Rock Chick 03 Redemption (37 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

BOOK: Rock Chick 03 Redemption
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I closed my eyes with relief, then opened them again.

“I’l talk to you tomorrow,” I said.

“Later.”

Disconnect.

“They’re fine. They’re drinking champagne in the dressing room,” I told Luke.

No answer.

“It sounds like everything’s cool. Maybe you overreacted.”

Stil no answer.

I was beginning to feel like I was missing out. Al my friends were stil back there, drinking champagne and I was heading home. I wanted to drink champagne or, at least, have another appletini. Anyway, I liked Shirleen. She was hilarious.

So I said, “Maybe it’s okay. Maybe we should go back and drink champagne. Lottie is going to dance again and I’d like to see it. I’m sure it’s safe.”

That’s when I saw two squad cars, lights flashing, sirens whirring, speeding toward Smithie’s.

I watched them fly by us and kept turned in my seat, looking out the back window, hoping they’d also fly by Smithie’s.

They turned in.

Luke pul ed forward through the now green light and, half a block up, he slowed to let another squad car take a left onto our road and it flew by us too.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“You were sayin’?”

Jeez.

* * * * *

I let us into Hank’s and Luke made me stand at the door while he checked the house. Once he was done, we flipped on a bunch of lights and he took me to the backdoor where he let out Shamus. We stood together silently at the backdoor while Shamus did his business and then moseyed back into the house. Luke closed and locked the door and turned to me.

Shit.

Alone with Luke.

“You want coffee?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

We walked back to the kitchen and I ground the beans and made a pot of coffee.

I had no idea how long Hank was going to be and Luke was obviously staying until Hank got home. It might be a long night. We’d need a lot of coffee.

When it was set to brewing, I turned to Luke and he was leaning with hips against the counter, arms crossed on his chest, watching me with his eyes half-mast.

Shit.

I decided to start an unsexy conversation.

“Where were you shot?” I asked.

“Gut,” he answered.

Holy cow.

Even I knew a stomach wound was serious business.

“Are you okay now?”

“You already asked me that.”

He was right, I had.

I found myself getting angry. I don’t know why.

“Wel that just sucks!” I snapped. “They get the guy who shot you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good!” Then I found myself getting mother hen. “You should wear protective stuff, like one of those vests. You should probably be wearing one now. Who knows what could happen in your line of business. It should be standard issue.”

“I was wearin’ a vest. They were armor-piercing bul ets.” I gaped at him.

“Aren’t those il egal?”

“It wasn’t exactly a law-abidin’ citizen who shot me.” After he said that, his eyes dropped to my legs and I realized Shamus was sitting on my feet and I was absently stroking his head.

“The dog’s claimed you,” Luke said.

“He’s a friendly dog, he likes everyone,” I told him.

“He isn’t sittin’ on my feet.”

This was true, he wasn’t.

I looked down at Shamus. Shamus looked up at me. I gave him a ful head rub with both hands. He licked my wrist then leaned into my legs.

When I straightened and looked at Luke, he had on one of his half-grins.

“What?”

“Hank doesn’t stand a chance.”

“What does that mean?”

“Not that he’d want to,” Luke went on as if I hadn’t spoken.

“Excuse me?”

Luke pushed away from the counter and came at me.

I braced, not knowing what to expect.

He got in my space, reached around me, opened a cupboard and pul ed down a mug. He set it on the counter beside me and tilted his head down to look at me.

I was holding my breath.

“You can go to bed,” he said.

“I can?”

“Yeah.”

“But what about you? What are you going to do?” No answer.

I went into good hostess mode.

“I can’t go to bed with you awake and forced to hang around. That’l be boring.”

“I’m used to it,” he told me.

“Stil ,” I replied.

“Go to bed,” he commanded. Definitely commanded, no other way to put it.

I wasn’t the kind of girl who listened to a command.

“I’l keep you company,” I offered.

