Rebel (7 page)

“What are you thinking?” Wes said.

She met his gaze and found him fully attentive, intensely focused on her. “I don’t really know anything about medicine or mechanics, but the round things at the hip on the rig, those are the hinges, right? They have some type of mechanism inside that makes them pivot?”

“They do. A spring mechanism.”

Her mind focused on physics and function, much easier on her churning guts. “That would produce a movement equal to the pressure applied to the spring. To support a heavy weight, you’d need heavy springs, which would need a certain amount of strength to operate. Strength your brother may not have initially.” She tilted her head and rested her chin in her hand, gazing at a spot over his shoulder. “You might get better control with electromagnetic conductors.”

He sat back, brow furrowed. And, oh crap, that expression was so freaking adorable she lost her train of thought.

“I didn’t think of that,” he said, absently moving around his fries again. He still hadn’t touched his burger, despite his earlier comment about being starved. “I’d have to get up to speed on the new EM products out there. Probably pretty easy to relay them with the electric.”

“Electric?” She lifted her brows. “You have that thing wired?”

His gaze returned to hers. “Yeah, it’s got a battery pack at the control center that sits at the base of the spine with an AC outlet for charging. Why?”

“Because with electrical capacity, you’re talking almost limitless potential for the mechanism. You can put a computer chip between the relay and the device and make it sing Sinatra if you wanted.”

Wes’s lips parted. His eyes filled with excitement. Then he hit an invisible wall, and his face fell. “That programming… That’s some special shit, right?”

Rubi suddenly realized what she’d just walked herself into—more entanglement with Wes. Yes, she could program this device for him, but she was already working on two other projects—the NSA app and these new stunt apps for Jax. Not that she couldn’t take on another; she often juggled several at once, but…

“It’s a specialty,” she hedged, “but I don’t know if it’s all that special.”

Jax’s cell rang, drawing Wes’s attention and giving Rubi a millisecond of relief. She didn’t want to tell him she couldn’t do it, but hell, she really didn’t need to be spending night and day with him—not with his mind so set on starting something with her.

Rubi glanced at Lexi and found her friend studying her with a confused, suspicious look. They both knew Rubi could program the hell out of a freaking caterpillar if asked, and she could tell Lexi was wondering why she didn’t offer up her services—like she did for everything else. For now, Lexi was leaving it alone. Rubi had no doubt she’d get a grilling later.

When Jax disconnected from the call, he looked at Wes. “Bad news, bud. You’ve got Bolton babysitting duty tonight.”

Rubi winced. The costar of the film, Jason Bolton, was the actor Wes was doubling in the movie. He was also notorious for carousing, drinking, and starting fights. Because Wes coached Bolton on his part in the stunts, he and Wes had built a rapport. And the production company wanted to protect their investment in Bolton by having Wes go out with him as an unofficial keeper.

“No,” Wes whined, dropping back in his chair. “That guy goes out more than anyone I know.”

“I offered to do it myself,” Jax said, “but Bolton responds better to you.”

“That guy is a liver transplant waiting to happen,” Rachel said.

“Fucking Bolton,” Wes grumbled. “Remind me not to ever double the asshole again. Last week he nearly got me killed. If I’m going to die, it’s going to be on a bike, not from some jerk starting a bar brawl.”

The whole topic of dying on a bike after what she’d nearly witnessed today hit Rubi wrong. She needed some space.

“I’ve got to get going, guys.” She pulled her purse from the chair and bills from her wallet. “I’m behind on my mind-numbingly scintillating NSA project.”

“You haven’t even eaten,” Wes said. “And you have to drive me back.”

“I’m sure Jax will get you where you’re going
and
finish my lunch.” She stood and held out her hand. “Keys, handsome.”

He pushed to his feet and slid his hand into his pocket. “I’ll give them to you at the car. That way you have to let me walk you.”

She dropped her hand and looked at Lexi. “We’re still on tonight?”

Lexi pursed her lips. “Sounds like you’re kinda tight on time.”

“If I don’t break for an hour or two, my brain will fry.”

“Okay, if you can do it. If not, tomorrow’s fine.”

“What about me? And the club?” Rachel asked, a beaming grin on her face. She really was adorable.

