Rock Chick Regret

by Ashley, Kristen

  I realized my body was shaking.

  “Sadie,” Hector called and I looked up at him. For some reason, he changed the subject and informed me. “That blood and the hairs they found on your furniture, some of it was Ricky’s.”

  I didn’t know why he was telling me that but I nodded anyway.

  He kept talking. “Harvey went before the judge yesterday, bail was set. Donny and Marty left him in jail. They didn’t post bond.”

  I just kept staring at Hector, still not understanding why he was telling me all this.

  Hector’s fingers squeezed my shoulder and he curled me closer to him. “Mamita, I’m givin’ you the information you need to make a decision. What I’m sayin’ is, the remaining free Balduccis aren’t feelin’ any brotherly love. They aren’t takin’ care of Harvey and if Ricky gets locked up, it’s likely they won’t bond him out either. That means, neither of those two’ll hit the streets anytime soon. That also means the other two are happy to jockey for position with Ricky and Harvey out of their way. And you got enough to get a guilty verdict if Ricky’s stupid enough to fight the rape charge.”

  Finally I got it and I also had a good idea of which decision Hector wanted me to make.

  So I said, “Okay.”

  He curled me closer, his other hand went to my hip and his face dipped low. “No Sadie,” he said softly, reading my thoughts. “It’s your choice to make. I’m just givin’ you the full picture. It isn’t me who’ll have to sit on the witness stand and tell a room full of people what happened that night. It also isn’t me who’ll have to listen to whatever fucked up version of events Ricky’ll produce as his defense. You got the opportunity to avoid that; I’m not gonna take that away and no one in this room, or out of it, will judge. The Zanos are givin’ you a chance to decide what form your retribution will take. Only you can make it but you gotta make it now.”

  I didn’t like this. At all.

  On the one hand, I didn’t want to see Ricky again and even if all the evidence was stacked against him, he was crazy enough to fight it. That would stink.

  It would also likely mean I couldn’t move to Crete or I’d have to come back.

  On the other hand, everyone in that room knew what Vito meant by “disappear”. Which would mean if I picked choice number two, I was worse than Ricky Balducci. It would mean I truly was my father’s daughter. I wasn’t New Sadie. I’d never be a New Sadie of any kind. I would be Seth Townsend’s daughter and that’s who I’d stay, forever and ever.

  I uncurled from Hector and my eyes turned to Vito.

  “Please take him to the police,” I said.

  Hector’s arm got tight around my shoulders.

  Dom muttered a frustrated, “Fuck.”

  Ren expelled a heavy breath.

  Vito nodded.

  “I knew she’d pick that,” Dom muttered. “We should have –”

  Vito interrupted in a low, warning tone, saying, “Dominic,” but I was surprised Dom knew my choice even before I did.

  Dom fell silent and Vito turned to Ren. “Make the call, tell the boys.”

  Ren nodded to his uncle and walked to me. Regardless of Hector standing there, he leaned in, kissed my cheek, moved away, pulled his cell out of his pocket and left the house.

  Dom, Vito and I looked at each other.

  No one spoke.

  I decided it was time to move on to a happier subject that didn’t involve the Balduccis, my rape or anyone getting whacked. My gaze focused on Dom.

  “I hear Sissy’s pregnant,” I told him.

  Sissy was his wife. They’d had some hard times and were separated for awhile but, word was, they’d got back together and were starting a family.

  Dom stared at me, still angry at my decision then his face went soft and he muttered, “Yeah.”

  “Congratulations,” I told him on a smile. I’d met Sissy a few times though I didn’t know her well she always struck me as being really nice.

  “Life!” Vito exploded, making me jump. “Up and down, good and bad, birth and death, celebration and devastation. If you got any balls at all, you roll with the punches and get the fuck on with it, pardon my French.”

  My eyes moved to Vito, he was watching me and I could swear (no kidding!) I saw admiration.

  That’s when I realized he thought I had “balls”.

  I felt another warm, happy glow starting when Vito clapped and then put his hands up in front of him.

