Jennifer and Rocket (The Princesses of Silicon Valley Book 6)

by Claire, Anita

  “Is this what this is about?”

  “What?”

  “You, the mood you’ve been in. Are you having problems with me? My…lifestyle?”

  She shrugs, but doesn’t tell me different. I thought we were cool. I’m wondering what brought this on. Did her family give her grief about me when she was home? We finish eating in silence. She looks over at the dick she used to date. He’s sitting with some other suits. Is that what she wants?

  Chapter 30 – Tristan

  Jennifer

  My mind is spinning—first Tristan, now Carter. Not that I would ever want to sleep with Carter again. I saw the way he checked out Rocket and smirked, then gave me that look, like I’ve gone downhill since I was with him, like I’m slumming. Who does Carter think he is, looking down at Rocket? His attitude pisses me off, but also makes me self-conscious. I’m caught between being proud of my relationship with Rocket and wanting to hide it.

  When Rocket drives me home, he doesn’t park but idles by the front door.

  “Are you going to come in?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “I’m going back to the office. We have a release going out. Hopefully, if I get my build to compile, I’ll be free this weekend.”

  I stare at him in shock, as I remain unable to move in the cab. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  He looks shocked as he answers, “What, one uncomfortable conversation and you think it’s over?” He looks at me as if he’s trying to read me. My mind is too twisted to say anything. He finally continues, “No, I’m not breaking up with you. I have a lot going on at work. I’m not in the mood to do this tonight.”

  I nod, get out of the cab, and walk into the building. I hear his truck rumble out of the parking lot. One side of me wants to run after him and say, “No, don’t go…. Spend the night.” The other side wants to pull out my phone and text Tristan back. Is that what he sensed? Is he giving me a chance to make my decision?

  As I head up the stairs, I pull out my phone. Re-reading Tristan’s message, I respond: Yes, getting together sounds like fun.

  Then I stare at the phone, wondering when he’s going to respond back. As I enter our apartment, Kara looks up from her computer.

  “Where’s Rocket?” she says.

  I shrug, feeling too weary from all of my confusion to talk.

  “What’s going on with you two?” she asks. “I like him,” she tells me in her practical, schoolmarm tone of voice. Then she elaborates, “He’s more down to earth and treats you better than Carter or Bishop. What did you see in those guys?”

  I shrug again, since the comment cuts too close to the bone.

  I only manage to say, “I’m heading to bed.”

  I’m drifting off when my phone dings. Picking it up, it’s a message from Tristan.

  Drinks?

  I quickly respond: Yes. I don’t need to deal with my confusion over Rocket. If Tristan wants me, then I can be happy with the man of my dreams.

  ***

  In the morning, the first thing I do is check my phone. Tristan hasn’t gotten back to me. Rocket texted me late last night: Goodnight, sleep well.

  I break my rule about checking messages during the day. Nothing from Tristan. Rocket sent a sweet text. After school, when I check my phone, still no Tristan. But Rocket texts me: Another late night, I’ll keep you posted about getting together for dinner tomorrow.

  I get home and wonder when Tristan and I are going out. While I text back and forth with Rocket, every text makes me feel worse. Is Olivia right? Since Rocket and I never had the monogamous talk, are we still casual?

  I sit and watch TV in a funk as too many uncomfortable thoughts swirl in my mind. My phone buzzes.

  Tristan: RU free for drinks in an hour?

  Jennifer: Yes

  I race into my room, take a quick shower, pull on tight jeans and a cute little top. Then I look at my phone, he never said where we’re going. As I choose my favorite high heeled boots, I get another text.

  Tristan: Meet you at Mixx, 30 minutes.

  Jennifer: See you.

  As I leave my room, I pass Kara. “Where are you going all dolled up?” she asks.

  “A friend from college asked me to meet him for drinks.”

  She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything.

  ***

  I drive to Mixx and park. My stomach twists, Rocket and I never said we were exclusive, but, in my heart I know this isn’t right. I keep driving; all my will power is gone. I’ve always dreamed of Tristan. This might be my only chance to get him.

