she didn‟t know what
to think.
Lying on the table against the window, her cell phone rang shrilly. With
one last punch of the bag, she stepped across the room, tore off a glove,
then grabbed it. The display told her it was Tyler.
“Hey, I was just thinking about you.”
“Yeah?” He sounded really happy about that.
“Punching the hell out of my bag and pretending it‟s your head,” she
teased.
“Funny,” he intoned. “Look, I know it‟s early, but you should come to
the club.”
Alyssa froze. “What happened?”
45
Shayla Black
Tyler hesitated—something he never did. That man was as straight up
as they came. She trusted him with her life, so when he hedged, it couldn‟t
be good.
“Just come to the club,” he said finally.
Something was absolutely wrong. “Shit. Give me an hour?”
“The sooner, the better.”
She hung up, cursing as she made her way out of her exercise room
and into the hall. She ran smack into Luc.
“Sorry.” She backed away from him. It was either that or jump on him.
She hadn‟t had the pleasure of “the morning after” last time, and Alyssa
took one look at him, hair softly rumpled, eyes slumberous, and realized
she‟d missed something spectacular.
Her blood heated all over again.
“Good morning.”
The words were polite . . . but lacked the passion she wanted to hear
when he said those words, his head on the pillow beside her, just before he
kissed her thoroughly and they welcomed the day together with pleasure.
Wasn‟t happening. Grimly, she remembered last night. Rather than
depress herself again, she shook the thought away.
“Yeah. I have to run, grab a shower.” She held up her phone. “Tyler
called. I told him I‟d be there in an hour. If you need more time to get ready,
I‟ll have him pick me up.”
“I‟ll take you.”
“It‟s no problem for him to—”
“I said, I‟ll take you,” he snapped, his stare roaming her flushed face
and sweat-damp T-shirt.
Was he still pissed about last night or was this about Tyler?
“Fine. I‟ll meet you in the kitchen in thirty.”
She spun away, wanting the sanctuary of her bedroom, the privacy of
a shut door so she didn‟t have to shut away the pain of his rejection.
Luc grabbed her arm and held her back. “About last night . . . I‟m sorry.
I didn‟t mean to spy on you. The open door was—”
“Not an invitation,” she lied. The truth would just get his back up. “Just
like the guest bathroom door not locking properly, my bedroom door
doesn‟t shut all the way. It‟s an old house. But I appreciate the apology. I‟m
46
Shayla Black
sorry, too, for barging in during your shower. I only meant to make sure you
had a towel and . . .”
He grimaced. “Look, I‟m not going to lie. We share amazing chemistry.
You turn me on more than anyone ever has.”
Luc didn‟t look at all happy about that fact.
“But you‟re not into me , just my body. Got it.” And it hurt like hell.
His grip on her arm tightened. “That‟s not it. Yesterday, I discovered
great qualities I didn‟t know you possessed.” He sighed, raked a hand
through his long hair. “It‟s that . . . what I want isn‟t what I need. So if I‟m
cranky and irritable this week, it‟s because you have me tied up in a
thousand sexual knots, and I‟m trying to do the right thing.”
The right thing being not having sex with her.
Did Luc think it was impossible to have an emotional attachment to
someone who owned a club where women took off their clothes?
Whatever. She still wanted him. Wanted him to want her. Burn for her.
Because everything inside her yearned for Luc, his sultry smile, his talent,
the way he‟d made her feel more special in one night than any man ever
had. She wasn‟t willing to give up.
“Does this have something to do with the woman you‟re seeing?”
“Yes.”
Damn, how could one word hurt so much?
“If you picked her, I‟m sure she‟s a great girl.”
to think.
Lying on the table against the window, her cell phone rang shrilly. With
one last punch of the bag, she stepped across the room, tore off a glove,
then grabbed it. The display told her it was Tyler.
“Hey, I was just thinking about you.”
“Yeah?” He sounded really happy about that.
“Punching the hell out of my bag and pretending it‟s your head,” she
teased.
“Funny,” he intoned. “Look, I know it‟s early, but you should come to
the club.”
Alyssa froze. “What happened?”
45
Shayla Black
Tyler hesitated—something he never did. That man was as straight up
as they came. She trusted him with her life, so when he hedged, it couldn‟t
be good.
“Just come to the club,” he said finally.
Something was absolutely wrong. “Shit. Give me an hour?”
“The sooner, the better.”
She hung up, cursing as she made her way out of her exercise room
and into the hall. She ran smack into Luc.
“Sorry.” She backed away from him. It was either that or jump on him.
She hadn‟t had the pleasure of “the morning after” last time, and Alyssa
took one look at him, hair softly rumpled, eyes slumberous, and realized
she‟d missed something spectacular.
Her blood heated all over again.
“Good morning.”
The words were polite . . . but lacked the passion she wanted to hear
when he said those words, his head on the pillow beside her, just before he
kissed her thoroughly and they welcomed the day together with pleasure.
Wasn‟t happening. Grimly, she remembered last night. Rather than
depress herself again, she shook the thought away.
“Yeah. I have to run, grab a shower.” She held up her phone. “Tyler
called. I told him I‟d be there in an hour. If you need more time to get ready,
I‟ll have him pick me up.”
“I‟ll take you.”
“It‟s no problem for him to—”
“I said, I‟ll take you,” he snapped, his stare roaming her flushed face
and sweat-damp T-shirt.
Was he still pissed about last night or was this about Tyler?
“Fine. I‟ll meet you in the kitchen in thirty.”
She spun away, wanting the sanctuary of her bedroom, the privacy of
a shut door so she didn‟t have to shut away the pain of his rejection.
Luc grabbed her arm and held her back. “About last night . . . I‟m sorry.
I didn‟t mean to spy on you. The open door was—”
“Not an invitation,” she lied. The truth would just get his back up. “Just
like the guest bathroom door not locking properly, my bedroom door
doesn‟t shut all the way. It‟s an old house. But I appreciate the apology. I‟m
46
Shayla Black
sorry, too, for barging in during your shower. I only meant to make sure you
had a towel and . . .”
He grimaced. “Look, I‟m not going to lie. We share amazing chemistry.
You turn me on more than anyone ever has.”
Luc didn‟t look at all happy about that fact.
“But you‟re not into me , just my body. Got it.” And it hurt like hell.
His grip on her arm tightened. “That‟s not it. Yesterday, I discovered
great qualities I didn‟t know you possessed.” He sighed, raked a hand
through his long hair. “It‟s that . . . what I want isn‟t what I need. So if I‟m
cranky and irritable this week, it‟s because you have me tied up in a
thousand sexual knots, and I‟m trying to do the right thing.”
The right thing being not having sex with her.
Did Luc think it was impossible to have an emotional attachment to
someone who owned a club where women took off their clothes?
Whatever. She still wanted him. Wanted him to want her. Burn for her.
Because everything inside her yearned for Luc, his sultry smile, his talent,
the way he‟d made her feel more special in one night than any man ever
had. She wasn‟t willing to give up.
“Does this have something to do with the woman you‟re seeing?”
“Yes.”
Damn, how could one word hurt so much?
“If you picked her, I‟m sure she‟s a great girl.”
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