Rock My World

by Lee Piper

  I quickly shut my gaping jaw with a snap and muttered, “You look … nice.”

  Levi purposefully strode towards me. Gone was the polite, understanding guy from last night and in his place was a predatory, dangerous man.

  Sweet Lord.

  The spicy scent of his cologne intoxicated me with each step. I swear, he was going to be the catalyst of an outright sexual frenzy if I didn’t escape from him soon. I didn’t even realize I was backing away until my head bumped into a wall behind me, hitting it with a soft thud.

  I held my breath as Levi planted his powerful hands on either side of my flushed face. Leaning in close, he skimmed his nose against my jawline and trailed it down my neck, before growling, “You don’t look so bad yourself, kitten.”

  I bit my cheek to stifle a moan.

  “And since we’re taking it slow,” he murmured, “I won’t spin you around to face the wall. I won’t slowly lift the hem of that cock tease of a pencil skirt you’re almost wearing. I won’t even raise it up over that sexy ass before fucking you from behind.” He licked and nipped my partially exposed collarbone.

  I gasped.

  “Even though your eyes are begging me to.”

  “Bastard,” I breathed.

  “Because I won’t or because you want me to?” Levi’s lips blessedly stopped their sensual assault but his blazing eyes stared down at me, heated and challenging.

  I glared at him. Smart Mouth was definitely needed. “No, because your self-indulgence is making us late.” With that I ducked underneath his arm and quickly grabbed what I wanted before striding—as confidently as my trembling legs would allow—out the hotel room door.

  After we walked into the packed foyer of the Melbourne Convention Center, I stopped. Hundreds of people from all over the country were there, animatedly discussing cutting edge teaching methodologies and the latest research in adolescent cognitive development. It was freakin’ awesome. I looked up at Levi who stood next to me, ignored the wicked glint that lurked behind his eyes and said, “Don’t forget that we’re representing Geographe High here. Now, normally I don’t give a shit about what other people think, but as soon as we put on our name badges it’s important to remember that we’re no longer Grace and Levi. You’re a student teacher and I’m your mentor. Got it?”

  “Fuck you’re hot when you do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Get all authoritative and shit. It makes me hard just looking at you.”

  “Levi.” I disentangled our fingers. It hadn’t taken him long to catch me up in the hotel corridor and had been holding my hand ever since. Not that I minded the contact. Well, until now. “Behave.”

  “Yes, Ms. Thompson.”

  I stepped closer. “You’re walking a fine line, Mr. Mondez.”

  He grinned. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ll do when I cross it.”

  I let out a combination of an exasperated and sexually frustrated sigh, spun on my heel and stormed off towards the signing-in table. A deep chuckle trailed after me the whole way.

  “Grace? Hey, Grace.”

  I turned at the sound of a familiar low timber. “Aemon?”

  The man behind me smiled widely before pulling me into a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you again.” He pulled back, still grasping my shoulders while appreciatively eyeing me up and down.

  I could have sworn I heard a low growl to my right.

  “You look sensational.”

  Yep, definitely a growl.

  I smiled self-consciously. For as long as I’d known him, Aemon had never shied away from the fact that he wanted me. Even when I was dating Dylan and he was sleeping with yet another random girl on university campus, he’d always told me I deserved better. Apparently, he was just the guy to show me the many benefits of a committed relationship. Kind of ironic really, since Aemon never stuck around long enough to remember anything except the cup size of the women he slept with. I’d always just laughed it off, because even though he was a total player, I’d never seen him as anything more than a friend. Well, this was all back when I was nice enough to actually have friends.

  I took a step back. “Uh, thanks. It’s good to see you too. So, where are you teaching now?”

  “At St. Joseph’s, here in Melbourne. Moved over straight after graduation.” He pushed away the lock of sandy blond hair that was forever falling in his eyes. It drove the girls wild. Most girls. He trained his hazel eyes on me. “What about you?”

  “I’m at Geographe High, back home.”

  Aemon nodded but then immediately sobered. “Look, I’m really sorry to hear about your dad.” He took one of my hands and held it. “I’ve been meaning to call you, but between moving states and starting this new job…” He gave my fingers a squeeze. “If there’s anything I can do, just say the word, okay?” His face lit up. “I know, how about I take you out for dinner sometime this week? We can talk, drink,” he smiled, “reminisce.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  I shut my eyes and prayed to the gods of justifiable eye-gauging that we would all make it out of this conversation alive. Retracting my hand, I smiled apologetically. “Aemon, this is my student teacher, Levi Mondez.”

