Rock Chick 08 Revolution (6 page)

Fifteen minutes later, Zach got up
to go to the bathroom.

Thirty seconds after that, I
followed him.

I didn’t have to do the tipsy act
when I hit the men’s room because no one was visible when I walked in. But
there were shoes under a stall, standing sideways so not using the facilities,
just using the stall for privacy to hide a nasty habit.

Loser.

I opened the stall next to Zach’s,
stepped up on the toilet, balanced and looked over the divider.

He had a vial in his hand and a
spoon to his nose.

“Hey, Zach,” I greeted.

He jumped and his vial of cocaine
fell into the toilet.

I swallowed a laugh.

His head snapped back to look up at
me. “Ally, what the fuck?”

I answered his “what the fuck”
with, “Kiss Helen good-bye, you thieving, asshole cokehead.”

Then I stepped off the toilet,
pushed out of the stall and moseyed out of the bathroom, ignoring Zach making
desperate fumbling noises in his stall and calling my name.

I took the back exit.

It was closer, for one. Zach
wouldn’t expect it, for another.

And I wouldn’t have to see Ren as I
walked through the restaurant, for last.

* * * * *

I sat in my Mustang outside Ren’s
place, staring at his door.

His house really was great. It
looked like it could be in The South. It had that kind of grace with a veranda,
big multi-paned windows, a brick paved walkway and lush landscaping. It had a
welcoming settled feel like old houses did. I liked it.

You
look good tonight, honey. Beautiful.

I sighed.

A simple compliment. And highly
effective.

It
works in a big way for me.

My thing worked for Ren.

Well, one could say Ren’s thing
worked for me, too.

Big time.

And he’d apologized for being a
dick. Straight up. I’d been a bitch, stupidly spitting in the eye of the tiger
by making an idiot remark about his drink after he’d approached to apologize.
Then he didn’t push the drink issue and apologized.

Class.

I
got pissed you took off when I wanted more.

He wanted more.

Well, one could also say I wanted
more, too. Hell, my Lelo Lily was constantly on her charger, she was used so much,
me on my back in my bed, my Lelo between my legs, Ren in my head.

Fuck.

It was going on summer so the days
were longer, but it was full-on dark so it was really late.

Still, I threw open my door, folded
out of my car and clicked on my high-heeled sandals across the street (I hadn’t
changed, for a reason that would hopefully work for me), up Ren’s brick paved
front walk and to his ash green front door.

He had a doorbell so I didn’t
pound. And anyway, I wasn’t pissed. I just rang the bell, and seeing as I could
see light filtering around the drapes to my left, I figured he was up.

Ren didn’t strike me as early to
bed, early to rise.

He wasn’t.

The door opened and there he stood
wearing the trousers from his suit (dark blue with a hint of a shine, perfect freaking
fit) and his tailored shirt (blue, gray and black stripes on white, open at the
collar, rolled back at the cuffs; hot).

“Ally,” he greeted, staring down at
me, and strike that on the list of one of the many things that did it for me
with Ren.

He was up a step, but I was in four
inch heels. Being five nine that put me at
tall.
Still, he was way taller than me. So much taller, no matter what shoe apparel I
was wearing, if he wanted to take my mouth, he’d have to work for it.

The thought made my inner thighs
quiver.

Time to do what I came there to do.

“Zano, I know it’s late, but I was
out and I thought I’d come by to say it was totally cool what you—”

I spoke not another word since his
arm flashed out, hooked me at the waist and I was flying through the air. I
landed full-frontal against his body and a quarter of a second later his mouth
landed on mine.

He dragged me in as I opened my
lips and his tongue thrust inside.

He kicked the door closed behind
me.

We made it to the bed this time before
I had my first orgasm.

But when I had it, we were both
still fully clothed.

The next three, he gave me naked.

* * * * *

The
next morning…

I woke up naked and mostly sprawled
on Ren.

There was a heavenly throb between
my legs that suggested strongly that the first time with Ren was not a fluke.

