MANIC: Rook and Ronin, #2 Read online

  "But that's selfish."

  "Why?"

  "Because if you like someone you should want to help them."

  "I am helping you."

  I roll my eyes at him. "Not me, specifically. I just think that if you like someone you'd be willing to give up a little piece of yourself to keep them. If you really liked someone, you'd be OK with slowing down."

  "All right, then why did you insist on taking this contract when Ronin was against it? Why not give up that choice to please Ronin?"

  "Because I like making my own choices, Ford. So if I want to model nude for a butt-load of money, so what? I'm allowed to do that and it's no one's business but mine. "

  "Just because you can make that choice doesn't mean you should. There's a big difference between being in control of your future and making bad decisions."

  I shrug. "So?" But I laugh a little because I sound like a two-year-old.

  "OK," he sighs. "Would you like my childhood psycho-babble interpretation of what you're doing right now?"

  I swallow. Do I? Not really, but this conversation with Ford is oddly compelling. "Go for it."

  "You resist Ronin's advice because you're not ready for it yet. But at the same time you need someone slow and controlling very badly right now. Just like I need someone free and fast. Whatever it was that happened to you, you're looking for someone to make it better, but for some reason you're having a hard time admitting that to yourself. So you're in this weird in-between stage that justifies mistakes in the name of freedom. And whatever it is you're trying to fix, I'd just like to say Ronin's not the answer. Because there's only one person who can fix that mistake you made, Rook."

  "Me?" I ask in a whisper as I watch his eyes.

  "You," he answers softly. "I'm not trying to fix you, I'm just trying to give you the tools to fix yourself."

  "I actually already knew all that stuff, Ford. And besides, I've already saved myself."

  He chuckles under his breath. "Not quite, Rook. You're like Clare right now. In treatment but resisting. It's a long road to recovery."

  He gets up and offers me his hand. I accept it and he pulls me to my feet. We skip breakfast and walk back across the street and despite the very personal nature of our conversation today, we part ways in silence when he gets to his car.

  Ford is one weird guy.

  I go home and climb back into bed, tired and relaxed from the morning exercise.

  Chapter Twenty-Four - ROOK

  "Hey," Ronin whispers in my ear as he settles against my body later. "You awake?"

  I roll over and look at him. "Yeah, how's Clare?"

  He sucks in a long breath. "She's iffy."

  "She can't kick the heroin? Or what? I don't understand what's going on."

  "It's not an easy habit to kick, Gidge. It's got something to do with brain chemistry, she thinks she's dying but it's the withdrawal symptoms. We're just trying to get her over the worst of it." He pulls me into his chest. "What'd you do while I was gone?"

  "Ran with Ford, slept, moped." I look up at him and smile. "Waited for you to come back."

  "How is Ford?"

  "He's weird, Ronin. He's a weird guy."

  His whole body stiffens underneath me for a second, then relaxes. "What'd he say?" He sounds worried.

  I sit up and look down at him. "He said I like being told what to do."

  This makes Ronin pull away. "What?"

  "Yeah, some crap about waiting for orders."

  "That guy is unbelievable."

  "Why?"

  "Never mind, Gidge. But if you're interested in taking orders, then take mine. Stay away from him. He's not a nice guy."

  I say nothing.

  "Let me guess, he said the same thing about me?"

  "Yeah, sorta. He said you like broken girls so you can fix them. Do you think I'm broken?"

  He nuzzles into my neck. "You're so strong, Rook. You're the farthest thing from broken I've ever seen. Please stop running with him. He's a mind-fuck. He does it on purpose. His father was some big-shot psychiatrist, just as nasty as Ford before he died. Ford is one fucked-up dude. And you wanna know why I hate his fucking guts? Because when I was in the tenth grade and he was a senior, he looked up the police report about my father, made copies of it, and then plastered it all over school. Antoine went ballistic, but Ford's father donated a bunch of money to the school and nothing ever happened to him. He's a total asshole."

  But this revelation has lost its shock value because Ford preemptively confessed all this. "Then why do this project, Ronin?"

