Rock Me Faster (Licks of Leather #4) - Jenna Jacob Page 0,16
inch of his flesh was all right, I was doubly fine.
Instead of giving in to my cravings, I simply nodded. “Thank you for…rescuing me.”
“I didn’t. I just pulled that sorry sack of shit off you.”
Clearly, Ross didn’t have a hero complex. In fact, he’d just shown a surprisingly humble side of himself. It didn’t take any of my special abilities to grasp the fact that Ross possessed far more emotions than he chose to share. Or that beneath his intimidating exterior was the heart of a gentle giant. I mentally started compiling these insights in two categories—fact and persona.
Still clutching my hand, he started walking again, this time in a slower pace that allowed me to stay in step beside him.
“What about you? You’re not doing all right and it’s my fault.”
“No, it’s Quinn’s. He likes to meddle in things…personal things…things he has no business fucking with.”
“In his defense, he’s only trying to help you.”
“I didn’t ask for his help.”
“I get the feeling you never ask, even when you need it.”
“You don’t know anything about me, princess.”
But I did. A few things he probably wouldn’t like or want to hear.
“I know you don’t really want to quit the band.” He didn’t refute my claim, merely sent me a sidelong glare. “Look, I’m not thrilled with this situation, either. Pretending to be something I’m not doesn’t give me the warm fuzzies. But if I can help the tabloids focus their attention on someone other than you, it’s well worth it.”
“Only because you and Quinn assume that I give a shit what those vultures print or say. I don’t.”
“What about Burk, Darren, Ozzy, and Syd? I’m sure they’d rather not have your fans thinking they’re on suicide watch instead of you guys working on a new album for their listening pleasure.”
As we reached the hotel, he turned and faced me. “Clearly, you’ve graduated from the Quinn MacKinnon Academy of Guilt and Manipulation. Tell me, were you valedictorian?”
His accusation stung, but I let it slide off me. Ross was simply lashing out. Clearly, it was too soon to teach him the difference between toxic anger and healing anger, but I had to start drawing my boundaries to keep my chi in healthy alignment.
“Why did you automatically assume I was trying to send you on a guilt—”
“Fuck. Me. You’re a shrink, aren’t you?” he spat, releasing my hand. His touch still lingered, humming in my palm and pulsing in my veins. “I don’t believe this. Quinn hired me a god—”
“I am not a shrink. I’m simply asking what you want out of life.”
A humorless scoff rolled off his lips. “Princess, the life I want doesn’t exist.”
“Why not?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Yes, it does. “I meant what I said at breakfast. I’ll pay you double…no, triple, if you’ll just go away and leave me alone.”
Though his offer was generous, I wasn’t the least bit tempted.
After spending these precious minutes alone with Ross, I finally realized I did know what I was doing. The something more that had been floating on the fringes of my psyche was now crystal clear.
Ross needed light and love to replace the inky shadows in his soul, but he needed peace and forgiveness far more. I didn’t know why his barriers were so thick and strong. I hadn’t been able to read him fully yet. But I couldn’t in good conscience leave him wallowing in darkness the rest of his life. Because I’d never met a living soul that needed saving more than Ross Walker.
“I can’t. I signed—”
“Yeah, yeah, a contract. I know. But contracts are made to be broken.”
“Maybe for others, but I don’t break promises.”
“Of course you don’t,” he groused. “Tell me something. If you’re so damn altruistic, why did you agree to play a part in Quinn’s little game?”
“I agreed, because”—you need my help—"it was the right thing to do.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face and scoffed dryly. “What part of this planet are you from?”
“Kentucky.”
Ross leaned down until his alluring mouth was nearly touching mine. The hint of coffee on his breath was muted by the scent of his sharp, woody men’s cologne that made my mouth water and my nipples grow hard.
“I’ll tell you the right thing to do…go upstairs, pack your bags, and put your sexy little ass on a plane back to Kentucky.”
His low, guttural growl ignited a needy throb between my legs.
Does he really think my ass is sexy?
Focus.
I was trying, but with his irresistible lips close enough for me to kiss and his