Steel Lust Read online

  He propped his elbow on the table and ran his hand through his hair. “But?”

  “But you were very interested in me.”

  He nodded. Even though he didn’t remember her assistant or what she looked like, Leo wasn’t at all surprised by that bit of information.

  “She begged me to step out of the way so she could have a better shot at you.” She sighed, brought all of her hair over her shoulder and started twisting it into a long coil. “It was one of the low points of my life that I agreed and left her there, but it worked. You took her back to your hotel with you later that night.”

  He waited for her to go on, the coffee sitting like a hot-tar slug in his stomach.

  “When the two of you got back to your room you passed out and threw up all over yourself and the bed. She spent the night cleaning you up and making sure you didn’t drown in your own sick until someone came to get you the next day.”

  Shame and anger he was all too familiar with burned through him. “Jesus.”

  She laid her hand over his on the table. “I’m sorry. You asked.”

  “Sadly, that isn’t the worst story I’ve heard.” He looked at her for a long moment. “None of this bothers you?”

  She slipped her hand out of his and dropped her gaze.

  “I’m really in no position to judge,” she told him quietly. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, some of them more personally costly and humiliating than others.”

  “We wouldn’t be living if we didn’t all make mistakes.”

  The smile she gave him was both troubled and knowing.

  “What made you quit drinking?” she asked.

  He took another sip of his coffee to clear his dry throat. “A girl.”

  “Ah.” She smiled perceptively. “There’s always a girl.”

  “I wasn’t in love with her by any means, but I liked her a lot. Enough that I was willing to quit my groupie-loving ways and ask her to live with me.”

  He paused, but Joy didn’t seem to be bothered by what he’d said.

  “I was a twenty-eight-year-old alcoholic with a business degree I wasn’t using. I was working as a body piercer and making good money, but had nothing to show for it. The tiny apartment I was living in was a filthy flophouse and the car I drove at the time sat dead in the parking lot more than it ran.

  “The girl, she laughed when I asked her to move in with me. She didn’t think I was serious. It was a huge joke that I’d even asked. And when I went to my mom Linda, who is the voice of reason itself, she asked me if I blamed her for laughing. Then she had the nerve to ask me if I took myself seriously.”

  “That’s what prompted you to quit?”

  “Eventually.” He smiled at the memory, something he’d just recently learned how to do. “I didn’t talk to Mom for a whole week and a half, then I called and asked her to take me to rehab. She was thrilled to do it.”

  “And look at you now, with a great house and a nice car.”

  She showed him that killer smile of hers when he laughed.

  “It’s amazing how much money a person can save when they’re not spending it showing all their friends a good time,” he conceded. “The shop I was working out of at the time wasn’t the best environment for staying sober. Jamie wasn’t happy where he was working either so we decided to put my business degree to good use, called Oz to see if he wanted in on it and opened a place of our own.”

  “A shop that’s thriving.”

  “It helps that Oz and Jamie are both big names in the tattoo universe.”

  Her smiled faltered just a little. “And the groupies?”

  “I haven’t touched one in as long as I haven’t had a drink. Gave them both up for good.” He picked up her hand and pressed her palm to his mouth, eyes on hers. “Before last night I hadn’t touched a woman, period, in a long, long time.”

  She tipped her head to one side just a little. “Why me?”

  “Why you?” he asked, incredulous. “How long do you have for me to answer that question?”

  She flushed beautifully.

  He pushed his chair away from the table and tugged on her hand.

  “Let me show you why one more time before I have to go home,” he said, slipping his fingers under the hem of her loose shirt as she straddled his lap. “Wha’d’ya say?”

  She gave him a playfully skeptical look even as she raised her arms and let him pull her shirt off over her head. “You sure you have another one in you?”

  Leo shifted toward the edge of the chair and settled her over his hardening cock.

  “I guess you do.” She laced her fingers through his hair and wiggled her hips, teasing him through their clothes. “Are you sure you have to go back today?”

