Rookie Mistake (California Dreamers #4)

by Dakota Madison

  Before I realize what she’s doing she bends down and slides my cellphone across the sleek tiled floor. It hits the foot of one of the guys at the end of the table and comes to a stop at his feet.

  The guy frowns then bends down to retrieve my phone from the floor.

  I hurry over to him. “Sorry.” I grab my cell from his hands. “I’m such a klutz.”

  His brown eyes narrow as he gazes into mine. For a split second the intensity of his stare takes my breath away.

  The guy is a little more attractive than I initially gave him credit for. Or maybe it’s because the lighting is a little better on this side of the bar. He’s a bit rugged and rough around the edges. Not the type of guy I usually go for. I usually find myself with guys who are more polished and charismatic.

  This guy seems very reserved. The strong silent type. Obviously quite silent because he hasn’t said a word to me.

  Now what? Zoe said this would be easy and wouldn’t require conversation at all. She was wrong. It’s incredibly awkward that we’re just gawking at each other.

  “Thank you for picking up my phone,” I tell him.

  He just nods in return.

  My face is starting to heat. I’m sure I’m turning red with embarrassment. This was a bad idea.

  As I turn to walk away I see Zoe shaking her head and pointing at the guy.

  “Go back,” she mouths.

  I’m not going to go back just so I can stare at the guy again. I have no idea what to say. I’ve always been the one who was picked up by a guy. I was never the picker upper.

  I definitely have a better appreciation for what guys go through asking women out.

  When I glance at Zoe she pantomiming what I can only assume is: your place or mine.

  Does she really expect me to be that bold? I quickly scan the bar trying to think of something else, anything else, I can bring up to start a conversation.

  It’s a rundown country bar. I hate country music. I’ve got nothing.

  Then I notice a man join the three girls on the dance floor. I suppose I could ask the guy to dance.

  As I make my way back to their table I notice one of the other guys is now talking to my guy.

  I catch the tail end of their conversation as I approach the table.

  “She’s not really my type,” my guy says to his friend.

  “And what type do you need for an overnight rental? I think spreading her legs is the only requirement?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Dude, you haven’t gotten any action in months. You need to do something about those dusty balls of yours. And that girl looks ready, willing and very able.”

  I don’t know how ready and willing I truly am, but last time I checked I was still able.

  I clear my throat and both guys turn to face me. My guy’s friend elbows him.

  “I was wondering…” the words seem to be getting caught in my throat. I swallow then attempt to finish my sentence. “Would you like to dance?”

  “Go for it CJ,” his friend whispers loud enough that I can hear him.

  CJ doesn’t look quite as enthusiastic about the proposition as his friend does. Maybe his friend is the one I should be taking home instead. He’s not quite as attractive as CJ, but he’ll do for one night.

  Just as I’m about to change course CJ slowly rises from the table. He towers over me, which makes me a little nervous. My stomach knots. What am I thinking? All of the sexual assaults I’ve taken reports on over the last seven years and I’m actually considering going home with a complete stranger?

  It’s not that I can’t handle myself. I’ve had quite a bit of self-defense training and I carry a weapon. But why put myself in a dangerous situation?

  I’m about to tell him to forget it when he grabs my hand and pulls me over to the dance floor with him.

  His hand is rough and calloused, but it’s also warm. Does that mean he has a cold heart? Noah had cold hands, but his heart wasn’t warm at all so maybe that saying is complete crap.

  Just as we step on the dance floor a slow ballad starts playing. The other dancers scurry away leaving me and CJ alone.

  He doesn’t even hesitate to pull me close and start swaying to the music.

  I take in a trace of his masculine cologne. It’s a vaguely familiar fragrance that I can’t quite place. I wouldn’t call it sexy exactly, but there’s something comforting about the scent.

  There’s actually something very calming about CJ’s demeanor. Maybe it’s because I tend to be a little obsessive and high strung that CJ feels so sturdy and solid. It’s like nothing could shake him.

  When the song ends CJ doesn’t let go of me. I’m not sure what to do. He’s still swaying like the music in his head is never going to end.

  “I think the song is over,” I say as politely as possible.

  “Right.” The corners of his mouth upturn so slightly it’s difficult for me to tell if the facial expression is actually a smile.

  “Do you want a drink?” he asks.

  “Sure.” Maybe another beer will calm my frayed nerves.

  He takes my hand again and leads me over to the bar. We wait for several moments while the bartender serves a few of the other patrons. When he finally turns his attention to us his eyes land on my breasts.

  “What can I get for you?” he asks my ta-tas.

  I want to scream, “Dude, my boobs aren’t thirsty,” but I decide to let CJ handle it.

  He snaps his fingers right in front of the guy’s face. That seems to disrupt his obsessive gawking at my tits.

  The bartender looks up at CJ. “What would you like?”

  “Two Bud Lights.”

  CJ reaches into his pocket, removes a ten-dollar bill and places it on the bar.

  The bartender returns with two draft beers and places them in front of us. “Six dollars.”

  CJ points to the cash on the bar.

  “Change?” the bartender asks.

