Rock Me All Night (4 page)

“Yeah, thanks for stopping it.”

She didn't sound that grateful. In fact, she
sounded mad. He realized the way she was holding her body wasn't for warmth but for some sort of comfort.

He'd never freaking understand women. “I was being a gentleman.”

She lifted both eyebrows at him. “And I said thanks.”

“Lauren?” He grabbed onto his temper with both hands. He was still violently aroused and wanted nothing more than to say the hell with this behavior that was foreign to him. Did she want a red-hot affair that lasted no more than a week? “In order to find Prince Charming you have to actually recognize him when he rides up to the castle—and then you have to let him in.”

She bit her lower lip, which was still red and swollen from his kisses. “Are you saying maybe I deserved to kiss those toads?”

He wished at least one of them were a little confident here. At least one of them knew where they were going, had some experience in this out-of-control feeling. Was this what his dad had experienced each time he'd launched his motorcycle into the air? If so, Jack wondered how he'd gotten used to it.

Lauren was staring at him and he realized he hadn't responded to her. “No. I'm saying that maybe you've forgotten what to do when Mr. Right rides up.”

“And you're Mr. Right?”

“I'm not Mr. Wrong,” he said. He knew that with a surety that came from deep inside him. He might not like what she made him feel, but no way was he going to ease out of her life.

He put the car back in gear and pulled back onto the road. They arrived at the parking lot and Lauren had her seat belt off and her hand on the door before he even shut the car off. He grabbed her arm to stop her from leaping out of the vehicle.

“What's the hurry?” he asked.

“No hurry. I just…I need to get home.”

“I'm sorry, Lauren,” he said. And meant it. He had the feeling that he'd hurt her and had no idea how.

“Don't be. You were definitely a gentleman and I enjoyed our coffee and conversation.”

“But?”

She shrugged. “You were right. I do have barriers that I keep between myself and the rest of the world. And I'm not sure I can let you inside.”

“This is new to me, too. Normally I'd have taken you home with me.”

“Why didn't you?”

“Because you're different than every other woman and…”

“And?” she asked.

She seemed poised on the edge of running, and he knew he didn't have the words to make her stay.

“And that scares me.”

She smiled then and he knew he'd blundered into
the right thing to say. And hoped he could keep on doing it, because being with Lauren was like riding ninety miles an hour down a twisting mountain road on his motorcycle.

T
he peal of the doorbell pulled her from an erotic dream. At first she didn't want to leave the bed. Tried to cling to the images in her head and the feeling of Jack's strong body over hers. But the ringing was insistent and her dream lover faded away.

She pushed to her feet, grabbing her tattered quilted robe and shrugging into it. The robe had been a gift from her maternal grandmother, Grandma Jean, when she'd graduated from college. Since Grandma Jean had died six months later, the robe was now Lauren's way of experiencing a hug from her grandmother.

The doorbell rang again and she hurried to answer it. She checked the security peephole. A delivery
man, but not her usual guy. Her mother was constantly sending books, videos and homemade cookies via FedEx to her.

For some reason, even though she was thirty, her mom insisted on treating her as if she were twelve.

“Miss Belchoir?”

“Yes,” she said.

“These are for you.”

He handed her a flower bouquet in a heavy vase. Lauren stared at him for a minute, not really sure what to say. Who had sent her flowers?

He turned to go.

“Wait. Let me get you—”

“Everything's been taken care of. Have a nice day.”

Lauren eased back inside her house and shut the door with her foot. The bouquet wasn't something as common as roses or gerbera daisies. It was orchids and stargazer lilies and…damn, a bunch of blooms that she didn't know the name of.

She took the cut-glass vase into her kitchen and set it on the table. The card was there, in an envelope with her name on the outside. There was a computer printout on the back of the envelope, but her first name had been handwritten in a strong masculine scrawl.

She told herself she was wrong, that Jack wouldn't have sent her flowers. By even entertaining the thought, she was setting herself up for disappointment. She opened the tab of the envelope with her fingernail and pulled that card out.

Thanks for last night. Will you have dinner with me?

Jack

She dropped the card and leaned forward on the table, resting her head on her folded arms. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to go out with a man who made her feel…too many things? A man who was mercurial and changed with the wind?

She stood up and grabbed the phone before she realized she didn't have his number. Instead she dialed the station and asked for Ty.

“Montrose,” Ty said, answering on the first ring. She could tell he was in a good mood because there was laughter in his voice. But then, Ty seldom took anything, even the failing ratings of the station, too seriously.

“Ty, it's Lauren.”

“Hey, what's up? Are you calling in sick?”

