Rock Chick Revenge
Page 51
Seriously, he was worse than Captain Kirk. Luke hardly ever had a shirt on.
I looked away from his body, bit my bottom lip and watched the kettle boil. I felt him behind me and tensed. My hair was swept off my shoulders and his lips touched my neck.
Um.
What?
His arm slid around my waist and he pulled me into his body. “You want to order Chinese or pizza?” he asked.
I blinked at the kettle.
What was happening? Where was Pissed Off Luke? He sounded completely calm, normal, un-pissed-off.
“You have tons of food in your fridge. You don’t eat it, it’ll go bad,” I told him.
“You wanna cook?” he asked.
“I could cook,” I answered.
“Works for me,” he said and let me go.
Holy cramoly.
What was going on?
I made tea. Luke put on black sweatpants with a thick line of dark gray running up the sides and a black tee with a black insignia you could barely see on the front that looked like a set of wings. I made dinner (Sandra’s long and happy life with Luke healthy living options of salmon fillets, broccoli and cous cous). I brought the food to the couch where Luke was watching TV. I sat down and we both ate silently. Then I took the plates back to the kitchen and did the dishes. When I was done, I came back and sat on the couch.
This was freaking me out. He didn’t carry me around, making grand statements about how he was going to f**k me, how I belonged to him, demanding I not go out with Ren. He seemed relaxed and mellow. I didn’t like it and I didn’t trust it one bit.
I started to watch the game, my mind sliding from thought to thought when Luke’s arm came out and pulled me against his side. He was slouched into the couch, feet up on the coffee table. I decided not to poke the sleeping tiger by struggling. I slouched pressed next to him and put feet up on the coffee table by his.
After awhile I could take it no more. I wanted to allow myself to sit next to Luke, pressed to his side, in a happy, pretend world of what it could be like with Luke. Instead, I was freaking out wondering what he was playing at.
I got up announcing I was going to bed. Luke let me go without a word. I went to the bathroom, got ready for bed, spent some time trying to decide if the Triumph tee was the way to go (I went for it, it was snuggly) and I came out of the bathroom.
Hmm. Conundrum.
I should sleep on the couch, make a statement. But Luke was watching the game on the couch. I figured I could move to the couch later and I got in bed.
Half an hour later, Luke switched off the TV and I heard him moving around the loft. He turned off the lamp and he took off his clothes (probably dropping them to the floor, argh!). The bed moved and he got in.
I tensed. He didn’t touch me.
I kept tense. He still didn’t touch me.
This made me tenser.
My mind whirled. Maybe he’d given up. Maybe he thought I wasn’t worth the effort.
I didn’t know what to think of that. I should have been relieved but I had to admit I was not.
You really messed things up this time, Good Ava sounded angry.
That’s okay. Ren’s taking you out to dinner on Tuesday and Theresa Bianchi said he was a GOD in bed, Bad Ava was moving on to new game.
We don’t want Ren, we want Luke. We’ve ALWAYS wanted Luke, Good Ava snapped at Bad Ava.
We’ll take what we can get. Ren Zano is hardly sloppy seconds, that man is FINE, Bad Ava informed Good Ava.
I forced my body to relax and my mind to go blank. I was drifting off to sleep when Luke tagged me around the waist, turning me to my back.
“What are you doing?” I asked, finding myself instantly alert.
He didn’t answer. He covered me with his body and before I knew it his hands were in the Triumph tee and it was up and over my head. He didn’t pull it off, he stopped it when my arms were up, the tee bunched at my elbows.
I was taking this as a sign he hadn’t given up.
Ho-ly crap!
“What are you doing?” I screeched.
He twisted his torso, nabbed something off the nightstand and came back to me. I heard a clink and realized what was happening.
“No you don’t!” I bucked, twisted, struggled against his heavy weight and tried to shove off the tee.
Luke “helped” and the tee was gone in a flash. Wordlessly, he seized my wrists, slapped a bracelet on one and then, without apparent effort and clearly with a good deal of experience working with struggling people, the other and I was cuffed to the bed.