  CJ shakes his head. Generous tipper. Noah wasn’t. That should have told me something. Hindsight is always 20-20, or so they say, whoever they are.

  We sip our beers. CJ doesn’t seem to be one for small talk. He hasn’t even asked me my name. Maybe that’s a good thing. It’s not like I ever plan on seeing him again. I just want to use him and lose him.

  I take a big gulp of the beer. If I’m going to do this I’d better do it now. “Your place or mine?”

  He spits out the sip of beer he just took. That was great timing on my part.

  He actually looks flustered, and his cheeks flush. “What?”

  Shitty McBitty. I’m in a quandary. Do I repeat my obviously lame attempt at propositioning him or do I try to make it sound like I said something else?

  “I—um…” In my alcohol-induced haze my brain isn’t working as quickly as it normally does.

  I take another huge sip of beer in an effort to stall, but I can’t seem to come up with anything else to say.

  “Your place or mine?” I squeak out.

  He laughs. A very hearty belly laugh. The first time I ever proposition a guy and he laughs at me. That can’t be good.

  Maybe I can escape into the restroom and climb out of the window or something.

  Once he’s composed himself he looks into my eyes. “My place.”

  I down the rest of my beer and place the empty glass on the bar. CJ has barely touched his. He places the nearly full glass next to mine. “I’ll drive.”

  He takes my hand again. He might not be a man of many words, but he definitely isn’t shy when it comes to physical contact.

  Once we exit the bar into the cool night air I take in a deep breath to clear my lungs.

  “Nice night,” I say as I look up at the starry sky.

  “Did you see that?” CJ points into the air just as the tail end of a shooting star disappears into the night.

  “Did you make a wish?” I ask.

  “My wishes rarely come true.”

  “That’s sad.”


  “That’s life.”

  He pulls me towards a motorcycle parked between two massive pickup trucks.

  “Please tell me that’s not your vehicle.”

  “Sorry. I can’t do that. Have you ever been on the back of a bike?”

  I shake my head. I didn’t really intend to start now.

  He hands me a helmet. “You’re not driving. I saw how much you had to drink.”

  “Were you watching me?” I narrow my gaze at him.

  “Maybe just a little.”

  “I thought I wasn’t your type.”

  “I just said that in case you turned me down. I didn’t want to be disappointed.”

  “My wishes rarely come true either,” I admit as I put the helmet on.

  He climbs on the motorcycle and I climb on the back. When I lock my arms around his waist and hold on tight it seems too intimate a gesture for someone I just met, but then I remember where we’re going.

  To get even more intimate.

  ***

  I have to laugh when CJ finally parks his motorcycle in front of a small apartment complex. He’s just a few blocks from my apartment.

  So much for going out of town to find a one-night stand at a country bar. I ended up with a guy from my neighborhood. I wonder why I’ve never seen him before. I’m very observant of everything around me. Hypervigilance is a professional hazard.

  “Did you just move in?” I ask as I hand him back his extra helmet.

  He tilts his head and stares into my eyes. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I live right down the street. I’ve never seen you around the neighborhood before.”

  He nods. “I just moved down from LA. New job.”

  The last thing I want to do is get into a conversation about jobs. I don’t want him to know what I do for a living. Too many guys are intimidated by a female police officer. I don’t want anything to ruin what seems like a sure thing.

  “Let’s go inside,” I suggest.

  He nods and takes my hand. He’s on the bottom floor of the two-story building. His unit is one of four that are visible.

  “I have a roommate,” he mentions as he unlocks the front door. “But he’s still at the bar. I’m sure he’ll be there for a while.”

  “Shit!” I exclaim. “I forgot to tell my friend that I was leaving with you. I’d better text her so she doesn’t get worried.”

  I remove my phone from my pocket and send Zoe a quick text: I’m at his place.

  The text she sends back says: Use condoms and have fun.

  CJs apartment is sparsely furnished. The little furniture he and his roommate do have looks like mismatched hand-me-downs.

  “I was in the Army,” he tells me. “Eight years. My buddy let me move in until I get settled. Then I’ll get my own place.”

  “I’m sure you’ll like the area. It’s quiet.”

  “I definitely like quiet.”

  We stare at each other for a long moment. I wouldn’t say that there are sparks flying between us, but being with CJ feels comfortable, like lying on the beach on the most perfect summer day with the sun on your face and a light breeze blowing your hair.

  “Want a beer?” he asks.

  “Sure.” Anything to make the idea of having sex with him a little less anxiety inducing is a good thing.

  He opens the fridge and grabs two bottles of beer. He opens the bottles then hands me one.

  “Do you need a glass?” he asks almost as an afterthought.

  “I’m good.”

  He watches me as I take a swig of beer from the bottle. “So do you like country music?”

  “I hate it.”

  He grins. When he actually does smile it’s warm and genuine. “What were you doing at a country bar?”

  “Honestly?”

  He nods.

  “I was there to get laid.”

  “Are you being straight with me?”

  “I recently got dumped. My friend, Zoe, thought it would be a great idea to get me back in the saddle so to speak. The country bar was her idea. So was getting laid. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  He takes a long drag of his beer then sets it on the counter. He removes the bottle from my hand and places it on the counter next to his.

