Rowdy spent his second break doing some fast talking with Tim, Susie and Jessa. At least they understood. Well, not understood, but understood why he’d sprung something so unlike him on them. Tim had laughed his ass off while the ladies glared at him from across the waitresses break room.
“I never really got a chance to tell her no. Her mom was on us like white on rice!” Thanks to him dragging Jade to the bar for a beer. But he didn’t add that.
“I just don’t want you hurting her. She’s a very sweet girl, Robert Rowdon Yates!” Susie stood directly in front of the door, the only escape route, tapping her foot.
“Whoa. How come Aunt Susie knows your internet chick?” Tim had asked from where he sat on the other side of the rickety break room table.
“She’s my liquor rep,” Susie corrected.
From her spot on the ratty couch, Jessa laughed. “So you mean to tell me,” she began with a dimpled grin, “all this time you two have been going back and forth like a couple of boxers, you’ve been sparkin’ on the Internet? Really?”
Had he been courting her? Before he knew she was her? “Yeah,” he softly admitted with a nod.
“Aw, well, if that isn’t just the sweetest thing I ever heard.” Jessa beamed at him, her eyes twinkling.
He hung his head, that sinking feeling back. Jessa loved to play matchmaker almost as much as Toni did, and Susie liked Skye...Jade. The quiet one.
Skye was his flirty girl.
What was left of his break was spent trying to contact Skye who ended up inviting him to lunch at her place so they could talk.
Rowdy just couldn’t bring himself to think of her as Jade.
But he was real interested in finding out how they’d gone from enemies to engaged in twenty-four hours.
# # #
The next morning Rowdy was up at ten, catching up on some paperwork and downloading his e-mail. Nothing from Skye he noticed. He hadn’t seen her posting on the Drew Hartford list in a while either. And that reminded him of something else he needed to do. He ripped a purple sticky note off and jotted down a reminder to buy concert tickets next week for the San Antonio show in November. Then dialed Skye’s number from memory. When she answered on the forth ring, she sounded...asleep, her voice all soft and warm. “Lo?”
“Get up, sleepyhead.”
“Robbie? What time is it?”
“Nearly noon, and you’re supposed to feed me lunch and explain to me how we ended up engaged.”
He smiled at the sounds of her groaning and stretching. “It’s not even eleven,” she grumbled.
“I’m the one who was out late last night.”
“I always wondered--” She yawned right in his ear before she could finish her sentence.
“Wondered what?” He shut down the computer while waiting on her reply.
“Where you were...on the weekends. We never talked late and you always seemed to be in a hurry.”
“You never asked.”
“I was afraid. I didn’t want to.”
“You were afraid?” He frowned at the dark monitor, surprised at her confessed insecurity. Neither Jade nor Skye had ever struck him as insecure.
“Silly, huh?”
Especially since the truth turned out to be bigger than either of them had expected. He’d deal with that later. “What time’s lunch?”
Promptly at 12:30, Rowdy stood on Skye’s doorstep. Her neighborhood was made up of row upon row of pink stucco townhouses with white trim and garage doors and deep red Mexican tile roofs. They all looked alike with small patches of grass and two or three saplings. Not a full grown tree for blocks.
At her door hung a basket overflowing with Spanish Moss and nearby sat two large terra cotta pots full of yellow and orange Marigolds. His Skyebaby had a green thumb. He smiled and rang the doorbell.
His smile faded as an ugly little voice in his head reminded him their five minute engagement had been a sham, and she didn’t like “Rowdy.” He was a redneck, a good ole’ boy and she was the daughter of a high-tone judge who wore pearls to a damn dancehall.
Then the door swung open and he found himself greeted by the mouthwatering smell of garlic and chicken and Skye dressed in the same faded denim capris and Drew Hartford t-shirt he’d seen her wearing at Target. She had ankle socks on her feet and very little makeup. Despite the dark circles under her eyes and mussed hair, she was smiling.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, come on in.” She waved him in and stepped aside so he could pass. Skye looked so worn out Rowdy was struck with the urge to tuck her into bed and coddle her a while. Instead he paused to cup her face and plant a kiss on her cheek. To his surprise she returned the gesture. “Hungry?”
