Rock Reclaimed (Rock Revenge Trilogy 2)

I ripped at it, my hair tangling more.

“Easy.” Ian’s voice was low.

I jumped, my eyes darting around the room.

Again, I was half naked in front of this man. So, why didn’t it feel as terrifying as it should have?

Six

His eyes never left mine as he reached around the back of my neck. “Shh. There’s a girl. Just hold on a minute.”

The sounds coming out of my chest would haunt me for days. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this, let alone him.

He threaded his long fingers into my hair and patiently worked at the knot. He smelled of my coconut body wash and my shampoo. I dragged in a breath and tried to calm my racing heart. I didn’t want him close to me. I didn’t want any of this.

But he was there.

And he kept humming a song. Not one I knew. But it was something to focus on. Especially since he was only wearing a towel, for God’s sake.

Too damn close. I tried to back out of his loose hold, but it only caused him to bump into me. My breasts swayed against his cool chest. I stilled and slammed my eyes shut.

Just focus on the humming. Not him.

Not a naked stranger in my place being kind to me.

Not freaking out like some seventeen-year-old virgin. It had been a long time since I’d been that girl. I wasn’t exactly the most worldly girl in all the land. Especially for a place like Los Angeles. And probably leagues different than the sort of women who ran in his circles.

But it didn’t stop the flood of frustrated tears backing up in my chest as Ian slowly and methodically untangled me from my ruined bathing suit. The song settled me in ways I didn’t want to examine.

Finally, it was free and we stood toe to toe. I couldn’t look at him just yet, but the art on his body drew my attention. Tattoos were just as beautiful as work on paper or canvas. Especially on his body. I wasn’t exactly into the huge muscular guys filling the beaches. He was quite a few inches taller than me, but he was all lean angles. Maybe a little too lean in spots. But he was young and strong with ropey muscles urging me closer.

All the tension curling inside me slowly dissipated. I found myself lightly tracing the intricate cherry blossoms along his rib cage. Such a soft and delicate flower on such a hard body. But there were other bruises hidden in the color, older ones that were starting to yellow. The muscles of his belly danced under my fingertips and his towel definitely twitched.

I curled my fingers into my palm. I knew firsthand what it was like to be touched without my permission today, and here I was doing the same thing. I glanced up and his eyes were closed. They slowly opened and the stormy sea color held a softer edge. Not the sharp, calculating gaze I was growing used to.

Like the man onstage as he bended the crowd to his will.

Or the one with rage exploding out of his fists and feet matched with a flinty harshness that had scared me even as it thrilled me.

I took a step back and turned around. He touched my hair, but I couldn’t go there. It was bad enough I had him in my space. My ruined braid tumbled down the middle of my back as I crossed to my dresser. I grabbed the first shirt I could find and yanked it over my head. I dug for my favorite pair of comfort pants and stretched-out panties. The least sexy things in my possession seemed like a smart idea at the moment. When I turned back around, he had the discarded T-shirt in his hands.

“I saw the bruises.” He touched his chest. “Did he hurt you?”

Immediately, my hand went up to my aching breast where Rattlesnake had grabbed at me with cruel fingers. My nipple pushed against the cotton, urging me to cup it. I didn’t want to react to him at all, but here I was. And evidently, he wasn’t that much of a gentleman.

“I couldn’t help it.”

“Shocker.”

His gaze flattened. “Not that way. Your skin is very fair there and an ugly bruise is easy to see. I’ve seen my fair share over the years.”

I swallowed and twisted the soft gray pants in my hands. “Sorry.”

“I saw him crouched over you and I…” He lifted his chin and his Adam’s apple bounced. “Men shouldn’t hit women, ever.”

I touched my cheek briefly. The backhand had surprised me. “Just each other. Looks like a few of those bruises on your face and ribs are a bit older than today.”

His hands fisted at his sides. “Yeah, well, boys will be boys, right?”