  With determination, I get out of my car and walk to the restaurant. I immediately spot Tristan. He looks beautiful; he’s wearing a high quality pressed blue shirt that matches his eyes, and he’s perfectly groomed with his hair gelled back.

  I walk over to him and say, “Hey, stranger, I’m glad you gave me a call.”

  He looks me up and down. “You look fine,” he says with a smoldering smile. Then he drapes his arm around me and says into my ear, “Do you want a drink, or better yet, we can head back to your place.”

  I’m taken aback; I know I came here because I want him. But I thought…what did I think? I thought he would at least wine and dine me? He remembered me from college. He looked me up and sent me a text. He’s beautiful, an attorney, my family would love him; he’s my perfect man.

  I maintain my smile and nod. “A drink sounds perfect.”

  He nods and calls over the bartender.

  “Anchor Steam on tap,” I say as the bartender nods.

  Turning back to Tristan, I look up into his beautiful chiseled face. “I thought you’d be on the Google bus by now.”

  “I had to attend a town meeting, which, of course, went long. We’re trying to get some concessions. Anyway, it’s not a total loss, I get to see you,” he says with a steamy look in his eyes as he moves closer.

  I smile and rub against him. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” I say in my most flirty voice.

  The bartender hands me my drink. I take a sip and give Tristan a flirty look over the top of my mug.

  He runs his finger down my cheek. “You are a pretty one.”

  I look up into those beautiful crystal blue eyes. “I can say the same about you.” My voice comes out in a purr.

  “Pretty? My macho image of myself has now been blown away,” he flirts back.

  We chat about nothing while everything is about flirting. When I finish my beer, he throws some bills on the bar and says, “Where are you parked?”

  “Just around the block,” I tell him as I point in the general direction.

  He picks up his satchel, places it over his shoulder, puts his arm around me, and gives a kiss to my temple murmuring, “You smell great.” Then he says, “Let’s walk to your car.”

  As we walk close to each other, he says while simultaneously squeezing my waist, “Your brother’s not going to interrupt us again, is he?”

  “Thankfully, he’s up in Seattle.”

  He then runs his hand from my waist over my butt. I look up as he looks down. We both smile.

  As we reach my car, I pull out my keys and beep the car open.

  “Where are you parked?” I say. “I can drive you over to your car and you can follow me back to my place.”

  His smile is filled with lust as he blocks me against the door, takes my head in his hands, and leans down and lightly kisses me. He moves his head away. I open my eyes in time to see his smoldering look, as he leans in and lightly kisses me again. This is about as far as we got in Hawaii.

  This time my brother’s not here to stop us.

  I silently cheer.

  Tristan moves closer and rubs his groin against me. My lips part, ready for the next kiss. He then sticks his tongue in my mouth. He tastes like cigarettes. Yuck, I didn’t know he smoked. I try to get into it but…he rolls his tongue around and he’s way too goopy. It feels like he’s spitting in my mouth. His hand moves down and he honks my boob as he uncomfortably grabs my ass.<
br />
  Yuk, is this a joke?

  I move my head away.

  He says, “Stephanie, don’t act like that.”

  What!

  I push him away.

  “My name’s Jennifer,” I spit out.

  “Yeah, what did I say?”

  “You called me Stephanie.”

  “Oh, hey, I was close.”

  “Where are you parked?” I ask, my voice sounds harsher than I intended.

  “Oh, don’t be like that. Come on, it’s too late to play hard to get.”

  “Tristan, where’s your car?” I ask with a firmer voice.

  “My car’s in the city.”

  “Do you need me to drive you over to Google to catch the bus?”

  “Baby,” he says as he pulls me tight and rubs his now bulging pants against me. “The bus stops running at 8:30. You’re hot, and lately I’ve had a thing for Asian chicks. Let’s go back to your place.”

  “What!” I push him away. “You thought you’d text me, I’d show up, and you get yourself an Asian fuck buddy for the night?”

  He stumbles back and says, “Hey, what did you think? You were into it a few minutes ago.”

