Sometimes it was hard to tell.
When the girls at Roni’s table saw me, the reactions were easier to read. I knew these women. Katie looked confused, like maybe I didn’t know where the fuck I was and she might need to offer directions. Jessa looked surprised, but then kinda not surprised. Devi said, “Now there’s a man looking to impress,” looking impressed.
“There’s a man looking to get laid,” Roni corrected her, crossing her arms under her chest and sitting back. She wore one of those softer-than-an-angel’s-ass sweaters of hers, light pink, with a hint of cleavage. Smoky makeup on her eyes, her black hair half-wavy and loose.
I seriously would’ve considered fucking her right there on the table if Katie and Jessa weren’t there to get a front row view of it—and I wouldn’t get an earful from Jesse and Brody about it later.
Anyway. Roni accepted the flowers. She even agreed to let me pick her up later, for dinner.
“If you’re one millisecond late, I’ll be unavailable for the next millennium,” she informed me.
“Understood.”
She lay the flowers on the table. “Too bad you broke my only vase.”
Well, shit. Kinda forgot about that.
“I have one you can borrow,” Jessa offered.
“Perfect!” Katie put in supportively. Devi sipped her tea, and no one said another word.
I stroked Nicky’s chubby little cheek with my finger; he was dead asleep in his baby carrier thing.
Then I got out of there.
“You done with Taze?” I asked Roni at dinner. We’d just ordered our food. I’d picked her up on time. Made sure I was early, actually.
I’d driven her to the restaurant where I’d made a reservation, pulled out her chair for her, ordered us a couple of steaks and cut right to the chase.
She looked at me over the wine glass that was halfway to her lips. “Yes,” she said. “I’m done with Taze.” Then she took a sip, set the glass on the table between us and squared her shoulders like she was preparing for an attack.
“That on my account?”
“It was on account of the fact that you were a millimeter away from sliding your dick into me, yes,” she said, looking straight in my eyes. “And I’m not that girl.”
“What girl?”
“The one who lets another guy fuck her while she has a boyfriend.”
“I know you’re not.” I did know. She’d made that pretty damn clear to my ass seven years ago.
She left that one alone.
“Anyway. It’s not like Taze and I were getting married anytime soon.”
“You were right to break up with him,” I told her.
“Hmm.”
“You know he had other women.” It was a statement, not a question. I wasn’t gonna insult her. Roni was sharp; she had to know what Taze was about.
She said nothing for a long moment as she sipped her wine. Then: “And you don’t?”
“I’m not your boyfriend.”
“And if you were?”
“I don’t cheat.”
She looked totally unimpressed with that. “Easy for anyone to say. Harder to live.”
“What’s hard?” I said. “The thought of looking into a woman’s eyes, a woman who thinks I’m faithful to her, and lying to her… it’s fuckin’ disgusting.”
“You’ve never lied to a woman?”
Well, fuck. She had me there.
I didn’t usually lie to women.
I didn’t like to lie to women.
But fuck yeah, there were times I’d been dishonest with a woman. For a whole fucking plethora of reasons having to do with Kings business, the band, security, my privacy, other people’s privacy.
And my own fucking protection.
I had a right to protect myself, didn’t I?
“Are you lying to me about Taze?” she asked.
“No. You want proof?”
“You have proof?”
“I can get proof, you want it.”
“What, like pictures?” she said. Playing tough, when she was clearly uncomfortable with the whole subject. When Roni was comfortable, she got all curvy and sexy. Right now, she could’ve had a steel rod right up her butt, she was so stiff.
“Whatever proof you want.”
Instead, she changed the subject. “Have you ever lied to me?” She stared at me like she was waiting for me to say no, just so she could catch me in another lie.
“Most definitely,” I said.
That caught her so off-guard she actually laughed, sort of. “What have you lied to me about? And don’t say MC stuff because I know that and I don’t care. I mean important stuff.”
I didn’t agree with her that “MC stuff” or the lies that went with it were unimportant. But I let that go.
I took a sip of my drink and considered how to answer.
“One time, at a party, you asked me if Piper was coming and I said he wasn’t, but he was.”
She cocked her head a little, jade eyes narrowing at me. “Why would you lie about that?”
“Because I didn’t want you hooking up with him.”
She stared at me.
I stared right back.
“Maybe a few months after we’d met,” I said, “you asked me if Zane ever said anything about you when you weren’t around. I told you he didn’t. That wasn’t true.”
She just kept staring at me. She didn’t ask me what Zane had said about her, but I told her anyway.
“He said you had cocksucking lips.”
She broke eye contact. She stared at her wine, tapped her fingernails on the glass. They were a deep burgundy, almost black, but classy-looking, different from the flat black she’d worn on her nails sometimes as a teenager. I remembered those details about her more than I’d thought I did. I’d always paid attention to the details when it mattered, and being close to her, they were all coming back.
Wasn’t sure if I liked that yet or not.
“You didn’t want to tell me that?” she asked.
“Fuck, no.”
“Why?”
“Because it pissed me off.”
Finally, she looked at me again. “Why?”