“What? No. I, uh, I need a phone number.”

“Call the operator,” he said with a laugh in his voice.

She'd always felt as if Ty was not only her boss but her friend. Since both of them had deplorable taste in the opposite sex, they had commiserated a time or two over margaritas about their pathetic ex-mates. What would he think when she asked about his brother? “I need Jack's number.”

“He didn't give it to you?”

Maybe this hadn't been a good idea. “Are you trying to get on my bad side?”

“Hell, no.” Ty rattled off his brother's numbers—home, office and cell phone.

“Did you give him mine?” she asked. Her address was unlisted because she'd had a problem with a stalker a few years ago.

“No. But he did call and ask me to have Pat give your address to the florist down the street.”

She didn't know how she felt about that. It was the kind of thing she'd come to expect from Ty, her friend. “Should you have given me his number?”

He gave a big laugh. “I think my big brother can protect himself against you.”

“Yeah, I think so,” she said. “Thanks.”

She disconnected the call with Ty and dialed Jack's office number before she could change her mind. While the phone rang she tried to think of what she'd say to the secretary or receptionist who answered.

“Montrose,” Jack said. His voice was deep and dark—everything she remembered it being.

“Hello,” she said. Her thoughts scattered. She'd been hoping for a few additional seconds to gather her wits while she was connected to him.

“Lauren. How are you?” he asked.

“Fine. Thanks for the flowers.” With that kind of fast thinking it was hard to believe she made her living talking. She took a few deep breaths. She needed to calm down. He was just a guy. Just a guy.

“You're welcome. I told them late-afternoon delivery. Did they wake you up?”

“Yes, but it was time for me to get out of bed.”

“Damn. Now I've got an image in my head of you all soft and cozy straight from bed.”

“What kind of image is it?”

“The kind that a PC girl like you doesn't want to hear about.”

“Rated R?”

“Only if I tone it down,” he said.

Lauren laughed. She liked him. Liked his honesty about how he reacted to her and liked how he made her feel when she spoke to him. He was so much more than just a guy, she thought. She'd realized that from the moment he'd shown up after her show.

“About dinner,” she said.

“If I apologize, will you say yes?”

“I was calling to accept. Don't apologize. I like your fantasies.”

“You don't even know what they are,” he said.

“I know they involve you and me.”

“That's right. They do.”

“Then that's all I need to know,” she said quietly.

“How do you feel about the outdoors?” he asked.

“Um…I'm kind of a shopping-mall and coffee-bar girl.”

“This will be painless and lots of fun.”

“If it isn't you'll owe me one.”

“One what?”

“Whatever I want, and it might be some sort of metrosexual spa date.”

“Deal,” he said.

“Are you that confident?” she asked.

“Hell, yeah!”

“When are we getting together—before or after my show?”

“After. I'll come by your place and take you to work so you don't have to worry about your car.”

“Isn't that presumptuous?”

“No. I always pick my dates up and take them home whenever they're ready to leave,” he said quietly.

She gave him her address and hung up the phone, aware that she'd started something with Jack that she was going to finish—no matter what it cost her emotionally.

 

Jack sat alone in his car once again, listening to Lauren. This was her last night on the midnight shift and her listeners were saying goodbye. It was a sweet evening that made him care about her even more. She really touched the lives of her listeners every day. And they were going to miss her.

Jack felt a pang of envy. He'd worked with a number of people over the years but never made the kind of connection that Lauren had with her listeners.

He'd learned a lot listening to her during the last four days. She seemed open and vulnerable and very intimate. He wanted that intimacy.

He heard her signature sign-off song, Stevie Ray Vaughan's “Shake for Me,” and left the car. There
was a lot of moisture in the air, and he knew snow was on the way.

It was cold outside, but Jack was hot enough to give off steam. And that had little to do with the heat from his car and cashmere coat. Lauren had whipped him into a frenzy. Every night while he listened to her in the dark he felt the tension growing. Felt the need—no, the craving—for her growing.

Felt his body desperately hungering for something he'd never wanted before—complete possession of a woman. Not just any woman either. Lauren Belchoir was the only one who would do.

Five minutes later Lauren walked out of the building and stopped. Her thick hair hung in soft waves past her shoulders, and he could tell from the way it was mussed that she'd been playing with it. He noticed her lips were shiny and glossy. She'd taken the time to primp before she'd come outside to meet him.

That got him in the gut. No matter that they both were not sure what was going on here. They both needed it. Both wanted it.

She stared directly up at him, and he felt a tightening in his gut that warned this was more than seduction. That hinted that maybe this woman might be more than a six-month cycle in a life made up of them. That promised a warmth Jack had never experienced yet always longed to.

