Gypsy Road - Leather And Lace Part 6

Once she tidied up the apartment and read a few chapters of the romance novel she'd purchased Friday evening, she went to look in on him because she thought she heard him get up.

He still lay on her bed on his back, breathing evenly, the covers kicked to the end of mattress. Slipping out of her shoes, she moved into the room soundlessly to look at him. Despite the warmth in her face, she allowed herself to regard him from head to toe.

This man was made of nothing more than bone, muscle and skin that looked as silky as her lingerie.

He s.h.i.+fted slightly, turning toward her, and she held her breath in consternation. What would he think of her if he discovered her staring at him while he slept?

He relaxed again, and she couldn't help noticing his jeans were open enough to reveal a pair of leopard print underwear and a thin gold chain just above the elastic.

A spiral of something she couldn't identify went through her abdomen, making her hot and a little breathless. He was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that created the desire to touch, to discover.

With uncharacteristic impudence, Bethany wished she'd never left the bed that morning. Never been proper by leaving his arms. She wanted to be there again. She wanted to lay down next to him and touch him, kiss his soft mouth and trace the gold band he wore around his lean hips.

Her own audacity shocked and shamed her, and she fled the room only to return a few minutes later with the same unquenchable need. After a.s.suring herself he was completely unconscious and would never know, she sat at the edge of her bed gently. Following a minute of searching for and finding her courage, she lay down next to him. Her hair trailed over his forearm, causing him to s.h.i.+ft to take her in his arms.

Bethany's heart beat wildly in her chest and pushed against her throat. It surprised her when tears burned her eyes, but not half as much as the reason for them. She wanted him in a way that she'd never wanted a specific man before. She wanted to give herself to Rod, and for some reason, it didn't frighten her to admit it to herself.

The feel of his lips against her forehead was all the coercion needed for her to lift her face to him. His eyes were still closed, yet he sought her mouth, blindly at first. Her lack of shyness brought them together.

She hadn't been imagining things. He'd been up before; she could tell by the minty taste of mouthwash when his tongue touched hers.

There was no fear in her as he rose above her, his eyes opening to lock with hers. Certain that one of them would come to their senses, she lifted her hands to his hair, something that suddenly seemed like a lifelong wish. With the groan of hunger he uttered, she closed her eyes and floated into pa.s.sion unlike any she'd ever experienced before.

She continued to float, even when his mouth left hers and she opened her eyes to find her blouse open so he could caress her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It was new, because she'd never willingly allowed a man to touch her there. Scott had tried to see what he could get away with, but that roughness had been nothing like this.

"You're so pretty, sweetness. I wanna see you," Rod said softly. Even when her blush traveled past her bra, she didn't want to stop him. The sensations were too new. Too wonderful.

"G.o.d, you make me feel special, Bethany."

His words were as unexpected as the way he lay his head on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, almost like a child seeking comfort.

It hurt. For some reason, it hurt her to think--despite all the women he'd undoubtedly been with--not one had made him feel special. Why else would he say something like that? He had to know she was willing, yet he didn't rush to see just how much she would give, how much he could take. How could a man like him be lonely? How could he not know he was special, with or without her?

She stroked his head, wanting to give him whatever he needed. This was what intimacy was. What being a lover truly meant. There were no games and no expectations. Even if she couldn't keep him interested in her, even if he broke her heart, she was certain now that she'd have no regrets.

Since Bethany sent him home early Sunday night, Rod had more sleep than someone with the flu would need. He woke up at ten o'clock Monday morning with a headache worse than a hangover. For over an hour, knowing he should get to work, he instead lay there, petting Cam's coa.r.s.e head, wondering if he'd lost his mind.

He could have had a beautiful, sweet, s.e.xy woman at any time yesterday.

Could have taken her to realms she'd never been before and given himself a little relief from the ache he felt near-constant lately. If all he was working toward was satisfaction and a little mitigation, he would have done it and done it with a smile on his face.

