Rooter (Double H Romance) (23 page)

“Yes, we do,” Rooter agrees with a lust filled voice and plays with the chain on my chest.

I’m in heaven when I hear Rooter’s deep, raspy voice call me “babe.” His hands run through my hair, pushing it away from my face. I open my eyes and am blinded by streaming bright light.

“Hmm?” I ask and squint my eyes. “Where are we?” I don’t recognize the setting. And then I notice the sensation of hot skin against hot skin. I’m draped across the top of Rooter with one leg between his.

“Sorry. I need to let the dog out.”

“The dog?” I blink and look around. Dopey is at the side of the bed. When I see the headboard, I finally make out my whereabouts. We’re in Rooter’s bedroom.

“I’ll be right back.” He kisses the top of my head and gently scoots out from under me. When he stands, I’m shocked by the sight of his bare ass and I gasp. He turns around and gives me a devilish grin before pulling on his jeans.

What the…

Once he’s gone, I lift the sheet and find myself in nothing but my thong. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember what the hell happened last night. The last thing I recall is making out on the sofa at the Red Door.

Chapter 28
Meeting The Family

While Rooter is letting Dopey out, I struggle to remember the events of last night. We both woke up naked so the only thing I can surmise is that we had sex. But I don’t feel sore like I did when… I shake my head. I do
not
want to think about that. Ever.

Maybe Rooter was gentle? I’m sure he would’ve been. God, why can’t I remember? We may have had sex for the first time and I don’t remember a thing about it. I pull down the sheets to check for any visual cues that would indicate whether we did. Upon inspection I find a small love bite on my right boob, but nothing else.

I recall the sight of his gloriously sculpted ass and feel my face flush. Something must’ve happened. Why else would he have slept in the nude? We’ve shared a bed several times and each time he’d worn shorts or sweatpants.

Had I touched his naked body last night? I bet I did. And I can’t remember! Argh! I could’ve done any number of things to him, and vice versa. I could’ve had the best night of my life and I can’t recall a second of it. Frustrated, I kick the bed in a tantrum.

When I hear Rooter coming up the stairs I pull the sheets back over me. He ambles to the bed with Dopey at his side. His jeans hang deliciously low on his hips. Just above the waistline on the right where his V is, there’s a purple love bite of his own. I lick my lips absentmindedly. Yeah, I had a good night.

“How do you feel?” He asks and slides into the bed next to me.

“Not bad at all.” I furrow my brow. My lack of memory indicates that I had
a lot
to drink. “How is that possible?”

His lips curl up into a smile and he grazes my cheek with the outside of his hand. “I fed you a cheeseburger, two ibuprofen, and made you drink two glasses of water before we came up to bed.”

That would explain it. Why do I never think to do that after a night of drinking? Probably because I don’t drink very often. “Thank you.”

“So you don’t remember last night, do you?” His voice is laced with humor. He takes my hand into his and strokes my palm with his fingertips.

“Not all of it,” I admit shamefully.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I remember showing you my double sided tape at the bar.”

He shakes his head and laughs riotously. “Would you like me to fill you in?”

“I think you better.”

Rooter shifts upward a bit and props a second pillow underneath his head. “First, you should know, we did not have sex.”

“We didn’t?” I perk up with relief.

“Of course not.”

I eye him questioningly? What does he mean by that?

“Babe, our first time making love won’t be when you’re trashed.”

He said “making love.” S
woon. “Okay, so why don’t you fill me in on what did happen?”

He rolls on his side to face me. “Do you want a play-by-play from the bar, or just the good stuff?” He chuckles and his eyes light up.

“The good stuff.”

“All right then. After we got home and ate, you told me you had something you wanted to show me and drug me in here,” he points to the end of the bed, “where you proceeded to strip.”

He smiles at the memory. I close my eyes and try to remember, but can’t. Stripping doesn’t sound like me. God, I hope I didn’t make a fool out of myself.

“And this is where it gets interesting,” he continues, “because of the tape. Apparently, it hurts when you try to remove it,” he smirks, “which of course I was more than happy to help you with.”