  “We’re through. I gotta get home. Angela worries.” He made a move and came to me. Hector let me go and Vito gave me another hug. When he moved away, he looked at me. “She told me to tell you she wants you to come to dinner. She’ll call. Bring Chavez and a big appetite. My wife, she cooks, it’s what she does,” he finished.

  Oh my.

  Dinner with Vito and Angela Zano.

  Before I could wrap my mind around that thought, Vito looked over his shoulder and jerked his chin at Dom. He clapped Hector on the arm and took off.

  Dom followed. He didn’t clap Hector on the arm but gave him a chin lift, shot me a weird look (still clearly upset at not getting to help Ricky Balducci disappear) but he put up a hand to squeeze my shoulder. Then he took off too.

  Hector locked the door behind them and turned to me. “You okay?” he asked.

  Without hesitation, I answered, “I’d give my trust fund to be living a life where every other second you aren’t asking me if I’m okay.”

  He bit his bottom lip and again I didn’t know what that meant, if he was trying to bite back a smile or hide his frustration. He walked to me, close to me, and his hand hit my neck, fingers sliding up into my hair, thumb at my hairline.

  “That day will come,” he promised quietly.

  My toes curled and my knees went weak at the look in his eyes. So weak, I had to grab onto his waist to stay standing.

  His head bent and his lips touched mine.

  Then his head moved a hairbreadth away and he said, “Let’s go to bed.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Severed Edges

  Sadie

  I woke again to a cold, empty bed.

  I laid there (my head on one, measly pillow) and allowed myself a lovely, snugly, warm moment at waking up in Hector’s bed before I threw back the covers and I replayed my actions of the morning before. This time, I had to put my pajamas back on (so I did, with the addition of Hector’s flannel shirt) and, with my stuff there, I added brushing my teeth and washing my face.

  By the time I hit the stairs, I heard men’s voices coming from the kitchen.

  I rounded the stairs and saw Hector through the kitchen door.

  He wasn’t in nightclothes, he had on jeans and a tight, black t-shirt but no belt. His feet were bare and his hair was wet which meant he’d been up long enough to shower.

  Now, how did I sleep through that?

  Seriously, this was getting weird. I never slept through anything.

  Maybe it was all the sex.

  I saw he had a coffee cup in his fist and his eyes were on someone who was talking but they cut to me when they caught me rounding the stairs.

  Even from the distance of across the living room and kitchen, I saw his eyes go lazy and his mouth form a small grin.

  At his look, my knees went weak.

  Last night, after the Zanos left, we didn’t go to bed to sleep. We went to bed and he made love to me (yes, for the third time!).

  The first time had been amazing.

  The second time, “working up to it”, meant slow and sweet and even more amazing.

  The third time, mostly (but obviously not totally) sated, Hector had taken his time, it was clear he felt like exploring and he did. What he didn’t feel like was allowing me to explore, so he didn’t. His undivided and prolonged attention produced an orgasm unlike any I’d ever experienced in my life.

  Amazing didn’t do it justice.

  The word to do it justice hadn’t been invented yet.

  On this thought, I walked into the k
itchen but I did it on shaking legs.

  Luke Stark was there, as was Native American Hottie, or who I knew now was Vance.

  I walked straight to Hector.

  This might have been rude. Perhaps I should have gone to Luke and Vance and offered my hand. Hector seemed in a mellow mood but even though these guys were pretty badass, the whole Hot Bunch/Rock Chick crew was a rather huggy lot. I didn’t want Luke or Vance to hug me in front of Hector. They were his friends but who knew what Mr. Mood Swing’s response would be and, after what happened yesterday morning with Ren, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Sadie, you know Luke. This is Vance Crowe,” Hector introduced as his arm slid along my shoulders and he tucked me into his side.

  I nodded and said, “Hi, Vance.” Then my eyes moved to Luke. “Hi, Luke.”

  One side of Luke’s mouth went up in a sexy, half-grin. Vance’s mouth formed a smile that was so confident it was breathtaking.