  “Student teacher?” I could tell he was desperately trying not to look too incredulous at the sight of Mount Testosterone. But he failed. Completely.

  Levi took a step closer to Aemon, his body partially shielding me while narrowing blue eyes at him.

  I knew what he was doing. The jerk was stamping his authority like I was some freakin’ prize to be fought over. So I maneuvered myself in between them both to glare up at him. Only, he was far too busy eyeballing my old friend to notice the silent warning.

  “Levi, this is Aemon,” I said through clenched teeth. “We went to university together.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  I watched both men sizing each other up. The differences were incomparable. Levi was tall to Aemon’s short, strong to his lean, simmering to his serene. If we were anywhere else, I would have found their pissing contest hilarious. Only we weren’t, so it was annoying.

  I yanked on Levi’s shirtsleeve. “Come on, we’d better go find our seats.” He refused to be deterred and I ended up having to pull him away by the arm. “I said, let’s go.” Levi gave Aemon one last passing scowl and I rolled my eyes.

  “See you around, Aemon.”

  “You can count on it, Grace.”

  Strangely, once we moved into the conference hall and sat down, Levi didn’t mention Aemon. I was expecting him to interrogate me about what type of friendship we’d shared or in the very least, comment on the preppy good looks of the damn guy. But he remained silent. Even worse, was that for the remainder of the day, Levi acted like a true professional. I couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t specializing in drama instead of English and for some reason this complete change in personality pissed me off like you wouldn’t believe.

  I mean, to start with he appeared enthralled throughout the entirety of the first keynote speaker who was a professor in child psychology. Needless to say, by morning refreshments I was mildly irritated. But then Levi sat at a professional distance during the middle session which was led by the principal of a rural area school. He even nodded in agreement at many of the ideas raised. So by lunch, I was annoyed. However, when the guy actually had the audacity to take notes during the final address of the afternoon, run by the inventor of a new online educational portal, I was fuming.

  Fuming at what exactly, I couldn’t say. The fact that I hadn’t seen Aemon again so couldn’t rub his attraction for me in Levi’s ridiculously handsome face? The fact that he had actually done as I’d asked and acted sensibly? Or the fact that I desperately wished he’d ignored my demands and felt me up in the back row? Regardless of all three possibilities, by the end of the day I was so outraged that I stormed out of the conference hall. I strode far quicker than I ever thought imaginable. Hell, even an Olympic power-walker would have been proud of my e
fforts. I just had to get back to the hotel before tearing a hole in the next person who dared to speak to me.

  One look at my livid expression was all it took for Patrick to pour me enough whiskey to drown a bearded sailor. I snatched the glass off the bar and swallowed its entire contents in one mouthful.

  “Tough day?”

  “Gimme another.”

  He raised an eyebrow at my abruptness but did as I asked, turning and grabbing the bottle of my favorite numbing potion off the shelf behind him. While refilling my second glass, Levi stepped into the bar looking like the Grim Reaper of panties everywhere. He sidled up next to me and purred, “So, do you come here often?”

  I rolled my eyes, though was somewhat placated by the warmth of the alcohol as it spread throughout my tense body. “Cut the crap, Levi.”

  He nodded to a curious Patrick. “I’ll have a glass of the same, thanks.”

  The barman glanced between the two of us, looking as though all the mysteries of the universe had finally revealed themselves.

  Levi cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice a certain,” he paused, tracing a finger through the condensation left on the bar from my glass, “negativity radiating out of you today.” He dropped his voice as he leaned into my ear, murmuring, “What’s up with that?”

  I stared at my drink, trying to formulate the words needed to explain my anger-fueled confusion without sounding like a walking hypocrite. It was useless. To pretend my behavior at the conference meant anything other than wanting to go back on my decision from not even fifteen hours ago, would insult the intelligence of both Levi and myself.

  Time to face the music, Grace.

  So, after taking a deep breath I looked up at him again. “You did what I asked.”

  A brief smile of understanding crossed his lips before disappearing again. “Yes, I did what you asked.”

  “It sucked.”

  “Big time.”

  “Kiss me.”

  “Hell yes.”