“Of course you were.” I smile and bite my lip.

“So after getting you out of the dress and carefully removing the tape,” he reaches over and picks up the body chain from his nightstand and dangles it in front of me, “I got my wish.”

My entire body goes up in flames. I hope he liked what he saw. Nervous, I pick at a cuticle and swallow. “Okay, go on.”

He reaches into his jeans and adjusts himself. My eyes follow his hands and I see his growing bulge. “Babe, Let me just say, hottest lap dance ever.”

I clasp my hands over my face. No. I. Didn’t. I had to have been blasted out of my mind to do such a thing. My stomach does a series of somersaults. Maybe I don’t want to hear this after all.

Rooter chuckles and lifts my hands from my face. He pulls down the sheet to reveal my breasts and points at my love bite. “That’s when you told me to put my mouth on you. A request I couldn’t possibly refuse.” He leans down and softly kisses the mark sending sparks throughout my entire body.

“Let’s not get distracted,” I say and turn his head to face me.

“I thought a reenactment might help you to remember.” He winks, sending spasms to my core and props himself back up on the pillows.

As fun as a reenactment sounds, I really want to know what the hell went on last night. “Just tell me. You can show me later.”

He rubs his hands together. “This is when it gets really good.” He circles my love bite with the tip of his index finger. I’m almost afraid to find out what’s next. “You told me you wanted to touch, kiss, lick, and suck every inch of my body and ordered me to get naked.” All the humor is gone from his voice and has been replaced by deep intensity.

Although I can’t believe what I’m hearing, it matches my fantasies perfectly so it must be true. I’ve always said alcohol makes us honest. While we might later regret our words or actions, everything we say and do when we’re drunk reflects our true thoughts and desires.

“I stripped down to my boxer briefs, and that’s when this happened,” he points at the purple spot on his waist. We’re finally getting to the good stuff.

“Go on,” I urge, impatient.

He brushes a lock of hair away from my face and gazes at me affectionately. My heart palpitates, eager to know what happened next.

“I told you I thought we should stop. Save the rest for later. You said you were tired of waiting.” He points at the swelling in his jeans. “You grabbed a hold of my dick and said you hated that other women have touched me and you haven’t. You all but ripped my boxers off,” he chuckles. “Do you want to know what happened after that?” He ever so slightly grazes my arm with the back of his hand.

I turn away and nod, unable to face him. Surely I’m about to learn something super embarrassing.

“Nothing.”

I gasp and look back at him. “What?”

“It was so cute.” He kisses the palm of my hand. “You were staring at my cock with eyes wide as saucers and then you passed out cold.”

“Oh my God,” I groan and roll over and bury my head in my pillow.

“Babe, it’s a good thing you passed out because I honestly don’t know how I would’ve stopped if you’d touched me.”

“I’m
never
drinking again,” I groan into the pillow.

“Hey,” he rubs my shoulder, “look at me.”

I turn my head to face him, but stay on my stomach. His lips are curled up into a reassuring smile. He delicately skims the small of my back with his callused hand.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed. I’m mortified,” I admit.

“Sophie, you have
nothing
to be embarrassed about. Last night was one of the best nights of my life.”

I start to argue the point, but the intense expression he’s wearing conveys that he means what he’s saying. And truthfully, I just want to drop the subject altogether. “I need coffee.”

He smiles, gets up from the bed and holds his hand out for me. I don’t know why after everything that happened last night, but I suddenly become shy. He smiles knowingly and walks to his chest of drawers and retrieves a t-shirt and a pair of his sweat pants and lays them on the bed next to me.

“I’ll put a pot on.”

After pulling on the baggy clothes, I go across the hall to the bathroom. I’m a complete mess. My hair is ratted, my makeup is smudged and there are streaks of black mascara all over my face. I’d brush my hair, but can’t find a brush or comb with which to do it. So I drag my fingers through it to smooth is out as best I can.

I wash my face and without thinking, use Rooter’s toothbrush to brush my teeth. I’ve never used anyone’s toothbrush. I always thought it was disgusting when couples did that. Being with Rooter is changing me in a lot of ways.

