My temper-hold slipped so much, my hands went to my hips, my foot came out and the Barlow Bitch Blood started to flash through my veins.
“You were straight, Luke, so I’ll be straight too and this time I want you to listen,” I told him, voice chock full of attitude. “I’ve had a pretty hectic day, what with Dom’s Streetcar Named Desire antics and you fighting with Ren in a parking lot, though I still cannot believe you fought in the parking lot of a bar. And ended up bloody in the process! Then throwing a light across the room for God’s sake. I mean, who does that? Now you’re going to have to go out and buy a new lamp and that was a nice lamp. And I want to know, who’s going to clean it up? Not me, I’ll tell you that right now. Next time I throw a lamp, I’ll clean it up. New rule, the person that throws the lamp cleans it up.”
I took a deep breath, mainly because I’d run out of oxygen, and kept on going. “Not to mention all your straight talk. No one talks like you. It’s nuts. And you should know it freaks me way the hell out.”
I watched as Luke threw the covers back and got out of bed. For the first time, I took this as the warning sign it was but I was pissed off enough that I held my stance even as he walked toward me, his naked and, even though he was fuzzy without my contacts in (it must be said), magnificent body illuminated by the streetlights.
I ignored the thrill of fear (and the thrill of something else entirely) running down my spine and kept ranting. “So, I’m out of patience with all this,” I told him in my best bitchy tone and tilted my head back to squint at him when he stopped within a few inches of me. I lifted my finger and started poking him in the chest repeatedly to make my point. “Get it through that skull of yours, Lucas Stark, we’re fuck buddies, end of story. Nothing more. Furthermore,” I went on, warming to my theme and still poking him. “I’m going to warn you that if you keep me cornered, you’ll have to face the consequences.”
I had no idea what consequences he would face but I thought it sounded good.
I stopped ranting and Luke just looked at me.
Finally, he asked, “You through?”
I thought about it a second then said, “Yeah.”
His hand shot up and his fingers wrapped around my wrist. I thought he’d jerk me to him but instead he lifted my hand, his thumb sliding across my palm to open my fist and then he brought my hand to his mouth.
I watched in fascinated silence as he kissed my palm and I felt, with a definite knee wobble, his tongue touch me there.
Ho-ly crap.
That was nice.
Just as quickly as I lost control of my temper, I lost control again, this time it was my temper that slid away.
When he took my hand from his mouth, he used my wrist to pull me toward him slowly.
As I moved toward him, he asked me, “You wanna do it against the wall again?”
I blinked to try to clear the Luke Palm-Tongue-Touch Fog and, even though I seriously liked wall sex, I said, “No, absolutely not.”
“The floor?” Luke asked, still pulling me to him and I felt my breasts brush against his chest just as I felt my stomach pitch deliciously.
“I’m sleeping on the futon,” I persevered, valiantly ignoring my stomach.
In turn, he ignored my declaration and asked in a soft, sexy voice, “You wanna take a bath together?”
Hmm, taking a bath with Luke. Wow, I figured that would be nice, his skin all wet, soapy and slippery.
Get a hold of yourself, girl! neither Good Ava nor Bad Ava said, instead this came direct from my brain.
I shook my head sharply to clear it and stomped my foot on the floor.
“No!” I snapped.
I was nearly full frontal with him when his other hand came up to toy with a short, Grandma ruffle at my high collar.
“You buy this?” he asked, changing the subject and I found myself blinking in confusion again.
“No. Mom bought it for me for Christmas.”
“You like it?” he went on.
For some reason I answered honestly, “Not particularly.”
Before I knew what he was about, his hand fisted on the collar, he gave a rough yank and the material tore from collar to waist.
I sucked in a stunned breath and stood stock-still as his other hand came to the tear and he used both hands to rip it again, straight to the hem.
“We’ll fuck in your bed then,” he finished calmly, sliding the material off my shoulders and it fell on the floor at my feet. Then his fingers hooked into my panties and he slid them down until they joined the torn nightgown on the floor.
I didn’t make a move or a noise. I couldn’t. I was in shock.
He picked me up and still I didn’t move to resist mainly because I was in the throes of such a huge freak out it had to be the hugest freak out I’d ever experienced. In fact, it might have been the hugest freak out in the history of the world.
Luke Stark, the boy from across the street, just literally tore my clothes off.
Ho-ly shit.