Read Online Dirty For Me (Motor City Royals) by Jackie Ashenden - Free Book Online
Authors: Jackie Ashenden
Ads: Link
look. “Whoa, you look tired. You got home okay last night?”
“I did.” Tamara leaned against the kitchenette counter, watching as Rose shook a packet of sugar into her coffee. “And you don’t look tired. What happened with the club?”
“Actually I didn’t end up staying out all that late.”
This was news. Rose had the stamina of an ox and liked to prove it whenever she could. “I don’t believe you,” Tamara said flatly.
Her friend laughed. “Yeah, I know, but strange as it may sound, it’s true. I think it was Zee’s class that did it. I just came away from it feeling so . . . empowered.” She stirred her coffee, flicking Tamara a glance. “Like . . . in control of things. And the other girls all felt the same way.” She put down the spoon, turned, and leaned back against the counter, holding her coffee mug. “We went to that club afterward and when we got there I got so busy talking with the others about the class, I didn’t even feel like hooking up with anyone. I kind of forgot about it.”
Tamara blinked. Rose forgetting about hooking up was unheard of. It was also a little strange that her friend, the biggest man-eater out there, had gone out looking to go home with someone and hadn’t, while Tamara had gone out not looking to go home with anyone and had.
Which you are not going to think about.
That restless, edgy feeling curled in her gut. Dangerous . . .
She picked up her coffee from the counter. Work, that’s clearly what she needed.
Rose’s gaze had narrowed in the direction of her neck. “Hey, is that what I think it is?”
Tamara groaned inwardly. Trust Rose to pick up on the damn hickey. Resisting the urge to pull her collar higher to hide it, she turned toward the door. “It’s nothing.”
“The hell it isn’t. Spill, Lennox. Did something happen last night?”
“No.”
“Bull. Get an unexpected visit from your boyfriend, maybe?”
Guilt turned over inside her, a small sharp thing. Would Robert even care she’d been with Zee?
No. He wouldn’t. And you know it.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said, tossing Rose a secretive smile over her shoulder as she headed for the doorway.
“Oh come on now,” Rose said disgustedly from behind her. “You have to tell me. Was it Zee? Did you hook up with him last night after we’d gone?”
But Tamara only laughed and kept walking.
No one would ever find out about Zee. No one. And maybe, if she was lucky, she’d even forget about it permanently herself.
* * *
“Hold still. This is going to hurt.”
Zee let out a breath and waited patiently in one of the garage’s office chairs while Zoe began the process of sewing up the ragged cut on his eyebrow. She was wrong. It didn’t hurt. Or at least, he’d long since ceased to feel stuff like that.
There was a disapproving look on her delicate face. “You shouldn’t be doing stitches yourself, not when you can’t sew for shit.”
“The Band-Aid didn’t work and you know I can’t go the ER. I had to stop it bleeding somehow.”
She snorted. “You should have called me.”
“It was three in the morning, Zoe. I’m not waking you up in the middle of the night.” Especially not when all it needed was a couple of stitches. Though she had a point when she’d said he couldn’t sew for shit. He couldn’t.
“You’re going to scar.”
Zee lifted a shoulder. “Scarring is the least of my problems.” And what was a little scar in any case? He’d had worse. Anyway, the fight had been a good one, leaving him pleasantly hollowed out and empty. Calmer.
“You’re looking very pleased with yourself,” Zoe commented as she neatly drew tight another stitch.
“Am I?”
“Uh-huh. Not thinking about that chick you took home last night?”
A flash of unexpected and very unwelcome heat went through him at the mention of Tamara.
That was the other great thing about the fight: He hadn’t thought of her once since.
Damn Zoe.
“Her? She turned up at the
“I did.” Tamara leaned against the kitchenette counter, watching as Rose shook a packet of sugar into her coffee. “And you don’t look tired. What happened with the club?”
“Actually I didn’t end up staying out all that late.”
This was news. Rose had the stamina of an ox and liked to prove it whenever she could. “I don’t believe you,” Tamara said flatly.
Her friend laughed. “Yeah, I know, but strange as it may sound, it’s true. I think it was Zee’s class that did it. I just came away from it feeling so . . . empowered.” She stirred her coffee, flicking Tamara a glance. “Like . . . in control of things. And the other girls all felt the same way.” She put down the spoon, turned, and leaned back against the counter, holding her coffee mug. “We went to that club afterward and when we got there I got so busy talking with the others about the class, I didn’t even feel like hooking up with anyone. I kind of forgot about it.”
Tamara blinked. Rose forgetting about hooking up was unheard of. It was also a little strange that her friend, the biggest man-eater out there, had gone out looking to go home with someone and hadn’t, while Tamara had gone out not looking to go home with anyone and had.
Which you are not going to think about.
That restless, edgy feeling curled in her gut. Dangerous . . .
She picked up her coffee from the counter. Work, that’s clearly what she needed.
Rose’s gaze had narrowed in the direction of her neck. “Hey, is that what I think it is?”
Tamara groaned inwardly. Trust Rose to pick up on the damn hickey. Resisting the urge to pull her collar higher to hide it, she turned toward the door. “It’s nothing.”
“The hell it isn’t. Spill, Lennox. Did something happen last night?”
“No.”
“Bull. Get an unexpected visit from your boyfriend, maybe?”
Guilt turned over inside her, a small sharp thing. Would Robert even care she’d been with Zee?
No. He wouldn’t. And you know it.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said, tossing Rose a secretive smile over her shoulder as she headed for the doorway.
“Oh come on now,” Rose said disgustedly from behind her. “You have to tell me. Was it Zee? Did you hook up with him last night after we’d gone?”
But Tamara only laughed and kept walking.
No one would ever find out about Zee. No one. And maybe, if she was lucky, she’d even forget about it permanently herself.
* * *
“Hold still. This is going to hurt.”
Zee let out a breath and waited patiently in one of the garage’s office chairs while Zoe began the process of sewing up the ragged cut on his eyebrow. She was wrong. It didn’t hurt. Or at least, he’d long since ceased to feel stuff like that.
There was a disapproving look on her delicate face. “You shouldn’t be doing stitches yourself, not when you can’t sew for shit.”
“The Band-Aid didn’t work and you know I can’t go the ER. I had to stop it bleeding somehow.”
She snorted. “You should have called me.”
“It was three in the morning, Zoe. I’m not waking you up in the middle of the night.” Especially not when all it needed was a couple of stitches. Though she had a point when she’d said he couldn’t sew for shit. He couldn’t.
“You’re going to scar.”
Zee lifted a shoulder. “Scarring is the least of my problems.” And what was a little scar in any case? He’d had worse. Anyway, the fight had been a good one, leaving him pleasantly hollowed out and empty. Calmer.
“You’re looking very pleased with yourself,” Zoe commented as she neatly drew tight another stitch.
“Am I?”
“Uh-huh. Not thinking about that chick you took home last night?”
A flash of unexpected and very unwelcome heat went through him at the mention of Tamara.
That was the other great thing about the fight: He hadn’t thought of her once since.
Damn Zoe.
“Her? She turned up at the
Similar Books
