Rock Chick Revenge (Rock Chick #5)(64)

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.

He moved away and I made a sound of protest low in my throat. But he only moved to pull my panties down my legs. Then he was back and he hit the target immediately.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, bucking now to get closer to his mouth. I was out-of-control moaning and panting. I couldn’t help it and didn’t try.

It was better than that morning, it was better than my self-gratification that afternoon (far better), it was better than anything I’d ever had.

It was exquisite.

I was there, right there and I gasped, “Luke.”

Then his cell rang. His mouth stilled. Then his head came up.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Not again.

“No!” I cried aloud.

He moved up and over me. “Fuck,” he muttered, sounding pissed and full of regret at the same time.

It was the regret that penetrated my pre-orgasm fog.

I stared at him. “Go back. Don’t stop,” I whispered.

He kept his body on me but reached to the nightstand.

“Luke, please,” I begged and I didn’t care what I sounded like, this was not going to happen to me again.

“Sorry, babe. That’s Lee’s tone,” Luke whispered, hand at my jaw, thumb running along my lower lip. One thing you could say, he did sound sorry, very sorry. But I didn’t care that he sounded sorry, I didn’t care at all.

He flipped open the phone. “Yeah?”

This was not happening.

He listened for a few beats then said, “I’ll be there in ten.”

What?

He flipped the phone shut.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I breathed, half-still turned on, half-totally pissed off, not just at him but at myself.

“Lee’s workin’. He’s in a situation where he needs backup. The boys on call are busy with somethin’ else. I gotta go,” Luke told me.

I glared at him not knowing what to think.

He looked at me, likely sensing my mental battle to decide how I felt that he’d leave me in this state to go do backup for Lee so he said softly, “No way I’d leave, Ava, but Lee needs a man at his back. He knows you’re here and wouldn’t call unless it was important. I have to go.”

Fuck that.

I kept glaring at him. He ignored the glare and touched my mouth with his then moved away.

Then things, already bad, got worse.

He pulled the covers over my body but left me cuffed to the bed. Then he got up and started dressing. In stunned, angry silence, I watched him pull on his pants then tug on his shirt. He sat on the edge of the bed to put on his boots.

Finally I called, “Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you forget something?” I asked.

“What?”

“Uncuff me.”

He tugged on his second boot, twisted toward me and put his lips to my jaw. “Quick, three things,” he said there.

I got the feeling that these three things weren’t going to be good for me. My body, already solid with fury, felt like it was going to shatter in a million pieces.

He lifted his head but kept his face close to mine, his hand at my belly over the covers. “One,” he started. “Leavin’ you cuffed means you can’t do anything stupid.”

One, two, three, four…

“Two,” he continued. “I like thinkin’ of you cuffed na**d to my bed.”

Five, six, seven, eight…

“Three,” he went on. “This won’t take long and we’ll finish when I get back.”

Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…

Nope, it wasn’t going to work.

“You leave me cuffed, I’ll never speak to you again,” I told him.

“Babe,” now he sounded amused, “that’s a good thing. You got a mouth on you.”

Then to my utter disbelief, he was gone.

* * * * *

Luke had been wrong. It did take long. So long, I had time to let it penetrate that Luke was off somewhere being the man at Lee’s back during a “situation”. I didn’t want to care but I got worried. Then I got scared. The longer it took for him to come back, the more scared I became. I should have been scared about being cuffed to a bed if something happened to Luke, and thus, who knew how long it would take for someone to find me, if ever (I had, in my state, forgotten about the cameras). Instead, I was just scared for Luke.