Chapter 4
Rosie heard the throaty roar of Shay’s old muscle car and looked out the window in time to see her pull up and get out.
God, she was stunning. Rosie couldn’t believe she’d actually managed to seduce Shay into coming home with her once.
She really didn’t think she’d get a repeat performance, even it was a midnight booty call.
She didn’t know what had possessed her to be so sexually aggressive last Saturday—that so wasn’t her style at all—but Lori had inspired her.
Rosie had watched her masterfully marionette Gabe into a giant marshmallow soldier-puppet under her strings, and it’d been wonderful to see her friend happy again.
If the catalyst for that was Gabe, so be it.
She seemed harmless enough, and if her puppy dog eyes that night were anything to go by, Gabe would probably walk over a bed of nails rather than hurt Lori.
And Rosie had Gabe to thank for more than just helping Lori recover from her ex-wife, because Gabe came with Shay…
Shay looked up to the window, and Rosie’s breathing quickened at the vision standing before her.
She curled her finger to encourage Shay to come closer.
Rosie had no idea if this was going to turn into a regular casual thing, so she was determined to make the most of it now.
She’d been pretty drunk the first time, and she wanted to appreciate Shay fully sober.
She shook off the tiredness of the day, invigorated by the thought of getting her hands on Shay again, and buzzed her in.
Rosie opened the door then closed it. She didn’t want to seem too eager. But then, Shay had been the one to initiate this, so maybe eager was okay.
She opened the door again and leaned against the door jamb before adjusting her satin nightshirt to reveal more cleavage. Rosie looked across the hallway. If her neighbor looked through his peephole, he’d get quite the show. She pushed away quickly and closed the door behind her.
What was the etiquette for these things? She’d had plenty of women who’d turned out to be one-night stands, but she’d never been a booty call before. Did they have drinks first? Should she have prepared some pre-sex nibbles for fuel? Would a cheese platter be sexy or stinky?
The light rap on the door interrupted her panic, and she opened it instantly, not stopping to think whether she should’ve made Shay wait or not.
She chided herself. You didn’t make a woman like Shay wait for anything.
“Hi, beautiful,” she said, willing the sexually aggressive version of herself back into her body.
Shay’s eyebrows quirked as she swept her gaze over Rosie’s body, making Rosie consider the reality of spontaneous human combustion.
“Hey.” Shay came in without invitation and closed the door behind her. She put her hands on Rosie’s hips and pushed her back against the wall. “Nice shirt,” she whispered and kissed Rosie’s neck.
“Are you hungry? I’ve got leftovers from last night.”
“I’m not hungry for food,” Shay said, her breath hot against Rosie’s skin.
No food. No conversation. Noted. She gasped when Shay raked her nails up her thighs and hooked her finger into the waistband of her lace panties.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” Shay slipped her hand into Rosie’s hair and tugged gently before kissing her hard and hot.
Rosie had been thinking about it since they’d parted on Sunday afternoon but saying that out loud was bound to be too eager. Then the feel of Shay’s full lips on hers melted any other thoughts away. And as Shay gently guided her down the hallway to her bedroom, Rosie didn’t want to think at all.
She just wanted to feel.
Rosie tilted her head slightly to enjoy the rear view of Shay as she padded to the bathroom completely naked.
She bit her bottom lip and sighed contentedly.
Aside from grasping the initial etiquette, booty calls were surprisingly simple.
Rosie’s only concern now was how she could make them a regular occurrence.
She slipped her hand under the covers to touch herself; she was deliciously sore—in a good way and not from overly long nails, which Shay had been quick to point out that she’d attended to—and she wanted more of that.
Much more. Shay had stamina the likes of which Rosie had never come across.
This time though, Shay hadn’t been interested in receiving, so Rosie had to call time out after she’d hit double figures in the orgasm department.
The toilet flushed, and Shay emerged from the bathroom to treat Rosie to a full-frontal delight.
“That was unexpected…and wild,” Rosie said, hiding her disappointment at Shay retrieving her discarded clothes and beginning to redress.
“In a good way?”
From the way she asked, it was clear Shay didn’t expect a negative response. Why would she? If their two encounters were indicative of Shay’s prowess, she’d probably never had a negative response. “In a very good way.”
Shay shimmied into her skinny jeans and sat on the side of the bed. Rosie glanced at her phone; a photo of Shay half-naked would be perfect stimulation for future nights alone.