He really did
totally
know what he was doing.

“You awake, babe?”

I lifted my head from where it lay
on his chest and looked at him.

God.

That hair, his face, his corded
neck, the column of his throat, all sleepy or tousled and resting against a
backdrop of wine colored sheets that I knew, because I could feel, were the
softest sheets in history—definitely what dreams were made of.

“Hey,” I said as my good morning.

His lips quirked. “Hey.”

Yeah. A rough, drowsy, deep voice
with all the rest.

Dream material.

Ren kept talking.

“Just in case you didn’t get my
message last night, pretty fuckin’ pleased you came by to accept my apology.”

I felt my lips tip up.

His eyes watched.

I felt my happy place pulse.

His eyes moved to mine; my happy
place must have communicated its happiness on my face because his face got
dark. His arm, already around me, tightened, and he dragged me up his chest,
even as he rolled. His body pinned mine to the bed as his lips covered mine for
a deep, wet morning kiss that was so damned good, it made my happy place pound.

Ren then pressed a knee between my
legs. I opened them in invitation, and for my graciousness, I got a hard
muscled thigh pressed tight against my happy place.

I moaned down his throat.

He pushed his hips against my thigh
and groaned down mine.

His happy place was happy, too.

I decided I needed to do something
about making it happier.

So I did.

As did he.

* * * * *

Thirty minutes later, we were both still
breathing a little heavily. Ren’s face was in my neck. He was buried deep
inside me. Our skin was misted with damp. The fingers of one of my hands were
in his hair. My other arm was curved tight around his back, and both my legs
were wrapped around his thighs.

After a late night that included
lots of mind-blowing sex, I had just discovered he was also good in the
morning.

Why did I not find this surprising?

He lifted his head and his warm,
sexy eyes caught mine. This had the result of making me catch my breath.

“You want me to make you
breakfast?” he asked.

Jeez.

Seriously?

This guy could also cook?

I tested the waters.

“Are we talking instant oatmeal or
eggs benedict?”

That got another lip quirk before
he answered, “I was thinking croissants, eggs whatever way you want ‘em, fresh
strawberries, bacon and tater tots.”

Did he say tater tots?

For breakfast?

“Did you say tater tots?” I asked
in order to confirm.

“Baby.” His hips pressed into mine.
I bit my lip at how good that felt and his face dipped close. “Tater tots rock
breakfast.”

Ren Zano ate tater tots for
breakfast and served them up to his fuck buddies.

He
was
a dream.

“I’m totally down for breakfast,” I
answered.

At that he smiled and my world
ended.

Again.

Because I wanted that smile every
morning right after mind-blowing sex and right before my tater tots.

And I wanted it for a lifetime.

Don’t ask me how I knew this, I
just did. Deep down, I knew it. Right to the very heart of me.

But I didn’t let on.

Again.

* * * * *

Forty-five
minutes later…

“You’re right. Tater tots rock
breakfast,” I said to Ren, incidentally saying it around a mouth full of
ketchup-covered tater tots.

He grinned at me.

I returned the favor (closed
mouthed, because food grins were gross) and looked down to my plate of food.

We were standing in his kitchen. Or
he was. He’d cooked for me while I made coffee and then watched him cook. His
scrambled eggs were fluffy, cheesy and delicious. His bacon was crisped to
perfection. His croissants were bought fresh from a local bakery and they were
buttery and amazing.

But when he offered me my filled
plate and told me to take it to the dining room, I hefted my ass up on the
counter and commenced eating.

This might have been rude, but I
didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. I accepted his apology. I
accepted his body. I gave him mine. That was as far as this was going to go.

You might think I was crazy, but a
man doesn’t fight over a woman, take her back, carry her from a crashed car
that would eventually explode (told you the Rock Chicks were magnets for
trouble—when I said trouble, I meant
trouble
),
and speak her name in his sleep with another woman in his bed and not be hung
up on her.

This was fact.