I stilled, a tremor of fear (and excitement, I had to admit) ran through me and I glared at him in the dimly lit dark.
“Uncuff me,” I demanded.
He ignored my demand and declared, “Now, payment.”
Ho-ly shit.
Definitely not giving up. His mouth came to my neck and ran the length of it. A shiver shuddered through me.
At my ear he said, “We’ll save punishment for later. Coupla days,” he informed me conversationally before his lips moved along my jaw then to my mouth. “You gave me a f**kin’ great idea.”
Uh-oh.
I didn’t think that I would think it was a great idea.
He went on, proving me irrevocably correct. “I’m thinkin’ I’ll watch while you make yourself come.”
Oh… my… God.
Me and my bright ideas. I was such a dork!
“Get off!” I cried.
He kissed me. I bucked and twisted these being the only options for me. He didn’t budge.
I tore my mouth from his. “Seriously, Luke, this is not cool.”
His hands ran down my sides and I couldn’t help it, my body trembled because his hands on me felt nice. I knew he felt it, he had to have felt it.
Hell and damnation.
“No?” he asked, sounding satisfied.
Yep, he felt it.
“Go to hell!” I snapped.
He touched his mouth to mine then he moved lower, his mouth on my neck, my throat. Then lower, spending some time at my br**sts. Then lower, at my belly. By the time his tongue traced the top edge of my panties, it was like I hadn’t had an orgasm a few hours ago; it was like I hadn’t had one in ten years.
He went lower and my legs opened immediately in invitation.
Damn it all to hell.
He kissed me over my panties. I moaned and lifted my hips, more than ready for him. His hands slid under my ass and that was it. All vows to vibrators and swearing off men were history.
This was quite simply hot. His mouth moved on me over my panties and it felt good. Even better, it felt naughty and slightly pervy not being able to touch him. I wanted to touch him, needed to put my hands to his head in encouragement, keep him there and not let him stop. Not being able to do that, having no control over the situation, was sexy as all hell.
I looked away from his body, bit my bottom lip and watched the kettle boil. I felt him behind me and tensed. My hair was swept off my shoulders and his lips touched my neck.
Um.
What?
His arm slid around my waist and he pulled me into his body. “You want to order Chinese or pizza?” he asked.
I blinked at the kettle.
What was happening? Where was Pissed Off Luke? He sounded completely calm, normal, un-pissed-off.
“You have tons of food in your fridge. You don’t eat it, it’ll go bad,” I told him.
“You wanna cook?” he asked.
“I could cook,” I answered.
“Works for me,” he said and let me go.
Holy cramoly.
What was going on?
I made tea. Luke put on black sweatpants with a thick line of dark gray running up the sides and a black tee with a black insignia you could barely see on the front that looked like a set of wings. I made dinner (Sandra’s long and happy life with Luke healthy living options of salmon fillets, broccoli and cous cous). I brought the food to the couch where Luke was watching TV. I sat down and we both ate silently. Then I took the plates back to the kitchen and did the dishes. When I was done, I came back and sat on the couch.
This was freaking me out. He didn’t carry me around, making grand statements about how he was going to f**k me, how I belonged to him, demanding I not go out with Ren. He seemed relaxed and mellow. I didn’t like it and I didn’t trust it one bit.
I started to watch the game, my mind sliding from thought to thought when Luke’s arm came out and pulled me against his side. He was slouched into the couch, feet up on the coffee table. I decided not to poke the sleeping tiger by struggling. I slouched pressed next to him and put feet up on the coffee table by his.
After awhile I could take it no more. I wanted to allow myself to sit next to Luke, pressed to his side, in a happy, pretend world of what it could be like with Luke. Instead, I was freaking out wondering what he was playing at.
I got up announcing I was going to bed. Luke let me go without a word. I went to the bathroom, got ready for bed, spent some time trying to decide if the Triumph tee was the way to go (I went for it, it was snuggly) and I came out of the bathroom.
