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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Rock Chick 05 Revenge (72 page)

BOOK: Rock Chick 05 Revenge
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“Apparently Roxie’s new dress has a back zip that she can’t reach,” Hank sounded partly amused, partly like he wasn’t intent on getting home to zip
up
the dress, but rather the other way around. Little did he know that I knew her dress didn’t even have a zip so someone was about to get lucky.

On that thought, I smiled to myself, ran to the bags, grabbed the ones I needed then ran to the bathroom.

“See you all there,” I called over my shoulder and slammed the door to the bathroom.

I pulled off my clothes and jumped in the shower.

* * * * *

The six weeks since my troubles finished hadn’t exactly been uneventful.

First up, we had the family meeting. Uncle Vito surprisingly stayed quiet while Dom tried to talk Sissy into giving him another chance. Ren and I kept quiet too even though I really,
really
didn’t want to and I could see Ren felt the same way. In the end, we didn’t have to say anything. Sissy told Dom to go jump in a lake and walked out of the room. I looked at the Zanos then gave out hugs (yes, even one to Dom, mainly because he looked like his world just came to an end) and followed her.

It wasn’t over. Not by half.

For the next month, Dom pursued Sissy like a man possessed. It appeared that not only did the shot she took to the face wake up the protective, hot-blooded, Italian husband but Sissy’s bitchy attitude was turning him on. Big time.

He ended up kidnapping her.

Which meant I ended up calling in Luke and the boys (again).

Luke and Vance found them in a condo in Vail but he came back sans Sissy.

“Why did you leave her there?” I demanded when he arrived at my place in the dead of night, woke me up and told me he found Sissy but didn’t have her.

“Babe,” he said, sitting on the bed and taking off his boots.

I waited for him to say more. He didn’t.

“Luke!” I snapped.

He twisted, angled onto the bed, landed full on top of me and my breath went out in a whoosh.

“They worked it out,” he told me after I’d sucked oxygen back into my lungs.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “She thinks he’s scum.”

“They worked it out,” he repeated.

“I don’t believe that.”

“Trust me, they worked it out.”

“How do you know? Did Sissy say that? Sometimes Dom can be –”

“Babe, trust me. I wouldn’t leave her there if I didn’t think it was a good thing.”

That shut me up because Luke really wouldn’t do that.

“Oh, all right,” I finally grumbled.

“Now.” His eyes were ink. “Let’s talk about what you owe me for finding her.”

I didn’t quibble. I’d learned that quick payback for the many times I fell in debt with Luke was definitely the way to go.

Anyway, every single time I was pretty certain I got more out of it than Luke did.

Second up, just as he promised, we had stayed at my place until the blinds were put in at the loft then we moved to his. We still weren’t sure which way to go. I liked my back porch and funky office. Luke liked the loft’s security and central location. In the end, Luke told me to do what I had to do to make the loft mine, thus the dining room table (so Tex, Mr. Kumar, Uncle Vito and I could play euchre which we did, quite a bit) and a variety of girlie things for the kitchen (but not too girlie, I bought all the KitchenAid appliances in black, the rest in black or red). Luke had my furniture moved into storage and had an agency rent out my place. The plan was we’d keep both properties, if we decided to move to my place later, we’d still have it to move to.

It was a decent compromise.

Even though I didn’t share it with Luke, I didn’t really care where we lived, just as long as we ended the day, and started a new one, in the same bed.

Last, the New Mom and apparently the New Marilyn and Sofia were driving me up the flipping wall. They had let me into the Barlow Bombshell Club which meant daily phone calls, lots of unsolicited advice on everything under the sun and constant getting into my (and Luke’s) business. At first, I thought it was kind of cool. Then I found it kind of annoying.

When I complained about it to Luke while lying full out on the couch, Luke on his back, being Zen, me pressed into his side, not reading the book I had propped on his chest, Luke said, “Gotta choose, babe, they are who they are. Either you’re in the club or you’re out.”

I sighed. He was right yet again. In the club it was.

I got out of the shower, did the whole celebration preparation on body (the peony-scented lotion, Luke’s favorite), hair (loose and wild, Luke’s favorite) and makeup (party time drama, no other choice, it was party time) and turned to my shopping bags.

I’d brought in the shoes but grabbed the wrong bag of clothes. My party dress was still on the dining room table.

To save time (which was slipping away fast), I tugged off my robe, put on the undies and strapped on the shoes (Tod found them at Nordstrom’s, metallic purple, high, spike-heeled, strappy sandals) and ran out to get the dress.

I stopped in mid-run. Luke was standing in the kitchen, head back, muscular throat on display, finishing a beer.

He had on a charcoal gray suit, a shirt the same color, throat exposed at the collar. I hadn’t seen him in a suit since his father’s funeral.

Luke looks good,
Good Ava breathed, hand at her neck.

No, Luke looks GOOD,
Bad Ava was fanning her face

They were not wrong. Luke didn’t look good, Luke looked
good
.

“You look good,” I told him.

His head came down, his gaze came to me and he went still.

“Jesus,” he muttered, eyes doing a body sweep.

I came unstuck from my Luke-Looking-Good Fog and ran to the dining room table.

“I grabbed the wrong bag,” I started sorting through bags then asked Luke, “Can you grab my perfume?”

He didn’t grab my perfume. Instead, I felt his heat at my back, he leaned forward and I had no choice but to lean with him. He did an arm swipe, the bags went flying and I felt his hand pressing in the middle of my back.

“Luke,” I said, my eyes on the bags on the floor, my voice stunned.

Then he pushed me down toward the table as the thumb of his other hand hooked into my panties, yanking them down to just below my hips.

Oh wow.

My special girlie parts quivered.

“Luke!” I gasped.