So I wasn’t going to set myself up
for that kind of heartbreak. I wasn’t like Ava, blonde with lots of tits and
ass. Okay, so I had some ass, but not lots of it. And I was a girl so I had
tits, just not the kind of rack Ava had. I was also a brunette.

I wasn’t his type.

I was just available.

And I’d continue to be available,
especially if fantastic sex came with breakfast that included tater tots.

But I was drawing that line. No
doing budding couple stuff like sitting at the dining room table, eating
breakfast and sharing after a night of great sex.

No, it was going to be snarfing
down your delicious fluffy eggs and tater tots in an I’m-a-girl-on-the-go kind
of way, then being the girl on the go by
going
.
Then, if the spirit moved him or me, coming back for more.

The weird part of me making this
non-verbal statement was that Ren didn’t push it. Instead, he watched me hop up
on his counter. His eyes flashed with humor even as his lips quirked with it,
and he settled his hips against the counter kitty corner from me.

But he kept his eyes on my ass on
his counter in a way that told me he was currently—and would later—be thinking
about my ass on his counter in a good way. This made me think about other ways
my ass could be on his counter, and these were good, too.

My happy place, sated and content,
started getting happy again.

I didn’t need to get happy again. I
wanted
to get happy, but I didn’t
need it.

I needed to get to Fortnum’s, hang
with my friends and be in my normal. That was to say, see if one of Lee’s other
guys decided to wade into the troubled life of some sick gorgeous woman who had
people wanting to kidnap her, stab her or steal her money, and wade into that.

I also needed to make some money. I
might not be girlie, as it were, but I liked my rock concerts and LBDs, and
neither of those came cheap.

Therefore, I declared, “Glad we did
this, Zano. It’s good we didn’t leave it as it was. Where this is at right now
is much better. But after I help you with the dishes, I gotta bounce. I have to
get to work.”

As I spoke, his gaze went from my
ass to my eyes, and when I was done talking, he announced, “I’d like to take
you to dinner tonight.”

Shit.

I’d like that too, but that wasn’t
going to happen.

I shoved the last tater tot in my
mouth, jumped off the counter and turned to the sink. I rinsed my plate, put it
in the sink and turned to him.

Leaning a hip against the counter,
I caught his eyes and gentled my voice when I told him, “Listen, this is good
and I like it. But I just got out of a somewhat long-term relationship and I
gotta sort my shit before I move on from that.”

This wasn’t exactly a lie. Carl and
I were close. I missed him. I wasn’t pining for him; I knew I’d made the right
decision. But it wasn’t like we ended things six months ago. Our break was
recent.

But it wasn’t just that.

I went on.

“And you’ve got the Ava thing.”

Now that was definitely not a lie.

His head cocked to the side, his
eyes went guarded, and he asked, “The Ava thing?”

I wasn’t going to go there, but
also, I didn’t want to take him there. Things were settled with Luke and Ava.
They were all kinds of happy. Ren probably knew that and I shouldn’t remind him
of it. In fact, I shouldn’t have said anything.

I moved us around that. “What I’m
saying is, if you’re cool with it, I’m cool with this being casual.” I smiled
at him. “In fact, I’d be way cool with that.”

He studied me a moment before he
moved into me, getting close. He leaned around me to put his plate in the sink,
straightened, caught my eyes again and stayed close.

He was talking as gently as I did
when he replied, “Had women say that to me, honey, but they didn’t mean it.”

“I’m not like other women.”

His gaze moved over my face before
locking on my lips and he murmured, “I’m sensing that.”

I didn’t know if that was good or
bad, but I was taking it as good by the heat in his eyes.

“So if we continue to hook up, I’m
down with casual. Yeah?” I pressed so I could get away from the heat of his
eyes. And also, the heat of his body. Both were doing good things to my happy
place, which would mean I might not get my take of the tip jar at Fortnum’s because,
if I jumped him, I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to come up for air.

As answer, he said quietly, “I like
you.”

Oh fuck.

There it was. My happy place got
happy. My stomach dipped. But my heart squeezed.