But, man, he was in trouble this time. He never wanted to leave Bethany. He never wanted to do anything wrong with her. He'd rather die than hurt her. So he hadn't taken advantage of her willingness, hadn't let himself think past how good she made him feel just by being near.

Regretting things--what a strange concept for him. But he'd found himself doing that yesterday, when he was with Bethany and when he'd left her. A huge part of him wished he'd never known any other woman except Bethany. Though he wasn't a hundred percent certain she wasn't a virgin (a twenty-four year old virgin was outside the boundaries of reality), he knew she'd never indulged in recreational s.e.x or s.e.x that was taken with the pre-acceptance that the relations.h.i.+p wasn't going anywhere else. What limited experience she had to have must have been followed by months or even years of an exclusive relations.h.i.+p she'd believed would end in marriage. For some reason, it hadn't.

Thinking about that kind of purity made Rod ashamed of his own hedonistic life. Bethany Briggs deserved a guy who hadn't sampled just about every beautiful babe he'd ever met. In his twenty-seven years, he'd never once considered his own "purity." Having a healthy s.e.x drive was commendable, had been his way of thinking. But then all the women he'd been with, he a.s.sumed they'd been under as many sheets as he had. Bethany deserved a man who was at least as chaste as she was. And that pretty much eliminated him.

Of course he hadn't gotten this far in life believing he had limits.

Everything he'd ever wanted, he got through luck, perseverance, or just plain confidence. If he couldn't have Bethany by the ideal code, he'd take the next best road. Commitment. From now on, he was a one-woman man.

For once, that wouldn't be a mission impossible, he thought. Bethany was one of the few women he'd ever known who genuinely liked and could be satisfied by kissing and cuddling, the way he did and could. He might be able to hold out for a couple weeks. The hardest it would get would be if she started to enjoy her s.e.xuality. There was nothing more potent to a man than that.

Rod forced himself to get up, much to the dog's displeasure, get dressed and head to work.

JoJo had called last night, something of a consolation to him because he'd been feeling sorry for himself, wondering why Bethany had asked him to leave. It was more than that her brother would be calling and she had to be home for the call. The phone conversation with Josie had ended with the usual "Go to h.e.l.l"

from her and his shame. He'd realized long ago the way to get her to express her emotions was to goad and provoke her. Anger was better than the mask his sister showed the world. The fighting between them had become habitual, but he still longed for the days when they'd been close enough to share everything.

The kind of heartache his sister had faced, the heartache that gave her her unemotional mask. . .Rod had never even had a pa.s.sing glimpse of anything like it in his life. When it was over, it was end-of-story for him and the future was always waiting. There was a chance of heartbreak now--with Bethany, because there was a lot more than a.s.suaging loneliness involved.

He was lonely right now. It surprised him to realize that every one of the women he'd invited into his sister's home in the past few months had been somehow involved with Rainbow Nights. The type of women waiting to be picked up because they had nothing else in life. Selfishly, he wished Bethany could quit her job and move in with him. But he couldn't ask her to do that. She seemed to love her little salon, and he doubted she was ready for sixteen plus hours a day with any man, let alone him. Maybe next week she'd be ready.

As he drove to work, he wondered what Bethany was doing. Giving somebody a haircut? Crouching down to stock those shelves with hair care products? Was she wearing one of those pretty, sophisticated suits of hers?

The need for her came on him so fiercely, Rod felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Why couldn't he have met her five years ago? She would have been only nineteen, but it wouldn't have mattered. They could have had five kids by now and be celebrating their anniversary by making another baby.

There was no way he was going to be able to wait patiently to give her any kind of "courts.h.i.+p." He'd already been waiting five years too long.

When Rod got to work, he found Jon in the shop office, on the phone. He didn't bother to glance at Rod as he sifted through the untidy pile of paper and miscellaneous heaped on the desk's surface. By the time Rod got a soda from the ancient machine, he was off the phone, using both hands in his quest.

"What are you looking for?"

Blackie stepped into the office in time to hear Jon say, "That was JoJo.

She said she sent us a handful of plane tickets to fly out to The Keys with her.

Either of you remember seeing a letter from her?"

