Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)(19)

“Yes.”

A small hesitation. “I could really get used to that other side of you.”

There it was. That was what scared him.

A horrible twisting took place in his chest.

James didn’t sleep that night.





Chapter Six



James had been quiet all morning, but Lita wasn’t fazed. She knew this man well. With James, brooding was just par for the course. Not to mention? Hot as shit.

His Broodiness sat in the driver’s seat, once again in a pair of faded jeans, this time with a fitted, white T-shirt that hugged his biceps. A hint of his boxer briefs was visible around the waistband of his pants and she wanted to lick the entire perimeter until he begged for her to go lower. Yeah. After James had given her the Orgasm To End All Orgasms last night, Lita wanted a one-way ticket back to bed. She wanted to be roughed up and held down. Wanted more of his disrespectful words issued beside her ear. And she wanted it now.

Unfortunately, James had already been fully dressed when he woke her up by opening the window blinds in a loud zip. Thanks to the haziness of sleep, she’d made a clumsy attempt at seduction by fluffing her hair and winking. He’d left the room like wolves were on his heels, saying he would wait in the car while she got ready.

“You forgot about the rule,” Lita said, donning her Ray-Bans.

“Which rule is that?”

Wowee. Had his voice always rumbled like that? It blew cool air across her senses, creating goose bumps in its wake. She could hear it saying plaything in the darkness. “Uh, you know. The one. Never wake a musician before noon.”

His lips twitched. “That rule only applies on the tour.” He slid a glance—not his first—across the car’s console to where Lita’s legs were crossed. Maybe she was playing dirty with the cut-off jean shorts, but hey, it was a hot day outside. She totally got away with it. Although, she really hoped James didn’t let her get away with it.

The only way for her plan to succeed was persistence. And after last night, after she’d gotten to the bottom of his fears, her new goal was…a relationship. One that didn’t have secrets or hidden insecurities. One where they could be themselves without being afraid of hurting one another. If she’d approached the situation with James with any sort of rational thought earlier, instead of acting out, they might have gotten to this point sooner. Instead, she’d damaged his trust. Now she would make up for it by handing over hers. I trust you. I trust you. If she proved those words through her actions, he would start to believe it. He had to, right? The alternative was going back to Los Angeles without James and the very possibility of that reality…honestly, it terrified her to think about.

“Remember that time I woke up Sarge with a water balloon?”

Lita had to catch her breath when James gave a rare smile. “Oh, I remember. He slept with one eye open for a month.”

“Hid my sticks as payback, too. Right before a show, the bum.” They coasted to a stop at a red light. “I kept expecting him to balloon me back while I was asleep, so I kept one loaded underneath my bunk.” She shook her head. “The attack that never came.”

James drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Oh, he tried. I stopped him.”

Lita frowned. “Why?”

Silence passed while he pulled through the intersection. “I didn’t want anyone to see you sleeping. They weren’t allowed in the back of the tour bus.”

A low pulse started just south of Lita’s belly button. “Is that why you were always the one to come wake me?” James said nothing, jaw flexing as he watched the road. Lita wasn’t letting it go, though. “Did you always want to get in bed with me?”

“Every. Time.”

Lita’s nipples hardened inside her bra. “I would have welcomed you,” she breathed, reaching over to trace the waistband of his jeans with her index finger. “I used to touch myself thinking about it. You slipping into my bed when everyone was asleep. That big hand covering my mouth to keep me quiet so no one would hear.”

“Jesus, Lita.” He adjusted himself with a strangled groan. “We’re not talking about this now. I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“A meeting?”

“Yes. An important one.” His gaze pinned her back against the seat. “You wouldn’t be wearing clothes right now unless I had a good goddamn reason.”

“Oh. Point made.” She rolled down her window, allowing the breeze to cool her heated face. “Who is your meeting with?”

His voice was strained upon answering. “A realtor.”

Lita shot forward in the passenger seat, pressure already beginning to burn behind her eyelids. “Why? You’re not…m-moving here. James.”

“No,” he said quickly, shooting her a worried look. “No, my parents moved into an apartment closer to town. My mother asked for help selling the house.”

Lita tried not to be obvious with her relief, but slumping down into the seat like her puppet strings had been cut probably gave it away. With her heart so firmly lodged in her throat, it took her a few minutes to speak again. “Is this the house where you grew up?”

“It is.”

Pleasure washed away the remaining tension. Coming to Modesto had been the best decision she ever made. Or maybe just the first good one. Not only was she making headway with President Broody, she would actually get a peek into his past. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how starved she was for information about where he’d come from. What events had brought him to her that night in the hotel bar?