Jennifer and Rocket (The Princesses of Silicon Valley Book 6) (6 page)

Kissing Rocket is…amazing!

I have no idea how he kisses so well, but I’m not going to analyze it, I’m just going to enjoy.

He makes this form of rural entertainment astounding. With my eyes closed I can’t see any stars, though I don’t mind since I think kissing is more fun. I sit on his lap, my legs straddling his hips. At some point, he leans back, pulling me down with him. Our kissing gets intense as we reach under each other’s clothes and start touching skin.

His fingers are rough from working in his studio. Before tonight, I would have never thought that callused fingers would feel nice, but now I know better. Reaching under his T-shirt I run my hand up over his chest and I feel metal.

As in there’s a metal loop dissecting his nipple.

As in he pierced his nipple! This is shocking.

I pull away with a small shriek.

“What have you pierced?” I exclaim.

Rocket starts laughing. Finally, he says, “I went through a piercing stage. I probably went a little overboard with the piercings.”

“You think?”

“I still like my piercings as much as I still like my tattoos,” he tells me in an amused tone.

“Didn’t it hurt?”

“You pierced your ears. Didn’t that hurt?”

“Only for a minute.”

“Same with all my piercings.”

“I think the only thing you haven’t pierced are your ears,” I blurt out.

“Yeah, I never had any interest in piercing my ears. Rather conventional, wouldn’t you say?” he says with that charming half-smile of his.

Reaching up and touching the loop on the corner of his bottom lip, I ask, “Doesn’t it annoy you having something on your lip. When I cut my lip it drives me crazy.”

With a smile, he runs his finger along my bottom lip. “Yeah, but the piercing is healed. You get used to it. I like it,” he says, then sucks in the loop on his lip.

“Didn’t all the rednecks in Wyoming give you grief about your tattoos and piercings?” I question.

“What kind of people do you think are working there? The Mormons aren’t sending their clean-cut proselytizers up there. Up in the fields, I don’t think I met a guy who didn’t have tats.” With an unreadable expression he questions, “Is this an issue?”

Wow, now that he says it….

I feel embarrassed at having an issue. My old boyfriend Carter had a tattoo, but it was discreet and kind of preppy. Then again, I always thought of myself as open and accepting. Now, I need to rephrase what I consider I’m open and accepting about. Rocket and his tattoos and piercings are nothing I would ever choose in a man. However, I’m here with Rocket now, and at some level I find them enticing.

Stop thinking like that, Jennifer
.

This is not a date; this is not your man. You’re hanging with a friend, a really hot friend, with an amazing body, plenty of nice muscles, and a friend who kisses really, really, well.

I make a quick pact with myself. Enjoy Rocket this weekend—on Monday I’ll go back to normal. That’s when I’ll start looking for the right kind of guy. One who doesn’t have tattoos and pierced nipples—a guy who shaves, styles his hair, and wears clothes that are nicely pressed. But tonight…tonight is for enjoyment.

Lying on top of him, leaning on his chest with my forearms, looking into those dark eyes of his, I quietly tell him, “Your body art is surprising. I couldn’t imagine getting a tattoo or getting any more piercings than I already have. It’s…different.”

Dipping my head down, I softly kiss his lips. As I reach my hand up his shirt I play with the ring. Pulling away from the kiss, I ask my question with a whisper. “Does it make touching more enjoyable?”

He doesn’t answer in words, but he does start kissing me again, which is probably an answer in itself. At some point, he rolls us over so I’m on my back and he’s on top, but he’s being careful not to squish me. After a nice deep kiss, I open my eyes. It’s the first time I’m facing the sky.

I’m so surprised by what I see, I exclaim, “Wow, the stars are really amazing here.”

“Segue much?” he says in a deep and rumbly voice.

“You said you get a great show. This is amazing; I can actually see the haze of the Milky Way. Is that Venus?” I gush, as I point to the brightest star on the horizon. There are so many stars it’s hard to pick out the different constellations.”

Rocket moans, dips his head, then rolls over onto his back and moves me so my head is on his chest. One of his arms is behind his head while the other is wrapped around me.

“You into astronomy?” he asks.

“As a kid I was really into astronomy. I was a big time member of the Hawaiian Astronomic Society and the Hokulani Imaginarium. There was too much light pollution where I lived, but we’d go stargazing in Kahala Community Park. It was totally amazing; amazing like this.”

As I lay on my back, leaning against him while looking up at the sky, I try to identify the different constellations.

Finally I tell Rocket, “I’m not sure about the mainland’s constellations. I’m not sure if you see a different part of the sky than what we see in Hawaii?” Lifting my hand up I point to a rhombus of stars to the east, “I think that’s Lyra and Vega.” Moving my hands to the middle of our field of vision, “that could be Aquia. I would need to pull out Google Sky if I wanted to know for sure.”

