Rock Chick Revenge

by Ashley, Kristen

  When I wasn’t freaked out that I was lying, in my undies, in Lucas Stark’s bed (which was, at the beginning, my prevailing thought), I found this show of kindness disturbing but in a good way. I was trying very hard to hold on to thoughts of him being an ultra pushy, unbelievably blunt, tough guy, macho man and Sandra Whoever-She-Was crying into her M&Ms. But it was hard when underneath everything Luke did it seemed like he truly was a nice guy trying to protect me and keep me safe (but in an ultra pushy, unbelievably blunt, tough guy, macho man way).

  Then again I thought that about Rick when he promised not to cheat on me, and Noah when he worked so hard to win me before screwing me over. And mostly my Dad when I thought it was him and me against the Barlow Super Bitches and he left me.

  Slowly, as Luke worked at my back, all these thoughts sifted out of my head and I fell asleep.

  That was it.

  Except for Luke’s weird habit of rolling me to the other side of the bed every night, all we did was sleep.

  I pulled the covers to my neck and was about to move to my second mental topic, how to successfully flee to Wyoming, when the bathroom door opened. That was when I realized my mistake. I should have gotten up and got dressed.

  Instead, like the big dork I was, I lay in bed and let my mind wander, so much so I hadn’t even heard the shower go off.

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.

  When was I going to learn?

  I reviewed my options, waited for Good Ava and Bad Ava to give their input (they were still sleeping, which figured, always chattering away when you didn’t want them to and never there when you needed them) and decided to pretend that I was still asleep. In fact, if I was good at it, maybe Luke would get sick of waiting and go out and hunt down my ex-boyfriends and beat the shit of them while I escaped and drove to Wyoming.

  I was putting this plan into action, eyes closed, when I felt the bed depress as Luke sat on it.

  Uh-oh.

  I continued to feign sleep. The covers slid down my body.

  Ee-yikes!

  Luke may have felt gentlemanly enough to let me sleep after his rubdown but he hadn’t been gentlemanly enough to put my tee back on me. Therefore, I was wearing nothing but my satin panties.

  First, I had a silent freak out that I slept next to Luke mostly naked. Then I had a silent freak out that he could see most of my body. I didn’t know what Jennifer Aniston looked like naked (and didn’t want to know) and I was probably far off that mark but Riley hadn’t done badly with me. Still, I wasn’t ready for this.

  Un-unh.

  No way.

  Luckily, I had the pillow pressed to my belly so all he could see was my naked back. Covers gone, the bed moved and I felt heat against my back as Luke settled in. This was not getting any better.

  Then I was turned.

  Seriously not better.

  I held the pillow close to me like a shield still pretending to sleep. Luke tugged it gently and I had to make the decision whether or not to let it go. If I held on to it for dear life like I wanted to he’d know I was awake which would foil my plan.

  I let it go.

  Second string defense, I moved my body into his to cover myself, pressing my chest to his, tucking my face into his throat and snuggling in, in the hopes that he would think I was giving him a sleep cuddle.

  This was a bad idea. I knew it the minute my mostly naked body hit his bare chest. It felt nice, as in ultra nice.

  Shit.

  “Ava,” he called my name softly, his arms around me, one hand sliding up my back, fingers of the other hand trailing across the top, lacy edge of my underwear.

  I kept pretending to sleep. This was hard, the trailing touch at my underwear felt good.

  His fingers went into my hair at the back of my head. “Babe, wake up.”

  Hmm.

  I couldn’t ignore him much longer, he would think I was dead.

  I was realizing my plan was going south, way south, when his fingers sifted through my hair a few inches then twisted around it. I felt his hand fist and my head was pulled back gently.

  Not good.

  I felt his mouth against mine.

  Worse!

  “Babe,” he said against my lips and I couldn’t pull it off anymore. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

  As his lips were against mine, I was close enough to see, even without my contacts, his eyes were ink.

  “Hey,” I whispered and luckily my voice sounded sleepy.

  “Hey,” he said against my mouth and something about that soft word, said by Luke, in his bed, in the morning, against my mouth made me melt.

  When my body pressed deeper into him, his eyes went molten and that was it. No more stall tactics. I was going to be screwed, literally.

  He kissed me. Maybe I should have pushed it, torn away and stood firm to my vows. But he was a seriously good kisser.

  Added to that, our mostly naked bodies were pressed up against each other. His chest hair felt sexy-rough against my breasts and his hand at my underwear was keeping up the lovely torture.

  And this was Lucas Stark and he had always, in my heart, been my special guy.

  I gave up the ghost and kissed him back. When I did, he groaned into my mouth, rolling me to my back, him on top of me. The groan sounded and felt good, so good I wrapped my arms around him and started to explore with my hands, wanting to make him do it again.

  This was when I discovered he was naked, mainly because my fingers drifted over his tight ass.

