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Rock Chick Revenge Page 6
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“Why would they shoot out his living room with an Uzi when he wasn’t there?”
“It wasn’t an Uzi. It was an AK-47. And they were sending a message.”
He had turned toward me and was leaned into me, working at the cuffs.
I sucked in breath again, mainly because Luke’s naked chest was close to my face and it was freaking me out and playing havoc with my vow to stay faithful to my vibrators.
I felt my hands freed and I pulled my arms down, sat up and shook them out. Pins and needles shot up them and I took a deep breath to tamp down my temper. It wouldn’t serve any purpose, I was learning quickly Luke didn’t like my temper and he was a lot stronger than me. He seemed in a mellow mood and I wasn’t going to piss him off; pissing him off wouldn’t get me home and I needed to get home and soon. I figured him going out and buying me contact lens solution meant he thought, for some reason, I was spending the night. My purse was in my Range Rover and I was pretty certain Sissy had called my cell, probably dozens of times, checking in. She was likely panicked. I needed to phone her and quick.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from saying softly as I rubbed at both of my arms, “That hurt.”
He threw the cuffs on the nightstand, twisted at the waist, grabbed my left wrist and started to massage my arm.
Oh my goodness, Luke’s massaging your arm! Isn’t that sweet? Good Ava trilled in my ear.
Jump him! Rip his pants off! Bad Ava shouted in my other ear.
I ignored my advisors and sat, completely still, and registered how nice, warm and strong Luke’s hands were. They felt good. No, they felt great.
Shit.
“I needed to make sure you were safe,” he told me, thankfully pulling me away from thoughts of his hands feeling great.
“They didn’t shoot out my windows,” I pointed out.
“Then I needed to make sure you didn’t do something stupid.”
Hmm.
One, two, three, four, five… okay, temper under control.
“Now that you know I’m safe and I can promise you I won’t do anything stupid,” Tonight, I thought, but did not say, “Can I please go home?”
“No.”
“Luke!”
His hands went to my armpits, he got up, taking me with him and set my feet on the floor.
I had kicked off my flip-flops and they were lying somewhere in the bed. There was something very weird about me, barefoot, standing in Luke’s dark loft with Luke also standing barefoot and shirtless with me. There was something intimate about it, something sweet and nice and wonderful.
Hell and damnation.
He took my hand, led me across the room to a dresser, opened a drawer and took something out. Then he led me to the bar and grabbed the bag. Then he led me to the bathroom, flipped a switch and gave me a gentle push inside. He tossed the stuff in the sink and looked at me.
“Take out your contacts, get changed, we’re going to bed.”
I stood, blinking in the lit room, mouth dropped open and watching the door close through my blinking.
We’re going to bed, WE are going to bed, he said. Yippee! Bad Ava yelled happily in my ear, punching the air and doing a touchdown dance.
He’s so thoughtful, going out to get your contact stuff. I think he’s adorable, Good Ava shared.
Oh for goodness sake. Good Ava needed a reality check. Luke? Adorable? Please.
I sighed. No reason to fight it, because I obviously wasn’t going to win. Tomorrow, he would take me home and I would forget all of this ever happened. This was not likely but I was going with it for the moment.
I pulled the stuff out of the bag, noting he also bought me a toothbrush, took out my contacts and used the bathroom because I needed it, badly. I found this mortifying for some bizarre reason; everyone had to use the bathroom. Still, it wasn’t like I was removed in any way from Luke, there was only one other room in the place, he could probably hear. I was pretty certain I had gone through my whole life, even when he came over with his parents, or we were over it his house, without Luke ever knowing I had any need of the facilities.
Oh well, what the hell.
I washed my hands, took off my clothes, shoved my silver in my jeans pockets and pulled on the tee he had given me. It was seriously cool, old, faded, soft and black with a Triumph motorcycle in silver on the front of it. It was huge on me, coming down over my hips to my upper thighs. It felt good on, nice and snug and I tried (hard) not to think of wearing Luke’s t-shirt at the same time, trying to figure out how to steal it.
I folded my clothes neatly, as if my life depended on it. Without anything else to do to delay, I opened the bathroom door, switched off the light and walked into the loft.
The loft was still lit only by the lights outside.