“Always.” He followed her into the kitchen, taking in the darkened living room they passed through. Tasteful but very sparse. The room didn’t even look lived-in. Her kitchen was another matter.
The floors were the same off-white tile as the entryway and a huge chili ristra hung in the corner above a small glass-topped table. Bright blue tile countertops contrasted with the pale sand colored walls and matching curtains that sported hieroglyphics along the border. This room looked much more like the Skye he knew. The one with eclectic tastes whose idea of a vacation was exploring Indian ruins in New Mexico or Central America.
“I didn’t set the table yet. Do you want to eat outside on the patio or in here?”
“Sure it’s not too hot out there for ya?” He resisted the urge to stick his finger in a bowl of what looked like fruit salad and scoop up a fingerful. Pineapple, strawberries and little bits of coconut teased him, making his mouth water.
“I won't melt.” She chuckled, the bit of color in her cheeks relieving some of the paleness.
“Then the patio works for me.”
With shaking hands, she poured their drinks and set out their lunch on a tray. His offer to help was refused with a smile. So he watched her bustle around, obviously too nervous to stay still for very long.
“You’re limping,” he noted when she returned from a trip outside.
“Yeah, I didn’t have my walking shoes on last night.”
“Last night?”
“Come on, before the flies eat our lunch.” She shooed him outside where she’d taken another small patch of yard and turned it into an oasis. A cement fairy holding an iridescent sphere sat off to one side, water bubbling from the top of the ball. More hanging baskets and terra cotta pots overflowing with flowers decorated each side of the patio and made things cozy.
The small table for two was made up of more Mexican tile and had been set with pale blue plates. They ate in silence a while--chicken salad filled with apples and walnuts on wheat rolls and her fruit salad, heavy on the whipped cream. Or rather, he ate.
Skye picked at her food.
“Not hungry?” Rowdy could get used to meals like this. But he wasn’t supposed to be here to talk about their future, just to let her know she was off the hook with his family. And vice versa. Why did everything have to be so messed up?
She was too far out of his reach and too complex, and he didn’t have time for complex women. They usually turned out to be high maintenance, and he was a man who liked to keep things simple. He liked girls who knew the score--it’s all good fun as long as it lasts. Skye didn’t know the rules, he could see that now. But damn she was cute. “So what happened to your feet?”
“Mom made me walk home last night. I actually—”
“Walk?” He paused in the middle of heaping more fruit salad on his plate to frown at her. “Not from the dancehall?”
“No, only a couple of miles from here. On the frontage road. We had a fight and I told her I was taking her off my Christmas card list.” She giggled and popped a cream covered strawberry in her mouth.
He didn’t understand her amusement. Family rifts were nothing to laugh about. He should know. His own mother hadn’t spoken to him in almost ten years and he didn’t want to be the cause of a rift between Skye and Her Honor.
“About me?”
She shook her head and held up a finger while she finished chewing. “Not just because of you.” She paused to lick a dot of whipped cream from the corner of her mouth. “Because of Allan.”
An unexpected and red-hot knot of jealousy twisted his gut at the mention of her ex-fiancé.
“He had the nerve to show up at my birthday dinner. Apparently, he’s divorced and HH...lemme start at the beginning.”
So she told him why she called her mom HH, how she’d gotten tipsy at the country club and how they came to be engaged. He laughed, but inwardly cringed. The only country club he’d ever belong to would be the dancehall. Respectable just wasn’t in his vocabulary, and never would be. Not her kind anyway. They didn’t belong together but that didn’t stop him from wanting her.
“Don’t sweat it. This has been a long time coming, Robbie.”
He snorted. “You’re the only one who calls me that. Even my mom never called me Robbie. I was Rowdy from the time I could walk. Daddy’s Rowdy boy,” he added softly.
“You don’t like to talk about your dad.”
“He’s dead. No reason to.” Rowdy scooted his chair back from the table and stretched his legs out, hoping she’d change the subject.
“I’m sorry about Wednesday night,” she said softly, curling up in the chair to face him. “I was just so shocked. I-I would never deliberately hurt anybody.”
“You could have knocked me over with a feather.” He chuckled and smiled over at her, hoping to relieve the worry in her eyes. She really was his Skyebaby. How the hell was he going to fix this?