  He teased one of her nipples into a tight peak. “I might be persuaded to stay.”

  Chapter Seven

  “So, I heard you went all alpha stud rescue hero on some photographer yesterday.”

  Leo had shown up at Lust for Life late Sunday evening, thinking he and Norma Jean were going to have the place to themselves. The shop closed at six on Sunday and wasn’t open on Monday. He thought he’d be able to catch up on the paperwork he’d blown off by driving Joy home and then spending the rest of the weekend with her, but he’d found Eva in his office instead.

  “Superman,” he corrected, dropping his messenger bag onto an empty chair. “You mean I went all Superman on some photographer yesterday.”

  She sat up from the ear rub she was giving Norma Jean and gave him an impish look that was distinctly Eva. “I would like to see you in the tights some time.”

  “Well, if you weren’t my best friend’s baby sister I’d be happy to show you.”

  Eva was youngest of the seven Rodriguez children. She was also the only one who had their mother Brenda’s coloring. While all six of her siblings had their father’s wavy black hair and dark-olive skin, Eva’s long, straight hair was the color of honey in sunlight, her complexion fair. The running joke in the family was that she was the milkman’s kid, but her wide, deep-green eyes had clearly come from her father.

  She was ten years younger than Leo, but they had always been close, even when she was a little girl and he was just one of the guys always hanging around the full-to-capacity Rodriguez house. The older she got, the closer they became, to the point that Leo considered her just as close of a friend as Jamie had always been to him.

  No one was surprised when she announced she wanted to work with what were essentially her three older brothers when Leo, Jamie and Oz opened the shop. Not that Oz had shown her any brotherly love when he’d been making her apprenticeship a living hell. But she’d done one better than survive it, she’d thrived. She was only twenty-three, but she was already making a name for herself as an amazing tattoo artist.

  She snorted. “Same old copout you always use, Jones. And you forget all the summers you spent swimming in our pool. I’ve seen the legs.” She tilted her head to one side and pointed. “For that matter, I’ve seen the ass. Remember when Steve pantsed you at his graduation party?” she asked, talking about the fourth Rodriguez sibling.

  “He was always trying to get a look at my ass. Frankly, I’m surprised he married a woman,” he muttered, then smiled when she snickered. “What are you doing here on a Sunday night?” he asked, moving to stand behind his desk chair.

  “Same thing you are, trying to work without interruptions.” She turned and made a couple of mouse clicks, taking him to what appeared to be the shop’s new website home page. “I’ve been working on redesigning the website.”

  “You just did that a few months ago.” He leaned in, one arm over the back of the chair, his other hand braced on the edge of the desk.

  “It’s been almost a year.” She turned her head and sniffed his hair. “You smell fucking incredible. What is that?”

  He straightened. “I’m trying a new shampoo,” he muttered.

  He’d used Joy’s shampoo. He scrubbed a hand over his nose and mouth, surreptitiously mak
ing sure he didn’t still smell like Joy as well. He’s spent most of the afternoon making sure he was thorough about saying goodbye. To all of her.

  “You’re grinning like an idiot,” Eva observed. “I heard she’s hot.”

  “Oh yeah? Who’d you hear that from?”

  “The Pop-Tart.” She made a few quick clicks and closed out of what she was doing.

  “Her name is Agnes.” He still had no idea why Eva called her the Pop-Tart. Frankly, he was afraid to ask. “And I thought you didn’t talk to her.”

  “She’s growing on me.” She stood and stretched with a noisy groan. “But only because she’s not as stupid as the other two.”

  “Sharonda is a dean’s list honor student.”

  “Who works part-time as a counter girl in a tattoo shop.”

  He paused a beat. “You used to work as a counter girl in a tattoo shop.”

  “Only until Jamie talked Oz into mentoring me. And besides, the brainiac’s got that haughty way of talking like she’s better than the rest of us. I don’t like her. And don’t even try to defend Miss Marvelous,” she snarled, meaning Pete’s girlfriend Marvella.

