hotel, and had only the barest recollection of their stumbling journey through the lobby. All he could recall was how the desk clerk scowled at the way they had their hands all over each other, and how he gave the man a broad wink when the elevator doors slid shut on the tawdry scene within.

It would be a long time before he was able to forget what happened when they got back to his room. The door had barely shut behind them when they started tearing each other’s clothes off. Everything seemed to burst into flames when they came together with such incredible intensity, and afterwards, he was both speechless and breathless from the encounter.

He was disoriented awhile later when he woke up. Usually, there was bright sunlight streaming through his windows when he awakened, but it was dark this time, and he was not alone. The blonde still lay sleeping at his side.

That was different. He usually sent his women away long before he even considered going to sleep. He had a pattern: take them to his room, enjoy them, give them a trinket or some piece of Roddy O’Neill memorabilia, and then shove them out the door. After, he liked to stay up half the night chain smoking with the band members who straggled in at all hours, and he generally went to sleep right around the time the sun was creeping over the horizon.

He scowled at the woman sleeping beside him. What was it about her? The passion he shared with her went so far off the charts, it knocked him out afterwards. He still felt more as if she had used him than the other way around. It didn’t matter that he was the world-famous rock star who usually did the using. The blonde beside him obviously lived by her own rules.

He wasn’t the slightest bit upset by her lack of awe for him. He wouldn’t admit it to the other guys, but he liked the way she acted like they were equals. Somewhere along the line, he had begun to tire of adoring women who threw themselves at him, as if he was something slightly above human and it might rub off on them. Even if he treated them poorly, they came back begging for more.

This woman was different. Belatedly, he realized he still didn’t know her name. She also had not told him she loved him or adored him, and had not offered to do whatever he liked. He was sure words like that never passed her luscious lips.

The more he awakened, the more it started to bother him that she knew who he was, but he had no idea about her. He wasn’t really sure why, since he usually didn’t care about women’s backgrounds or personal lives. As she lay sleeping beside him, though, he began to wonder who she was and what she did for a living. Her clothes told him almost nothing, since everybody wore jeans and tee-shirts. The only clue to her personality was her rather bizarre leather jacket and matching sneakers. They said absolutely nothing about her name or what she did. They only confirmed what he had known since their eyes first met: she was an original.

Inspiration suddenly struck.

Quietly, so as not to disturb her, Roddy climbed out of bed and unearthed his jeans. They weren’t so easy to find, as he had flung them across the room once he managed to free himself of their confines, and they were halfway under an endtable. He pulled them on, picked up his guitar and cigarettes, and then settled into a chair.

His fingers seemed to find the chords on their own. He strummed quietly, never considering that the noise might awaken her. In Roddy’s world, one got used to sleeping under all sorts of conditions. A softly-strummed acoustic guitar should have been soothing, in his opinion, so just as softly, he began to sing the words that came to mind while he played.

The blonde awakened while he sat in the corner playing his guitar, and he caught her watching him with a smile on her lips. From her serene posture, Roddy guessed she didn’t realize the song was about her, or maybe he wasn’t singing loud enough for her to catch the lyrics. Still, he set his guitar aside when he noticed she had awakened. Just because she inspired him didn’t mean he wanted her to know.

“Not your vision of a librarian? I don’t dress like this for work. I mean, what I was wearing when I was dressed.” She suddenly looked a little embarrassed about sitting there naked.

“No, I don’t suppose,” Roddy agreed. He sat back in his chair and stared a little harder at her. “A librarian, huh? A smart girl.”

She looked away for a second, then pinned him with her eyes. “I came here for you. I think you’re incredibly talented, and a modern poet.”

“Yeah.” They just stared into each other’s eyes for a few more seconds, and then he asked, “Why did you come back here with me? I know it’s not the usual you.”

He paused, not knowing how to explain it without insulting her or hurting her feelings. “Sure. I mean, well, you know how it is.”

“Not really.”

He decided she deserved as much honesty as she gave. “There have been a lot of women, and they’re all the same. They love to service a rock star.”

“I didn’t come here just because you’re a rock star,” she said evenly, and without pique. Her words were actually rather thoughtful. “I’m sure it helped because I wouldn’t have known who you were otherwise, but I came here because you’re you. I like
you
. I like what you say in you music, and the way you say it. You’ve got one hell of a stage presence, and then when we met after the concert, I felt something between us.”

“I know what you mean. I felt it, too,” he admitted carefully, not wanting to lead her on when he wasn’t in a position to make promises. He was leaving in the morning, after all.

She held his gaze with hers as she went on. “If you hadn’t invited me back here with you, I wouldn’t have chased after you or anything. But I think I would have been disappointed.”

Roddy didn’t tell her he forgot there were any other women in the room from the moment their eyes met. He also didn’t bother explaining how bored he had become with everything lately, until he laid eyes on her. They were things he wasn’t ready to digest yet himself, and he certainly couldn’t share them with her.

He immediately obliged, slipping into a new song. It was a soft and melodious piece about falling in love, and his gravelly voice rasped through the melody. Her eyes warmed while he sang, and he found himself almost unable to look away, enjoying the connection between them.

“And trying to find your groove.” Roddy’s voice sounded wistful. “I’ve been in mine since I was sixteen. All I ever wanted to do was rock and roll.”

“You’re lucky. I can’t think of a single career I’d want to do forever,” she said with a rueful look. “I certainly don’t have the driving ambition it takes to be an entertainer.”

She simply lay there against the pillows and watched him advance on her, slowly unzipping his jeans along the way. When he reached the bed and sat on the mattress beside her, she made room for him. His mouth unerringly found hers again, and his arms came around her.

This time was different. This time, she gave herself to him, all warm, willing woman. He plundered her expertly, even tenderly, with slow, deliberate movements that lacked none of the intensity of what had come before.

When it was over and she slept beside him again, Roddy realized she still hadn’t told him her name. He had come right out and asked her, and she still evaded him. He wasn’t sure why she was being secretive, but it intrigued him.

Well, he had his ways.

He rolled out of bed and found her purse under her bright green jacket. He hunkered down, tossed a furtive glance at the blonde in his bed, and unzipped the bag to dump its contents on the floor. Lipstick, a wallet, a checkbook, and assorted female odds and ends tumbled into a pile on the carpet. Roddy scooped up everything but the checkbook and shoved it back inside. He ripped a deposit slip out of the back of the checkbook and smiled when he noted it listed both her address and phone number. Hoping she wouldn’t catch him in the act of snooping through her most personal possessions, he stuck the checkbook back in her purse, zipped it up, and stashed it back under her jacket. The deposit slip was folded and shoved into his pocket.

He had barely straightened when a loud knock sounded on the door. Roddy wrapped a towel around his waist before going to answer it.

Roddy scowled at the thought of “getting rid” of the blonde. Ordinarily, such a turn of phrase wouldn’t have fazed him at all, but he found himself bothered by it that night.

Not until the guitarist had gone did Roddy realize he was bored. The blonde was passed out cold in the middle of his bed, and at the moment he didn’t feel like waking her for another round. He was no longer in the mood to play guitar, which would awaken her. Going back to sleep just wasn’t going to happen. He still wasn’t quite sure he felt like hanging out with the band all night, either. The thought of sitting around, catching a buzz, breathing in smoky air, and watching Eddie romance yet another girl who was totally in awe of them all held no appeal.