Rock Chick Revenge (Page 15)
Rock Chick Revenge (Rock Chick #5)(15)
Author: Kristen Ashley
“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 br**sts. 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.
Then it all came back to me and I tensed. Inventorying my situation I realized I was pressed against Luke’s side, he was on his back, our cuffed arms on the bed under our bodies, my thigh thrown across both of his, my head on his shoulder, my free arm resting across his abs.
Ho-ly shit!
I rolled away onto my back.
“You’re awake,” Luke said.
Fuckity, f**k, f**k, f**k!
“Yeah,” I said to the ceiling.
He rolled toward me, hand going to my hip, his fingers putting pressure there so I turned into him and we were face-to-face. Since we were close and it was light, I could see him pretty well. He looked very awake, very alert and very gorgeous.
Holy cramoly.
“Time to talk,” he said.
Eek!
I was a morning person. I usually only had to brush my teeth and have a couple sips of diet cola to clear out the sleep-cobwebs and then I was all morning energy. Still, I wasn’t ready to talk, certainly not lying face-to-face in Luke’s bed.
“I need to brush my teeth,” I told him.
“After we talk.”
“No, seriously, I can’t face the day without brushing my teeth.” As I mentioned before, this was the truth.
He stared at me, probably trying to decide if I was lying or not. I didn’t blame him. I had lied to him a lot in the last less than twenty-four hours.
He must have made his decision because he rolled into me, over me and reached to the nightstand, opened a drawer and pulled out his keys. He rolled back, lifted our wrists and unlocked my bracelet. I was silent through this as I’d had another close-up view of his chest and I was fighting the urge to press my mouth to it (and I won’t even mention what I wanted to do with my tongue).
The minute I was free I didn’t hesitate. I jumped off the bed, hightailing it to the bathroom, totally intent on escape. It was after I used the facilities, splashed water on my face to wash away the sleep, brushed my teeth and put in my contacts that I realized my mistake.
I should have brought my clothes in with me.
Hell and damnation.
I pulled my hair back away from my face with both hands and stared into my light brown eyes the mirror (both my sisters had sultry, dark brown eyes, which sucked and wasn’t fair, I couldn’t dye my eyes and colored contacts I thought looked fake).
Since I couldn’t at that moment do anything about the fact that I was barely dressed, I focused on what to do with my hair.
Last time I saw Luke, my hair had been shoulder length. I’d only gone for trims since then allowing my hair to grow long, down my back to my bra strap with thick, chunky layers cut in. It had always had an unruly wave, and length and weight had done nothing to tame it, in fact it went all the more wild. I needed a ponytail holder. It was now a mess of waves and tangles and currently in an untamable state without a shampoo and a shitload of product to force it under my control.
Oh well, what the hell. I had to go with it. No way was I taking a shower in Luke’s bathroom for this would mean being na**d and there was no way in hell I was going to be na**d at Luke’s place, not even in the shower.
I dropped my hands, walked out of the bathroom and stopped dead.
A man was walking out of the elevator carrying my purse. He was blond, trim, fit and ultra cute. His eyes cut to me and took me in, top to toe, standing there frozen and wearing nothing but Luke’s Triumph tee.
Then he grinned.
Crap.
His eyes moved to Luke. So did mine.
Luke was standing by the semi-circle kitchen counter, wearing only shorts (yes, black) that were made of that breathable material with the tiny little dents in it like basketball players wore. They hung loose and super low on his hips, running long (but not as long as the basketball ones), partially down his thighs. They showed not only the definition of his hip bones in sexy relief but most of a pair of knockout muscular thighs and calves. I would be remiss not to mention a full blown, sunny loft, contacts in view of his well-defined chest with not-too-much, not-too-little, but just the perfect amount of chest hair, jutting collarbone and stubbled jaw.
There was also a long, brutal looking scar tracing across his six pack.
Ho-ly crap.
My knees wobbled at the sight.
“Shit, Luke, I had two days in the pool. Christ, you tied Lee’s record,” the blond guy said.
Luke did a half-grin.
“What?” I asked.
The blond guy looked at me, still grinning. “Nothin’,” he said. “I’m Matt.”
I pulled out of my mini-hot guy trance and walked toward him. “I’m Ava.”
“I know,” he was still grinning, his blue eyes dancing. I figured I wasn’t in on the joke but let it slide considering I had to focus on getting dressed and getting out of there without having Luke’s “talk”.