Figures. “Maybe Emily is freaking over her man not being able to perform anymore and she needs to talk.”
“Logan not being able to perform on stage isn’t an emergency.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking that kind of performing.”
Deck grunted. “Doubt that’s ever going to be an issue for Logan.” He settled in closer to me and his words whispered in my ear, “And if it is, it’s not your issue. I don’t even want you thinking about that shit.”
My phone stopped ringing then started again. “Oh, I bet it’s that sweetness on a stick, Crisis. I was thinking that—”
I squealed as Deck flipped me onto my back and was on top of me, his weight pinning me down. “You remember what I said to you the first time we had sex?”
“That you were going to make me come?”
“That this,” he grabbed my chin, his thumb stroking back and forth, “this entails everything. I asked if you’re ready for it. What did you say, Georgie?”
“I said hell yeah, sweetpea.”
He nodded then reached over and grabbed my phone. “Everything,” he repeated. I thought he was going to pass the phone to me, but instead he answered it. “Yeah.”
“He’s kidnapped me,” I yelled, “and is giving me copious amounts of orgasms.” I giggled.
Deck said into the phone, “Yeah, second part is true.”
I really hoped it wasn’t my parents on the phone. Shit, I hadn’t talked to them since the hospital. But I was betting Deck had. The guy left nothing undone. No wonder why he excelled in tactical.
“Yeah, Emily. She’s good.” He paused and I could hear her muffled words in the background. “Did I say she’s good?” I was guessing Emily found out about the overabundance of alcohol and the hospital stay.
He passed the phone to me then slipped from bed, tagged his cell and was already talking to Tyler before he disappeared into the bathroom. Which was a disappointment, because I watched his naked ass walk across the room and I wanted him to walk slower. Much, much slower. I heard Emily calling my name and stopped staring at the closed door.
“You and Deck? Really? Like, as in together-together?”
I laughed and lay back on the plush white pillow. God, I missed her and Kat. I missed all the Tear Asunder guys. It kinda sucked them being famous now and they were always gone. I’d known a couple of the guys since they started coming to the coffee shop before I even owned it. High school boys trying to make it with their band. “Like, I’m no longer a virgin.”
Silence, then, “You were a virgin?”
She said it loud and then I heard the guys in the background, which sounded like Crisis and Ream. I laughed. We chatted about the band’s tour and how Ream was being a super control freak over Kat. Then how crazy it was now the band was so popular. They had to hire security and Logan insisted Emily have a personal bodyguard, but he quickly got rid of that idea when he saw how attractive the guy was. He ended up hiring a female bodyguard.
I asked about Crisis, the bass guitarist, when the shower turned off. Then I wasn’t really listening to Emily as I was thinking about Deck, soaking wet. When he came out of the bathroom, still naked, water droplets gliding down his glistening skin …
“Gotta go, Eme. Love ya.” I tossed the phone aside as Deck strode toward me. Suddenly, he stopped short, his back stiffened and his eyes narrowed. Then I heard it, the scratching of something like …
He made it to me in two strides, grabbed my arm and yanked me off the side of the bed, hidden from the bedroom door. I landed with a loud oof and a sharp pain in my right hip. He put his hand over my mouth and kept me locked up against him as he whispered, “Stay down and don’t move.” He grabbed his jeans off the end of the bed and slipped them on, before grabbing my track pants and t-shirt and handing them to me.
I heard the distinct click of a bolt turning.
“Shit,” I mumbled beneath his hand.
He took his hand off my mouth then grabbed me behind the neck and before I could say anything, he kissed me. It was hard and fast and over before I could take my next breath.
I was a little freaked at who the fuck would have the balls to break into Deck’s penthouse. They were either super brave or super stupid.
He quietly opened the nightstand drawer where he’d placed the bullets when I’d been playing with his gun and then kept low as he went to the dresser, grabbed his gun and came back.
I watched as he popped the bullets in place then slid the barrel back and handed it to me.
He put his hands over the top of mine. “Both hands.” His voice was low and steady, completely in control. This was why he was great at what he did. “Anyone comes toward you, …” he curled my finger on the trigger, “shoot.”
“That’s my lesson? Jesus, Deck. Don’t I get some target practice?”
“Yeah, the asshole who’s breaking into my loft.” Deck pulled me back so I was leaning up against the bed. “Don’t move. I need to know where you are at all times. Shoot anything that moves.”
“What if it’s you?”
“You won’t shoot me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“You won’t shoot me.” Deck was edging toward the end of the bed.
I said in a loud whisper, “But I could if you surprised me and—”
Deck glanced at me and his expression was fierce. Not a fierce I could work through. No, this was immeasurable and severe. This was the Deck who went after the scum of the Earth. “Then don’t be surprised.” Then he was gone.