I shouldn’t have had to ask permission to brush my teeth but I was going to give in on that considering the air hadn’t yet lost any of its dangerous electricity. Not to mention, Luke just announced he was already deciding where we were going to live, what car was safe for me to drive, what kind of wedding and how many children we were going to have.
And all of this, I had to admit, made my stomach feel melty.
“Come here,” he ordered, voice gruff and still pissed off.
That made my stomach feel even more melty.
Even so, I hesitated. “Are you still mad at me?” I asked.
“Fuck yeah,” he answered.
“Maybe I should give you some quiet space,” I told him, trying to be helpful but with the ulterior motive that quiet space for Luke meant quiet space for me.
His hand shot out and grabbed my forearm, giving it a yank. I toppled onto him and he rolled, taking me with him so I was on the bottom. Then he shifted his h*ps until my legs opened and he fell between.
It was at that moment, all hope of quiet space died.
“You caused it, you’re gonna help me work it out and that’s what I intend to do, by f**kin’ you so hard you’ll still feel me inside you even when I’m gone.”
“Wow,” I whispered, yes, out loud.
His head bent, his lips came to mine and he muttered, “You better f**kin’ believe it.”
And he did exactly what he said he would do.
And when he was done, it was so good I thought if we “went the distance” (as Luke put it) pissing him off every morning might be the way to go.
* * * * *
I was sitting on my wicker loveseat on my porch, my heels on the edge, finishing up a toasted sesame bagel with cream cheese, drinking a diet and trying (and failing) to get my head together.
This was partly because everything that happened last night and this morning was too much to get together and partly because, between my legs, I could still feel Luke even though he was gone (and, let me tell you, it was a nice feeling).
There was a chill in the air but I had a space heater going. I’d also thrown on some fleecy sweatpants, wooly socks and a hoodie so I was comfy, snugly warm even though I was feeling thoroughly f**ked (both literally and figuratively).
Oo, I’m happy, Good Ava sighed.
What I want to know is, Bad Ava asked. Does this mean we’re not going to get to sleep with Ren?
Oh for crap’s sake.
Bad Ava was such a slut.
Luke was upstairs taking a shower while I was on the porch freaking out. I was freaking out because I believed everything Luke said. He was too brutally honest to be lying. Which meant I had to rethink everything about my life and who I was and that was an impossible task without cookies and Sissy.
What I did know was that I was someone special to Luke and I always had been, just like he was and always had been to me. And that knowledge made my word tilt so much, I was certain I was going to fall off.
“Babe.”
I looked to the side and Luke was standing in the door, fully dressed, watching me.
God, he was good-looking. Even with the angry cut on his cheek, or maybe especially with the angry cut on his cheek, he was unbelievably hot.
“Hey,” I said, thinking I’d not had nearly enough quiet space to ponder all that was tumbling around in my head. I needed at least an hour or maybe two hundred and seventeen of them.
He walked in, sat down beside me and rested an ankle on his opposite knee. He put his arm around my shoulders, pulled me into his side and kissed the top of my head.
“You okay?” he asked.