There was a crash, a shout, a shriek.
I woke up, heart already hammering, my body starting to sweat.
Another crash.
Cursing.
Crunching. Bones.
I wasn't overly familiar with that sound, but I knew it when I heard it.
I tried to fight the way my belly was swimming, trying to convince myself to take a breath, to believe I was safe behind the closed door. But there was fighting going on outside. And I had no idea if it was just a disagreement between bikers or an unknown foe.
And, ribs busted, there was no way I could scramble away if someone burst through that door.
"Duke," I called, voice a whisper, worried of being overheard in case it was a bad situation outside the door. "Duke," I tried again, looking over at his form in the dark.
He must have turned out the lights before bed.
I always slept with something on. The bathroom light or the TV. I wasn't afraid of the dark per say, but I preferred light.
I slowly inched my way up off the bed as a crash hit the wall of Duke's room hard enough to make the TV wobble on the dresser. I scurried around the bed then. I reached down and moved to put my hand on Duke's back.
The second my finger touched, his entire form moved, whipped over onto his back as I found my wrist snagged in a punishing grip.
"Ow," I yelped, trying to pull it free.
"Penny?" he asked, voice rough, not fully alert. How that was possible when he had just moved and grabbed me in the course of a second was completely beyond me.
His grip immediately lessened but he did not release me. Instead, his thumb stroked over the skin that he almost bruised like an apology.
"There's..." I started and there was another slam that made me jump hard.
Duke curled slowly upward, still holding my wrist. "Just the guys fucking around," he told me, his other hand landing on my hip with a squeeze. "Go back to bed."
"But," I said, shaking my head as I looked down at him, only able to make out the shine of his eyes and the outline of his face in the dark. "Are you sure? Couldn't it be maybe..." I said, my voice a little weak and wobbly.
Scared.
I wasn't sure I understood that sound on my lips until that moment. I had never heard it there before.
Duke exhaled as he slowly unfolded, taking his feet. For some reason, my mind didn't tell my body to take a step back and give him space. So when he stood, my breasts brushed his chest and the intimacy of that made my belly go liquid as my nipples hardened. And, judging by the way his body stiffened, Duke felt the response of my body to his as well.
But he didn't say anything.
And for a long moment, he didn't move.
His hand still held my wrist as I could feel, rather than see, his eyes on me as my breathing got more shallow, as my skin started to buzz. As a thought formed in my head. An insane, out of character, silly thought.
I wonder what it would be like if he kissed me.
As if the words didn't slide silently through my body and instead flashed across my forehead like a neon sign, his hand dropped my wrist and his entire body moved sideways and away from me. In the process, my hardened nipples scraped across his broad chest and a rush of wet met my panties.
He moved across the room and the door flew open, flooding the room in light from the hall.
"Ay," he yelled, deep voice so demanding that I even felt myself stiffen. "Take that shit outside," he growled and, incredibly, the shuffling, the slamming, the cursing... stopped immediately.
Duke nodded at something, moved back in, closed the door, and moved back toward me.
Eyes adjusted, I could suddenly see him almost as well as I could in the light. I could see his long hair free around his shoulders. I could see the way his eyes were on me again, taking me in, reading me. I could see the way he walked, heavy, determined. He moved in beside me, running his fingers down my arm.
"Come on, go back to sleep. They'll keep it down now."
I felt myself turn toward him fully again, my head turning up. "I'm not tired," I said, half-true.
My eyes dipped and found his lips, looked over the stubble on his jaw. My gaze went back up again and I could feel the heaviness of my eyes.
"Gotta stop lookin' at me like that, baby," he said, voice lower, an edge to him I couldn't quite place.
"Why?" I asked, hearing the same edge in my voice and recognizing it for what it was- attraction.
"You know why," he said, his entire body rigid.
I wasn't that girl. I didn't flirt. I didn't lean in. I didn't raise my hand and let a man's hair run through my fingers and marvel at how it felt even more silky than my own.