“It wasn’t an Uzi. It was an AK-47. And they were sending a message.”
He had turned toward me and was leaned into me, working at the cuffs.
I sucked in breath again, mainly because Luke’s na**d chest was close to my face and it was freaking me out and playing havoc with my vow to stay faithful to my vibrators.
I felt my hands freed and I pulled my arms down, sat up and shook them out. Pins and needles shot up them and I took a deep breath to tamp down my temper. It wouldn’t serve any purpose, I was learning quickly Luke didn’t like my temper and he was a lot stronger than me. He seemed in a mellow mood and I wasn’t going to piss him off; pissing him off wouldn’t get me home and I needed to get home and soon. I figured him going out and buying me contact lens solution meant he thought, for some reason, I was spending the night. My purse was in my Range Rover and I was pretty certain Sissy had called my cell, probably dozens of times, checking in. She was likely panicked. I needed to phone her and quick.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from saying softly as I rubbed at both of my arms, “That hurt.”
He threw the cuffs on the nightstand, twisted at the waist, grabbed my left wrist and started to massage my arm.
Oh my goodness, Luke’s massaging your arm! Isn’t that sweet? Good Ava trilled in my ear.
Jump him! Rip his pants off! Bad Ava shouted in my other ear.
I ignored my advisors and sat, completely still, and registered how nice, warm and strong Luke’s hands were. They felt good. No, they felt great.
Shit.
“I needed to make sure you were safe,” he told me, thankfully pulling me away from thoughts of his hands feeling great.
“They didn’t shoot out my windows,” I pointed out.
“Then I needed to make sure you didn’t do something stupid.”
Hmm.
One, two, three, four, five… okay, temper under control.
“Now that you know I’m safe and I can promise you I won’t do anything stupid,” Tonight, I thought, but did not say, “Can I please go home?”
“No.”
“Luke!”
His hands went to my armpits, he got up, taking me with him and set my feet on the floor.
I had kicked off my flip-flops and they were lying somewhere in the bed. There was something very weird about me, barefoot, standing in Luke’s dark loft with Luke also standing barefoot and shirtless with me. There was something intimate about it, something sweet and nice and wonderful.
Hell and damnation.
He took my hand, led me across the room to a dresser, opened a drawer and took something out. Then he led me to the bar and grabbed the bag. Then he led me to the bathroom, flipped a switch and gave me a gentle push inside. He tossed the stuff in the sink and looked at me.
“Take out your contacts, get changed, we’re going to bed.”
I stood, blinking in the lit room, mouth dropped open and watching the door close through my blinking.
We’re going to bed, WE are going to bed, he said. Yippee! Bad Ava yelled happily in my ear, punching the air and doing a touchdown dance.
He’s so thoughtful, going out to get your contact stuff. I think he’s adorable, Good Ava shared.
Oh for goodness sake. Good Ava needed a reality check. Luke? Adorable? Please.
I sighed. No reason to fight it, because I obviously wasn’t going to win. Tomorrow, he would take me home and I would forget all of this ever happened. This was not likely but I was going with it for the moment.
I pulled the stuff out of the bag, noting he also bought me a toothbrush, took out my contacts and used the bathroom because I needed it, badly. I found this mortifying for some bizarre reason; everyone had to use the bathroom. Still, it wasn’t like I was removed in any way from Luke, there was only one other room in the place, he could probably hear. I was pretty certain I had gone through my whole life, even when he came over with his parents, or we were over it his house, without Luke ever knowing I had any need of the facilities.
Oh well, what the hell.