My head rumbles from the vibration of his voice as he says, “We’re looking at an amazing sky.”

After staring at the light show for a while, Rocket continues, “Lyra and Vega were associated with the myth of
Orpheus
, the musician who was killed by the Maenads, the female followers of Dionysus. After his death,
Orpheus'
lyre was thrown into the river; Zeus sent an eagle to retrieve the lyre and ordered both of them to be placed in the sky.”

“Greek Mythology?” I question.

“Yeah, as a kid I was really into Greek and Roman Mythology.”

“You must be a fan of Percy Jackson and Jason Grace,” I say.

“Who?”

“A series of children's books based on Greek and Roman Mythology.”

“Yeah, I missed that one.”

We lay there for a few more minutes before Rocket starts talking again, “I think it’s amazing that some of the light we’re seeing now could have been generated thousands, if not millions, or billions, of years ago.”

After another break, he continues, “Looking at the night sky has always been grounding to me. It makes me realize that everything going on in my life is trivial. Sometimes I need to put things in perspective.”

“Your current art is about water. Have you ever used the night sky as inspiration?”

“Not yet, but lying here with you, I find staring at the night sky to be very inspirational.”

I’m not sure if he’s big with the sappy lines or being serious, probably a little of both. After lying on him for a little bit longer, I realize that even wearing Rocket’s coat, I’m getting cold and a little uncomfortable with the way we're laying.

“Are you Okay?”

He adjusts himself so we’re now both sitting up. “Yeah, but I liked having you here.”

Rolling over so I’m now on my knees, I give him a soft kiss on his lips, then say, “Do you think we can head back?”

He groans, stands up quickly, extending his hand to help me stand up. As we start moving down the hill, I hear Hartley’s tags jingling.

“She’s been up here with us the whole time?” I question.

“She’s been leaning with her head on my leg. She’s my shadow, following me wherever I go. That’s how she got her name.”

“Hartley?”

“The Hartleys lived next door to us. They had this kid, ‘Little Hartley’ who was always following me around.”

“The kid's name was Little Hartley?”

“The kid’s name was Jessica. But she was the littlest of all their kids, so I called her ‘Little Hartley.' She was always popping up at my house asking me questions or watching me work on a project. Kind of like this dog, who showed up one day and started following me around.”

“Whatever happened to Little Hartley?”

“I don’t know. She’s now in her 20s. I assume she’s out of college and found a guy of her own to follow around.”

“How old are you?” I blurt out. Oh, Jennifer, can’t you try to be more diplomatic?

“Thirty. And you?”

“Twenty-four”

“Yeah, I figured you were around that age,” he says.

Hoping Jennifer would spend the night, it became obvious she’s not yet ready. Feeling how tentative she is about me, I don’t want to push it. I’m enjoying slowly getting to know her. Anyway, I’m old enough to realize it’s better to wait.

She tells me she’d like to drive up tomorrow to finish up her knife. After dropping her off at her car, I stare at the clock in my truck. It’s only ten thirty. I text my buddy, Kyle, the guy who gave me my tattoos, he and a few friends are hanging at a bar down in Santa Cruz. I’m not interested in going home. I feel restless and want to be around other people. A beer at a bar would work.

The bar definitely caters to an alternative crowd. Kyle’s hair has a blue streak this week; his girlfriend’s a fellow artist. Sophia’s got tattoos, piercings, and her blond hair is all in dreadlocks. Looking around, I can’t see Jennifer with this group. None of the women here would be surprised by pierced nipples. Damn, wait till Jennifer finds out what else I’ve got pierced. It makes me wonder why I find a sweet straight girl like her so compelling.

As I reflect over my beer, I realize that she’s sucking me in. I’d rather hang with my squeaky cheerleader and that smooth virgin skin of hers than hang with any of the women I’ve been meeting.

Kyle interrupts my thoughts, “Dude, Claudia has been asking about you. Are you going to tap that?”

I shake my head.

“You got something else going?”

I shrug my shoulder.

Kyle and I have been friends for a long time. I’m not much for sharing, though I’ve been sharing a lot with Jennifer.

“Yeah, good luck with that. Let’s hope it works out better than Marissa.”

Did he have to bring up Marissa? Anything can be better than that. Looking back, I could kick my dumb twenty-five-year-old ass for getting bullied into marriage. Talk about the little head leading the big head. I vividly remember my wedding day, with my dad telling me, “It’s not too late, son, you might think you can’t back out, but you can.” Three years later, every nagging concern about Marissa came true. Luckily the kid she so desperately wanted us to have never happened.

“Kick my ass if I bring around a girl like Marissa,” I respond.

