Rock Me Faster (Licks of Leather #4) - Jenna Jacob Page 0,48
a few minutes of his undivided attention. Or maybe Ross thought he was entitled to take what he wanted.
Ribbons of revulsion wended through me, extinguishing the flames of arousal.
Slapping at his hand, I tried to tug my dress down, but Ross merely brushed my fingers away before gliding his toward my warm, wet panties.
No. This was all wrong. Memories of the frightening man who’d assaulted me on the sidewalk sprinkled seeds of helplessness through my system. Fear, sharp and caustic sent my stomach swirling and my heart bouncing off my ribs.
Blades of betrayal sliced deep.
Ross’s actions made no sense. He’d saved me from the molesting monster this morning, yet now, he was acting just like him.
Releasing his jacket, I tried to shove Ross off me, but he was too big, too strong…too determined. Fear mounted. I slapped my palms, hard, against his pecs and jerked my head to the side, severing the ruthless kiss.
“Get off me,” I snapped.
Ross suddenly lurched back and raised his palms in the air, while he licked his lips as if savoring my taste. A half a heartbeat later, his whole demeanor changed. Ross clenched his jaw and sent me an arctic, condescending smile.
“You scared now, princess? You should be. You should be fucking petrified.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, Ross clutched my hand and practically dragged me toward the entrance of the building.
Anger spiking, mind spinning, lips tingling, and pride stinging, I stepped onto the sidewalk with him. The instant Bernie spied us, he hurried and opened the back door.
I didn’t wait for an invitation. Didn’t wait for Ross to help me into the limo. I simply slid onto the buttery-soft leather seats, crossed my arms over my chest, and silently stewed.
“You stayed a lot longer than I expected,” Bernie stated.
“We’ll talk about it in the car. I’m sure Sylvia’s upstairs watching to make sure you don’t step out of line.”
The words had no more left Ross’s lips than a shrill ring sounded from Bernie’s coat pocket. I watched through the open door as he retrieved the device and glanced at the caller ID.
“If it’s Sylvia, don’t answer,” Ross instructed. “Leave her. Quit right now. Go home, pack your shit, and let me fly you to Chicago. You can work for me.”
“I-I can’t let you support me, Ross,” Bernie countered while his phone continued to ring. “I can’t take money I haven’t earned.”
“Who says you’re not going to earn it?” Ross countered, his tone softening exponentially. “I’m not home much, but when I am, I might need a good driver.”
Bernie raised his head and gazed at the top of the building as if weighing Ross’s offer.
“When I leave here today, I won’t be coming back…ever,” Ross stated bleakly.
“Was it that bad?”
“Brutal.” Ross sighed heavily. “Come on, Bernie. Get behind the wheel, drive away, and don’t look back. You deserve so much better than her.”
“W-what about the limo?”
“She can send someone to pick it up from the hotel.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life. I left you with her the summer I turned nineteen. I’m not leaving you to deal with that cunt again.” Bernie’s phone finally fell silent. “Make up your mind, man. Time’s running out. She’s probably on her way down.”
“Are you sure about this, son?” Bernie asked, face stamped with indecision.
“Positive. I-I need you…I’ve always needed you way more than she ever has.”
I watched Bernie wipe a tear from his cheek, then a smile—brighter than the sun—lit up his face. “Then what are we waiting for? Get your ass in the car, and let’s get the hell out of here.”
With a muttered, “Thank fuck,” Ross slid in beside me and yanked the door shut.
I could hear Bernie—laughing like a loon—as he rounded the limo and hopped in behind the wheel. Then with a squeal of tires and a cloud of smoking rubber, the limo lurched forward.
Ross didn’t say a word, didn’t even glance my way. He simply sat like a statue and stared straight ahead. A whirlpool of conflicted emotions I’d never felt before swirled within and threatened to pull me under.
On one hand, I admired the big drummer for granting Bernie his long-awaited freedom. Yet, on the other, knowing that Ross’s kiss, still stinging my lips, hadn’t been designed to claim me with ruthless, thrilling arousal, but had been a premeditated attempt to scare me off was equal parts confusing, embarrassing, and irritating. So much anger was flooding my system, I didn’t know if meditation alone could