  "Antoine and Elise wanted the contract and I'm only one-third partner. They're socking money away like crazy for something they're not sharing with me. So there was nothing I could do. It's not Ford's money, anyway, it's the Biker Channel people. But enough about Ford. I missed you and I'm sorry I just walked off like that. Antoine's desperate to make things right with Clare. This is our last chance, you know? She's just a total mess."

  I snuggle into him. I really want to love Ronin and I'm not sure Ford knows what he's talking about. He hasn't seen Ronin in a long time. So even if Ronin used to be looking for a girl to save, that doesn't mean he's still like that now.

  His hands slide up my t-shirt and I gasp as he pokes my ribs. "What," he asks innocently, "is the problem, ma'am?"

  I twist and squirm as he continues to poke me, giggling as I try and get away from his tickling touch.

  "Ma'am, are you resisting arrest?" He leans down to sniff me. "Have you been drinking? I might have to taste you to find out." He kisses me, just a little tease to see if I'm interested. My mouth opens and our tongues tangle and tumble together.

  Oh, I am so interested.

  He nuzzles into my neck, then bites my earlobe gently and kisses his way down my throat, cups one breast while he sucks gently on the other.

  "Wait! I have to confess something."

  "Ma'am, I'm gonna have to ask you to remain silent." He tips his head up as he slides down the bed then positions himself between my legs.

  "But I have a confession."

  He looks up at me and grins. "I'll use it against you, ya know."

  "I understand."

  "OK, confess."

  "I'm hiding drugs," I say with a stupid grin.

  "Really?" His eyebrows waggle at me.

  I bust out a laugh and nod. "Yes."

  His hands go for my shorts. "I'm gonna have to strip-search you then. Sorry, ma'am. Just following procedures." He pulls down my shorts, taking my panties at the same time. "Take off your shirt, Rook." He breaks character and it comes out as a command.

  But it's pretty hot the way he says it so I sit up and pull my t-shirt over my head. His gaze falls to my breasts and then he leans forward and sucks on my nipple again, using his fingertips and tongue at the same time to make it bunch up and get hard.

  "I love that," he says as he drags himself back down my body, sitting up slightly to grab my legs under the knees and push them forward. His tongue teases little circles around my nub and then dips inside me, twisting and tasting. His hands slide up my ribcage and he palms both breasts, hard, then softly. My hands go to his hair and I fist it and push his mouth into me. His hot breath on my most tender parts is about to push me over the edge.

  He pulls back just as the intensity starts to build and I moan. He slides back up and kisses my mouth. I draw my legs up and grind against his erection through his boxer briefs.

  "Take those off," I say. If he can command, then so can I.

  He grins and laces his fingers through my left hand. I'm just about to think that's totally sweet when he lifts it slowly over my head, gently lets go and wraps my palm around the wrought iron bars of the headboard. He repeats this exact same move with my other hand until both are above my head grasping hold of the bars.

  "Stay still, Rook."

  I know what he's doing and even though it sorta ticks me off that he's pulling this dominant shit with me, it also sorta turns me on. So I do stay still. I
watch him as he gets up and rummages through my drawers until he comes up with a silk scarf.

  "Ronin—"

  "Shhh. Just quiet now," he says as he comes back over to the bed. "You're not being restrained, Rook. You wanna take it off, just take it off." He waits to see what I'll say. "OK?"

  He's waiting for me to give him permission. I've modeled with him enough to know if he asks me a sexual question like that he wants an answer. "OK."

  His grin is immediate. "Lift your head up a little." I do and he ties the scarf around my eyes. The scarf is yellow, so it's not dark. I think he did this on purpose because I know for a fact there are black scarves in that drawer. He picked a yellow one so while my sight will be restricted, it won't be dark.

  When he joins me in bed he's missing his boxer briefs. He slides between my legs and I feel his firm erection against my thigh. My heart rate kicks up a few notches as the excitement begins to build.

  I'm definitely turned on and that surprises me because I just handed him control. I suck in a sharp breath between my teeth as he starts with kisses. This time they are hard and desperate. My breathing gets all ragged and I push myself against him, rubbing a little. He enters me and we find our rhythm. There is nothing scary about this at all.