Rooter’s house is immaculate. The décor is masculine, but there aren’t any lame posters of motorcycles of half dressed women on the walls like I once imagined there would be. He has typical, but nice, bachelor-esque furniture; black leather sectional, huge flat screen television.

He sits at his dining room table drinking a cup of orange juice. A coffee mug sits in front of the coffee maker for me, along with milk and sugar.

“I don’t have creamer,” he says and points to the milk and sugar. “Will that be okay?”

“It’s perfect,” I smile and pour the coffee into the mug. “Thank you.”

His kitchen and dining room have obviously been renovated. The cabinets and granite counter tops weren’t in style when this house was built. He has brand new, top of the line stainless steel appliances including a gas stove with a surface for grilling.

“I was thinking about making breakfast. Would you like some?”

“That would be great.”

Rooter strolls into the kitchen and kisses the side of my head on his way to the refrigerator.

“I used your toothbrush,” I admit with a shy smile. “I hope that’s okay.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Sure.”

I watch him in awe as he moves around the kitchen shirtless. This man truly is an Adonis. No. He’s so much better. He’s a God, a demon, and an angel in one.

“Can I help with anything?” I ask.

“No. Enjoy your coffee,” he smiles and turns a burner on to fry some bacon.

Dopey comes over and lays at my feet at the dining room table. I sink back into my chair and take a sip of the coffee. The first sip is always the best. The warmth of the liquid is soothing. I’d close my eyes, but I can’t take my eyes off of Rooter. His muscles constrict with every movement he makes. I feel a strong urge to go to him and trace his tattoos with my fingertips. And then I see the purple mark above the waistline of his jeans.
My mouth was on his skin. Right there. I’d like to put it there again.

Rooter chuckles. “Penny for your thoughts?”

My face goes up in flames and I look down at my coffee mug.

A few minutes later, he comes into the dining room with two plates and places one in front of me before taking a seat across from me. I take a bite of the bacon and close my eyes, savoring the flavor. I rarely ever get to have bacon. It’s a luxury I can’t afford.

“This is
so
good,” I mutter. “Thank you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “You’re welcome.”

As I take another bite, I hear a motorcycle fire up. My head snaps toward my driveway.

“Bear stayed with Miranda?” I gasp and turn to Rooter in shock.

“Yep.” He takes a bite of his fried egg.

My mouth hangs open. That’s not like her
at all.

Rooter chuckles. “Apparently we ruthless bikers have rubbed off on both of you.”

“Apparently.” She and I are going to have a very interesting talk when I get home.

“My parents are having a cookout this afternoon,” he says casually. “Mom texted and asked me to come.”

I don’t know why he feels he needs to run it by me. Unless it’s because Candace will be there. Reading my expression he speaks before I can even ask the question.

“Candace won’t be there.”

I sigh with relief. “Good.”

“I’d like for you to come with me.”

My eyes go wide. “To meet your parents?”

He shrugs and takes another bite. “Yeah, why not?”

“Okay.” We eat in silence as thoughts about meeting his parents bombard my mind. I hadn’t thought I’d meet them so soon. “Should I get dressed up?”

He shakes his head. “It’s just a backyard cookout, hamburgers, hot dogs. We’ll ride over on the bike.”

Great, I’ll meet his parents with helmet head. And then I remember, they’re bikers too. Dressing up would be to them the equivalent of helmet head to most others.

“What time?” I ask and push some egg around my plate.

“We need to leave in an hour.”

We pull up to his parent’s house right on time. The quaint log house sits back off the road on a wooded lot. A huge pond wraps around three quarters of it. The garage is open with a screen door leading to the backyard where I hear classic rock playing in the background. Rooter takes my hand and leads me through the garage to the backyard.

A beautiful, exotic looking woman with long dark hair is watering the flowers in a nearby garden. The same woman I’ve seen at his house I the past. A girl who looks a lot like her is laying on a chaise lounge in her bikini. Rooter leads me to the woman whom I assume is his mother. Her eyes light up when she sees the two of us. She meets us halfway and wraps her arms around Rooter.