“I’ll call you.”

As Rubi and Wes started through the restaurant to the exit, he pressed his big, warm hand to her lower back. His fingers touched the skin exposed beneath the hem, and Rubi felt as if she’d been shocked with a live wire.

As soon as they stepped out the front door, Wes slipped his arm fully around her waist and pulled her in the opposite direction from her car.

Her heart kicked. “Wes—”

He sidestepped into an alley bordering Crossroads and pushed her against a wall, then leaned his body into hers. All that warm muscle pressed into her, clouding her mind. Banked desire swelled in a hot wave and her entire body tingled to life. She barely managed to keep her hands pressed against his chest instead of wrapping them around his neck to pull his head down. Barely kept herself from sliding his zipper down and hiking a thigh to his hip, opening just enough to take him inside her body.

“Wes, come on.” She sounded as breathless as she felt.

“If you don’t go to Stilettos for sex, why do you go? There are hundreds of clubs in LA, Rubi. Why Stilettos?”

“It’s none of your—”

He bent his head and kissed her. This wasn’t anything like the sweet start he’d used in the car. His mouth was heavy and hot. His lips demanded she respond. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. But her mouth just…did.

Damn, but she loved the way he kissed. Every slid of his lips, every stroke of his tongue smooth and confident and lust-filled. Just the right pressure, depth and tilt. Just the right mix of sensual and sinful. She could easily spend hours kissing this man.

Which was why she pushed against his chest and pulled her head back. “Don’t start that again.”

“Why do you go to Stilettos, Rubi?”

She heaved a breath and blurted out the truth, “Because it’s easy to pick men up there.”

“Baby, it’s easy for you to pick up men anywhere.”

“Not the kind who only want what I want.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sex.”

A lead fist sat in the middle of her chest. She didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. They both knew he was right. He eased one thigh deeper between her legs until the thick muscle pressed her sex and his heat tore through his jeans. The rigid line of his cock rode her hip, making her throat dry. Completely against her will, her eyes closed on an exhale of pleasure. Want tightened a strap around her chest. Need stretched a fiery rope from her shoulders through her hips.

Wes’s growl brought her eyes open. His face was taut, his jaw jumping, his eyes fiery with lust. She desperately wanted to look into his face with this wicked expression as he fucked her. Drove deep and hard. Hammered her until she shattered.

“You’ll go pick up a stranger for a one-night hookup,” he said, “but you won’t say yes to me?”

She couldn’t think, caught between needing to push back and needing to sink in. “You aren’t interested in one night. And I’m not interested in more. Can’t you see the problems that would cause?”

He didn’t answer, but he was thinking. The determination and cunning was back in his eyes. “So why hasn’t the waiter seen you in a while? How long has it been since you were there?”

“I don’t know,” she snapped, irritated. Turned on. Frustrated. “I don’t keep it on my calendar.”

“A week? Two?” He pressed his thigh higher and rocked against her. Currents of pleasure shot from her sex to her chest and expanded in hot pressure. Rubi fisted his T-shirt. “A month? More? How long?”

“More…I think. I don’t know.” She was using all her concentration not to rock against the thickly muscled thigh between her legs. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I’ve been busy. And I don’t need it. I haven’t wanted it.”

A knowing hot look crept into his eyes just before he moved his thigh. His heat and pressure rubbed her clit in a long, slow rocking slide. Fire leapt through her sex, across hips and climbed into her lower belly. She clutched his shirt tighter. “Wes…”

His name came as more of a plea than a warning and Rubi’s eyes closed as she bit her lip against a moan.

“I think you both need it
and
want it,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear. “But I think you need it and want it with me. And I’m not at the club. I’m hanging with Lexi and Jax, so that’s where you are.”

She huffed a disgusted sound. “The arrogance is not attractive.”

“It’s not arrogance. It’s obvious. And ridiculous to risk yourself with strangers when I’m right here. Ready, willing, and plenty able.” He pulled his head back and looked into her eyes. “Let’s make an arrangement so you can get on with your day. If you need or want sex, you come to me.”

She pulled in a breath. “Dream on, Lawson. You are not—”

He lowered her head and pulled her bottom lip between his. His tongue slipped over the flesh before he let go and murmured, “And I’ll give it to you any way you want it, any way you need it.”