  I stared at them and it struck me that they were seriously hot. Tall, great bodies, clothes that defined their well-toned muscles. Vance had black, shiny hair pulled back in a ponytail at his neck. Luke had short-clipped black hair and a mustache that was shaved precisely down the sides of his mouth.

  I decided that Luke’s mustache was absolutely aces. Normally, a mustache like that on a man (in my personal opinion) would look pretty stupid. On him, it was fantastic.

  “Mamita,” Hector muttered and my body jerked as I realized, belatedly, I was staring at Luke Stark’s mouth.

  Oh no.

  I figured certain sure I was in trouble.

  Slowly, I looked up at Hector, expecting to be scorched by a Hector Glare.

  Instead, his lips were twitching and he looked like he was having trouble not laughing.

  Since I’d been awake for about five minutes and hadn’t had time to decide who I was going to be that morning (Ice Princess, New Sadie, Attitude Sadie, Take Charge Sadie, or some other Sadie perhaps After-A-Night-of-Loads-of-Amazing-Sex-with-Hector-Sadie), my personalities decided for themselves.

  Attitude Sadie clicked in and snapped, “What’s funny now?”

  I watched as he began to lose the fight with his hilarity.

  “You,” he answered.

  “What’s funny about me?” Attitude Sadie asked sharply.

  “Everything, mamita,” Hector informed me, his eyes still lazy, his smile blazing white, Attitude Sadie having no affect on him at all, whatsoever. “You’re hilarious,” he added.

  My eyes narrowed. “I am not hilarious. Especially not at six o’clock in the morning before I’ve had my coffee,” I retorted then, for some bizarre reason, I ranted on. “No. Wait. Never. I’m never hilarious. So, for the last time, stop laughing at me,” I finished on a haughty demand.

  “Lover’s spat.” I heard Luke mutter and he sounded amused too. My eyes moved to him upon the unwelcome reminder that we had an audience and embarrassment edged Attitude Sadie into the background as Luke continued, “Time to go.”

  Both Luke and Vance were still smiling. Luke’s half-smile had changed to engage his whole mouth and I tried not to look because, at the glance I caught, I knew a good look would definitely get me into trouble.

  I decided to attempt to switch to New Sadie because Attitude Sadie was making me the laughingstock of the Hot Bunch.

  Apparently everyone thought I was hilarious (except me).

  “It’s not a lover’s spat. I just need coffee,” I informed them, trying to sound casual and like I often wandered around in pajamas in a kitchen full of handsome men after a night of sex and a mini-attitude-rant.

  Still going for casual and confident, I pulled out of Hector’s arm and went to the coffee. I yanked out the pot, turned and held it up to the boys, asking sweetly, “Warm up? Luke? Vance?”

  This gesture, for some reason, produced more amused looks.

  Now, really, was it me?

  What was so darned funny about offering coffee?

  Finally, putting his mug down, Vance said, “Thanks, Sadie, got shit to do.”

  Luke followed suit.

  I wondered what “shit” they had to do at six o’clock in the morning.

  Did these guys ever sleep?

  I thought about asking the Rock Chicks, obviously they would know then I decided I didn’t want to know because their answers might scare me.

  They said their good-byes, so did I, and Hector followed them to the front door.

  I made myself coffee and tried to get my thoughts in order so I didn’t make an even bigger fool of myself.

  I had no practice with this kind of situation, waking up after a night of sex and a nocturnal visit from the Zano Family only to find early morning casual company in the form of friends.

  Who, I wondered, did? Except Hector, of course, if the last couple of days were anything to go by, this seemed normal for him.

  My thoughts were nowhere near ordered (but my coffee was ready) when Hector came back into the kitchen.

  I’d turned and leaned against the counter, the mug was mostly to my mouth, when, in another Smooth Hector Move, he got close, pulled the mug out of my hand and placed it on the counter beside me.

  “Hey!” I said, looking at my coffee mug. “I was drinking that!”