She sighed and smiled at him in return, her eyes brightening to a warm grass green. “I still have trouble puttin’ it all together in my head. You just don’t act like you.”
“I could say the same.” He gave her an easy smile.
“I suppose--” She waved a hand “--I can see it now, but Wednesday night Rowdy and Robbie just didn’t click.”
“I loved giving you a hard time when you came into the dancehall,” he confessed softly, watching her from the corner of his eye. “You’d get so wound up.”
She chuckled a bit. “I thought you were a redneck gigolo.”
“I am,” he popped back with a grin. Or he was, until he met her. Skye had ruined him for all other women for so long. Hell.
“I’ve seen you flirt.” She sounded jealous.
“I was born to flirt, baby.” He cocked an eyebrow, unable to resist a smirk.
She shook her head and frowned. “Robbie, Robbie Robbie, what am I gonna do with you?” This was the Skye he’d fallen for.
“Just Love Me,” he quipped, throwing out the name of one of her favorite Drew Hartford songs. He shocked himself with his flip words and was thankful she looked away. “So how come you didn’t want to know how I spent my weekends?”
She traced her fork through the whipped cream on her plate and spoke so soft he almost missed her reply. “I was jealous.”
Rowdy couldn’t hold back a smile. He pushed harder, a part of him wanting something more definite from her. A handle on what she might feel for him. An idea of how to move forward. Despite the four year age difference there was something innocent about her. Maybe wholesome was a better word. He’d never imagined wholesome could be so sexy though. Pink cheeks, pale skin, exotic, slightly almond shaped eyes and an abundance of curves. “Of?”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and her cheeks flamed a deep scarlet again before she looked away. “Whoever you might be spending your weekends with.”
He was flattered, pure and simple, but one last thing bugged him. “What if your mom hadn’t shown up last night...wanting to meet your fiancé?”
“I’d planned on calling you today.” Cheeks pink, she hopped up and disappeared inside with her arms full of dishes.
Still smiling at her confession, Rowdy followed, figuring the least he could do was offer to wash.
He stepped in as Skye stepped out and they ended up in each other’s arms. He wrapped his arms around her to steady her, remembering just how much he’d enjoyed kissing her in the beer garden—despite the audience.
She didn’t have full lips, but they were still soft and today they were peach. Yesterday, last night, they’d been dark pink. His smile faded and, unable to resist, he leaned down and brushed his lips to hers. They were as soft as he remembered and tasted sweet, like the whipped cream from the fruit salad. He coaxed her mouth open and delved a little deeper, his tongue gently searching for hers. She shivered a bit and relaxed against him, her arms creeping around his neck.
With a low groan he tightened his grip on her and backed her into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. The suddenly chilly air did nothing to cool him down. He hadn’t planned on this happening but he wanted her. And he was gonna have her. Now.
Rowdy released Skye long enough to peel off his t-shirt and reach for hers, but she tugged the edge of her shirt from his grasp and he forced himself to slow down. Three months of celibacy had left him hungry and she was warm and sexy and sweet as sin.
He moved in close, nuzzling her neck and gently palming her breasts through her shirt. Skye sighed, her head rolling back as she thrust them further into his hands. He rubbed the tips and felt them harden beneath the soft cotton material and his cock stiffened in response, strangled by his tight jeans. She whimpered and her breathing picked up pace. Rowdy leaned in and pressed his lips to the tender spot just behind her ear and she tangled her hands in his hair. Her skin smelled like vanilla. And something else. The same deep earthy scent from last night that he’d struggled to identify.
Before he could lift her shirt up over her head a second time, she’d pushed him away, tears sparkling in her bright green eyes.
He frowned in confusion and concern. He didn’t want to upset her or rush her. Maybe he’d read her signals wrong and the desire had all been on his part. “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted--”
“I do,” she whispered, swiping at the tear that slid down her cheek. He breathed a tiny sigh of relief, reached up and grabbed her hand, caught off guard by her next words. “But I can't.”
“Is it...the wrong time?”
With a tiny laugh, Skye shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “I want you so bad.”
“You can have me.” Rowdy gently massaged her neck and shoulders, still unsure of the reason for her hesitation. “All you have to do is lead me to your bedroom. Or the couch...or right here.”