  He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and said nothing.

  Marvella was a vapid, shallow girl who only worked one or two nights a week, and then only for a few hours at a time. When she didn’t call off, that was. He and Jamie and Oz had talked about letting her go from time to time, but she drew in clients like crazy when she did work, and she could sell the hell out of shop t-shirts and body jewelry.

  “I think the Pop-Tart was a little jealous.” She grinned. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume she was right about the sparks flying between you and photographer lady since you’re just now getting back and you don’t smell like you.”

  “Joy. Photographer lady’s name is Joy.”

  Not that it mattered. Eva called everyone whatever she felt like calling them.

  “That is easier to say than photographer lady.” She took her scarf off the back of the chair and looped it around her neck. “She said you got all tongue-tied,” she added with a chuckle. “That had to be fun to see. Leo Jones with nothing to say.”

  He gave her a dry look. “I have work to do, and you’re in my way.”

  Which only made her laugh again. “You like her?”

  Evading the question wasn’t an option. She was too smart for him to get away with trying to bullshit her, and he knew she couldn’t care less that it had only been a couple of days since he and Joy met. She’d once let a guy move in with her after only knowing him a week. They’d been a solid couple for three years.

  So he was straight with her. “Yes.”

  “Good.” She pushed her arms into her coat when he held it for her. “It’s good to see you interested in women again. I was getting worried.” She pulled her hair out of her collar as she turned back to face him. “I stalked her online. If you’re going to get back on the proverbial horse, might as well make her a thoroughbred, right?”

  And there it was again…the memory of Joy riding him hard, gorgeous tits bouncing and hair swinging.

  He took Eva’s face in his hands and planted a brotherly kiss on her forehead.

  “I’m not having this kind of weird discussion with you, sis.”

  “Sis.” She slugged him on the shoulder. “That’s a rotten thing to call me,” she grumbled, then wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Damn you smell good. Seriously, Leo. It’s making me want to do really dirty things to you.”

  He held her at arm’s length. “Please get the hell out of my office.”

  “All right. But only because you asked so nicely.” She threw some things in the suitcase-sized purse she carried and slung it over her shoulder. “Hey. Any word on the 30 Seconds to Mars thing?”

  Grind’s newly acquired manager had been talking to the woman scheduling the well-known band’s opening acts for their upcoming summer tour.

  “Nothing yet. As far as I know we’re still in the running.”

  “Ugh.” She slumped against the doorframe.

  “Yeah, I feel that way too when I think about how long we’ve been waiting to hear.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “That’s why I try not to think about it.”

  “I’ll remember to bring it up all the time now.” She pivoted and gave him a coy smile over her shoulder. “‘Niii-iight,” she singsonged and left.

  “Jesus, what a brat,” he muttered to himself as he sat down at his desk.

  He opened a bottom desk drawer and rummaged through a file until he found the inventory sheets he was looking for. His hair fell in his face and his senses filled with the smell of Joy. He closed his eyes and breathed her in for a moment before righting himself and yanking open the middle desk drawer.

  He found a hair elastic mixed in with the rubber bands in the drawer, swept his hair back from his face and tied it into a low ponytail. He was having a hard enough time keeping his mind off her without being driven to distraction every time he caught a whiff of his own damn hair.

  * * * * *

  Joy reached up with a pruned foot and turned on the hot water to reheat her bath. She wasn’t quite ready to get out yet. She still ached in some really amazing places—places she hadn’t been sore in what? Ten years? More than ten years?

  And still, despite the delicious ache, she tingled every time she thought of Leo and the weekend they’d spent together. And that afternoon…God, it had been incredible.

  She shifted in the tub, sliding her bubble-bath-slick thighs against each other as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the tub pillow. She whispered his name out loud, remembering the way he’d kissed her, the feel of his hands on her, his touch alternately gentle and fiercely demanding.