She lifted her head and gazed up at him. His skin was pulled tight in a serious expression, his eyes shadowed with lust. A delicious shiver traveled over her shoulders, into her chest, and tightened her nipples. She rarely appreciated men telling her what to do. Even in bed, she was generally the aggressor. She maintained control that way. And she could definitely see how control was slipping from her now, which was a very dangerous thing, because she knew this man.

His success hadn’t been a whim. He was relentlessly driven. Intelligent. Clever. Even a little devious. A perfectionist when it came to his work. And, according to Jax, all his girlfriends had been solid, monogamous, serious relationships. She knew what he wanted, and she knew what he’d do to reach his goals.

She narrowed her eyes and considered him, trying to pretend he wasn’t pushing her far too close to climax in an alley with nothing but the pressure of his thigh. “You want a sex-only arrangement? Is that what you’re saying?”

A shadow of doubt passed through his eyes. She hardened her shell before opening herself up to his judgment and rejection. She didn’t see any other way at the moment.

“Because they get far less of me than you have now,” she said. “They get one round of mindless sex. Nothing more. We aren’t friends. We don’t talk. We don’t hang out. We don’t do things for each other. We rarely even meet again unless it’s at a club in passing. And I don’t sleep with them again.” She paused, reading the gradual decline of his expression. “Is that really what you want, Wes?”

The pressure of his body eased. And when his thigh pulled from between hers, she was left cold and frustrated, her sex throbbing. He stepped back, leaving Rubi’s stomach churning uncomfortably with mingled disappointment and relief. Her body aching with unfulfilled need.

But he didn’t let her go. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around her waist; the other held her jaw.

“Why?” was all he asked.

“Because that’s all I can give without hurting someone. And I really,
really
hate hurting people.”

His gaze searched hers, and Rubi was struck again by just how handsome he was. She understood why he was often solicited to act instead of perform stunts. Those mysterious eyes, that wickedly seductive grin, the square jaw were movie-star quality. And he’d learned enough from Jax to take on a bit part—but only when a stunt called for it. Because Wes was a simple country boy at heart. Money didn’t tempt him. He saw fame as a burden. He just wanted to have fun. Which was why they got along so well—when things weren’t serious.

A deep wave of affection washed through Rubi, pulling emotions to the surface. He was such a good man, and she was so damn crazy about him.

Which was why she wouldn’t let either of them ruin that with sex.

Five

The throbbing beat of “Let’s Get Loud” by Jennifer Lopez thumped through the club, into the floor, up the legs of Wes’s stool, and straight through his balls. And he didn’t need anything jostling that area. His entire package already felt like stuffed sausage.

As soon as he had cut Bolton off and thrown him in bed, a drunken mess, Wes had come to Stilettos. And discovered the club wasn’t what he’d expected. The lighting was low and dramatic. The seating areas intimate, but not exclusive, with a high-quality look and feel.

Three different bars dotted the club. At the largest, positioned at the center of a seating area to the left of the massive dance floor, a big biker-looking dude slid his hand down the open back of Rubi’s… Well, he guessed he should call it a dress. In reality, it was more like a sheath of black lace, fitted to every curve of her heavenly body, with a few sparkles covering the most private of her private areas. A few inches of sleek fringe bounced at the hem when she moved, the strands barely covering her ass cheeks.

The simple sight of her made so much heat and need build inside him, Wes couldn’t stop shifting in his chair.

He’d come here with one purpose—to watch Rubi pick up another guy, sure it would turn his mind around, allowing him to let go of this ridiculous fantasy he’d been clinging to for months.

But she’d been flirting with Biker Dude for a good thirty minutes, and nothing had happened. Other than Wes dreaming up ways to break every finger on the biker’s hand, which was currently drifting toward Rubi’s ass—an ass Wes had been holding just hours ago.

She shifted out of his reach before he grabbed one perfect cheek.

Wes exhaled and rubbed his face. What the fuck was she doing? If she wasn’t going to pick up someone for sex, why had she come?

“Looks like your date got hung up.” Andrea stopped beside his table, her full, painted mouth lifting in a seductive smile, dark eyes heavy-lidded.