Hmm. Conundrum.
I should sleep on the couch, make a statement. But Luke was watching the game on the couch. I figured I could move to the couch later and I got in bed.
Half an hour later, Luke switched off the TV and I heard him moving around the loft. He turned off the lamp and he took off his clothes (probably dropping them to the floor, argh!). The bed moved and he got in.
I tensed. He didn’t touch me.
I kept tense. He still didn’t touch me.
This made me tenser.
My mind whirled. Maybe he’d given up. Maybe he thought I wasn’t worth the effort.
I didn’t know what to think of that. I should have been relieved but I had to admit I was not.
You really messed things up this time, Good Ava sounded angry.
That’s okay. Ren’s taking you out to dinner on Tuesday and Theresa Bianchi said he was a GOD in bed, Bad Ava was moving on to new game.
We don’t want Ren, we want Luke. We’ve ALWAYS wanted Luke, Good Ava snapped at Bad Ava.
We’ll take what we can get. Ren Zano is hardly sloppy seconds, that man is FINE, Bad Ava informed Good Ava.
I forced my body to relax and my mind to go blank. I was drifting off to sleep when Luke tagged me around the waist, turning me to my back.
“What are you doing?” I asked, finding myself instantly alert.
He didn’t answer. He covered me with his body and before I knew it his hands were in the Triumph tee and it was up and over my head. He didn’t pull it off, he stopped it when my arms were up, the tee bunched at my elbows.
I was taking this as a sign he hadn’t given up.
Ho-ly crap!
“What are you doing?” I screeched.
He twisted his torso, nabbed something off the nightstand and came back to me. I heard a clink and realized what was happening.
“No you don’t!” I bucked, twisted, struggled against his heavy weight and tried to shove off the tee.
Luke “helped” and the tee was gone in a flash. Wordlessly, he seized my wrists, slapped a bracelet on one and then, without apparent effort and clearly with a good deal of experience working with struggling people, the other and I was cuffed to the bed.
I stilled, a tremor of fear (and excitement, I had to admit) ran through me and I glared at him in the dimly lit dark.
“Uncuff me,” I demanded.
He ignored my demand and declared, “Now, payment.”
Ho-ly shit.
Definitely not giving up. His mouth came to my neck and ran the length of it. A shiver shuddered through me.
At my ear he said, “We’ll save punishment for later. Coupla days,” he informed me conversationally before his lips moved along my jaw then to my mouth. “You gave me a f**kin’ great idea.”
Uh-oh.
I didn’t think that I would think it was a great idea.
He went on, proving me irrevocably correct. “I’m thinkin’ I’ll watch while you make yourself come.”
Oh… my… God.
Me and my bright ideas. I was such a dork!
“Get off!” I cried.
He kissed me. I bucked and twisted these being the only options for me. He didn’t budge.
I tore my mouth from his. “Seriously, Luke, this is not cool.”
His hands ran down my sides and I couldn’t help it, my body trembled because his hands on me felt nice. I knew he felt it, he had to have felt it.
Hell and damnation.
“No?” he asked, sounding satisfied.
Yep, he felt it.
“Go to hell!” I snapped.
He touched his mouth to mine then he moved lower, his mouth on my neck, my throat. Then lower, spending some time at my br**sts. Then lower, at my belly. By the time his tongue traced the top edge of my panties, it was like I hadn’t had an orgasm a few hours ago; it was like I hadn’t had one in ten years.
He went lower and my legs opened immediately in invitation.
Damn it all to hell.
He kissed me over my panties. I moaned and lifted my hips, more than ready for him. His hands slid under my ass and that was it. All vows to vibrators and swearing off men were history.
This was quite simply hot. His mouth moved on me over my panties and it felt good. Even better, it felt naughty and slightly pervy not being able to touch him. I wanted to touch him, needed to put my hands to his head in encouragement, keep him there and not let him stop. Not being able to do that, having no control over the situation, was sexy as all hell.