  "Rook," he whispers into my neck. "I want you in my bed every night. I want you to be part of me forever. I want to make an us with you." He thrusts into me and I gasp and buckle my back, holding onto the iron bars so tight it almost hurts. He repeats that move over and over—our bodies hard and fast one moment, then still, or slow the next. He pulls out, almost completely out, then slides back inside me. And again, he varies the rhythm so just as I'm getting used to his motion, it changes and the new sensations demand my attention.

  He leans down into my neck and lets out a steamy breath of desire. "It feels good to give in, doesn't it?"

  "This feels good." I can feel his smile against my skin and I smile too. "But maybe next time I can blindfold you?"

  "You wanna be on top, Gidge?"

  He likes me on top and I like it too. "Yes, please."

  He growls against my neck again. "You have nice manners, Miss Walsh. Now let go of the headboard." I do and before I know what's happening he flips us over and I'm straddling his waist. My hand goes up to the blindfold. "No," he says, stopping me with a firm grasp. "Leave it."

  I obey, then lift up and wrap my palm around his thickness. We are both very ready. I guide him inside me and then let myself dip down. His hands are on my hips, encouraging me to move back and forth instead of up and down. This drives me crazy and he knows it.

  "Come here, Gidge." He gently grabs my shoulders and pulls my upper body down on top of his muscular chest. "Stay right here." And then he takes over, alternating between thrusting and sliding me against him in just the right way so that my clit is throbbing with the friction. I draw my knees up a little so I can push myself against him.

  "God, you feel so good, Rook." His hands are on my ass now, squeezing, and then he lifts up and gives me a small smack. Not enough to hurt but definitely enough to make me want more. The next time he does it I moan and increase my movement, lifting up and then slamming down on him. "Yeah, that's nice," he says and when the hand smacks down for the third time I explode.

  I come so hard I can't stop the scream.

  Chapter Twenty-Five - ROOK

  Fort Collins, or FoCo as Ronin likes to call it, is a about an hour's drive north of Denver. Spencer's shop is just northwest of the city outside a tiny town called Bellvue. It sits on a large piece of land that bucks up against the Cache La Pouder River and the shop is really a large barn behind a massive white farmhouse.

  This place is totally cute.

  Ford, being the asshole that he is, put a car cam in Ronin's truck for the ride up so we dutifully said next to nothing the entire time just to piss Ford off. Now that the crew is back I'm less enthusiastic about being chatty, so I let Ronin do all the talking. He's discussing things with Spencer and Team Rook is messing with the microphone when Ford walks over to me.

  I do my best to ignore him, but it's not easy because he just stands there and waits out my silence.

  "What?" I finally ask as I turn to look up at him.

  He shakes his head at me. "Don't let him talk for you, Rook. Stop moping about the cameras and make decisions. This is your life they're discussing." And then he walks off.

  He's right, I have to admit that. I should be over there talking about this. I walk over to Ronin and Spence and Ronin puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close as he continues talking. "Two places," Ronin says to Spencer. "That's it."

  "Two places, what?" I ask.

  "Four, Ronin. I need her to meet everyone on this trip so we get a good rapport going with the locals. I get that you don't want her doing the whole season, but she already signed a contract for the pilot, and the purpose of the pilot is to generate good footage so we get the whole season."

  "What places?" I ask again.

  "Spencer, she was contracted to do modeling, not be your errand girl. She's a model, not your bitch."

  "What's going on?"

  "Yeah, but the modeling included the reality show, so technically she is my bitch."

  "Spencer—"

  "Rook," Ronin says, a little exasperated. "Please, just let me manage the contractual stuff, OK?" He kisses me on the head and points over to the far end of the shop. "There's your bike, go check it out."

  Hmph. I walk off. Should I be mad at that exchange? He's my manager, he's just doing his job. I look back for Team Rook to see if they've sorted the microphone yet, but they are still busy setting things up. I stop and check out the bike I chose last month when I was at Spencer's showroom and he painted my back up. It was just a plain bike back then, reminiscent of a classic Triumph with a flashy turquoise tank. Now it's all turquoise. The frame, the fenders, and even the long classic leather seat.

