Rock Hard (Rock Kiss #2)(85)

“I said Richard was a pencil-dicked, scum-sucking f*ckwit.”

A dramatic pause, and then Molly whooped. “That’s my girl!” A rustling sound followed, with Molly whispering, “Go back to sleep. I’m going to talk to Charlie.”

More rustling announced that Molly was moving about. “What precipitated this awesome assassination of pencil-dick’s character?” she said after a few more seconds.

Charlotte told Molly about the letter. “All this time, I’ve been afraid of him, when he’s a coward who could only feel good by attacking a woman half his size.” Seeing his weaselly words had made that truth crystal clear to her. “I think part of it is because I’m not vulnerable anymore.” The grieving, insecure girl Richard had known was gone—in her place was a woman who tangled with a far stronger man on a daily basis. “He can’t get at me by attacking my weaknesses.”

“I’m proud of you,” Molly said, fierce in her support.

Charlotte smiled. “I’m proud of me too.” It had taken her years, but she’d finally stripped Richard of his power. “Whatever happens, I’ll never again fear him.” She wasn’t na?ve enough to think the panic attacks would simply cease, but surely her conscious realization of Richard’s true nature would have an impact on her subconscious?

“I hope the other prisoners hurt him while he was in prison,” Molly muttered. “It’s what he deserves.”

Coffee having finished perking, Charlotte poured herself a cup, then took out one of her “angry muffins” as Gabriel had named them, and curled up in a chair at the kitchen table. “I think I should move into Gabriel’s apartment.”

“Whoa.” The sound of liquid being gulped on the other end of the line. “What brought this on?”

“I wanted to prove my independence,” Charlotte said, her eyes on the bill she’d left on the counter. “But I’ve already done that. I’ve lived here on my own, had my own job, paid my own bills.”

“You won’t get any arguments from me.”

“I guess I just needed to figure that out myself.” Charlotte took a bite of her muffin. “The thing is, I never really wanted to live alone anyway. I want to be with Gabriel.” She thought of everything she and Gabriel had already shared and of what was still missing.

“I want to feel Gabriel’s hand on my nape, Molly,” she said softly, her eyes hot with emotion. “I want him to tug my hair and pin me down and tie me up if that’s what we want. I don’t want Richard to have stolen that from me. I don’t want his ugly shadow on any part of my life.”

No more. No more.




GABRIEL GOT A CALL from Charlotte while he was shaving after his post-run shower.

“I’ll be late,” she said.

“Why?”

“I’m sleepy.”

A ringtone buzzed in his ear a second later. He thought about calling her back, but she had sounded adorably sleepy, so he let it go. It wasn’t as if Charlotte had ever taken a sick day. She didn’t today either, coming in at eleven.

“Damn it, Charlotte!” he yelled when he saw her. “Where the hell do you keep the Paxton files?”

“Right here.” Putting down her fancy coffee but not sitting, she bent to her computer and e-mailed the file to him. “I’ve sent it to your tablet.”

He put his hands on her hips and tugged her close. She was wearing a dark pink dress with a square neckline and tailored lines, her hair in a prim bun; she looked so neat and tidy that he just wanted to mess her up. Restraining the urge, he nibbled at her throat instead.

She pushed gently at his shoulder even as her pulse thudded against her skin. “Not here,” she murmured but pressed a quick kiss to his jaw before stepping back.

He released her, his entire body reluctant, but his mind reminding him of where they were. “Yeah. I have a conference call in two minutes.”

It was hours later that he finally took a breath, to find Charlotte standing in his office doorway, frowning at him. “Did you come back to work after leaving me last night?”

“Yes.”

Her frown deepened. “And you’d just got back from your run when I called you this morning?”

“Your point, Ms. Baird?”

“You can’t have had more than four or five hours of sleep at most. You need to break for lunch at least.”

“No time.” Having already folded up his sleeves, he now tugged off his tie. “Can you order me something?”

She didn’t move. “This is not healthy.”

“Just order the damn meal, Charlotte.”

She did and, to his surprise, wasn’t mad at him for snapping at her. When he pointed that out, she rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been working with you for months, remember?”

However, the next time she told him to stop working, there was definite temper in her eyes.

“Enough, Gabriel,” she said. “You’ve been working nonstop since before I came in. That’s not good for you.”

“I’m a big boy.” Scrawling his name on a contract, he held it out. “Make sure that gets in the morning mail.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” he said absently, trusting Charlotte to get things done.