Since Rod rarely came in early enough to retrieve the mail, he couldn't help.

Not long after they opened for business, all three of them had realized they needed a full-time secretary, receptionist, publicist and bookkeeper to perform the necessary business tasks. None of them qualified, but together they'd managed to keep most things straight. It wasn't that they couldn't afford to hire someone. They simply couldn't afford to hire more than one person. None of the people they'd interviewed could perform all the necessary duties. It was one or two skills, but not all. Instead of hiring someone and doing the rest themselves, they'd just decided to do it on their own. Someday maybe they'd find a jack-of-all-trades to work for them.

And maybe hiring a maid wouldn't be a waste of time either, Rod thought.

Blackie stepped over to the desk, lifted a stack of junk, leafed through what was beneath it and miraculously came up with a big white envelope with JoJo's handwriting scrawled across the front. Jon took it. Inside were round-trip tickets to the Florida Keys, along with a note saying where Cameron should be boarded and that they should invite Jerry and Lori Gordon. The sixth ticket was for Morris, if they could "get his a.s.s on the d.a.m.n plane." The extra was for the girl Rod was currently shacked up with in her house.

"So, you wanna go?" Jon asked them. "We can arrange things so none of the work orders are due during the week we're gone."

A lot of the customers were also friends and would agree to any delay.

They'd have plenty of time to finish up the ones who didn't agree.

Blackie nodded, turning toward the soda machine, giving it a precisely aimed kick, then retrieving the can.

"I'll ask Bethany if she wants to go, otherwise you can go without me." At the moment, "a week or so" without his baby sounded like an afterlife of burning in h.e.l.l to Rod.

Handing Blackie his ticket and two for Lori and Jerry, Jon teased, "Well, she lasted through the week. I guess you didn't "steal" anything from her."

"I told you, there's no such thing as a virgin, but even if she is I was a perfect gentleman." Or as close as he'd get in this lifetime. "She's special."

"Think I've heard that before," Blackie muttered.

Of course Rod had said it before. He'd had a lot of women. Reason dictated he'd have to be crazy about one or two of them. For at least 24 hours, that was.

He didn't even care if no one believed him that this time was different. The only person he had to prove himself to was Bethany.

"She's gonna have my babies," he said, going for a little shock therapy.

Swearing, Jon glanced at Blackie to see what he thought. The two of them burst out laughing.

Rod took a gulp of his soda, letting them have their fun at his expense.

"Does she know about this?" Jon asked, serious now, tossing the remainder of the tickets in the top desk drawer.

"She will soon enough."

"Geez, Rod, the longest you've ever been with a girl is two weeks. I'd like to see this sweet thing have your baby in two weeks. You might get her pregnant, but what are you gonna do with it when you're bored?"

"A baby's not an 'it.'"

"And you're not grown up enough to have a kid of your own. Do you even know how to spell responsibility?"

The fact that they were suddenly taking this so seriously told Rod something--they believed he was serious. Because of what he'd said or because they'd met Bethany and could believe she was different, he didn't know.

"I know it's got a lot of i's."

Blackie rolled his eyes while Jon said, "I know you're not known for your slow hand, but don't you think you're rus.h.i.+ng things, man? You're probably scaring the h.e.l.l out of that lady. She's used to suit-and-ties, and that type don't make their move until she's in the trap."

Setting down the can he'd emptied, Rod shrugged. "Well, I'm fresh out of traps this time."

Was he scaring her? he wondered as he went out to the shop to start work.

Probably. But maybe she needed to have her life shook up a little. Maybe she needed a little leather. Just like he needed a little lace.

She'd never see him again, Bethany thought when five o'clock rolled around and she waved goodnight to her employees. Rod's car was nowhere in sight. After looking up and down the street for almost five minutes under the guise of sweeping the sidewalk in front of her salon, she forced herself to go back in and turn the sign on the door to closed.

Maybe she shouldn't have asked him to leave last night. She hadn't done it because she wanted him gone, not at all. It was just something she had to do.

