Rock Chick Revenge
Page 71

 Kristen Ashley

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Time to defuse the situation. I controlled the Barlow Bitch Pull and took a deep breath.
“Luke,” I said softly. “Give me a break. It’s not like, in my life, I’ve ever been in this situation. I’ve no f**king idea what I’m doing.”
“What you do is, you let me sort it out for you. That’s why you came to the f**kin’ office in the first goddamn place,” he snapped, no less angry for my soft voice.
I dropped my hands and looked at him direct in the eyes. “That’s not the situation I’m talking about,” I said, voice still soft.
“Give me a clue.”
Nope, no less angry. I looked away, closed my eyes tight and licked my lips.
Could I do this? No, I couldn’t do it. Still, I did it so I guess I could do it.
I looked back at him and on another deep breath, I admitted, “You know, Luke. You know that most of the time I couldn’t get a guy to look at me. Much less a hot guy. Now I have four. Four, all after I’d sworn off men. I don’t know what to do.” My voice went ultra quiet, barely even a whisper, even so there was an accusation to it. “You know. You, of all people, know.”
That’s when his body unstuck. Before I knew what he was about, he leaned forward, his arm snagging me around my waist, and he pulled me around the garbage bin and to him, between his legs, our torsos tight together. His other arm closed around my upper back, pinning me against him.
“I’ll tell you what to do. You come to me when you gotta sort shit out. I’ll take care of you. You come to me when you need somethin’. I’ll take care of it. I’ll also tell you what not to do. You don’t have dinner with another man. You don’t sleep in his bed, I don’t care that he’s not in it with you. You don’t leave me standin’ on the sidewalk while you take off with a guy who, days earlier, kidnapped you and threatened to blow your f**kin’ head off. You don’t –”
“Okay I get it,” I broke in quietly.
His arms tightened and he gave me a mini-shake. “You better get it, Ava. I’m not goin’ through the last six hours again.”
I looked at the piles of stuff on the bar. I had left him several, now there was only one. I had come home and he was sitting, sorting through it and eating a cookie.
I looked back at him, confused. “Organizing your paperwork?” I asked.
He stared at me a second as if three identical noses had just popped out on my face then his head dropped back. I could almost hear him asking for patience from the divine. His chin came back down so he could look at me.
“I mean worryin’ where the f**k you were and if you were okay considerin’ the last look I had of you, you had tears in your eyes.”
Oh. That.
“I’m over that,” I lied, so not over it and so never going to tell him what I wasn’t over. Not in a million years. “It was a girl thing,” I lied again for good measure. In my experience, men hated to talk about “girl things”. I was hoping even the brutally honest ones would shy way the hell away from any discussion of a “girl thing”.
He stared at me and I got the impression he totally knew I was lying.
Finally, and thankfully, he decided to let it go. “Zano fed you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Good. Now I can f**k you.”
My knees did a little wobble. “We didn’t have dessert,” I stalled.
His head (and, I must remind you, his fantastic mouth) started coming toward mine.
“Glad he left that to me,” he said before he kissed me.
* * * * *
It wasn’t like last night where it was all go, go, go or shocking but world-tilting surprise or all about Luke giving then taking.
This time Luke went slow and we took turns. He let me touch him, taste him, stroke him, take him in my mouth and I liked it, a lot. He had an unbelievable body and, let me tell you, it was fun as hell to explore.
When he was through letting me, he flipped me over, spread my legs and settled between them. I felt one of his knees come up for better leverage and I was certain he was going to slam into me again. I was ready for it, I wanted it and I stared at him in a fog, my body burning, nearly begging for it.
He didn’t slam into me. Instead, I felt him right there, ready to come inside when his hands came up to either side of my face. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, he slid inside me watching my face the whole time. My lips parted and I held my breath as he slowly filled me until he was buried deep.
I waited for him to move.
He didn’t. He just kept watching me.
“Luke,” I whispered, pressing my h*ps into him.
“Be still, Ava,” he said then his mouth came to mine and he asked, “Do you feel that?”
Yeah, I felt it. It felt great.
“Yeah,” I told him.
I felt him smile against my mouth but he said, “You don’t feel it.”
“I feel it.”
“Then you don’t get it.”
I wanted to get it but he wasn’t moving.
I licked my lips and since my lips were close to his lips, I licked his lips too.
His eyes went molten and he moved, slowly at first then faster then harder until we both came, breathing heavy in each other’s mouths. It was the first time in my life that I cl**axed with a partner at the same time. If I thought the other sex was mind-blowing, I was wrong. Reaching orgasm with Luke was mind-blowing, mind-altering and world-tilting all at the same time.
I was so screwed.
After, his mouth at the skin behind my ear, he murmured, “You ever run away from me with tears in your eyes again, Ava, I’ll hunt you down. Do you understand?”
I didn’t move. This wasn’t sweet, after-sex talk. His voice was low and husky but he was being perfectly serious.
“Do you understand?” he pushed.
I decided it was best to nod. I was unable to process this after a big time orgasm when Luke was still on top of me, when Luke was, at that moment, my whole world.
Mouth still at my ear, he said in The Voice, “I’m bein’ patient, babe, but pretty soon you’re gonna have to let me in.”
No way in hell. He was already in as far as he was going to get, literally and figuratively.
“Don’t call me babe,” I said to take the post-sex conversation away from me letting him in.
I meant it this time in a way I didn’t mean it before. I didn’t want him to call me “babe” and Jules “babe”. It made it less special. In fact, it made it not special at all.