Rock Chick Revenge (Rock Chick #5)(124)

I went quiet.

We lay there for awhile, silent, holding on. The shakes left me and I eventually felt nothing in the world, nothing but our bed at Hotel Monaco, Luke and me in it.

Then out of nowhere something hit me, a flashback.

Not of Noah beating me up and touching me where I didn’t want him to, but a flashback of Luke. It was a flashback of when Luke took me for a ride on his new motorcycle when he was seventeen and I was thirteen.

His Mom wasn’t happy about the motorcycle but she kept this to herself (outside of telling my Mom). His Dad hated it and he didn’t keep it to himself. As usual he tore into Luke about it.

I loved the motorcycle and after I heard Luke have a rip roarin’ with his Dad and Luke slammed out of the house heading to the garage, I ran over and caught him. In my thirteen-year-old-girl usual blathering, dorky way, I told Luke I loved his motorcycle and I told him exactly how much.

When I was done, Luke smiled at me, the dark look fading from his face. I’d always loved it when I used to do that for him. It didn’t happen a lot, but it happened. Then he told me to hop on and I was so excited I did, without even thinking twice.

We rode for at least an hour and I thought I’d never forget that ride.

When we got home they were waiting for us in Luke’s driveway, Mr. Stark and my Mom. Luke’s Dad yelled at him for taking a thirteen year old out on a motorcycle without asking. My Mom yelled at him because she was a bitch.

Calm as could be (something that always pissed Luke’s Dad off, I knew not because I saw it but because I heard Mrs. Stark tell my Mom about it), Luke just said to his Dad, “I would never let anything happen to Ava.” Then he turned to me, touched my nose and said using The Voice, “Precious cargo.”

Oh… my… God.

Why hadn’t I remembered that? How could I ever forget that?

Finally, realization dawned.

I belonged to Luke. I was Luke’s woman.

Hell, I had probably been born to be Luke’s woman (if you believed that kind of shit).

I wasn’t going to St. Croix and I didn’t care about Jules and Roxie and Luke trying it on with them. Just like Daisy said, I was using that as an excuse to guard my heart.

Crapity, crap, crap, crap.

Not only that, Luke didn’t go gonzo about Noah probably because I asked him not to. He took me to a hotel when I freaked out at his loft. He made sure I had the Triumph tee. Lastly, he didn’t have a hissy fit when I stopped the festivities right when they were getting to the point of no return and held me, just like I needed.

So, not only did I belong to Luke, he was most definitely a Good Guy.

The warm melty feeling in my stomach could no longer be denied.

Shit.

This time my hand slid down his belly and my fingers wrapped around him.

He sucked in breath then said, “Ava.”

“Quiet, Luke,” I replied, rolled into him until he was on his back, climbed on top, guided him inside me and settled.

God, he felt nice.

I was chest to chest with him, my face pressed to his neck. “I could sleep like this,” I whispered.

“I know,” he replied and there was humor in his voice and my head came up so I could smile at him in the dark.

His hands slid up my back, one stopped midway to wrap around and the other one kept going and went into my hair.

“You mind movin’?” he asked.

“I guess I could do that,” I answered and I started moving, slowly, savoring it, letting it build. I would kiss him, he would kiss me, our hands would roam but it was as if we had all the time in the world. Luke let me control it completely, didn’t even try to take over. When I was close, I slid my hand down his arm and took his in mine then guided it between our bodies, straight to the target.

“Ava,” his voice was back to sounding rough and my name in that voice made my stomach turn (more) melty mixed with a shiver going through my body. His fingers pressed and rolled which made the melty stomach and shivery body intensify significantly.

“Yes,” I breathed.

I kept moving, he kept pressing and rolling, we kept kissing (in between panting) and eventually it hit me and when it did it was slow, long and nice. Seconds after mine was over, his hands went to my hips, holding me down on him tight, and it hit him.

He kept me where I was by wrapping his arms around me.

I pressed my face in his neck. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Babe, I’d do just about anything for you but you gotta know, that was no sacrifice.”

Wow.

He would do just about anything for me?

Ho-ly crap.

After he said that, I couldn’t help myself, I nuzzled into him.

Then because he said that, I took a huge risk and told him, “I’ve decided you’re a good guy.”

He pulled my hair away from my neck and replied, “About f**kin’ time.”

* * * * *

I woke up and it was just dawn. The sunlight was still weak and I woke because I felt I was alone in bed.

I sat up and looked around the room to find Luke sitting in an armchair wearing his black cargos, shirtless (as usual), leaned forward with elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

I could tell this was an unhappy position of masculine reflection.

For a second I got scared. Then I got out of bed, found the Triumph tee and tugged it on. He watched me move toward him and when I got close he pulled me into his lap and sat back in the chair. I felt a moment of relief that his unhappy masculine reflection didn’t include something that would mean he would never pull me into his lap again so I let my body relax and settled into him.