“Babe,” he said, his eyelids lowering again. “Hank’s got no worries with me movin’ in while things are good between you two. I don’t move on another man’s woman.” Wel , that was good to hear.

He went on. “If I were you, I wouldn’t push it.” Good God.

“I’l go to bed,” I said.

“Smart decision.”

I slid out from in front of him, said good night and Shamus and I went to the bedroom. I took off my clothes and makeup and then was left in a quandary about what to do next.

Hank told me he wanted no clothing obstacles when he got home and the way Hank spoke to me that afternoon, I didn’t want any clothing obstacles either. But, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to be naked while Luke was in the house. What if something happened and he had to come in?

I compromised, put on my lilac nightie with the black lace but no underwear.

Then Shamus and I got into bed and after tossing and turning for a while (both of us), we fel asleep.

Chapter Twenty
Gray as the North Pole

Shamus jerked and jumped off the bed.

Automatical y, I moved into the warm space he left behind just as I felt the bed depress when Hank settled into it.

His hands came to my body immediately and pul ed me to him.

I felt like I’d been asleep for hours. I opened my eyes a crack and it was pitch dark so I closed them again.

Hank’s mouth touched my shoulder.

“Whisky?”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips against my shoulder. His hand was at my waist, skimming down the fabric of my nightie to my hip.

“How did your thing go?”

His mouth moved down my shoulder, effectively pushing aside my hair and his tongue touched the skin at the back of my neck. I trembled and my body warmed.

“We got ‘em,” he said against my neck.

“That’s good,” I said on another tremble.

He pul ed the fabric at my hip up and then his hand moved, his thumb pressing in to tag my underwear except it wasn’t there so his hand slid across my naked hip.

Then it froze.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

It didn’t freeze for long. His fingers gripped me. He turned me and pul ed me into him with his hand at my bare ass.

Then he kissed me, not a lazy-necking kiss, he went whole hog.

I was breathing heavy and my body was in ful throb when his lips disengaged from mine.

He rol ed us over, got on top and his hips fel between my legs when I opened them.

He kept his mouth on mine, making me dizzy with his kisses while his hand slid between us, his fingers finding me, making me dizzier. I wrapped a leg around his waist, my arms around his back, using them as an anchor to press my hips into his hand.

He touched me as he kissed me and then one of his fingers slid inside.

“Hank,” I breathed before I nipped his beautiful lower lip gently with my teeth because I could not stop myself. If someone paid me ten mil ion dol ars not to, I would stil have done it.

Without warning, his hand slid away and he was inside me.

He started moving, rocking deep, pounding hard, it was unlike any time before. I got the sense there was control, if there wasn’t he might have hurt me, but there was just not much of it.

I liked it. No, I
loved
the thought of making him lose control.

I lifted my knees and hips, encouraging him to lose more. I started panting, my body jerking with each of his thrusts. I whispered in his ear, running my hands across the skin of his back, stroking the damp hair at his nape.

Then there was no way I could talk.

We breathed into each other’s open mouths until I felt it and every muscle in my body clenched, even the secret ones, and I moaned against his lips just as he groaned against mine.

After, he let his body weight rest on me for half a minute then he rol ed us over, stil connected, him on his back, me on top.

My face was pressed against his neck and his hands were on my bottom.

“Holy cow,” I whispered against his neck.

His fingers dug into me but he didn’t answer.

A little later he asked, “Did I hurt you?”

“Not even close,” I responded.

His hands roamed up my back, one wrapped around my waist, one slid into my hair.

He turned his head and murmured in my ear, “Jesus, Roxie, you undo me.”

My body stil ed and, for once, I was silent.

I didn’t know how to process this information. I didn’t even know how to process the fact that Hank would share it.

It was an admission of grand proportions, especial y for a man like Hank. It was an admission bigger than the one I’d made that morning. It was the kind of thing that was said that changed lives.

Final y, I said, “I thought you were just jazzed after catching the bad guys.”