Luke I saw, my heart beginning to beat a little faster in my chest, was lying in bed, sheets to his waist, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling seeming peaceful and Zen, as if he spent a lot of time in that position. This was all I really saw, mainly because without my contacts my vision was blurry. Which I had to admit, still struggling with fidelity to my vibrators, was kind of a bummer.
I walked slowly to the bar, semi-feeling my way with my feet, and put my clothes on a stool. Then I turned to him.
“Can I use your phone?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he took his hands from behind his head, twisted to the nightstand and pulled the phone out of its cradle.
I walked to him and took it from his outstretched hand. “It’s long distance,” I told him.
“Where’s Sissy?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes, mainly because I was also noticing that you didn’t get much by Luke and that was kind of annoying.
“Wyoming.”
“As long as it isn’t England.”
I nearly smiled at him but stopped myself just in time.
I looked at the phone. Then I realized I had a slight problem. Although I had memorized Sissy’s Mom’s number, I couldn’t see the keypad without my contacts. It was a new phone to me, who knew where the buttons were?
Shit.
I was wrong, the going to the bathroom thing was embarrassing, this was mortifying.
I stood there, uncertain. Then I realized I had no choice. Sissy was probably packing the car as I hesitated, ready to come down to find out what happened to me and face my house, empty, or her house, probably cordoned off with police tape. Then she would lose it, thinking Dom had killed me or, more likely, I had killed Dom.
Crap.
“Luke?”
“Yeah?”
I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought he was looking at me. “I need you to dial the number. I can’t see the phone.”
I didn’t know what I expected him to do. Still, I was surprised that, without hesitation, he sat up and took the phone out of my hand.
“What’s the number?”
I told him, he punched it in with his thumb and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I whispered, listening to it ring.
“Good to have you back, babe,” he said, his voice soft, gentle, affectionate and I felt my body jerk in reaction to his tone and his words just before Sissy answered the phone.
“Please let this be Ava,” she said.
“Yo,” I replied, turning away from Luke, wishing I could run away from Luke, and again wondering what in the hell I was doing.
“I’ve called a gazillion times!” Sissy shouted in my ear.
“I know. I’m sorry. I… something happened and I got separated from my purse,” I made it to the window by the kitchen, leaned against the brick sill and stared out at LoDo.
It was blurry but I could still tell that Luke had a kickass view.
“Are you okay?” Sissy asked.
“Yeah, fine.”
“My phone says this number is blocked. Are you home?”
Shit.
I had to make a split-second decision. Lie to her or tell her the truth when the truth would both freak her out (
her living room getting shot out and Dom, still her husband, being delivered a very scary message) and make her jump for joy (that I was standing in Luke’s t-shirt in his loft in LoDo).
I decided to hedge. “Listen, I’m really tired, I’ll call you tomorrow. Tell you all about it.”
“Did you find anything?”
I had to give her something and that something had to be something Luke, who I was certain was listening, couldn’t get anything out of. “Just an industrial-sized box of condoms in his nightstand.”
Silence.
“Sissy?”
“Guess he isn’t pining for me, hunh?”
“Sissy,” I said softly, feeling her pain as only best friends do and wishing she were closer so I could give her a hug.
“Get to sleep, it’s late. Tell me about it tomorrow,” she said.
“Okay.”
“I want to hear about the Luke thing tomorrow too. Ally called my cell, said something happened between you guys. She said he carried you through the reception area!”
Oh crap.
“Ally,” Sissy laughed. “She’s so full of shit.”
Oh crap!
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I told her.
“Ava?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. You’re the bestest best friend a girl could have.”
I smiled into the phone. That was worth getting shot at for.
“Later,” I said.
“Later,” and I heard her disconnect.
I looked at the phone and realized I didn’t know how to turn it off.
I didn’t have to wonder long, it was pulled out of my hand because Luke, again silent as a cat, was right beside me. He beeped it off as I stared at him and saw he was wearing nothing but a pair of dark (probably black) shorts that rode low on his hips but were long on his thighs.
I swallowed as he walked away and put the phone on the kitchen counter. Then he turned and started back to me.
Now what?
I looked from his shorts to his face. “Do you have a blanket?” I asked.
“Why?” he asked back, stopping close.
“So I can sleep on your couch.”
“You aren’t sleeping on the couch.”
I looked around, confused then asked, “Why not?”
“You’re sleeping in the bed.”
“So, you’re sleeping on the couch?”
“No.”