“You sure you want honesty, darlin’? Some people say they want it, they don’t.”
“I don’t ask questions I don’t want the answers to. When I ask you a question, yes. I want an honest answer.”
Okay, then.
“I wasn’t sure if he meant it as some fucked-up compliment, or if you’d actually sucked his cock. Either way, like I said. It pissed me off.”
“I didn’t suck his cock,” she said, her voice kinda small.
It was pathetic, probably, how relieved I felt to hear that. I knew she’d been with Zane, once, years after that. But if she’d actually sucked his cock at that point, it would’ve meant she’d done it when she was sixteen and barely knew him, and for whatever reason I really didn’t want that to be true.
The server approached and laid out our meals. When he was gone, she said, “This looks good.”
I ignored the food. I hadn’t taken my eyes off her, and she was starting to look uncomfortable with the attention. Her posture had softened up a bit, but she still looked tense.
“You once asked me if I wanted to fuck you,” I said.
Her eyes flashed up to mine.
“Actually, you asked me twice. The first time, I said yes. The second time, I said no. That was a lie.”
Her gaze dropped. She picked up her fork and started poking at the veggies on the side of her plate. “I’m sensing a pattern here.” She sounded bored, and like she wanted me to stop talking.
“I once told you I’d never get over you.”
Her eyes met mine again.
“I said ‘some guys’ would never get over you. Some bullshit like that. But by ‘some guys’ I meant me. I figured you knew that, though.”
She stared at me.
“But that was a lie, as it turned out,” I finished. “I got over you.”
&n
bsp; Yeah, so maybe I was needling her.
Poking her.
Wasn’t her fault that sitting across a table from her had me so off-kilter. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to make it all that comfortable for her, either.
Had enough time since we fucked a couple nights ago to think things through. Think about how I wanted to fuck her again, yeah. But also, think about a lot of other things. Like the way things had gone down between us in the past. Things I’d learned about her—the hard way.
Time had passed, yes.
We’d both changed, maybe, and maybe we’d both stayed the same.
But she wanted to be in my life now, in any way—even just working with Dirty—I was gonna make damn sure she knew she wasn’t gonna play me.
She put the cloth napkin that had been on her lap on the table and said, “Maybe this dinner was a mistake.”
“Why?”
She stood, and I reached for her. I wrapped my hand around her wrist. She looked away, her jaw hardening.
“Roni.”
She looked down at me, at my hand on her wrist. “This,” she said, and her eyes flashed to mine. “Between us. This is just sex, right?”
“Sit down.”
She sat, but she shook my hand off her arm.
“Maybe we should be clear,” I said. “Maybe I gave you the wrong idea.”
“What, the flowers and the dinner and the creepy conversation? What kind of wrong idea could I possibly get from that?”
“Not the dinner. The other night. I should’ve been clear, up front. I’m not looking for more than sex.”
And yeah, that was a lie.
I could feel it every fucking moment I was in her presence; the girl was getting under my skin.
Again.
Yes, I’d gotten over her. Eventually. When she was finally out of my life. Over time, I’d managed to forget all the things that were so impossible to ignore when I was in a room with her.
Almost.
But then I saw her again, at Jesse’s wedding, and within forty-eight hours I had my dick in her.
So there was that.
Truth was, I hadn’t yet decided what I was looking for when it came to her. But while I figured it out?
Sex would do just fine.
She stared me right down with her gorgeous green eyes. “You give all your casual fucks flowers and a meal?”
“I give them respect. Thought the flowers were warranted, given that I stood you up. And we both need to eat.”
“This doesn’t blur the ‘just sex’ line for you?”
“Why? Because we’re both human and we ate a meal together? No. Does it blur the line for you?”
“No.”
Christ. It was like we were feeling each other out before a fucking cage match.
I did not want to knock her on her ass, but I didn’t want her killing me either. And between her asshole boyfriends and her sexual bucket lists and her Fuck me harder… Make me feel it… this woman was definitely gonna be the death of me, one way or another, if I didn’t keep my head.
“Then let’s eat,” I growled.
We ate.
We kept the peace, somehow, while making small talk about Dirty, about her job in real estate, about the New Year’s Eve event.
After dinner and a few drinks, I realized she was maybe getting drunk.
Again.
We’d already been here, done this, two nights ago, and I really didn’t need to drink half a bottle of whiskey to get it up for her. I’d take the sex, but the hangover could go.
“Easy,” I told her as she downed another glass of wine. “Wouldn’t want a guy to take advantage.”
“I am not afraid of you,” she informed me, setting her empty glass aside. She fixed her green eyes on me. “I’m not scared of you, Jude Grayson.”
“No? What scares you, Roni Webber?”
“Me,” she said, shocking the hell out of me. “Myself. Sometimes I don’t trust myself and that is so, so scary. You ever have that feeling?”
I stared at her. It still surprised me how this girl could be so open, so fearlessly honest, and then two seconds later so fucking impossible to read. “No.”
“You always trust yourself?”
I gave that some thought. “Yes.”
“So… then what happens when you make a mistake? When you realize you were wrong?”