  My heart starts to beat faster as he leans over and kisses me.

  Okay, I take back what I said about there not being sparks between us. The guy knows how to kiss. He’s such a good kisser he makes my toes curl.

  His eyes search mine. “Do you like jazz?”

  That’s not the question I was expecting him to ask. I was thinking more like: want to see my bedroom?

  “I guess so. I prefer rock music.”

  “Music is the soundtrack of my life. I can relate everything that has ever happened to me to a song.”

  I follow him as he makes his way over to his sound system and turns it on. “I want a soundtrack to remember being with you.”

  A song that I’m not familiar with begins to play. It’s light jazz, very sensual. CJ pulls me close and kisses me again.

  I can feel that he’s getting aroused. I am too. Between the beer, the sexy music, and his very skilled lips on mine, every inch of my body is responding to him.

  We begin to slow dance in the middle of his living room. Our bodies move to the music as I surrender myself to his hungry kisses.

  The guy may not talk much, but he definitely knows how to seduce a woman. I feel like I’m falling under CJ’s captivating spell.

  “Let’s go into my bedroom,” he whispers into my ear.

  Excitement ripples through my body. I definitely want more of him: his lips on mine and his hands touching every part of my body.

  But do I want him this way? A one-night-stand?

  That is why I came to his apartment.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks. Worry lines appear at the edges of his eyes.

  I’m not sure what to say, because I’m still not sure about doing what I’m doing. I’ve always been the good girl, the perfect person who follows all the rules. It’s not surprising that I chose law enforcement as a profession.

  Being here—doing what we’re doing—makes me feel like a bad girl and a total rebel.

  “I’m not sure,” I admit.

  He places a hand on my cheek. My face heats in response to his touch. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “I do want to do it. That’s the problem.”

  My disclosure makes him laugh. “How is that a problem?”

  “This isn’t me.”

  “Sex is a beautiful thing,” he tells me. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I don’t usually go for overnight rentals. I prefer a long-term lease.”

  His lips touch mine like a whisper. His slow, intoxicating kisses linger and I savor every moment.

  Another series of slow, shivery kisses leave me weak and confused.

  My body is begging me to rush right into his bedroom while my mind is telling me to dash out the front door. The two parts of me have never been so out of synch before.

  When he nibbles on my ear then makes his way down my neck with butterfly kisses I feel like my mind is ready to surrender to my body completely.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Okay?” His penetrating eyes bore into mine.

  “Let’s go into your bedroom,” I clarify.

  I gasp as he sweeps me off the floor and into his arms. For someone who likes to be in control surrendering to him isn’t easy.

  His small bedroom is crammed with musical instruments. An electronic keyboard, a small set of drums and several guitars make it difficult for him to navigate around the bed.

  “You must really like music.”

  “It’s a big part of my life.”

  “You play all of these instruments.”

  “I try to.”

  I almost say: you’ll have to play for me some time, but then I remember this is a one-night stand. There isn’t going to be any
next time.

  He carefully places me on his bed then kneels down on the floor next to me.

  When our eyes meet he says, “Before we go any further I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. You still seem hesitant.”

  He’s much more perceptive than I expected him to be, and a lot more sensitive.

  “I want to do this,” I assure him, but my voice doesn’t sound as convincing as I would like it to be.

  When his lips touch mine any remaining apprehensions begin to melt away. As I give in to the hunger of his kisses I realize there’s no turning back. I’ve already waded calf deep into the water, I might as well dive right into the deep end.

  As I begin to unbutton my blouse he rises from the floor and removes his t-shirt.

  An audible “wow” escapes from my lips. CJ doesn’t spend all of this time playing musical instruments. He definitely puts some time in at the gym as well. His muscular chest is rock solid.

  It takes me a moment to realize I’m actually licking my lips.

  I’m rewarded with the hint of a smile. “See something you like?”

  When I remove my blouse his eyes look just as ravenous as mine.

  “See something you like?” I fire back.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He rips off his jeans and boxer briefs so fast I barely have time to process the action.

  As I squirm out of my pants he reaches into his nightstand and removes several condoms.

  “You’re awfully sure of yourself,” I tease.

  “Making up for lost time.”

  Part of me wants him to elaborate, but an even bigger part of me doesn’t want to get into a potentially serious conversation. The less we know about each other, the easier it will be to cut and run in the morning.

  His eyes rake the length of my body. “You’re beautiful.”

  I’ve never considered myself beautiful. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think I’m hideous. I’m not a paper bagger or anything like that. But I think calling me beautiful is a bit of a stretch.

  Looking at the sparkle in CJ’s eyes I think he’s sincere.

  When he lies in the bed with me I can feel the heat radiating from his body. The two of us definitely have chemistry, there’s no doubt about that.

  His arrow is already raised and ready to be shot. He just needs to make sure my target is set for his entry.

  As his firm hands find their way around my body I tingle at his persuasive touch. His lips aren’t the only part of him with mad skills. His hands are equally as gifted.