When Randy called, she had to be alone or he'd know something was happening. She couldn't lie to her brother, so her only other option had been to tell him the truth.

The truth wasn't something she was ready to admit to Rod. She was falling in love with him, against everyone's better judgment. Maybe her own too. Randy had so strongly disapproved, he'd been a single step away from forbidding her to see Rod. Part of him must have realized he couldn't do that. She couldn't stay away from Rod, if he wanted her, even if it meant disappointing the person dearest to her.

Immaterial now, since Rod had seemingly forgotten all about her. Randy had warned her that a playboy like Rod Summers was interested only as long as he thought he could get something out of it. It was difficult for Bethany to believe that of the man she'd spent the weekend with, easier to believe she was so boring it wasn't possible to hold a man like Rod's interest.

How much more embarra.s.sing to realize she'd been willing to do anything for him yesterday, yet he hadn't made a move. Though she'd only known him a few days, she had the impression Rod was as poor a liar as she was. He had wanted her. Maybe that intimidated him. A man of his experience had to know she was a virgin.

In her small office, she got her coat, feeling guilty for being so disappointed. What had she been hoping for? Marriage? As sincere and sweet as Rod seemed to her, he was not the marrying kind. She had no illusions about that.

Well, she didn't want to go through life being told she was making a mistake or fooling herself, did she?

That morning, Olivia had come in with an old tabloid containing an interview with a supermodel Rod had met in Hawaii. This model had been very candid, saying she'd had no clue Rod was going to break it off with her.

Especially after he'd spent the night before wining and dining her. "Romantic dinner, romantic gifts, romantic s.e.x," the model claimed, making Bethany cringe with jealousy even if the relations.h.i.+p was history. And then the next day, out of the clear blue, Rod had told this gorgeous woman it was over.

So many people were trying to show her Rod was a loser. It was the Scott Reeves thing all over again, everyone seemed to think except her. Rod was nothing like Scott. Not once had Scott made her feel special and ready. Though she was glad later that Rod hadn't taken advantage of her willingness (not because she would have regretted it, but because in her mind it was too soon), no one had ever made her feel the way Rod did. At least she'd always have that.

As she slipped into her coat, she remembered with embarra.s.sment the plans she'd been making all day. Before leaving yesterday, he'd asked her when she got off work. That was what gave her the freedom to dream about making him dinner.

It surely came from playing with dolls until she was seventeen, but cooking a special meal for a special man was her ultimate fantasy.

The humiliation grew, and, shaking her head, she thought, No wonder everyone thinks I'm a fool. Foolish tears burned behind her eyes. Why did she have to be the type to cry easily?

Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she picked up a folder of business papers and left the office, trying to hold her emotions back. At least until she got home.

The bell over the front door jingled as she turned the corner into the service area of the salon. It was Rod, with a bouquet of flowers dangling from his hand. Her relief was so immense the tears rushed forward uncontrollably.

Fleeing to the bathroom instead of letting him see her like this would have been best, but now that he was here she couldn't move.

He came to her smiling, starting to apologize for being late, until he saw her stupid tears. Nothing turned a man off faster than someone who clung to him desperately. And she fell apart at the least letdown.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked in gentle surprise, using the hand with the flowers to pull her close and the other to lift her face.

Bethany shook her head, feeling the temperature in her face become an inferno.

"You didn't think I was coming, did you?"

His guess was so accurate, she had to wonder if her heart was in her eyes.

She looked away in mortification, trying to deny his precision.

He drew her closer, turning her face back to his and ducking so they were facing each other. "You did, didn't you?"

What could she say? His eyes were so soft and apologetic, she couldn't have even denied her love of him if he'd wanted to know.

"Aw, sweetness." He urged her face nearer and kissed her cheeks. "I'm not gonna disappear that easy. I just didn't wanna show up empty-handed."

She was silly. She was the silliest person in the world. Why wasn't he looking at her the way her behavior dictated he should? Why did he seem touched by her reaction?

"You filled my apartment with flowers," she reminded in a whisper, the only allowance if she wanted to stop the tears.