“Jesus.” Lionel swung around and staggered back, hitting the bed and falling onto it.
I gaped at Deck standing in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room as he did recon. Always in military mode even when breaking in some poor sap’s place to drag his dead best friend’s sister out. Shit, what the hell? He was supposed to be in New York. This was planned for when he was in New York.
“Get dressed.”
His voice was the usual deep, abrupt sound, but I noticed a slight vibration to it. I knew Deck. I was addicted to him and his darkness, the pain always lingering in the depths of his eyes matching my own. Yet, that rumble in his voice I’d never heard before.
Goose bumps blazed across my skin as if I’d just touched an electric fence. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York, sweetpea?” My guess, Matt had been on the phone to Deck the second I showed up at Avalanche tonight. It was only an hour-and-a-half flight back to Toronto. This was a total screw-up. A warning from him would have been nice.
“Ah, fuck. Boyfriend? Hey, man, I didn’t touch her,” Lionel said, like the wimp-ass he was. He crawled off the opposite side of the bed as far away from Deck as he could.
Shit, couldn’t blame the guy. Deck was freaking intimidating and no doubt was carrying a gun and knife or two … or three. Deck never went anywhere without a gun, even if it was against the law to carry a handgun in Toronto. I didn’t think Deck cared much for laws, though. Besides, he knew people and that gave him a pass.
“Now.” Deck’s voice thundered through the room.
I pulled my bra back down then tugged on my top. It was inside out and backwards, the white tag showing in the front beneath my chin. I was attempting to turn it around without taking it off again and was having difficulty because really, I was a little freaked out that Deck caught me half-naked with a guy. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I was always careful.
Damn it. I had the top up over my face, blinding me, but I hadn’t taken my arms out.
Knuckles brushed against the bare skin of my abdomen as the edge of my top was grabbed. I sucked in my breath. I knew his touch, his scent; I’d recognize it anywhere. It was embedded in my brain like the negative side of a magnet rolling around, searching for its positive side. It only calmed when he was near.
Suddenly, my shirt was yanked off. Then, before I could focus or say ‘what the hell’, it was back on.
Damn, he smelled good. In my fantasies, he did too, and I had a lot of fantasies about him. At first, I fought them, but now I begged for them to haunt my nights. It was the only way I could have him. Any girl would romanticize Deck. Over six foot, with dark eyes and tatted-up, muscular arms—hard and untouchable. Actually, you’d be stupid to touch Deck, but I was good at stupid and often teased him by purposely touching him.
Right now, though, with him looking down at me with his eyes narrowed and his body tense as a metal post … yeah, even I knew when to shut it with Deck. He had thrown me over his shoulder and carried my ass out of bars numerous times and every time he did it, I felt the guilt wash over me.
“Listen, man, I didn’t know she was yours. I was—”
That got my attention. “His? You think I belong to him? Like a fucking hamster? Listen here, cheesecake.” Because he really was cheesecake, smooth with no hardness about him. Shit, he was even missing the best part … the crunchy granola. I started toward Lionel, my eyes blazing and my fists ready to smack him a good one. I was sick of men who were pissants. “I’m not a pet. I have—” I screeched as I felt my body fly into the air and land hard on my stomach over Deck’s shoulder.
“Shut it.”
I did because I had the wind knocked out of me and couldn’t breathe. Plus, I felt kind of sick as my stomach sloshed with the five shots I’d consumed. So, I was a little tipsy tonight, nothing wrong with that.
Shit, I was going to throw up and it wouldn’t be pretty all down Deck’s back. I cupped my hand over my mouth and swallowed several times.
“She’s mine. That means you touch her again and you’ll be in a body bag.” He abruptly turned on his heel, which did nothing for my uneasy stomach.
I caught a glimpse of Lionel, pale and cringing in the corner of the room. “Pussy,” I blurted then clamped my hand over my mouth again as Deck strode out of the room. Tonight was a total fail, and I was so going to hear about it.
I WOKE UP to the familiar grey, sterile walls and the cold, smooth, black furniture, which was Deck’s bedroom. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and saw the bottle of water on the nightstand half-gone. He’d forced me to take two pills and drink water before he put me in bed and tucked the covers in around me. Whenever he thought I was too drunk, he brought me back to his place. That was, whenever he was around.
I grabbed the bottle, cracked it open and tossed the lid on the floor as I tilted the liquid back until the plastic bottle was sucked dry. No matter how much I was immune to the drinks, I still felt like shit in the morning after having tossed back a few.
I set the empty bottle on the nightstand and it fell over then rolled to the floor. A little mess would do Deck some good. Besides, he was probably gone by now, considering it had to be … I looked out the window and saw the sun beaming high in the sky … noon. I’d woken up in Deck’s bed—minus Deck, of course—enough times to know he was rarely around in the morning.
I shuffled to the bathroom, leaned my palms against the counter and looked at myself in the mirror. Makeup smudged, the dark black eyeliner in the corner of my eyes was exaggerated even more than usual with bright blue and gold now faded on my eyelids. A few sparkles were on my cheeks from the eye shadow. I tried to run my fingers through my blue streaked mass of hair, but they got caught in the mess and I groaned as I tried to disentangle them.