Getting Rowdy. Lori Foster
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“I want to know everything about you.” For most of his life, choices had been taken away from him. She’d never do that to him. “But I won’t pry anymore if it bothers you.”
That surprised him, too. He scowled at her. “Let’s hear it.”
Enjoying him like this, in this particular humble, grumbling mood, she rested against his chest again. “You said you didn’t want to bring a casual hookup here.”
“It’s bad enough that the ladies in the building keep bugging me. Some women don’t know how to take no for an answer.”
Few men would complain about that situation. “So...why is it okay if I’m here?”
Avery felt his sudden stillness, heard the heavy thumping of his strong heart along with his softly muttered curse.
She stayed close, waiting.
He let out a strained breath. “With you, Avery, I never really know what the hell I’m doing.”
* * *
THE COLD NIGHT started to seep into his bones. All around him he heard unsettling noises that made him jumpy. He wouldn’t be surprised if murder and mayhem happened on a regular basis in such a downtrodden area. It was time for him to go home. He had what he needed now.
He knew where she worked, and he knew who she fucked.
Putting a plan in place would be oh-so-easy.
Soon, Avery, he silently promised. Very, very soon.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE MOON, combined with dashboard lights, sent a soft glow over Avery’s profile as he drove her home. His awareness of this one particular woman throbbed through his veins, leaving him on the ragged edge. It wouldn’t take more than a single agreeable look from her to get him hard.
Again.
That damned torturous episode on his couch had nearly done him in. He couldn’t keep from touching her, even if he was the only one to combust.
No one had ever touched him so...gently before. That kiss hadn’t been sexual. It didn’t say, “Fuck me, Rowdy.” Actually, he didn’t know what the hell it said, and he wasn’t at all sure he liked it.
The uncertainty hadn’t kept him from getting turned on, though.
Why is it okay if I’m here? she’d wanted to know. So many reasons...
Instead of reacting as most women would, Avery had looked at him with empathy, sadness, maybe understanding. Because he’d spilled his guts to her. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel and tried to shrug off the uncomfortable sense of vulnerability.
It pissed him off that he’d said so much. Hell, he didn’t confide in anyone. Not even his sister. Definitely not a woman he planned to have under him as soon as humanly possible.
Why is it okay if I’m here?
Then again, Avery was different from other women. He wanted her, no mistaking that, but even when he knew he wouldn’t have her, he enjoyed talking to her and just...being with her. She made him feel things, unfamiliar stuff he’d never dealt with before.
And that was saying something, since he’d had more than his share of shit to manage.
“You’re so quiet,” she said with unsettling understanding. “Everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Just because she asked him questions he couldn’t answer.
“I don’t know,” she said. “You seem bothered.”
“I’m thinking, that’s all.” He had no idea about Avery’s background. He knew enough about false impressions that he refused to draw conclusions just because she worked in a shit bar and rode a bus instead of driving.
“About my question?” She turned defensive. “Relax, Rowdy. I won’t make assumptions just because I was granted entrance to your private domain.”
Defensive and dramatic. Did she really have no clue how differently he felt with her? “A smart person never assumes.”
She crossed her arms and huddled farther into the corner of the front seat. “If it’s that much of a problem, forget I asked about it.”
He glanced at her, but she kept her face averted, watching the landscape pass by her window. Her beautiful red hair, now freed from the band thanks to him, flowed over her shoulders and helped to keep her concealed.
“Never said it was a problem.” He just didn’t have an easy answer.
“Yet, ten minutes later, you’re still stewing.”
Her prickly attitude amused him, and maybe that’s what he liked most about her. No matter his mood, she lightened it just by being near at hand, by being herself—quirky and honest and so damned unique. “I had to figure it out.”
That got her attention. Like a warm touch, her gaze moved over him. “And did you?”
“I think so.” Following her directions, he took a right down a quiet side street. “I don’t like having women chase after me.”
She snorted. “And that’s why you do so much to discourage them?”
“I meant after I’ve already slept with them,” he clarified. “Doesn’t matter how I spell things out up front, too often they’re looking for a repeat.”
She smirked in annoyance. “One and done, huh?”
Feeling her scrutiny, he gave a noncommittal lift of his shoulder. With Avery, he had his doubts that even a dozen times would be enough. “Living out of my car, using motels just as a place to crash—”
“Or have sex.”
He agreed with a nod. “That’s not really the type of setup where you want to get cozy with someone. I didn’t date. I didn’t do romance. I hooked up long enough to take care of business—”
“To get laid?”
Having her break it down like that annoyed him. “Are you going to paraphrase everything I say? I can be more blunt if that’s what you want.”
She shook her hair behind her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’m listening.”
“All right, fine. I’m set in my ways. I like to fuck and move on. No reason to make more out of it than that.”
The silence became so heavy, he felt like a dick. And really, why had he shared that with her? Avery was unique, so the usual didn’t apply to her.
He still hadn’t answered her question, but she let it go and instead cleared her throat.