“Are you sleeping on the floor?” I asked, surprised, but figured it was maybe some Zen, macho guy thing, roughing it on a plank wood floor.
“No.”
Uh-oh.
“Where are you sleeping?” I asked.
His hand shot out and, too late, I saw the blurry glint of steel and heard the clanking right before the bracelet was slapped on my wrist.
I pulled back. “Oh no,” I said, my heart thumping in my chest and my blood pumping through my veins.
He slapped the other bracelet on his own wrist.
“No!” I shouted, yanking back, viciously this time, but it was like he didn’t feel the pull. He just leaned in, shoulder to my belly, picked me up, his free arm around my thighs, his other wrist bound to mine and he started to the bed.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted, feet kicking, pushing at his waist with my free hand.
This was too much. Too fucking much.
“Going to bed,” he said calmly.
“Handcuffed to me?”
“Damn straight.”
“You’re nuts.”
“I’m not taking any chances,” he said, tossing me on the bed and coming down with me.
I tried to scramble away. He pulled me back with a jerk on the cuff.
I stopped scrambling and stared at his fuzzy face in the dark. “Not taking any chances with what?”
“You taking off in the middle of the night, getting shot at again, kidnapped, car bombed, any of it.”
I was right, he was nuts. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ll tell you in the morning, after you tell me about your little bit of trouble.”
Eek!
I decided to ignore the second part of that. “Tell me now.”
“Go to sleep, Ava.”
“Uncuff me!”
“Settle down and go to sleep,” he ordered, settling himself on his back.
“Un… cuff… me!” I pulled hard at the cuff.
He jerked it again, harder, and I toppled into him, breasts to chest and his other arm went tight around my waist.
“Settle,” he said low.
I glared in the general direction of his face, knowing I would never win but not about to give in gracefully.
“I hate you,” I declared.
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“Okay, maybe whoever this new Ava is does but she’s a bitch and I don’t give a fuck if she hates me. The old Ava doesn’t hate me and she’s in there somewhere, I saw her five minutes ago and that’s who I’m keeping safe.”
That knocked the breath out of me and cut me deep.
So deep, to hide how much it hurt, I did as he told me to do and settled into his side, my body mostly on him because my right wrist was cuffed to his left and his arm was thrown out wide to keep me there. Without anywhere else to put it, I rested my head on his shoulder. Still, I held myself tense because I was totally freaked out.
Woo hoo! We’re in bed with Luke! Bad Ava crowed.
Oh, this feels nice. His chest is so hard and his body is so warm, Good Ava breathed.
If Good Ava and Bad Ava could get close, I was certain they would high five.
Jeez.
I lay there, trying to relax. I couldn’t relax.
So I started talking. “I won’t get shot at again,” I muttered into his shoulder.
“I’m not taking any chances.”
“I certainly won’t get kidnapped, the idea is ridiculous.”
He was silent.
“And a car bomb, what on earth?” I mumbled.
“Babe.”
“What?”
“Please be quiet and go to sleep.”
“Fine,” I snapped.
His arm around my waist tightened and his other hand came close to rest on his chest, forcing my hand to rest on his chest too. I slid off his body but he held me close to his side.
I figured I’d never in a million years, snuggled up next to Luke Stark, man of my dreams, wearing his t-shirt, lying in his big bed, in his huge loft (and handcuffed to him for God’s sake), get to sleep.
It took, like, five minutes and I was dead to the world.
Chapter Four
Payment
I woke up in the middle of the night when my body moved, not of its own volition.
I opened my eyes; it was still dark. Luke had turned into me, his arm holding me close, pulling me over the top of his body.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, my voice sleepy.
“Shh,” he shushed me and rolled, taking me with him, settling me on my other side.
Our cuffed arms were cocked and up between our bodies and he had me close so his and my forearms were pressed beneath my breasts. His free hand slid down my hip, to my thigh, pulling it up, gliding down the back of my thigh to my knee and hooking my leg over his hip.
If I hadn’t been mostly asleep, I would have probably flipped out at the intimacy of this position, struggled and maybe thrown a hissy fit.
Instead, I was warm, tired and the position was ultra comfortable.
I snuggled into his warm body, his arm moved to rest at my waist and I fell back to sleep.
* * * * *
I woke up and blinked at all the sunlight coming into the room. Denver was a sunny place but this was crazy.
I stared at the wall of hard-muscled chest that was right in front of my eyes and for a second felt confusion.