Rock Chick Renegade
Page 32

I walked into the bathroom with my pile. They’d even picked out my underwear and on top was a new bottle of perfume that Roxie stopped by the mall and bought me on the way over.
I bought some sexy underwear as a side obsession to my sexy nightwear since they sold the stuff in the same department. I didn’t have much but they’d found the sexiest, a pair of black, lacy, Brazilian-cut panties and matching demi-cupped bra. Over this I put on a pair of Roxie’s black slacks which looked normal until they were on. They rode way low, even lower than my cords and jeans, exposing the small of my back in a serious way when I bent even slightly. They had a straight front and wide leg. On top of this they gave me Indy’s plain black t-shirt. Again, it looked normal until I put it on. It was stretchy with a hint of spandex and fit like a glove. It came down over the waistband of the trousers but again if I sat the trousers went down, the shirt rode up and the small of my back was exposed.
“Shit,” I whispered, the butterflies exploding and I sat on the toilet seat to put on the high-heeled shoes which had a half an inch platform sole, peek-a-boo toe and ankle strap.
I spritzed with the cologne and put on Roxie’s jewelry, a wide silver cuff bracelet and some wide silver hooped earrings.
Then I looked in the full-length mirror on the back of my bathroom door.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
I looked like a girl. My hair was in curls, not masses of them but subtle and pretty. My eyes were done up smoky and, even I had to admit, sexy. And the outfit was simple but kick-fucking-ass.
Especially the shoes (which were Tod’s).
I took a deep breath, opened the door and walked down the hall. The place was cleaned up and tidy. All paraphernalia had already been loaded in cars and there was not a margarita glass in sight.
Everyone looked at me when I walked in and they stared.
Then they smiled.
And I felt for the first time all day that maybe I could pull this off.
“Told you she didn’t need sparkle,” Indy said to Daisy.
“Sugar, you got that right,” Daisy replied.
“Hon,” May said, smiling at me, “don’t you worry about gettin’ laid. Trust me. You got nothin’ to worry about.”
* * * * *
Ten minutes later everyone was gone, giving out hugs, air kisses and well wishes for a successful cherry popping as they went.
Before she left May hugged me tight and looked me deep in the eye and whispered, “Nothin’ to worry about.”
Even with May’s encouragement I’d just sucked down a shot of tequila, winced as it hit my throat and decided, again, that there was no way I was going to pull this off.
I shoved the tequila bottle to the back of the counter behind the margarita glasses that someone had washed and were resting upside down on a kitchen towel. I put the shot glass in the sink and was wondering if they had any redeye flights from Denver International Airport to Nicaragua when my backdoor opened and Vance walked in.
I stared at him. He stared at me.
I was pretty certain I was looking at him like a deer caught in headlights.
He wasn’t looking at me that way. He was looking at me in an entirely different way. A way that made the butterflies come back, this time the good ones seemed to be at war with the bad ones and it was up in the air which ones would win.
He hadn’t changed clothes which was one for the side of the bad butterflies. I worried that I looked like I was trying too hard.
Finally I said, “Both doors were locked, how did you get in?”
He started walking toward me but didn’t answer.
I was right by the counter. I backed up a step and my h*ps ran into it.
“You don’t have to break in, you know. You could knock on the front door like a normal person,” I told him as he arrived at me.
I thought he’d stop but he didn’t, not until he got into my space, way into my space. So into my space I could feel the heat from his body and he leaned into me, putting his hands on the counter on either side of me.
I leaned back and tilted my head to look up at him. “Hello? Crowe? Are you in the room?”
“Shut up,” he said and I blinked then my eyes narrowed.
“What did you just say?”
Then his head dropped, his mouth hit mine and he kissed me. He didn’t touch me, not with his body or his hands though I was acutely aware of the position of both.
No, he touched me only with his mouth and kept me locked to him there using his macho man tractor beam in cahoots with his talented tongue and the good butterflies got an advantage.
His head moved away an inch and he murmured, “Tequila.”
Fuck.
Sucking face with a recovering alcoholic after a shot of some serious spirits was probably not a good thing.
“Crowe –” I said.
His head dropped again and he ran his tongue across my lower lip.
I stopped breathing.
“I like it,” he said low and he moved back a fraction and looked at my body then up to my eyes. “I like all of it.” Then he came in close again and his face did the same. “You look good, you taste good.” His mouth came closer and his eyes stared into mine. “I bet other places taste even better.”
Oh my God.
The good butterflies started to beat the shit out of the bad butterflies.
I pulled back a bit. “I’m sorry about the tequila. I had some friends over…” I partially lied, not about to impart the information on him that I needed liquid courage for our date.
“Jules, people drink. I don’t. Don’t worry about it,” he said like he wasn’t worried about it at all.
“Okay,” I replied softly.
Then he did something strange. His hand lifted and he ran his fingers through my hair at the side of my head all the way down the back. Then he pulled some over my shoulder and started to play with it, twisting one of Indy’s curls around his fingers just above my breast all the while he watched his hand as if his mind was somewhere else.
It felt nice. It sent tingles along my scalp and skin, sexy tingles but something else too, something warmer, sweeter.
“Vance?”
His eyes came to mine and I realized his mind was not somewhere else.
I swallowed.
Then I asked, “Are we going out or what?”
He grinned, his fingers still playing with my hair and I could feel the heat from his hand on my chest.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Shouldn’t we, like, go?” I went on.
He kept grinning. “Yeah,” he repeated.
I waited. He didn’t move.