  “Yeah, until I realized you’re a complete ass.”

  I get in my car, slam the door, and drive off. Or maybe I’m the ass. Really? Beautiful Tristan Hall kisses that bad! As I drive it hits me, he only called me so he didn’t have to take the train home.

  Shit.

  Rocket’s spoiled me.

  I’m used to a guy who kisses me like he means it, and treats me like I’m special…cares about me, really gets me.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I almost blew the best relationship of my life by having a fling with a mirage.

  ***

  When Rocket texts me that he has to cancel our Friday night dinner due to work, I freak. Does he know I met Tristan last night? Does he know we kissed? Will I lose my man because of the worst kiss ever?

  No: because of my duplicitous behavior. Needing to talk to someone about all my guilt, I arrange to have dinner with Olivia.

  At dinner, I tell her about Tristan and my rendezvous last night. Olivia thinks Tristan’s bad kissing is hysterical. She says, “I have a theory about beautiful men. They are either fantastic lovers since they’ve had so much practice or they’re terrible lovers, since they don’t have to try very hard.”

  “I can only compare kissing. But Rocket’s a wonderful kisser, and Tristan is terrible. I think they both proved your point.”

  Then she warns me, “Don’t ever tell Rocket about Tristan. You didn’t do anything wrong. You met up with a guy you went to school with, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, but that wasn’t my intent. Until he repulsed me I was hell bent on—”

  “But that never happened. It was leftover lust from college, misguided lust that never went anywhere.”

  “A kiss,” I say.

  “A kiss that repulsed you. Hell, if anything the reality of Tristan made you appreciate Rocket more.”

  “True, I’ve spent the last four months dating Rocket thinking it was a casual fling. My bad boy before I met the man of my dreams.”

  “And now?” she asks looking at me perplexed.

  “And now…. I thought Tristan was the man of my dreams. But he’s a jerk. I was taken in by his looks. What is it with me? Tristan, Carter, Bishop…I dated them because I thought that’s what I wanted.” What my grandma, auntie, and mother would want, I silently add. “I had this vision of who I would be with, who I would marry. But now….”

  “Yeah, reality doesn’t always match our fantasies.”

  “The thing is, my reality is fantastic, even better than my fantasy. It just looks different. How could I be so dense?”

  Chapter 31 – My Girl

  Rocket

  As I sit at work, I find myself staring at the screen while my mind wonders to Jennifer. I like her, really like her. She’s the Ying to my Yang. My mind starts running through the list of what I like and what I don’t like. The like list is really long. The what doesn’t work list all has to do with her pulling away from me. She’s the first woman I’ve ever had to chase. All my previous women chased me. Is that the problem?

  Since I can’t solve this dilemma, I go back to what I can solve, my software. I worked late into the night on Wednesday and Thursday. At three in the morning, I finally get my build to work. I’m exhausted as I head home.

  Sleeping in, I’m awoken from Jennifer’s ringtone, “My Hawaiian girl.” Yeah, kind of lame, but it fits. Managing to open up an eye I look at the phone.

  Jennifer: I’m at the coffee shop.

  Shit, did we decide on a time? I vow, first thing Monday morning I’m hiring someone to fix my road. I roll out of bed, slide my feet into flip-flops, then head down to pick her up.

  I feel like shit as I pull in and immediately see her little car. I get the door open and am barely out of the cab when she runs over, throws her arms around me, and exclaims, “I missed you so much.”

  Damn.

  Talk about running hot and cold.

  I give her a kiss that could melt an iceberg, because when she’s running hot I’m going with it. When we get back to my place I have one thing on my mind. Well actually two things, but I’ll take care of business first. She jumps down out of the cab and I scoop her up into my arms, she squeals.

  Damn, even exhausted that squeal goes right to my dick.

  Stalking directly to the bedroom, I plop her on the bed and as quick as I can pull off the T-shirt and boxers I was sleeping in. Now it’s time to get some of that soft sweet skin.

  Jennifer’s busy trying to get her clothes off as I grab her jeans and help her along. She winds her arms around me and buries her head into my neck. I run my hands over all her wonderful curves.