  Holy cramoly.

  Nice.

  His head came up and I focused on him, barely. I was half in a Luke Lip Fog and half in a Luke Tight Ass Fog. I knew my eyes were hooded and I was already breathing heavily.

  “Christ,” he muttered. “You look like that after I kiss you, what are you gonna look like when I make you come?”

  My hands slid up his back and I answered him even though his question wasn’t one you answered. “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  “Let’s find out,” he murmured against my mouth.

  I found myself thinking that was a great idea.

  Then Luke got down to “giving me the business”.

  I discovered in short order that Luke’s lips were not just good at kissing. They were good at a lot of things. They were good at my neck, behind my ear, trailing down my chest and they were especially good at my breasts.

  In what seemed like five minutes (but was longer, time flies when you’re getting so turned on you feel like you’re going to explode) he had me wild. I gave Bad Ava what she wanted and I tasted more of Luke, my tongue and mouth moving to any piece of skin that came near it, my hands drifting, my nails dragging. I wanted all of him, every rock-solid inch I could get (and every one I encountered was just that) and for some reason I wasn’t scared that he knew it.

  He released my nipple after a delicious tug and a finishing swirl of the tongue and came back over me, kissing me again, hard, wild, his tongue teasing me and making me follow it which I did, gladly. Then his hips slid to my side, his mouth still kissing me and his hand went into my panties. I gasped against his tongue as with no fooling around, no fumbling, no exploration, no hesitation, his finger hit the target.

  “Holy crap,” I whispered against his mouth, my eyes flying open.

  He was watching me, his gaze so hot I felt the heat of it through my body.

  “You’re dripping wet,” he told me, his voice sexy-hoarse. Before I could react to this statement, his mouth came to mine again; my eyes stayed open and so did his. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to get a taste of you,” he said against my mouth in a fierce way that I knew he really meant it and his finger did an unbelievable roll that was so good, my neck arched and I sucked in breath.

  My arms were around him, the fingers of one hand at the back of his head but at the roll my other hand went to his wrist, holding it steady, telling him I wanted more.

  “Ava,” he muttered and my chin dipped to look at him.

  “Do that again,” I murmured
.

  He did as I asked. I couldn’t help it, even though my eyes were mostly closed I felt myself smile.

  “Fuck,” he muttered against my mouth and his finger slid inside me.

  My hips moved pressing against his hand and his finger slid out then in then again and again. My hand stayed wrapped around his wrist as his finger worked me, my other hand still at his head. I pressed up, not just my hips, my whole body, seeking contact with his and he didn’t disappoint me, pressing his body into me.

  His finger slid out of me while he kissed me, his tongue sliding in my mouth as his finger did another roll, right on target, followed by another one then another one. I stopped kissing him, ready, close, my mouth against his panting. I opened my eyes to see him watching me and I knew he liked what he saw and I found that I liked that he liked what he saw.

  “Show me,” he muttered, his voice a deep rumble and at the sound, I felt it coming, my tongue wet my lips and it was then the fucking door buzzer went.

  His finger stopped rolling, his head jerked up and my body stilled. Then the door buzzer went again this time for longer. This was difficult to ignore. It became worse when Luke’s phone rang. Both of these were impossible to ignore. But then my purse started ringing.

  “You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” Luke snarled.

  The buzzer silenced then started again immediately.

  Luke’s hand moved away, his arms wrapped around me and he rolled, taking me with him and knifing to a sitting position on the side of the bed, me in his lap. He snatched the phone out of its cradle and growled into it, “This better be fuckin’ good.”

  I was still out of it, trying to wrap my thoughts around this terrible turn of events when Luke said, “Ma?”

  Oh… my… God.

  I was sitting, nearly naked (Luke was naked) in Luke’s lap, post-nearly-having-a-Lucas-Stark-induced-orgasm (something I’d wanted since I was sixteen and learned what they were) and Mrs. Stark was on the phone.

  This was not happening.

  I tried to tug away but Luke’s arm went tight and his eyes sliced to me.

  “I’ll buzz you in,” he said, looking at me.

  Eek!

  My mouth dropped open and my eyes bugged out, totally affecting a Sissy Gawk. He put the phone down.

  “My mother’s here,” he told me, totally calm (though his eyes were still ink).

  I didn’t have time for inky eyes. I flew into a tizzy.

  “Holy crap. Oh my God. Holy crap,” I chanted as I pulled out of his lap and threw myself on the bed, crawling over it to the other side where Luke tossed the Triumph tee last night. I nabbed it from the floor and whipped my legs around into a sitting position, my back to Luke, and tugged it on. Then I snatched my glasses off the nightstand and slid them on my nose.

  I jumped up, ready to sprint to the bathroom and ran headlong into Luke whose arms closed around me.

  “Ava, calm down.”

  I tilted my head to look up at him. “Mrs. Stark is here!” I shouted.

