Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(4)

Then, one night, I melted.

I blamed lemon drops.

I’d gone out and had way too many lemon drops. They tasted like candy. I forgot they had so much vodka in them.

When I got home after a night with “the girls” (my semi-friends or, at least, the women my father wanted me to hang out with which was to say the women who enhanced his reputation – what could I say, everyone around my father had a job, that was one of mine), I’d been drunk.

I heard noise coming from my father’s study. It was late and the house was dark but this was not strange. My father worked odd hours. So I thought it was my father in the study.

I went to say goodnight like any good, dutiful daughter would do. Being a dutiful daughter was another one of my jobs and I did it both publically and privately. I didn’t have the courage to get on my father’s bad side not even behind closed doors. I knew what he was capable of, my mother didn’t leave for no good reason, trust me.

But it was Hector in my father’s study. Looking back, he was probably in there for reasons my father would frown on, frown on so much he’d have ordered Hector’s murder. No kidding, what did I say about my father’s bad side? I was being very serious.

I was too drunk to think twice about what I was doing. Not to mention I fancied that I was half in love with Hector (in the very, very back of my mind, the only place I let my true thoughts free).

Seeing as I was three sheets to the wind, the very, very back of mind was at the forefront for one shining moment. This allowed me to do something I rarely, rarely did.

I acted on impulse.

I threw myself at him.

And Hector caught me.

He didn’t even hesitate. I was all over him, he was all over me. We’d exchanged nothing but civilized pleasantries for months and that night, in my father’s study, we went at each other like animals in heat.

I think it went like this:

Me (with tilty head and stupid smile, all the while unsteadily walking toward him): “Hi.”

Hector (with cocked head and a small grin playing at his fantastic mouth as he watched me unsteadily walk toward him): “You okay?”

Me: “I will be when you kiss me.”

Oh God, just thinking about it makes me cringe but then again, it worked.

That was it. I had made it to him and was sliding my arms around his neck as I told him to kiss me. I pressed my body to his and he kissed me.

It was fantastic. It was so hot I couldn’t believe I didn’t melt on the spot. He was good with his hands, his tongue, his mouth, even his teeth.

Almost as good, he seemed to think I was good with those things too.

After awhile, he had me against the wall, my skirt up around my hips, his hand in my panties cupping my behind. His other arm was wrapped tight around my waist. Both were pulling me in deep, pressing me close to his hard hips. His mouth was at my neck, mine was at his, both my hands in his t-shirt, running up the hot skin of his back.

I didn’t think that it was tacky (my father would have thought it was tacky). I didn’t think anything. I couldn’t think anything. My entire mind was centered on Hector and what he was doing to me and how much I liked it.

Then Hector said, his voice a low, hoarse rumble against my neck, “I’ve been waitin’ months for you to get in the mood to go slumming.”

It was like someone had shoved me in a bath filled with ice.

He thought I was nothing but a society slut out for a quick, drunken f**k with the hired help.

I didn’t know what I was expecting. But for some reason, some incredibly insane reason, I expected more from him. The fact he didn’t give it to me cut through me like a blade.

I put my hands to his shoulders and pushed him away. I stared at him, eyes at Chill Factor Sub-Zero as I calmly pulled my skirt down.

Then I put all my effort into walking away without falling on my drunken face. That would kill any chance at a brilliant exit and at that moment I really needed to make a brilliant exit.

To my surprise, before I could make it three steps, I found strong fingers wrapped around my upper arm and I was jerked around to face Hector.

“Where you goin’?” he asked, his hair sexy and messy (because it was made that way by my hands), his black eyes glittering dangerously even as they were still hot on me.

I looked at his hand then back in his eyes, my heart was beating wildly but I ignored it (I had loads of practice at that too).

“Get your hand off me.” My voice was pure ice.

He let me go instantly.

I kept staring at him and I didn’t know why.

No, if I was honest, I did know why. I wanted to say something. I wanted to explain. I wanted him to know that who he saw was not me. I wanted him to know that it was all show, all an act, all because I was scared of my own, f**king father. All because I was scared of letting anyone close so they wouldn’t get the chance to hurt me. That I was really someone else. I didn’t know who but I thought maybe she was nice. Maybe she could be funny if given a chance. Maybe she could be interesting. Maybe she could laugh once in awhile. Maybe, if someone helped her to be free, maybe she could be someone worth something.

I wanted above anyone I’d ever met (outside Daisy) to say this to Hector Chavez. I didn’t know why, I just did.

While I was trying to find a way to explain, he spoke.

“Lotta things I thought you were; a f**kin’ cock tease wasn’t one of them.”