Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick #4)(66)

I was close, heading toward Grade Ten like a rocket.

“Say my name,” he demanded.

I opened my eyes, looked into his, he slammed into me again, his finger pressing deep and moving.

Grade Ten hit me with an overwhelming force and when it did, against his mouth I moaned his name.

* * * * *

I found there was an annoying side effect to having an orgasm, a side effect that Vance didn’t seem to share.

My body became acquiescent and my mind drifted to ridiculous thoughts like what I’d wear to my birthday party. I never worried about what I was going to wear.

Vance held me for awhile after we finished, me still astride him, him still inside me, my mind inventorying my closet and deciding I needed to go to the mall.

He knifed up so he was seated, me still astride him and I made a little mew because it felt kind of good. I could swear I felt him smile against my neck when he heard the sound.

He disengaged from me gently, pulling me up at the waist. He turned in the seat, set me on my feet in front of him and held me steady, hands at my hips, him still seated, looking up at me and I stared down at him.

God, he was beautiful.

He got up, pulled up his jeans and picked me up, again cradled in his arms. He carried me to bed, deposited me on the end of it and I had just enough wherewithal to crawl towards the pillows and collapse.

Vance got fully undressed in the hall and followed me up, pulling the covers out from beneath me and then over both of us. Then he turned me into his arms, tucking my face in his neck.

“Jules.”

“Mm?” I murmured, my mind had wandered again and I was thinking I might need more underwear and maybe a new pair of ass-kicking boots from the mall.

As well as my party outfit, of course.

“I didn’t use protection.”

At his words, my trip to the mall went out of my head with a “poof” and my body went rock solid. Then I unfroze, pulled back and looked at him.

He was smiling.

Smiling.

I stared at him like he was a lunatic. “What, exactly, is there to smile about?” I yelled. Then visions of Vance teaching a dark haired little boy how to feloniously disable an alarm popped unwanted into my head and I quit yelling and breathed, “Oh my God,” then I repeated it, “oh my God.”

He rolled me to my back, his body mostly over mine, he came up on his elbow, still smiling.

“Calm down,” he said.

“Calm… calm down? I’m always lecturing the kids about using condoms. I’m like… why didn’t you… oh my God.”

“I’ll use protection next time.”

My eyes narrowed. “Next time?”

He kissed me softly then pulled back. “Yeah,” he said casually.

“It might be too late,” I informed him, deciding to fight the “next time” fight later.

I mean, didn’t men flip out about these things too? His behavior was just bizarre.

He didn’t respond.

“What if it’s too late?” I asked.

“If it’s too late, you’ll make a good mother, if you remember to get a babysitter before you go out and crack heads.”

My eyes bugged out and my mouth dropped open. He was making jokes.

Making jokes.

He took in my bug-eyed look and I felt his body shake with laughter. Then I heard his laughter and my blood pressure skyrocketed.

“This is not funny, Crowe,” I snapped.

“Yeah it is.”

“What’s so damned funny about it?”

“You,” he replied, “you’re very cute, Princess.”

Um.

He did not just say that.

“Vance…” I said his name in my-word-is-law-and-you-are-in-trouble voice.

He ignored my voice. “What’s done is done, we can’t go back. There’s no point getting upset about it.”

“Excuse me, but –” I interrupted but he talked over me.

“Odds are I didn’t get you pregnant but if there’s anyone I know who could cope, it’s you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to cope,” I snapped.

He grinned. “Too late now.”

He thought this was hilarious.

I slapped his arm. “Stop grinning.”

He ran his fingers through my hair at the side of my head and then curled a bunch of it around his fist.

“Motherhood won’t be a challenge for you,” he went on, laughter in his voice.

Apparently he thought he was funny. I frowned at him. I did not think he was funny.

At all.

“Let’s see, Sunday night, you saved a runaway from a drug dealer,” he started.

“I did not, you did. He was kicking my ass.”

He talked over me. “Monday night, you brought down two dealers single-handedly.”

“Well, I did do that,” I allowed.

He kept talking. “Tuesday night, you had to take a break from keeping the streets safe for the citizens of Denver to go out with me.”

“Crowe –”

“Tonight, you began the healing process of three brothers who’d been torn apart by tragedy. They’re not blood, but brothers all the same.”

“Stop talking.”

“What’re you gonna do tomorrow? Cure world hunger?”