  My head moved around and, before I knew what was happening, Hector kissed me.

  It wasn’t a soft, sweet, morning kiss.

  It was a fiery, hungry, urgent kiss and, apparently unable to fight it (though, I had to admit, I didn’t try), I melted on the spot.

  It went from kissing to kissing and groping and then Hector pulled his flannel shirt off my shoulders and it fell to the floor. His hands went into my camisole at the sides then up my back, trailing heat everywhere they went.

  I followed suit, putting my hands up his t-shirt at the back, my fingers roving his hot skin.

  All of a sudden, his mouth disengaged, he stepped back and grabbed my hand, turning and dragging me behind him.

  I should have said something but I had to concentrate on running to keep up with his long strides. At the stairs, he took them two at a time, pulling me behind him.

  Not surprisingly, I stumbled. He turned and caught me, lifting me up, an arm at my waist, one at my knees, he spun and my legs went flying as he hitched me more safely in my arms.

  He walked directly to his bedroom and tossed me on his bed.

  Yes, tossed me on his bed!

  At this, I felt my nipples go hard and tingles flew through my body on a beeline between my legs where I felt an immediate, delicious wetness invade.

  I watched, my breath coming fast, as he tore off his shirt.

  I decided to follow suit and tugged off my camisole as he watched while undoing the top buttons of his jeans.

  Once I tossed my camisole to the side, he leaned over, put one hand to the bed and the other arm slanted across my waist and he yanked me up, my back arched, his mouth came down on my nipple and, without leading into it, he sucked deep.

  “Oh God,” I breathed, pretty certain sure I was going to climax on the spot.

  Instead, my hands went to the drawstring of my pajama bottoms and I tugged it. Hector’s mouth left me, he yanked down my bottoms, taking my panties with them and then shoved me back to the bed.

  My behind hit the bed, I kicked off my clothes but leaned forward, my fingers coming up, I undid the rest of the buttons on his jeans and pulled them all the way down.

  And I saw him, right there, in front of me.

  And I liked what I saw.

  And I wanted it.

  And it was fucking well my turn to explore.

  So I scooted to the edge of the bed, head tilted back to look up at him, his eyes blazing into mine, I wrapped my hand around him and took him in my mouth.

  “Dios mio,” he groaned then he said more stuff in Spanish, his fingers diving into my hair, pulling it away from my face and holding it behind my head in his fists.

  He let me explore, let me taste him for what felt like a nanos
econd (but was probably longer, it was just that I liked what I was doing and I knew Hector did too which made me like it all the more) then his hands went under my armpits, lifting me clean up into the air. My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck and then he went forward, I went back, both of us landing on the bed.

  Before I had a chance to get used to our new position, he was inside me and not like last night. This was different, harder, rougher, not in either of our control and therefore shocking in its intense beauty.

  He pulled my legs up at the knees until they were tucked against his sides and he kept slamming into me, one of my arms wrapped around his back, the other hand in his hair.

  We weren’t kissing and I heard our noises drifting around us, his low, deep grunts mingled with my softer whimpers. His face was in my neck and he was groaning there, breathing hard. My face was in his neck and I was moaning there, breathing hard and alternately tasting him and even (no kidding!) biting the flesh at his shoulder.

  Then, all of a sudden, he stopped moving, his body buried in mine.

  “Jesus, fuck, Sadie,” he muttered in my neck. “Fuck,” he repeated, his arms going tight. “Give me a second.”

  I was blinking, rapidly, surprised that he stopped and wanting the movement, the pounding, even our noises back.

  “For what?” I asked.

  His mouth came to my ear and he whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I closed my eyes and my arms went tight.

  “You aren’t hurting me,” I promised, I squeezed him with my thighs (and other parts of me besides) and I heard him make a noise low in his throat. The noise spurred me to coax, “Keep going.”

  “Hang on,” Hector murmured, still fighting for control even as he ground deeper (which felt good, good enough for me to remember that I wanted more).

  It was my turn to make a low noise in my throat then I repeated, “Keep going.”