Rock's Redemption(Insurgents MC Romance Book 8)(24)

"I'll stick with this one." She went into the bathroom to change as he  went over to his CD collection, pulling one out and placing it in the  player. When she came out, his gaze traveled over her, taking in every  bit of her. She shifted from one foot to the next. "It's too big and too  short, but it's comfy."

The T-shirt fell over her ample breasts and came down mid-thigh on her,  and she looked delicious wrapped in black with just enough to cover her  to make his imagination go into overdrive. "It looks fine. Here." He  handed her a glass of brandy and turned on the CD.

She sat on the bed cross-legged, her hair spilling over her shoulders as  she took a sip. "Mmm …  good." Then she leaned back against the headboard  and closed her eyes as the melodic strains of fiddles and accordion  filled the room. When the first lyrics of the song sang out, her eyes  flew open. "Huval Family. My favorite Cajun band. You remembered." Her  grin lit up her whole face.

He wanted to scoop her up, cover her in slow passionate kisses, and  savor every fucking inch of her body before he made love to her. "I  remembered. How could I forget? Each time I saw you at the Lafayette  Crawfish Festival, you'd always be hanging around the stage when they  played. You were nothing but a groupie."

She giggled. "I was." She faced him, her green gaze shimmering. "It's  been such a long time since I've heard Cajun or Zydeco music. Merci."

He lifted his glass and tipped it to her. "You're welcome." He watched  how she fell into the music, her body swaying with the beats, each  movement pulling him in more. He stood up and walked over to her, his  hand extended. "Let's dance, chérie."

Uncertainty shadowed her face, but then she placed her hand in his and  he drew her to him. Soon they were twirling around his room to the  rhythm and quick fiddle action. Turning too sharply, they tripped and  landed on the bed, laughing and breathless. Rock hovered over her, and  when her pink tongue touched her top lip he took hungry possession of  her mouth, devouring it with deep sweeping strokes of his tongue. He  wanted to consume her whole.                       
       
           



       

As he kissed her, he breathed in each of her tiny moans and whimpers.  She hooked her arm around his neck, bringing him even closer to her.  When he pulled away to nuzzle her neck, a soft moan escaped from her  throat and he felt his cock swell in his jeans. He tugged down the  too-large T-shirt, revealing her shoulder, and peppered kisses over it  while he breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with her, intoxicated on  the scent.

"Clotille, ma chérie," he whispered as her hot skin trembled beneath his  hands. She whimpered and arched her back, pressing closer to him, her  hard nipples pushing against the fabric of the T-shirt. "Fuck," he  gritted as he pulled back to look at her. Her lips were red and swollen  from kissing and lust misted her eyes. His gaze journeyed over her  curves, his hands following its path. When he slid his hand under her  shirt, she gently moved it away. Their gazes locked on each other, their  breaths ragged. "Why're you stopping me? I know you want this as much  as I do."

"I don't know what I want," she said softly.

"The fuck you don't." He straightened up. "You've always known exactly what you wanted, and you made sure you got it."

"Not really. You thought that about me because my father was rich and it  seemed like everything was wonderful for me … . It wasn't." She brushed  her hand against his. "Roche, please don't be angry. I just think it's  too soon. I do want you, but I've been in a fucked up situation for the  past four years. I can't just switch things on and off that easily.  Can't we give it some time and get to know each other again? If we jump  in too fast, it would just confuse everything"

"For the last fuckin' time, my name is Rock. And nothing would be  confused. It'd just be two old friends fucking." He stood up and turned  off the music.

"Is that what we were? Friends."

"Yeah, babe. Nothing more." He sat at the edge of the bed and pulled his boots on.

"Where're you going?"

"Downstairs where everybody knows the score." He opened the door and  walked out, anger pricking at his body. Now she can wonder if I'm gonna  fuck Wendy. Just like I wondered if she was fucking Luc when my ass was  in the pen and I didn't hear from her. Fuck this shit!

By the time he came back to his room, she was already asleep, her soft  breaths filling his ears. He stripped down to his boxers before lying  down on the makeshift bed on the floor. He hadn't fucked Wendy or any  other woman downstairs. How could he? He had Clotille on his mind. I  gotta stop this shit before anything happens. I got plenty of pussy to  get lost in. I don't fuckin' need her. But the tent he was pitching in  his boxers said otherwise, and he cursed under his breath.

He knew sleep would elude him that night, but somehow it didn't matter.  All that mattered was she was with him for the moment, and he knew that  was all he could really count on from her.





Chapter Ten





Clotille's eyes snapped open. Streaks of sunlight filtered through the  blinds. Oh God! I've overslept. Frederick is going to be so angry with  me. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room, realization of where  she was dawning on her. There was no Frederick anymore, and she could  do whatever the hell she wanted. All of a sudden, she felt ultra-awake,  adrenaline rejuvenating her. I'm in Roche's room. Smiling, she inched  her way over to the edge of the bed and looked down, expecting to see  him. He wasn't there. She glanced around and noticed his pillow, sheet,  and blankets were stacked neatly on one of the chairs by the window.

She wasn't sure he'd even been there the previous night. He'd been so  angry and she couldn't blame him. She'd wanted to make love to him, but  she couldn't. She knew if she spent the night with him, she'd never be  able to leave him. She'd given up so much since he'd gone away to  prison. And he kept telling her they were friends. I definitely don't  want Roche as a fuck buddy. It seemed like he wanted to have fun and  keep her at bay at the same time. She needed time to think and figure  out how she was going to right all the wrongs that littered her past.

Pangs of jealousy stabbed her as she thought of Wendy pleasuring him.  She could hardly expect him to stay celibate just because she was  staying in his room. He was such a gorgeous man, so of course women  wanted to be with him. She had no right to be mad at them; she was only  the visiting friend, after all. But the way he'd kissed her had taken  her breath away. I'm going to have to be careful that I don't lose  control. I want him so bad, but she couldn't risk both their hearts  again.                       
       
           



       

She held her head between her hands. She'd had too much to drink, but it  had been a good night: listening to music, sipping brandy, and  reminiscing about crawfish boils, sneaking out at night, and so many  other things. It'd felt good to talk to him about home, and she'd made  sure to steer their conversation away from anything negative. Then he'd  asked her to dance and she loved being in his arms. It'd been perfect  until the kiss and her rejection of him. If only he knew how badly she  wanted and needed him. He'd been in her mind and between her legs ever  since the first night she'd recognized him in Frederick's house.  Frederick. What the fuck am I going to do about him? I know he'll be  spiteful. I have to get back to Lafayette and smooth everything over. I  have to make sure my-

A thunderous rumble shook the glass panes, and she scrambled out of bed  and ran over to the window. Several motorcycles roared into the parking  lot. The men all wore black leather and the sun bounced off the chrome,  creating beacons of white light. When the men turned off their engines,  stillness crept back in. She watched as the men dismounted and walked  into the building. She tried to see if she could spot Rock, but he was  not among the group of bikers.

Walking back to the bed, she saw her phone sitting on the nightstand.  With trepidation, she turned it on, a series of beeps assaulting her  ears.

She had numerous calls and texts from Frederick, one or the other coming  through every fifteen minutes practically the whole night. Guilt washed  over her as her chest tightened. She knew Frederick was probably beside  himself with worry, and he didn't deserve to be treated like that.  After all, he'd helped her so much; an explanation from her was merited.  It wasn't his fault that she couldn't fulfill the agreement, that Rock  had reentered her life. Fate had decided it, and who was she to argue  with such a power?