  “Hey, Jen, what’s with you?” I say.

  She pulls away from her tight hold, puts her hands on either side of my face and says, “You’re a really good man and I almost blew it. I’m such an idiot.”

  “Jen, you didn’t blow anything. I was stressed from work and—”

  I never get to finish my sentence because those sweet pink lips are on mine, and those fingers are in my hair. My exhaustion leaves me as my dick takes over and I get to make up for not being with her this week. I run my hands around all her soft curves, reaching down to make sure I get her off. The benefit of being with her for a while is I know what she likes and how to get her going fast…and sometimes real slow. I’m too tired for a long session, but with the morning light streaming through my window, her skin looks beautiful. It doesn’t take much before she’s moaning and arching her back. I like to wait until she’s at her peak, but hasn’t gone over her edge. When I feel she’s about there, I find my balance and thrust in. She feels good—warm, and tight. An amazing surge of energy runs through me as I join her in the orgasm. Then all energy leaves as I roll off of her, pulling her tight against me as I fall back asleep.

  Chapter 32 – Meeting James and Gary

  Jennifer

  Lying in the dark listening to Hartley lick herself makes my mind spiral. The last couple of weeks have been stressful. Rocket’s noticed the changes in my mood. I know it’s because I went from being consumed by the thought of Tristan Hall to being repulsed by the reality of him. I still feel guilty. But I’m taking Olivia’s advice, I never told Rocket about Tristan.

  I’m not sure how long I lie awake; the next thing I know there’s morning light streaming in the window and Rocket’s side of the bed is empty. I realize that I did get some sleep. I throw on one of Rocket’s nasty old T-shirts, since it’s the first piece of clothing I find, and then leave the bedroom. Entering the kitchen, I find Rocket standing in front of the refrigerator drinking orange juice right out of the container.

  Without even thinking, I admonish him with, “Ew, use a glass, now you’ve got germs all over the container.”

  He blocks me against the wall, giving me a deep kiss with lots of tongue.
With a smirk on his face, he puts his hands on my butt and says, “Now I got my cooties all over you.”

  “Yeah, I think you did that last night, too,” I respond.

  “Then why do you care about the orange juice?”

  “I guess because it looks unsanitary or makes me feel like you’re not sharing.”

  My mind is so twisted with meeting his family, I can’t think about why it bugs me that he drinks juice out of a container.

  As I meticulously make his bed and clean up all our clothes, he leans against the door watching me. Finally, he says, “What’s with the cleaning?”

  Surprised, I answer, “Your dad will be here soon. I don’t want it to look like we’ve had sex in this bed.”

  “We’ve been going out since the fall. I guarantee you, my dad thinks we’re having sex.”

  Now I’m horrified. What will his dad think of me? My face must show my thoughts since Rocket pulls me into his arms and says, “My dad will like you. He and Gary will be happy that I’m with a nice, sweet, pretty girl that I really like.”

  It’s the best thing he could possibly say.

  After my shower, as I finish up drying my hair, I hear the sound of a car’s tires on the dirt. In honor of his dad and Gary coming up, Rocket fixed his road. As I leave the Winnebago, I call to Rocket, who’s been in the studio. Rocket’s dad and Gary drive up in Tesla Model S.

  What? I thought Rocket was raised by hippies on a commune.

  An older guy exits from the driver’s side of the car. I have no doubt in my mind that he’s Rocket’s dad. Now I know what Rocket will look like in thirty-five years. He shares his dad’s tall, lean body, high cheekbones, and well-defined jaw; though his father’s features are more refined. His dad must have been drop dead gorgeous when he was younger. His elegantly graying hair is meticulously groomed, and he’s dressed in designer jeans and a well-pressed designer shirt. Another man, younger, shorter, and stockier gets out of the passenger side. He’s not classically handsome, but he, too, is meticulously groomed and dressed in expensive clothes in flamboyant colors. They both have this Ralph Lauren, just came off the yacht look about them, which is shocking since I never thought that Rocket came from money.