Shay grinned as if she’d read her thoughts. “Looking for a memento?”
“I’ll own that.” Rosie tugged at the back of Shay’s waistband. “I promise it’d just be for my own purposes.”
Shay scooted onto the bed and straddled her. “I take it you wouldn’t mind me coming back again?”
Rosie shrugged, affecting a nonchalance that her instant excitement threatened to bubble up and drown. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking this might work for both of us.” Shay sucked Rosie’s nipple between her teeth and nibbled lightly. “When we hooked up, you said you weren’t worried about it getting complicated.”
Rosie cupped Shay’s breasts in her hands and squeezed firmly. “I’m not. There’s nothing complicated about two adults wanting sex with each other, is there?”
Shay’s lips parted, and she moaned. “Not until the lesbian cliché kicks in, no.”
Rosie squeezed harder, and Shay pressed against her, making a guttural sound that drove Rosie wild. “I’m pretty sure my Mercedes doesn’t have a tow hitch. You don’t have to worry about that particular stereotype with me, I promise.”
Shay eased up and out of Rosie’s reach. “You’re not looking for forever?”
Rosie huffed. “From what I’ve seen, it doesn’t exist.” She stroked Shay’s thighs, enjoying the texture of the soft denim on her hands.
If they were going to do this, she guessed honesty would be the best way forward, and if talking kept Shay straddled over her, half-naked, she was prepared to talk up a storm.
“I won’t lie; I’ve been looking for my Princess Charming for a while, but I’ve kind of given up.
Lori seemed happy enough for six years, and then the lawyer broke her heart.
Ellery is in a toxic on-off relationship with a gold-digging—”
“Who’s Ellery?”
“Another friend. She’s Lori’s vet. Well, she’s not her vet, obviously. She’s the vet for the Sanctuary. Anyway, it’s not important. My point is, I don’t think happily ever after exists, so I’m interested in happy for now. No pressure. No expectations.”
Shay grinned. “That sounds exactly right. Happy in the moment works for me.”
“And I’m just finding my feet in a new job, working crazy hours and dealing with even crazier clients.” She ran her finger along the crotch seam of Shay’s jeans. “This was perfect. I needed to flush the day from my system, and a few orgasms have done exactly that.”
Shay raised her eyebrow. “A few?”
“What do you need? Validation?”
“I got that from your string of expletives and the way your eyes half-lidded in clear ecstasy thirteen times.”
“You were counting?”
“I was making sure you got what you needed.”
“And what about you? Did you get what you needed?” Rosie wasn’t going to point it out, but there were times during the sex when it felt like Shay wasn’t really there, and that Rosie could’ve been anyone.
But that was the nature of casual sex, wasn’t it?
With no complicating emotions involved, it was simply about the pleasure.
“Yeah, I did.”
Shay climbed off Rosie and went back around to her pile of clothes, but not before Rosie had seen a flicker of something like sadness in her eyes.
The playfulness was gone, and her tone was flat.
Rosie scrambled to decipher what she might’ve said that had killed the mood.
Her phone buzzed on her bedside table. She rejected the call, wanting to keep her focus on Shay.
Had she fucked up the casual situationship without even trying?
Christ, she couldn’t even do booty calls right. No wonder she was always alone.
“Was that one of your crazy clients?”
Shay fixed the clasp on her lace bra and pulled her sheer sweater on.
Rosie was impressed it was still in one piece given the way she’d torn it off.
“Maybe. The international ones sometimes forget the time difference, but I work in advertising; I’m not a first responder.
They can email me.” She didn’t want to think about the only other person who might call regardless of the time.
Shay tied the laces on the Converse Chuck 70 De Luxe heel satin sneakers Rosie had briefly admired before they’d been thrown aside in their desperation to get into bed.
The same shoes were in her Converse basket waiting for checkout, but if she got them now, she’d have to check with Shay anytime they went out, so they didn’t end up wearing matching shoes.
That was a stereotype borne from reality, just like the U-Haul.
Rosie’s phone buzzed again and this time, she checked to see if she recognized the number before rejecting it. Her heart pounded when she registered the California area code.
“Looks like they don’t share your view on what constitutes an emergency.” Shay stood and retrieved her purse from the chair in the corner.
“They’ll learn. Are we good?” Rosie asked, still slightly confused by the sudden shift in Shay’s mood.