  She’d been with men older than her, men with reputations as highly skilled Don Juans who hadn’t treated her with the kind of care or knowing Leonardo had shown her. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d given the groupies he’d admitted to sleeping with the same kind of attention. And if he had, did they have even the slightest understanding of how rare a lover he was?

  She knew better than to get carried away—they lived two hundred and fifty miles apart, she had almost ten years on him and he was the frontman for a rock band that was definitely going somewhere—but she couldn’t help herself. So she lay in the tub and let herself indulge in the fantasy for a while.

  An hour later she was dressed and ready when Love came to pick her up for family dinner night. Even when her mother was on the road, which was becoming increasingly rare, whoever was left in the city got together on Sunday night to eat together. It didn’t matter if they met at someone’s house or a restaurant, it was a tradition started shortly after Love was born, and they hadn’t missed a Sunday night since.

  The house was bustling as they came in through the garage door of Sunny’s Olympia Fields home. Her husband Greg was leaning against the counter next to the stove holding a glass of scotch. Her father was standing directly across from him, leaning against the kitchen sink and holding a glass of the same.

  “Guys’ night to cook?” Love put the cake she’d brought on the counter, threw her arms around their father’s neck and gave him a noisy kiss on the cheek. “Hey, Pop.”

  “Hello, Lovely.” He kissed her cheek and hugged Joy when Love released him. “Hey, Joyful.” He gave her an extra little squeeze before he released her. “No surprise guests tonight?” he asked, looking expectantly at the door.

  “No, just me.” She shrugged out of her coat and pretended she wasn’t blushing. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “You’ll do, I suppose,” he said with a wink as he picked up one of the bottles of wine she’d brought. “Should I open this for you now?”

  They gave each other a wide-eyed look as Sunny’s children screeched in a wild chorus, probably because Love had joined them in the living room.

  “The sooner the better,” she said, and turned to Greg. “Oh, if I must,” she told him with a sigh, gestu
ring to the Kiss the Cook apron he was wearing. She planted a kiss on his handsomely stubble-covered cheek.

  Her sister had definitely landed herself a good one—gorgeous, funny, smart, happily domestic. When she thought of the geeky-cute guy he’d been when Sunny first started dating him in high school she had to laugh. He’d been so goofy-looking back then, his ears, eyes and teeth too big, his head like a balloon on top of his reed-thin frame. The years had been very good to him, filling him out in all the right places.

  “You know I wear this thing just so I can get away with kissing the sisters, don’t you?” He fished a clean spoon out of the silverware drawer and handed it to her when she lifted the lid off the huge pot of pasta sauce.

  “Honey, everyone including your wife knows why you wear it.” She dipped the spoon and blew to cool it off a little. “Your secret’s not a secret.” She tasted. And closed her eyes. “Amazing. You get another for that.” She kissed his cheek again, making sure she planted one on him hard enough to leave a little lipstick behind.

  There was an earth-shaking thundering as the screeching came closer. A moment later her legs were nearly swiped out from under her as five-year-old twins Johanna and Angelica came running into the kitchen to tackle her. Their eighteen-month-old brother Avery toddled in and flung himself onto the back of the pile a moment later, not able to run as fast but screaming louder than the two girls put together.

  Joy bent to kiss the tops of the girls’ dark heads, then scooped Avery off his feet and blew a raspberry into his soft baby neck. He rewarded her with a wild belly laugh and hugged her neck with his chubby little arms.

  “Where is your mother hiding?” she asked the girls, propping Avery on her hip.

  Johanna took her free hand and led her into the living room where Sunny and their mother were already enjoying a glass of wine. Joy kissed her mother on the cheek and released Avery when he reached for his Grandmamma. Love, who was always up for cards of any kind, let herself be dragged to the girls’ bedroom when they begged her to play Go Fish with them.

  “Good, you’re here,” Sunny said, standing before Joy could respond. “There’s something in the basement I need you to help me with.”