She shook her head with a sigh, her lips twisted in a wry grin. Jade licked her lips and finally explained. “Do you know what’s worse than being celibate?”
Aha. She hadn’t had sex in three years. “What?” he asked softly, wrapping his arms around her.
“Getting used to being celibate. It’s like having to shift from fifth to first as fast as possible and you know it’s gonna be rough and you’ll grind the gears getting there.”
“And that has what to do with us?” Until five months ago celibacy wasn’t even in his vocabulary.
“If I take you upstairs, then I have to start all over again. It’s like going on a diet and cheating and then having to go back to the beginning again,” she babbled. “What’s that kids game where if you land on the wrong space you have to start all over? “Sorry?” Like that. I’d rather not have you.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a minute and swallowed, then met his gaze head-on. The determined set of her chin didn’t leave him any room for doubt. And the message was clear.
She’d rather be celibate than have a one nighter--or rather, a nooner.
Which meant he had to make a choice. Take a chance; break his rules or walk away now.
He studied her pretty face, all her doubts loud and clear in her bright green eyes, despite her stubbornness. And chose.
“So who says you have to go back on your diet tomorrow?” He reached up and ran his fingers through her thick, silky hair.
“I know. There’s still the...the horse thing, but after that.” She shrugged.
He chuckled at the horse reference. He still hadn’t figured out how they’d manage that one. “Skye, I want you.” Even so, he couldn’t lie. “I...I can’t make promises about how long, but I want you for longer than just today.” He leaned down and caught her lips in a quick soft kiss before continuing. “And I promise you won't regret it come morning.”
“Morning?”
“Yeah, morning,” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
She smiled and ducked her head, and it finally dawned on him that Susie had been right. She was shy.
Aware of his painful erection and the need to draw her in, take his time, Rowdy pressed his lips to the fluttering pulse at the base of her neck and waited. She shivered against his lips and leaned into him, and he continued tracing kisses up her neck since he didn’t hear any more protests. Instead he felt her hands on his back, then on his arms as she pulled him closer until he bit the tender spot on her shoulder and she bucked against him, growling his name from between clenched teeth.
He planted a soft kiss on the spot he’d bitten, then smiled down at her.
“Upstairs,” she gasped, one hand taking hold of his.
“Lead the way.” He gave her a soft kiss and another smile. Skye led him up the stairs to her bedroom. Complete with brightly colored walls, an eclectic mix of antiques and modern western art, her unmade bed and last night’s clothes strewn on the floor.
He slowly peeled her shirt off, grinning at the sight of a green and black tiger stripe bra that contrasted with her pale skin. He watched her face as he circled her waist, his hands skimming the curves of her back until he reached the hooks holding her bra closed. She watched him, too, her lower lip caught between her teeth. One by one he unhooked them and let the straps fall loose before pulling them down her arms.
Berries.
Her nipples were the color of dark overripe berries. And her breasts overflowed his hands. They were heavy and silky soft and pale against his tanned skin.
Leaning over, he covered one sensitive peak with his mouth and lightly kneaded the other with his fingers as his blood heated with anticipation. Her nipple hardened against his tongue and he suckled until she whimpered and dug her nails into his shoulders.
Rowdy released her long enough to finish undressing her.
She wore matching panties.
But he barely got a chance to admire the dark curls between her thighs or touch her before she dove under the messy bedding and rolled to face him, an embarrassed smile on her pink face. He shucked his jeans and briefs before joining her, stretching out on the pale striped bed linens that smelled like her.
He pulled her to him and ran the fingers of his free hand down her arm, forcing her to give up her fight with the tangled sheets. They didn’t need them anyway. “You feel good.”
“You’re huge.” Her face turned three more shades of red. So she’d noticed.
“It just looks big cause you haven’t had sex in three years,” he teased. He felt like he was drowning in her sweet softness and the exotic earthy scent of her perfume. It was everywhere and left him feeling intoxicated.
“I ache,” she whimpered, rubbing her smooth legs against his. So did he.
He leaned up on one elbow and slipped one hand in the curls between her thighs to discover she was drenched. Her lashes lowered and her hips arched against his hand as she sighed.
