“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
Okay, now what had I gotten myself into? I’d just become f**k buddies with Luke Stark.
Worse than that, it was my idea!
I like that idea, I think it’s fab, Bad Ava had lost her warning vibe and now sounded dreamy.
I hate it. It stinks, Good Ava had lost her happy vibe and now sounded pissed.
“With rules,” Luke said.
Uh-oh. Here we go.
“Fuck buddies don’t have rules. It’s like being in a fight club. The first rule of f**k buddies is, there are no rules.” I was making this up as I went along. I had no idea if f**k buddies had rules. I’d never had a f**k buddy. I’d never even wanted one.
Hell I didn’t want one now!
Especially not Luke.
The inky went out of his eyes and they got scary shiny. “We’re gonna have rules.”
I thought, considering his scary shiny eyes, it was probably best I at least listen to his rules.
“What are the rules?” I asked on a sigh.
“First, we’re the kind of f**k buddies who spend time together, not f**kin’.”
“Luke, that defeats the purpose of f**k buddies.”
Again, I was making it up.
He ignored me. “Second, we’re exclusive f**k buddies. No one else touches you while I’m f**kin’ you.”
That one wouldn’t be hard.
“Let’s go back to the first one,” I said.
“Ava, that’s the deal, no discussion.”
“What kind of time would we spend together?”
“Ava –”
“No, I want to know.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth and his arms wrapped around me so his fingers were resting on the sides of my br**sts.
Then he muttered, “Maybe we’ll just f**k.”
I felt my knees wobble as my lungs expanded. “I could spend time not f**king,” I blurted.
He grinned.
Foiled again!
I glared.
He caught the glare and his body started shaking with laughter again.
“Honestly, I hate you,” I told him.
“No,” his mouth came to mine, his eyes not leaving my own, “you don’t.”
Against my will, I started sliding into a fog. My head tilted back further, his slanted and he started to kiss me when the buzzer went. He disengaged from my lips but kissed my nose, then walked away.
In another fog, I watched him move. He’d put on another pair of sweatpants, these black with three black-on-black stripes up the sides.
Not surprisingly, his chest was bare.
I noticed, not for the first time but with my Luke Sense significantly more honed after our sex-a-thon that he moved well. He moved like he was in absolute command of every centimeter of muscle, sinew and bone in his body and there were a lot of them. I sighed at the sight and even I had to admit it was a contented sound.
Damn it all to hell.
He picked up the door phone and said, “Yeah?” Three seconds later, his eyes cut to me.
Whatever it was, I knew by the look of him was not good.
He listened for another couple of seconds then, without a word, he put down the phone. I watched him walk back to me and since he had a funny look on his face, as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or yell, I didn’t watch the way he moved just his expression. I was waiting for him to decide.
He came into the kitchen and leaned his h*ps against the counter opposite me, putting his palms on it at his sides.
“Santo Mancini wants you to know he’s ready just in case you wanna go somewhere,” he told me calmly neither laughing nor yelling (which was a relief).
I stared at him. “Who?” I asked.
“Santo Mancini.”
“Who’s San…?” Oh shit. Ren’s bodyguard.
Again, I wanted someone to tell me, why me? My life was so complicated, I couldn’t even keep track of all the f**ked up shit that was happening.
His voice started sliding into the “going to yell” zone. “You wanna tell me why the guy who kidnapped you a few days ago is buzzin’ up to the loft tellin’ me he’s waitin’ for you downstairs?”
No, I actually didn’t want to tell him.
“Um…”
“Ava,” he said low.
What the hell. “Well, I told Ren what was happening and he kind of arranged for Sissy and me to have bodyguards.”
He stared at me a beat then his head dropped and he might have been staring at his feet or he might have closed his eyes. I couldn’t see which one and it didn’t matter really. He was in another masculine position of reflection, this time likely wondering what in the hell he’d gotten himself into when he got mixed up with me.
I thought it best to carry on with breakfast. The toast in the toaster had long since come up and wouldn’t be hot anymore so the butter wouldn’t melt. I hated non-melted butter on toast. I decided to let Luke have the non-melted butter ones, exchanged toast for bread and pressed down the lever.
“Ava,” Luke said from behind me.
I turned. He was now sitting on the counter, eyes on me.
“Come here,” he said softly.
Don’t ask me why, but for some reason, I went. He opened his legs and I walked between them. He closed his thighs against my sides, wrapped a hand around the back of my neck as I tilted my head back to look at him and his face came close.
“You’re lucky,” he told me.
“I am?” I asked.
“Yeah. You’re lucky I’ve f**ked you. You’re lucky it was mind-blowing. You’re lucky I think it’s f**kin’ sweet-as-hell that you would nestle into me and fall asleep with me inside you. You’re lucky I like you movin’ around my kitchen wearin’ my sweatshirt. You didn’t have all that, babe, I gotta tell you I would likely be pretty f**kin’ pissed Zano assigned one of his thugs to be your bodyguard.”
“Well, I didn’t –” I started to say in my own defense (really, I didn’t, it wasn’t my idea for Ren to give me a bodyguard) but Luke’s lips touched mine and I stopped talking.
“Don’t try your luck,” he warned.
I thought about trying my luck. I did this while looking in Luke’s eyes. I decided not to try my luck.
“You want toast or what?” I asked kind of bitchy.
He did a half-grin, his hand slid in my hair and he gave me the kiss he meant to give me five minutes before.
In the end, my toast had non-melted butter too.
* * * * *
Luke and I went to the hospital to see Bobby.
Santo Mancini followed us in a black Volvo. Glancing out the back window of the Porsche, I noticed he was one of my kidnappers, the driver. Well, at least it wasn’t the other guy. I didn’t think the other guy liked me.