“So, this means you owe me again,” he noted.
Uh-oh.
“Actually I owe Hector more than I owe you. She was going to go back to Dom but he talked her out of it,” I tried.
He shook his head, clearly not agreeing with me.
Foiled!
I knew it was a long shot but he never gave me anything.
“Tonight, I call this marker or your punishment marker. Your choice.”
“Luke,” I said softly, not about to let him call any markers and definitely not letting him call the punishment one. I was never going to touch myself while Luke watched. I’d already gone way passed my sexual adventure boundary. Okay sure, one could argue that I liked leaping over that boundary. In fact this morning, about a nanosecond after Luke flipped me into the second position and slid inside me I decided that I was never going to have sex in any other position but that one ever again (until he did the third one, of course).
Still.
“Babe.” Clearly Luke was not about to be denied and, I could swear by the amused look on his face he knew my thoughts.
I crossed my arms on my chest. He gave me a half-grin.
“Lucas Stark, don’t you think that you –”
He interrupted me. “Don’t you have a gig to get to?”
I looked at my watch. It was well past six o’clock. We were meeting at My Brother’s Bar at seven for dinner and drinks before we went to the gig and I had at least an hour’s worth of Rock Chick on the Town prep work to do to my face, hair and wardrobe.
“I need to get home, like, now!” I said, bouncing in my Crocs.
Luke’s body shifted, his arm curved around my shoulders and he walked me down the hall, murmuring, “Let’s get you home.”
“Bye Sissy!” I shouted.
“Enjoy Stella,” she shouted back.
“Bye Shirleen!” I shouted.
“Don’t get shot at!” Shirleen shouted back.
“Bye Hot Bunch Boys!” I shouted.
No answer.
“Hot Bunch Boys?” Luke asked, pushing through the door into reception, his arm moved from around my shoulders to curl around my neck.
Oops.
In the immortal words of Britney Spears (or whoever wrote that song for her), I did it again.
Prudently, I decided after that to keep my mouth shut.
Luke let it go, we got in his Porsche and he took me “home”.
Which, by the way, was the loft.
Chapter Eighteen
Fight