Rowdy ignored the obvious, choosing instead to explore the rest of her. He caressed her velvety soft thighs as she rubbed them against his legs and snuggled as close as she could get. Her belly quivered under his fingertips, her eyes unfocused then slowly fluttered shut. She lightly skimmed his back with her snort nails and relaxed against him.
There, that was better.
Her nipples puckered rudely at the lightest touch, proving how sensitive they were. He smiled and taunted the tender peaks with his fingers and tongue, burying his face in her lush, heavy breasts.
“Robbie, please,” she panted, rubbing against him, her fingers brushing against his erection with a tentative caress. He didn’t want her to think she had to reciprocate. Maybe next time.
“No, baby. Not yet.” Rowdy eased his hips away from her hand and kissed her, repeatedly, nibbling at her sweet lips. Exploring her soft mouth with deep, exploratory kisses full of promise. They varied from light and teasing to an erotic tongue-play that nearly pushed him over the edge.
He groaned, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to settle between her thighs and thrust inside and make her his. He wanted to feel her tight wetness around him, working his cock. Instead he slipped one finger inside her, smiling at the feel of her milking him. His balls twitched in an automatic response to her heat. Her need.
He added another, rubbing against the sensitive walls and stretching her as best he could. She wasn’t quite ready and Rowdy didn’t want to hurt her, only mate with her. Whimpering softly, she shifted beside him, clutching his wrist. He groaned as the ache in his balls slowly intensified and logic left him.
Her excitement drove him on. Instead of giving in to the urge to fuck like an animal, he latched onto a nipple with his mouth and continued to stroke her with his fingers. Her legs spread wide beneath the sheet, one hand scratching at his forearm, the other in his hair or rubbing his neck and back.
“Robbie!” Skye convulsed around his fingers, tighter this time, and bucked, grinding her hips against his hand.
He looked up. Her eyes were open but still unfocused on the ceiling and her breathing heavy. Enough!
He positioned himself between her thighs, and with a gentle thrust, felt her close around him, warm and very tight. He groaned in satisfaction and focused on her as she arched to meet him and hissed a low “yes.”
“Easy, baby,” he whispered against her lips.
“I want it all,” she growled, digging her nails into his back.
“I want you to be able to walk tomorrow,” he quipped, throwing back the sheet and wrapping his arms beneath the pillow on either side of her head. She panted and whimpered, her walls pulsating around his cock as she squirmed against him for release.
“Robbie, please! I wanna come,” she begged long and loud, finally meeting his eyes.
“I know, Skye.” He slowly withdrew and sank back into her tight warmth in one long stroke.
“Please!” She locked her arms around his neck and thrust to meet him again.
He repeated the process and she smiled and lowered her eyelids, relaxing the tiniest bit. One stroke became two and they multiplied until they were both slick with sweat. He fucked and played, and she greedily took everything he gave her, meeting each thrust and growling and clawing at his back. For the longest time all he could hear was their heavy breathing and bodies slapping together furiously.
“Hurry!”
“Not yet. Come for me first,” he coaxed. He captured her lips and briefly delved into her mouth.
“Help me,” she begged against his lips before latching onto his tongue and dragging him down for more.
He didn’t know how much longer he could hang on. But he knew one sure-fire way to make her come, and fast. He slowed his pace, then came to a halt deep inside her with a low groan as a shiver danced down his back straight to his tight balls. She was so incredibly wet!
There was plenty of room on either side for him to roll over. “Wrap your arms around me,” he ordered.
She did, and Rowdy rolled, putting her on top. They paused for a second, her warm breath tickling his neck. “Sit up.”
“I need the sheet,” she gasped, her head on his chest.
“Fuck the sheet! Sit up and ride me, now.” God, he wanted to come inside her so bad!
She did. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned long and loud. Damnit, she felt so good!
He caught his breath, licked two fingers and teased her clit as she tried to find her rhythm.
He knew he hit paydirt as she squealed and bucked, riding him harder, her eyes closed and breasts bouncing. Then she started screaming. His name, obscenities, for God to help her. All of it. He came with a laugh and a shout, pulling her down on top of him and thrusting beneath her until he was satisfied.
For now. It was gonna be a long night for the both of them.