  He grinned. What there was to grin about, I did not know but I didn’t have time to ask.

  “Let me go. I need to get dressed. You need to get dressed.”

  I looked down and saw he was wearing his cargos.

  Thank God for that.

  I gave another tug but his arms went tighter.

  “Babe, seriously, calm down. Ma likes you. She’s always liked you.”

  I stared at him again in a gawk.

  I knew this, of course. Mrs. Stark had always been nice to me. She was a nice lady. I sometimes wondered why she was friends with my Mom but then again she was friends with everybody.

  “I know that, Luke, but she doesn’t want to catch me up here with you going commando in your cargos and me in nothing but a Triumph tee and a pair of panties.”

  “She’ll do fuckin’ cartwheels. She’s hated every woman I’ve ever dated.”

  Whoa.

  Whoa, whoa, whoa.

  That had to go so deep. I needed to bury it next to the molten core at the center of the earth.

  I tried to pull away but it was too late, the elevator doors were opening. My head snapped toward the doors and I froze, still standing in Luke’s arms as Mrs. Stark walked out of the elevator.

  This is interesting, Bad Ava said, sounding sleepy.

  Good Ava yawned. What’d I miss?

  Mrs. Stark turned, she had a small smile on her face but it went wonky when she caught sight of us standing across the room. Luke didn’t drop his arms and as I was frozen, my hands resting on either side of his chest under his shoulders, I didn’t move.

  Luke looked like his Dad. His Mom was petite, kinda round, she had blonde hair but now it was mostly gray (and she left it at that). She was a motherly-type mom who dressed like a mom, talked like a mom and acted like a mom. Therefore she stood there wearing a pair of slacks with a neatly pressed crease, a flouncy blouse, a set of classy but mom-like pumps with short heels, appropriately-sized earrings and her hair had obviously been recently set.

  “Oh my,” she said softly, her eyes moving to her son. “Luke you should have –”

  “Hey Mrs. Stark,” I broke in nervously, taking my hands off Luke’s chest and turning. One of his arms dropped away from me, the other one kept me close to his side by slicing across my waist, his fingers putting pressure at my hip.

  Mrs. Stark blinked.

  I hadn’t seen her since her husband’s funeral. Considering her son’s reaction to the new me, I felt it was a good idea to cut to the chase.

  “It’s Ava,” I said.

  “Ava,” she repeated and kept looking at me. After a beat, the light dawned and she whispered, “Ava.” Then her eyes moved to Luke then back to me then to Luke. Then, I kid you not, she looked like she was going to burst into tears.

  “I just need to…” Her head swung around, for some reason frantically. She spied the bathroom and started toward it. “Freshen up.” She disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.

  I whirled on Luke and, completely at a loss for words, leaned forward, hands straight down to my sides in fists and glared.

  He took one look at me and burst into laughter. I lifted up both hands and gave him a big, old shove. He didn’t move back with the shove (of course). Instead, his arms closed around me and he pulled me close, his face went to my neck and he was still laughing so I could feel it against my skin.

  “Babe,” he said against my neck when he finished laughing.

  “I hate you,” I whispered.

  His head came up and he was full on smiling which made my knees do a wobble, even though I was angry.

  “No you don’t,” he whispered back.

  I pulled out of his arms, ran to my suitcases and at least had a pair of jeans on by the time Mrs. Stark got out of the bathroom.

  “Well, sorry about that. Nature calls,” she said, blushing even though the toilet didn’t flush and her eyes were looking funny.

  I walked up to her, lips pressed together. “Mrs. Stark, I’m sorry if I upset you –”

  Her head did a little jerk to the side. “Upset me? Oh, Ava, dear, you didn’t upset me.”

  Then she walked right up to me and gave me a tight hug. Automatically, I wrapped my arms around her, confused. I thought she’d escaped to the bathroom to burst into tears of devastation that her handsome, tough guy, macho man, shit-hot, rich enough to retire at twenty-eight (now thirty-three) son had the likes of Ava Barlow in his loft.

  Apparently this was not the case.

  She pulled back and her hands went to squeeze my upper arms. “Well, look at you,” she smiled at me. “You always were a pretty little thing but now,” she leaned in. “You aren’t even giving Marilyn and Sofia a run for their money. You’ve left them in the dust,” she told me quietly.

  I blinked.

  “Well!” she exclaimed as she patted me on the arm and walked into the room, leaving me stunned and immobile in her wake. “I came by to see if I could take my son, who,
by the way, never sees his mother so she has to show up unannounced at his house on a Sunday morning, to breakfast. Now, I’ll take you both,” she declared, clapping her hands together like this was her most fervent wish.

  My eyes went to Luke who was standing there, arms crossed and still smiling this time at his mother.

  “Lucas, put a shirt on. You’ll get a chill,” Mrs. Stark ordered.