Shay paused at the end of Rosie’s bed and nodded. “We’re more than good,” she said.
Her wicked grin eased the tension in Rosie’s shoulders. She hadn’t blown it with the hottest woman who’d ever graced her bed. Yay for her. “Before you go… I can text you for this too, right?”
“Sure. It has to go both ways.”
“And there’s no expectation of exclusivity?”
Shay laughed. “Don’t worry, that word isn’t even in my dictionary.”
“Okay then.” Her phone began to buzz again, tempting Rosie to throw it out the window.
“Maybe you should turn that off when you’re home,” Shay said as she opened the bedroom door.
“Then how would we organize these hookups?” Rosie kicked the covers off and parted her legs slightly. If she could tempt Shay back into bed, she could ignore her phone a little longer.
Shay smirked and shook her head. “You asked me to stop, remember?”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t get on your back.”
“Next time.” Shay winked and closed the door behind her.
Rosie pouted until she heard her front door click shut then she grabbed her phone and checked the missed calls. When the phone buzzed again seconds later, she answered it. “Yes,” she said, waiting for the inevitable outpouring of yet another sad story.
“Hey, Rosarita, whatcha doing?”
“I’m not sleeping, thanks to you.” It wasn’t like the guilt trip would work, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her mom sounded high or drunk, possibly both. “And please don’t call me that; it’s culturally insensitive. My name is Rosie.”
Her mom snorted. “All that college time has killed your sense of humor. I know what your name is—I chose it for ya. Took me a long time to decide on it too.”
That wasn’t true at all, but she didn’t have the energy to argue.
She wanted to end the conversation, sleep, and have sweet, sweet dreams about the sex she’d just enjoyed.
“What do you want, Mom? It’s four a.m., and I’m tired.
” And Thanksgiving, the next time she’d be forced to spend time with her mom in yet another “new” cruddy apartment or trailer, was three months away, so what the hell was this call about?
“I just wanted to let you know I’m going on a little trip.”
“And you couldn’t text me the details? Or call in the morning?” Her irritation outweighed the need for patience, and she was so sick of her mom’s never-ending drama.
“I was going to call tomorrow, but Keith wants to get an early start, and I don’t know if my phone’ll work on the road.”
“You’re not going to the moon, Mom.”
“No, I’m going to Mexico.”
Rosie screwed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. Even the afterglow of phenomenal sex wasn’t strong enough to temper the hysteria of her mom’s theatrics. “They have cell towers in Mexico, Mom.”
“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m going to Mexico?”
I don’t want to know. “That’s your business, Mom.” And she was sure her mom’s reasons would be completely logical and not at all knee-jerk reactionary to whatever situation she’d gotten herself into. And it was probably all Keith’s idea, whoever the hell Keith was.
“I need special medication, and it’s cheaper over the border. I’ll be back in a week.”
Rosie shook her head. “Unless you’re arrested for smuggling.”
“We’ll be fine. Keith does this a lot.”
Of course he does. “Then why does he need you?” Damn it. Her mom had hooked her in.
“He doesn’t need me. I need the meds in my system urgently.”
That sent a shiver through her body, and Rosie pulled the comforter up to her neck. Surely her mom was just being her usual melodramatic self, and there was nothing serious going on. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Chronic kidney failure. I need—”
“Come on, Bren. I’m not waiting no more,” a man shouted in the background.
“I’ve got to go, Rosarita. Love ya. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Wait! I don’t have—” But she’d already gone.
“I don’t have your new address.” She flicked to received calls and tried her mom, but it went to a recorded message.
She tried four more times with the same result.
This was her usual behavior: drop a bomb and cut all communication so that Rosie stewed in the uncertainty of limited knowledge.
So, it was researching kidney disease and no sleep then.
She rose from her bed and headed to the kitchen to brew some coffee.
Lori’s birthday party was tonight, and she didn’t want to be a zombie for it, so she’d just have to load up on caffeine.
She was looking forward to the evening and the feeling of it being a date with Shay without the associated pressure.
And she’d enjoy spending Lori’s birthday with her, of course.
Shay’s scent was still strong in the hallway, and she smiled at the memory of the last few hours. Her smile grew wider at the thought of more to come. But she had to park that pleasure for now while she tried to figure out what the hell was going on with her mom. Again.