“Then I get pissed at myself and kick my ass.”
She stared at me, and a soft smile curved her gorgeous lips. “Cream soda?”
She remembered; my dumbass vice.
“Yeah,” I said. “Cream soda.”
“Hey. Have you ever had a Bartender’s Cream Soda?”
“The fuck is that?”
“Oh, it’s so good.” She was waving her hand in the air, trying to get our server’s attention. “It’s got cherry whiskey and banana liqueur…”
“Sounds disgusting.”
Within a few minutes, we had two tall cocktails sitting in front of us. We sipped, and she was right.
“Shit. That does taste like cream soda.”
“I know. It’s dangerous.”
I watched her sip her drink, her gorgeous lips wrapped around the straw. They were red and shiny as fuck. I could’ve sworn she’d slathered on more lip gloss when she went to the ladies’ room.
Lip gloss that said Insert dick here.
“You know, you really don’t have to get wasted to have sex with me, darlin’.”
“What?”
“Or do you?” I watched her sip her drink and gnaw on the straw a bit with a slight smile. “Am I that bad?”
She laughed. “No, Jude. You’re not that bad.”
“There something you need to tell me? Am I one of those guys who always hurts a girl or has no rhythm but no one ever tells him?”
Her smile faded. “No. You’re not that.”
“Good.”
“Drink,” she said.
“You don’t have to get me drunk either,” I told her. “Or high.”
“No?”
“All you’ve gotta do is say the word, and I’ll be your fuck buddy, V.”
“My fuck buddy?”
“Yeah.”
“And what does that mean, exactly, in your mind?”
“It means anytime you want it, whenever, wherever, you tell me, and I give it to you. No drama. No games. No booze necessary.”
“Hmm,” she said.
Then her eyes darkened and her face flushed with a look that was pure sex, as whatever-the-fuck went through her mind… and my dick throbbed.
“How about right now.”
Fuck, yeah. “Where?”
She thought about it, catching her full bottom lip in her teeth and twisting a bit. “In your car.”
“Yeah. Just let me clear up…”
While I got my wallet out, she said, “I want you to take me somewhere. I don’t care where.” I looked up at her; she wasn’t touching me across the table, just watching me with sex in her eyes. “I want you to park. I want you to take out your dick and let me blow you.”
Yup. My dick was all for that.
She got up from her seat, came around the table and slid right in next to me, perching on the edge of my seat, her hot, curvy body in her little black dress pressing right up against me.
“Before you come,” she breathed in my ear, “I’m going to stop. Then I’m gonna start again, so slowly, and I’m gonna do it again and again until you’re pretty much ready to die, and then I’m gonna make you come.”
Fuck me. My dick was aching in my jeans. “Is that so?”
“Mmm.”
I looked into her eyes. “That what you want, darlin’?”
“That’s what I want.”
I’d driven maybe four blocks from the restaurant when I caved. I spotted an empty parking space along the street and pulled over. It was a metered spot, but I wasn’t getting out to plug it.
Roni’s hand was already in my jeans and she was working my zipper down.
&n
bsp; I’d planned to take her somewhere more secluded, but that wasn’t happening. We were in Gastown, it was raining a little, and this part of downtown Vancouver was dark as fuck at night when it was raining, the streets and sidewalks black and seeming to absorb all the light. There were people on the sidewalks, but most of them were in a hurry to get out of the rain, ducking in and out of the restaurants and bars along the street.
Honestly, I didn’t really care all that much how private this was or wasn’t—for myself. But call me old-fashioned; I didn’t love the world seeing what Roni was about to do to me.
“Take it out,” she said, the second I turned off the car.
I took it out. I was already totally fucking hard and she went down on me immediately but slow, sliding those perfect cocksucking lips of hers over my head, wet and tight.
“Fuck, V…” I groaned, easing back in my seat. I glanced out the windows but I was pretty sure no one could see much through the rain on the glass anyway. “Yeah, babe…”
She eased herself down, taking me in halfway, twirling her tongue around, then sliding back up to the tip.
Fucking teasing me.
Then she did it again, deeper, but not all the way to the base, sliding her tongue around as she went. Getting me wet. Taking her fucking time.
I gathered up her soft black hair and wrapped it around my fist, holding it out of the way so I could watch. I watched her devour my dick, slowly, over and over, working her way a bit deeper each time. Her hand wrapped around the base of my shaft as she fed me into her mouth.
Until she suddenly had my cockhead jammed into the back of her throat.
I groaned, a fucking grateful, pleasured sound.
“Hmm.” She moaned a little and eased off again, and I ran my free hand gently down the back of her neck.
I don’t deep throat.
That’s what she’d told me, fucking years ago. Right before she deep-throated me. Well, I deep-throated her. Pushed my dick deeper into her than she’d ever let another guy do. Pretty sure I made her like it, too. Made her touch herself while she did it. Made her make herself come.
I ran my hand all the way down her back now, over her tight ass in her dress… but I couldn’t quite get to her pussy. In response, she scooted off her seat onto her knees on the floor.
Dirty Like Jude: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 5) Page 17