  But the thing that really makes this bike stand out now is the logo. Every bike gets its own logo and my bike is called the Shrike Rook. It's so perfect I can hardly contain my glee! It's got a cool swirly feathered blackbird in the middle of a blood red circle and the letters are in a font most heavy metal bands could appreciate. The girly feathers repeat on the fenders and are embroidered on the seat.

  "It's nice, huh?" Ford asks.

  "God, yes! He said he'd customize it a bit, but I never imagined he'd go to all this trouble. It's… stunning." I laugh a little and look over at him.

  He's not even smiling.

  "What?"

  "That was underwhelming, Rook. You didn't even get them to look at you."

  I let out a long breath. "Ford, he's my manager, that's his job. Now leave me alone."

  "Rook!" Ronin barks at me from across the room. I can see Ford give me a look out of the corner of my eye but I ignore him.

  "Yeah," I reply, turning to walk back over to Ronin.

  He meets me halfway, throwing a pissed-off look at Ford who is still back by the bike. "OK, we've agreed to three stops at the different vendors. They're putting the cameras in the truck right now. You drive to three places around town. The painter, the chrome guy, and the upholsterer. Just drop off some bullshit parts, it's all fake, so don't worry about that. Chat the people up, flirt a little maybe, then come back. Ford and your crew will follow in the van. When you get to the shops, let the crew do everything first so they can get shots of you pulling in the parking lot, entering the building. Got it?"

  "Yeah, sure. Are you coming with me?"

  "Ah…" He hesitates. "No, Elise called, they need me up in Steamboat again, so I'm just gonna drive up there real fast and I'll be back soon. Tonight, probably, tomorrow at the latest."

  "What? But it's far, right? You'll never be back that fast!"

  "It's only three hours from here, Gidge. I swear, this is the last time, OK? She's just being a freak. I'll be right back. You'll be working anyway, you'll never miss me." And then he does it again. He leans down, kisses me on the
cheek and walks off, calling out some last-minute bullshit to Spencer as he goes.

  I look back at Ford and he's frowning. He walks over to me. "I'll ride with you, Rook."

  "No," I say. "I can drive myself, thanks."

  The parts truck is a big-ass mother, red, with a huge ol' Shrike Bikes logo on it. It's like a twin to the one Spencer drives. It's even got flashy chrome exhaust pipes and rims. When I get in, I feel powerful.

  I laugh. I have a thingy in my ear so I can hear Ford and a necklace with a microphone on it. They're worried about me getting lost even though they've punched all the addresses into the GPS, so he's talking in my ear as I get situated.

  "What so funny?" he asks.

  "I love this truck. I might have to buy me one. Ask Spencer if I can have it."

  Ford repeats what I said and I can tell he's laughing. I barely make out Spencer's retort, but Ford repeats it for me. "He said if you help him get the full season, this will be one of the many signing bonuses he offers up for the contract."

  I buckle myself in, then turn the ignition. The beast rumbles to life and I let out a little squeal. "OK, I'll do my best, Spence." Thankfully this thing is an automatic, so I put it in gear and gun it out of the parking lot, Ford and Spencer following along in the van with the crew, yelling in my ear to slow down.

  But my foot has other ideas. I haven't driven in a while and I've never driven a truck. My lead foot is getting even heavier now, so the beast lurches forward with power. I roll my window down and pump my fist back at them as I whoop it up.

  And promptly get flashing red and blue lights for my trouble.

  "Oh, shit! The po-nine's here!"

  "Rook," Ford says very seriously in my earpiece, "do you have a license?"

  I pull off to the side of the totally abandoned road. How the hell did the cops even see me out here? We're like ten miles out of town. "Yes, but it's still Illinois."

  The cop pulls in behind me and then the van pulls in behind the cop. Spencer jumps out and tries to run interference. He shakes hands with the cop and they walk up to my window together.