Rock Me All Night

It didn’t help matters that she’d spent the entire evening thinking of him as the slow, sensual songs played out. She remembered his hand on her shoulder. His touch burning through the thin layer of her clothing. What would it be like to have him caress her bare skin?

She shivered. Damn it. She was at work. Rodney rapped on the glass separating them and gestured to the clock. Forty-five seconds remained on the break.

“They were all requests. Do you have one? Is that why you called?”

“No. I called to talk to you. To have you to myself for a few minutes.”

She couldn’t respond to that. It was as if somehow he’d glimpsed a part of her she’d always hidden. She wanted to be some man’s late-night fantasy. Not like Bob, who’d dumped her at midnight, saying that she was too independent and made him feel like a wimp.

“I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Can I meet you for coffee when you’re done with your shift?”

“Why?” she asked. God, she was running out of time. And she didn’t know if she was happy about it. Be happy, she warned herself. This man has danger written all over him. Not physical jeopardy but the more chancy kind that would leave scars on her already battered heart.

“I want to get to know you better, Lauren.”

She closed her eyes. She should just hang up. But she couldn’t. She wanted to get to know him better, as well. Wanted for the first time in her life to be wrong about a guy. But this wasn’t just about her. Ray thought Jack was perfect for the Mile of Men. “Give Rodney your number and I’ll call you back.”

Jack sank deeper into the leather seat of his Jaguar and let the sensuous sounds of Lauren’s voice play over him. He sat in the nearly deserted parking lot of WCPD. Lauren had agreed to a quick cup of coffee, and he didn’t question the reasons why getting to know this one woman was so important to him. He only knew that he had to see her again.

In the long hours since their morning encounter he’d been plagued by the memory of her shoulder under his palm, her fingers brushing his and the surety that her lips would be soft under his.

He’d called the woman he’d been seeing and told her he couldn’t see her anymore. She’d been disappointed but not overly so. The fact that their relationship had ended after only four months didn’t really bother either of them. It had been…satisfying while it lasted.

But he knew he wasn’t going to rest easy until he’d unraveled the mystery of Lauren. Was this what his father felt each time he met a new woman? Or was this the thing that eluded both of his parents, that kept them searching?

He heard her sign off and turned off his car. He climbed out of the vehicle and headed toward the entrance of the building.

He could have called Ty and asked him for the security code to unlock the lobby doors, but Jack was reluctant to give his brother any more fodder. Instead he stood in the cold Detroit night, huddling deeper into his wool overcoat and waiting for a woman who could be the beginning of a new six-month chapter in his life.

When he’d turned sixteen, Jack had realized that his life seemed to move in six-month cycles. Friends, his mother’s boyfriends, father’s girlfriends, sports—all seemed to last only that long. He’d tested his theory a couple of times and it had proved true. His own interest in new things lasted no more than six months. The only enduring interest he’d found was his love of music.

Women, music, cars, houses. He surrounded himself with whatever was fashionable and pleasurable at the moment and felt no qualms when it was time to move on. It was an inescapable part of his nature, and he’d come to terms with it.

The door opened and he stepped forward. For a minute he couldn’t breathe. Her thick black hair curled around her heart-shaped face. She tilted her head to the side, studying him in the harsh glow of the security lamp.

“Hello, Jack.”

Her voice was even more potent in person, brushing over his senses and starting a tingling at the base of his spine. He wanted to feel those full lips of hers against his skin while she spoke.

“Lauren,” he said. Oh, yeah, he was a smooth talker.

“You want to follow me to the diner I mentioned on the phone?” She pulled a pair of leather gloves from her pocket and put them on.

“I’ll drive us.”

He cupped her elbow and led her across the parking lot to his car. He knew she didn’t need his assistance to walk across the pavement, but he had been unable to wait another second to touch her. Even in such an avuncular way.

Rationally he knew he couldn’t feel the softness of her skin through the layers of coat and gloves. But with the sweet floral scent of her perfume filling his nostrils, he imagined he could. Damn, he wished it was summer and she was wearing something that bared her arms.

“You were listening to my show,” she said.

“Yes.” He reached out and flicked off the radio. He backed out of the parking lot and headed for the diner she’d mentioned. “Interesting show. Tell me about your listeners fixing you up.”

“Oh, that. Well, I kind of have a horrible track record with men. The latest and greatest being my fiancé, Bob, who dumped me on New Year’s Eve at a huge party that my parents threw for us. We were supposed to announce our engagement that night.”

“Ouch.”

She gave him a half smile. “Yeah. But one thing I realized after I got over the anger and the embarrassment was that I didn’t really miss Bob. Which made me start thinking about the men I seemed to be drawn to. I decided to take a page from my mom’s book.”

“Which is?”

“Throw the problem out to the listeners and see what they come up with. My mom’s a TV talk-show host.”

“I know. My secretary is a huge fan.”

“Not you?”

“No. I solve my own problems.”

“Big macho man.”

He chuckled. She made him feel good deep inside. He liked that she wasn’t intimidated by who he was. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“So what’s your usual problem-solving method?” she asked. Her tone was softer than a moment before, and he realized that she was doing the same thing he was—feeling him out and searching for answers about the person behind the spark that had flashed between them.

“What do you think?” he asked. He braked to a stop for a red light and glanced at her. Her features looked delicate in the half light that filled the car. She seemed like something ethereal that might slip away. A kind of sexy pixie that had happened into his car by accident and could disappear at any second.

“Something involving a club,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at him.

The light changed and he eased forward. “Nice, Belchoir. Really nice. But you’re not quite on the mark. I’m not the violent type.”

She bit her lower lip, and for a moment his foot slipped off the gas pedal. Her lips were luscious and he wanted to feel them under his own.

“Yeah, but you’re not passive either.”

“Certainly not around you.”

“What’s that mean?” she asked.

“Just that I don’t normally leave my home in the middle of the night to have coffee with a woman.”

“Should I feel flattered?”

“Don’t get sassy.”

“Sorry. I’m just afraid.”