He didn’t answer. He kept me pressed to the table even though I tried to come up. His hand was moving at my bottom, I heard his belt clink, his zipper, then without warning, he slid inside me.

I stopped trying to rise and my arms, of their own volition, slid straight out in front of me, palms flat against the table, my bottom pushing into Luke’s hips.

“Luke.” It came out a lot different this time, his hand left my back and both went to my hips, holding me still as he moved.

My breath started coming heavy.
 

Like everything with Luke, this was
hot
.

I moved with him, made happy noises low in my throat then he slid out, swept my panties down to my ankles, twisted me around and lifted me onto the table. He pulled the panties, which were tangled at my shoes, free, tossed them aside and moved between my legs, lifted my hips and slid inside me again, bending his torso over mine.

I lifted my head, one of his hands stayed at my hip while he slammed into me, the fingers of his other hand slid into my hair and he kissed me, long, deep, wet and lots of tongue.

“We’re going to be late,” I panted when his mouth disengaged.

“Don’t fuckin’ care,” he said back, his voice rough.

My hands came up, one curled around his neck, the other went to his jaw, my thumb trailing his ‘tache while my hooded eyes stayed locked on his mouth.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured as my thumb moved to trace his bottom lip.

“I could live my life, you inside me,” I whispered back.

He stopped stroking and ground in deep. Shivers slid through me and I licked my lips. His eyes went molten and he kissed me again.

Mouth against mine, he admitted, “Got no control when it comes to you.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I was getting close, my voice hitched in the middle of the sentence and I was losing focus.

He didn’t answer my question, instead, eyes on mine, he muttered, “Give it to me, babe.”

“What?” I asked but I didn’t wait for his answer, it hit me, it was magnificent, I felt it rush through me as I said his name softly and smiled.

“That’s just the way I like it,” Luke whispered against my smiling mouth while I came.

Then his lips pressed hard against mine, he drove into me one last time and he groaned into my mouth.

* * * * *

“I knew that was the dress for you girlie,” Tod told me. “Your man is over there looking at you like he’s spent the last year at a males-only monastery in the depths of a mountain range, inaccessible by cars and a treacherous, death-defying two week walk from civilization.”

I looked at Luke and Tod was right, he was looking at me. However, Tod was wrong, Luke wasn’t looking like he wanted me, he was looking like he had already had me and he liked what I gave him.

My knees wobbled.

“We did it on the dining room table before we got here,” I told Tod.

“Mm-hmm. Like I said, the dress,” Tod replied.

My dress was pretty, though it was not me but Stevie convinced me I could make it work. It was girlie, floaty and lavender. It had twisted material to make straps, it showed lots of chest but not lots of cleavage, the bodice was cut on a slant, a wispy tear of material falling from it. It fit close and fell on a floaty slant at the hem, exposing one knee and a lot of leg on one side. The back was low, just above my bra strap. It was demure on the face of it but the way it clung and moved was seductive as all hell.

“I hadn’t even gotten my dress on yet. I was still in my undies,” I shared.

Tod turned to me, mouth open then he looked back at Luke. “Swear to God, these boys should be locked up. It isn’t safe, men with that much testosterone coursing through their blood free to roam.”
 

Daisy came storming up to us. She was wearing an ice blue, body-hugging, strapless dress, the bodice held up by what could only be a miracle.

“Where are they?” she snapped.

“How should I know?” Tod asked.

“Did you call Indy?” Daisy shot back.

“No, I don’t want to disturb her,” Tod told her.

“Why not?” Daisy’s voice was rising. “The hors d’oeuvres are getting cold and I talked Tex into wearing a suit and I think he’s beginning to get cranky.”

Our eyes swung to Tex and it did appear he was getting cranky. We knew this because cranky energy was emanating from him and he was fiddling with the tie knotted at his throat.

“I didn’t call her because this
is
a wedding, Daisy. I didn’t want to interrupt,” Tod explained.

“I cannot
believe
we weren’t invited,” Daisy groused.

“Daisy, girlie, we are invited. We’re here aren’t we? They just wanted the ceremony small,” Tod returned.

“I know, but still,” Daisy gave in but still sounded put out.

Tod put his arm around her shoulders. “You did a good job with decorations and I like the waiters you chose, you’ve got an eye for fine male ass.”

I looked around Fortnum’s which had been closed for a private party.

It had been transformed and somehow (you had to give Daisy credit, as Head Party Planner she’d done a bang-up job), it was tasteful and elegant. The normal coffee house furniture had been carted away and replaced by chairs covered in white linen as well as white wicker tables. Festive white balloons and clear Christmas lights were everywhere, even lining the ceiling. The place was awash with white peonies in big glass vases. Handsome waiters carrying trays filled with glasses of champagne or hot hors d’oeuvres were wandering around and light, classical music was playing.

We had done the decorating ourselves and as a wedding gift paid for the party, although everyone bought real gifts, just because.

Shirleen and Daisy sprung for the waiters and the furniture rental. Tod, Stevie, Smithie, Tex and Duke got together and paid for the catering. Roxie, Jet, Ally and I bought all the flowers and decorations. Lee and Indy, of course, insisted on springing for the booze.

Luke materialized at my side, his lips coming to my neck giving me an immediate and involuntary shiver, just as Roxie (wearing pale pink, boat-necked front, slim-skirt brushing the knees, back completely bare) rushed up and whispered with excitement, “They’re here.”

“They’re here!” Shirleen (in turquoise from head to foot, even her wild Afro had turquoise glitter sprayed in it) cried from across the room, nearly bouncing up and down with excitement.

I turned to Luke and looked up at him. “They’re here,” I breathed.

BOOK: Rock Chick 05 Revenge
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