Rock Chick Reckoning (Rock Chick #6)(59)
Author: Kristen Ashley

* * * * *

“Babe.” When I heard Mace’s voice, I opened my eyes and stared at the wal . It was light outside and I suspected it was late morning.

I felt delicious, cozy and relaxed. I could feel Mace’s hard I felt delicious, cozy and relaxed. I could feel Mace’s hard body behind me, his arm around my waist, his face in my hair.

I loved waking up to a bed warm with Mace. It was one of the seven hundred twenty-five thousand things I missed about him.

Shitsofuckit!

I’d done it again. I’d had sex with Mace. I’d let him spend the night with me. I’d even let him (mostly) move in with me!

What was I doing?

Mace’s arm tightened and his body got closer.

“Stel a, wake up.” I felt his deep voice rumble against the back of my neck making goose bumps rise along my skin.

“I’m awake,” I told him.

His arm tightened further, wrapping around my bel y and he kissed my neck.

“It’s late. Sorry to wake you up but I got shit to do.” I thought this was good. Mace having shit to do meant I’d have time to think, to plan, to get my head together.

“Okay,” I replied.

He nuzzled my hair with his nose but other than that, he didn’t move.

When his not moving lasted more than a few seconds, I cal ed, “Erm, Mace?”

“Yeah?”

“You have shit to do,” I reminded him.

“Yeah,” he answered but stil didn’t move.

“Wel , are you gonna do it?” I asked.

“I thought you wanted to talk.”

Oh, right.

Oh, right.

I wanted to talk.

This was true, I wanted to talk.

And something about him reminding me I wanted to talk and giving me that opportunity even though he had “shit to do” made me feel even cozier and more relaxed.

However, in the cold light of day but waking up in bed with warm Mace, I forgot what I wanted to talk about.

I searched my foggy brain for clues as to what I wanted to talk about when Mace’s arm moved, his hand splayed on my midriff, his body slid away and he pushed me to my back.

He leaned in, the front of his body pressed against my side; he got up on his elbow and looked down at me. His green eyes were warm and alert and I remembered again how much I liked the look of Mace first thing in the morning.

As I looked into his eyes, my brain stil foggy, stil feeling cozy and relaxed, my thoughts on Mace’s eyes (then they careened off in the direction of about seven thousand of the seven hundred twenty-five thousand other things about Mace I liked), he looked into mine. This lasted for a beat that turned into two then three then his mouth moved and he looked like he was fighting a smile.

“Kitten, I don’t have al day,” he told me and my head jerked, pul ing me out of my Mace Happy Thoughts Reverie.

Shit!

Okay.

Concentrate.

The Talk with Mace…

It came to me.

“You’re screwing with my head,” I informed him and there was no doubt about it and I had the last five minutes as evidence. He was definitely screwing with my head.

His reply was instantaneous. “Yeah. And?” I blinked with surprise at his ready answer.

Then I stared.

He didn’t even try to deny it.

Al fogginess left me and my mind became clear. I did an ab curl to sitting position, dislodging his body and twisted to face him.

“Wel , stop doing it!” I demanded.

He did an ab curl too, his hands came to my waist and he lifted me over his body. Then he yanked my knees to bent so I was straddling him and his knees came up, caging me in as his arms wrapped around me.

I pushed against his bare chest and pressed into the bed with my knees.

This didn’t work.

“Mace, let me up.”

He didn’t let me up.

“Stel a, I got about ten minutes then I gotta get going. You got more you want to say?”

I quit trying to get away, stunned at his arrogance and annoyed that he was ignoring my wishes (yet again) and snapped, “Hel yes!”

“Then say it.”

“Al right. I’l say it. Or, I should say, I’l repeat it. I want you to move out. I want this to be over, whatever this is, right effing now. I want you to quit screwing with my head. And I want you to stop interfering with my band.”

“No.”

I waited for him to say more but apparently that was it.

“No?” I asked.

“No,” he repeated, like that was that then he went on.

“That al you got?”

I was back to my stunned, annoyed staring.

I just could not believe him.

He waited then leaned up to touch his mouth to mine and made a move to shift me off his body as if our talk was over, al was hunky dory, he was going to exit the bed and get on with the rest of his day.

Erm… no.

We were not done.

I put my hands to his shoulders and pressed down, locking my thighs at his hips.

“Hang on a second,” I said.

Mace stil ed and started to look impatient.

Amused, but impatient.

“Stel a, in case you forgot, I got a bad guy to catch.”

“I know that but we aren’t done talking.”

“If that’s what you want to talk about then we are.”

“We aren’t!”

“We are.”

“Damn it, Mace!”

His hands on my waist got tighter and his face came closer and that face had lost its amusement and was now very serious.

“This is how it’s gonna go down,” Mace stated, his voice firm.

Effing hel .

I don’t think I want to know how it’s gonna go down, my brain sounded kind of scared.

I don’t either, I told my brain.

“You’re obviously gonna fight it and that’s fine, I already told you I’m happy to take you on. We both know where we stand with this; we’re goin’ over old ground. You gotta know, though, that this kind of fight, there aren’t any rules. If it means I gotta f**k with your head then I’m gonna f**k with your head. You don’t like it, tough.”

Did I say he was unbelievable?

In case I didn’t, he was just unbelievable!

“I don’t like it,” I returned. “As I already told you, I’m not going there again. Not with you.”

“You’re already there,” he informed me.

“I am not!” I snapped back.

The amusement returned. “Babe, you’re sitting na**d in my lap on the morning after a night where you begged to suck my –”

I put a hand over his mouth to stop his words and drowned out the muffled noise with a sharp, angry scream that came from the back of my throat.