Pointing his chin at some young funky woman who’s dancing around like she’s high, he says, “She was asking about you, too. You might give her a spin.”

Shaking my head I say, “I’m cool.”

“You must be interested in this new chick.”

Kyle is such a gossiper.

After a beer, I feel ready to go back to my place. A tall brunette who’s standing nearby gives me the eye and sticks out her boobs. I place my bottle on the bar. “Good seeing you, Kyle,” I say, giving him a buddy slap on the back. As I take off, I make sure not to give any eye contact to the brunette. Jennifer’s sweet pretty face has already spoiled me; I’m not looking for a hookup.

***

In the morning, after my coffee, I text Jennifer:
Hope your still up for a visit. I can meet you at the coffee shop.

Busying myself with other things, it doesn’t bother me that it takes a while for her to text back:

Jennifer:
Finished my lesson plan for next week. I’m leaving in a half hour.

After meeting up at the coffee shop, I drive her back to my place, “You up for a hike or would you rather work on your knife?”

With a big smile and a little cheer she says, “Work on the knife.” Then she starts lifting her right arm and grimaces as she says, “I hope we’re done with hammering. My right arm is killing me.”

After working on our knives for a while, we take a break. It’s another blue-sky day as we sit at the picnic table enjoying the fresh coffee cake Jennifer made. Kicking the dirt with the tip of my boot I ask, “Do you want to finish working on the knife?”

Jennifer smiles and comes over and straddles my lap. With a devious smile, she lightly kisses my bottom lip. “I was thinking it would be more fun to do something else.”

Putting my arms around her I kiss her lightly back. “Like what?”

She lightly brushes my face with her fingertips as she leans in and sucks my earlobe whispering, “Oh, I don’t know, I bet we can think of something.”

Shit, does coffee cake make her suddenly turn into a tigress? Moving my hands so I can feel the nice warm skin of her back I reply, “I think I’m getting what you have in mind.” As I start kissing her ear, then down her neck, I listen to her moan, which makes me want her more. After kissing awhile, I say, “Jen, lock your feet around my back.” Kissing her again, I stand with her locked around me as I head into the Winnebago and straight for my bed.

Jennifer squeals as I gently drop her on my bed. Reaching over my shoulder with one hand I grab my shirt and pull it off. Then I land on the bed almost on top of her. Into her ear I whisper, “Jen, you’re wearing way too many clothes,” as I seek the sensation of skin on skin.

She gives me an inscrutable look as she purses her lips. Now I wonder if I’m pushing her too fast.

“How do you pull a shirt off with one hand behind your head?”

Really? That’s what she’s thinking.

Jennifer sits up, grabs her shirt from behind, “I can’t get that to work.”

Reaching over I grab her shirt from the bottom and pull it off. “Yeah, you don’t need to learn that trick.”

As I lean over her, I kiss her again while I unlatch and pull off her bra. My eyes take in her beautiful body. Skin on skin feels so good, and kissing all that nice sweet skin will be even better. As I kiss and suck on her breasts I can feel her wriggle underneath me and moan. Wanting more skin, I start working on her jeans as I feel her kicking off her sneakers.

Reaching down, I quickly pull off her jeans. I get a nice look at her smooth creamy skin and lacy pink underpants. Then I start working on my boots, which are a bitch to get off fast. Jennifer moves to straddling my lap.

“You know I can’t get my boots off if you’re on my lap,” I tell her. She smiles and runs her hands over my chest then sucks in my nipple rings. Man, that feels so good I forget about the boots as I lean back on the bed pulling her on top of me. We kiss deeply again as our hands run all over each other’s body. She has a nice slim figure that smells like lemongrass and tropical fruit. It must be some Hawaiian inspired product she uses. My hands run down her slim waist as I move my fingers over her butt cheeks. Then I pull her underpants down. Now all I have is her smooth warm skin.

Jennifer’s equally active as she starts working on my jeans. I hear her unzip them as my dick springs free. We release our kiss as our eyes connect. She runs her hands down my cock, then her eyes get big and wide, her mouth turns into an O, and she screams and pulls away. Pointing at my dick she gasps, “You pierced that too?”

Talk about a mood killer.

“What were you thinking?” she says in complete shock.

I’m not sure if this is funny or horrifying. “Well, it hurt like fuck when I got it. But once it was in, I wasn’t about to pull it out. It sure makes sex better.”

“Why would you even think of doing it in the first place?”

Scrubbing my face and head with my hands, I wonder how we can get back to where we were. How to answer that question…? How to have this conversation with a totally hot naked women in my bed…?

“I was running with an alternative group in college. We were pushing the edges of everything. This was one more edge to push. At the time, it made sense.”