“Hi,” she said, her voice soft and sexy. Just for
his ears alone, no filter of the radio to blunt the appeal of it.

“Hey,” he said, moving toward her because he couldn't help himself.

He wanted to feel her shoulders under his hands. Her body pulled flush to his and her mouth under his own. He wanted to plunder and leave no doubt in either of their minds who was in control here.

Because in his gut he knew he wasn't.

He pulled her closer to him until they were full-body chest to breast, groin to groin and breath mingling with breath. And only then did something inside him release. He hadn't realized how empty his arms had been without her until this moment.

She tipped her head to the side, staring up at him with those wide, honest eyes. “I guess you're happy to see me?”

“Hell, don't play innocent with me. You've been seducing me all night long with your bedroom voice and those songs that are made for hot sex.” His body was rapidly hardening now that he had her in his arms. She rocked against his hard-on and he nearly moaned.

It would be so easy to make this all about sex. And he wanted it to only be about sex. But when she looked up at him, her eyes searching for something in his gaze, he knew that it was more. She was soft and feminine despite her independence and sassy attitude.

He started to drop his hands and move away but
she canted her hips toward him. Slid her hands around his neck and rose up on her tiptoes. “They were all requests.”

He bent his head, rubbed his lips over hers. Tasted the spices of the tea blend she must have been drinking.

“I have a request.”

She nipped at his bottom lip and then plunged her tongue into his mouth. He moved his hands into her hair, holding her head, tipping it back so that he was in control. He met her tongue with his, sliding it deep into the back of her mouth so that he could taste all of her. Know all of her. And conquer…all of her.

Despite the fact that he'd limited her range of motion, she didn't back down. She scraped her fingernail along the lower edge of his ear and then under the collar of his shirt.

She twisted her head to the side, running her tongue along the length of his jaw. “What was your request?”

“Your mouth on mine.”

“Granted,” she said with that half smile of hers.

Then she sank closer to him. Wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on the crook of his shoulder. “Thanks for picking me up.”

He hugged her back, knowing it was cold and late and he was starting something that he really had no business starting with this woman at this time. She still believed in happily ever after. She still wanted
some kind of girlish forever love, and he'd never believed in it.

All his life he'd seen lovers leaving, first in his parents' marriage and then in his own relationships. He'd never seen something that could last. Something that was good. Something that he freaking wanted as much as he wanted Lauren. And he wanted to keep her tucked up against him, her warm exhalations at the base of his throat and her curvy body pressed against his.

“Let's go. I think it's time I fulfilled some requests for you.”

“Promise?”

The hint of vulnerability. The hesitation in her sweet voice made him pause. “Don't expect too much. I'm still wearing a toad's skin and I—”

She placed her fingers over his lips. “Just trying is enough for me. Where's your car?”

He led her to a bright yellow Hummer H2. Using the remote keyless entry he unlocked the doors. “This is mine. I picked it up this morning.”

“Why?”

“I was tired of the Jag.”

“Wasn't it new?” she asked.

He didn't understand why she was questioning him. Maybe she didn't like Hummers. But he needed something big and capable of off-roading. He had felt the need for a new vehicle. “Yeah, so?”

“Nothing,” she said and climbed into the vehicle.

But he knew something had changed and he didn't know how to fix it.

 

Lauren loved the way Jack drove. It was a simple thing, but he maneuvered the car with an ease that made her realize he was always in control. “Did your dad teach you to drive?”

“Yeah. Do I make you nervous?”

“Absolutely not. You're a very good driver.”

He said nothing until he braked at a stoplight. “My dad wasn't around a lot, but he did give me one piece of advice about driving.”

“Is it something that only a Montrose can know? A Diamond Dave secret that's passed from one daredevil to the next?”

“Ha. I'm not an edge-of-the-seat crazy stuntman.”

“I didn't think your dad was crazy. We went to see him twice when I was a kid. I almost stopped breathing when he made his motorcycle flip over.”

Jack chuckled. The light changed and he started driving again with the same speed and skill, and she realized he hadn't really answered her question. Maybe he wasn't comfortable being the son of a celebrity.

God knew she hated being tracked down and questioned by her mom's rabid fans. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“How did you do that?” he asked, taking one hand from the wheel and putting it on her leg. His warmth burned through the fabric of her jeans. It was hot and
heavy and made her aware—achingly aware—of how close his touch was to her center.

Suddenly she felt as if she should cross her legs. But doing so would announce her nervousness at his touch. Her thoughts were scattered and she didn't know if she could get them marshaled. What had they been talking about?