“That’s part of it,” he replied. “Most of it was knowin’

when I was done, I’d come home to you.”

Good God.

“It helped that you weren’t wearing any underwear,” he finished.

That did seem to be the impetus that speeded things up a bit.

He rol ed us to our sides and his hand went to my jaw.

“We have to talk,” he said.

“We are talking.”

“Not after-sex talk. We need to have a conversation.” Oh no.

I wasn’t ready for a conversation, at least not the kind of conversation he seemed to be talking about.

“It’s late. You have to be tired. I don’t –”

“I know you’re pul in’ away even as you get closer,” he told me.

I started shivering because this was getting plain, old scary.

He was so tuned into me was unreal.

“Hank –”

He stil didn’t let me talk. “I don’t like sayin’ it just as much as you aren’t gonna like hearin’ it, but I understand one thing about Flynn. I don’t like you pul in’ away.” My breath caught in my lungs.

“Don’t say that,” I whispered.

His hand gripped my waist. “It’s not that. It’d never be that. There’s no way I’d ever hurt you, Sweetheart.” My body was shivering like I was cold and Hank’s arms wrapped tight around me.

“We’re different, you and me,” I told him.

“I know, Sunshine.”

Even though he agreed, I kept on. “We’re something else.”

Something special,
I thought, but did not say.

“Roxie, I know.”

“I’ve never been with Bil y how I am with you.”

“Sweetheart –”

“And because of Bil y, I can’t have you.”

It was his body’s turn to stil . “Sorry?”

I was so freaked out, I was on a rol and let my mouth run away from me.

“This’l always be between us. You knowing about him, what he’s done to me, how I let him, comparing yourself to him, me comparing us to what Bil y and I used to have. It’l color us forever. It’l make it go bad.”

“Roxanne –”

“It’s too soon. I was meant to have time, after I got rid of Bil y, time to feel good about myself, time to feel worthy, time to feel clean again. But you saw it, you’re in the middle of it now and I
hate
that. I’ve got used to his stink on me, I can’t al ow his stink to settle on you.”

“Roxanne, be quiet for a second and –”

I pressed my face in his throat. “It’s not just protecting you from seeing me under that fucking sink, Hank. Even without you seeing that, you’l always know that I’m gray.

You’l always be white and, now, for you, I’l always be gray.” If his body was stil before, it was hard as rock now.

“Roxanne,” his voice was as solid as his body; solid and sharp. My name cut through the air like a cleaver. It was fil ed with warning, so fil ed it was dangerous but I was lost in making him understand.

I ignored the warning and went on. “We were over before we even began.”

I barely finished the sentence when he rol ed, his weight settling on me and pushing me into the bed.

“Quiet!” The word hit the room like a gunshot and it shocked me so much, my mouth snapped shut.

Even in the dark, I could feel his eyes on my face.

Then he said, “You’ve been talkin’ to Jet.” I nodded but didn’t speak.

“Jet and I were havin’ a conversation about an internal struggle she was having. We were talkin’ about some people we know, friends we both like, friends who deal drugs and run games and likely murder other people.” Holy cow.

What friends were those?

And what conversation was he talking about?

I didn’t have a chance to ask, Hank continued. “What I said about them in no way… Roxie, hear this right fucking now… in no way does it transfer to you.”

“Hank –”

Now he was on a rol and he was angry.

Way angry.

“You need to learn to give yourself a goddamned break.

You’re so fuckin’ hard on yourself, I wouldn’t even begin to be able to make you feel as badly about yourself as you do.

Even if I wanted to. Christ!”

“You don’t understand.”

“I think I fucking wel do.”

“No you don’t!” I pushed at him but he wouldn’t budge so I carried on anyway. “You didn’t see us together, when we’d visit my folks, the looks on their faces. My friends who’d try to be nice to him even though they knew he was a piece of dirt. I knew they wondered about me. Why was I with him?

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