  And for the next little while we were lost to the other. As Levi’s lips moved against mine, the anger receded. As his tongue worked my own, it dissipated further. And as he pulled me closer against him, arching my back while he deepened our kiss to celestial proportions, it disappeared completely. I was left feeling renewed, revived but as freakin’ horny as the devil himself.

  This time Levi was the first to pull away. “Kitten, if we don’t stop now, I’m going to fuck you where you stand,” he growled.

  “Do it.”

  But he shook his head, his eyes laughing at my brazen disregard for Melbourne’s public indecency laws. “At least let me buy you dinner first.”

  A five minute taxi ride later, on account of the blisters generated by my Olympic power walk qualifying time, we were strolling through the Queen Victoria Markets. With Levi’s hand in mine, he weaved me in and out of post-work shoppers, tourists and university students all purchasing incredibly fresh ingredients from the myriad of food stalls available. The noise was extreme, ricocheting off the tin walls and wrought iron roof, seeming to grow in intensity the farther we ventured inside. I loved it. I loved the chaos, the color, the flurry of activity, the exotic smells, everything.

  Levi gazed down at my enthralled face and smiled. “I knew you’d get it.” He then led me through to the other side of the market and as we stepped back outside I could immediately smell the fumes from the cars racing past. A ripple of nostalgia for the endless sandy beaches and clear blue skies back home washed over me but I shook it off quickly, determined not to pine for anything when Levi was nearby. As we headed south, we passed an insanely long line leading to a fancy Indian restaurant before entering Italia Bar, next door to it.

  The place wasn’t large, maybe about the same size as the joint living and sleeping quarters of our hotel room. I had to step around the gigantic rectangular pillar situated smack bang in the center. It was covered with newspaper articles haphazardly stuck all over it, showcasing the bar’s many gastronomic achievements. There were a few mismatched tables and plastic chairs to my left, with a glass display cabinet and a bar with stools either side of it positioned on the right. Up above the display cabinet was an enormous chalk menu board suspended from the exposed metal ceiling, advertising an array of mouthwatering Italian dishes. My stomach immediately registered that it hadn’t consumed anything in a heck of a long time. A millennium in fact, if my saliva glands were anything to go by.

  We took a seat on the bar stools since all of the tables were taken and Levi turned to me, excited. “Are you ready to be blown away by the best meatball roll this country has to offer?”

  “Um, yeah?”

  “Sweet.” And with that, he hopped off the chair to go order at the register. I shook my head in amusement, how a grown man of his height and stature could pull off being boyishly cute as well as absurdly handsome was quite simply beyond me. But Levi somehow managed it. Effortlessly.

  Once returned and seated as comfortably as an impossibly tall man could on a bar stool, he then said, “It’s a great place, am I right?” I nodded, indulging his cocky enthusiasm. “Our Auntie Val would bring us here whenever we visited. Apart from being allowed to play with her insane collection of musical instruments, this place was definitely the highlight of the trip.”

  I stockpiled that tidbit of information away for another time and instead asked, “So, it’s been around for a while then?”

  “Yeah, I think it’s run by the third or fourth generation of the same family. Cool, huh?”

  “Impressive.”

  Our conversation waned then and I didn’t really know what to say after that. To be honest, it was mainly because I wanted to explain my self-diagnosis of bipolar. On the walk through the markets I’d been trying to think of different ways to broach the subject and explain why I kept acting like a glutton in a patisserie shop who would intermittently declare themselves on a sugar-free diet. Only, I somehow didn’t think the simile would explain it coherently enough. So the words wouldn’t come.

  A thumb brushed my bottom lip making me start and my eyes instinctively flew to Levi’s. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  My mouth popped open and then closed. I even verbalized a guttural sound at one point. But other than that, it just wasn’t going to happen. No words on the subject, smart or otherwise, were making themselves heard tonight. So I ended up shrugging my shoulders and hoping that by some miracle he could read the depth of my intended meaning behind that gesture alone.

  “Okay, how about I start then?”

  I nodded, slightly perturbed not only by my lack of articulation but also by the sudden gravity expressed in Levi’s features.

  “I’ll be honest, kitten. I’m finding it pretty hard to keep up with you at the moment.” I bit my lip and even though his eyes dropped to the movement, he continued, “One minute you’re hot for me, the next you want to slow down.” He spun my stool around to face him squarely and rested his palms on my sheer stocking-clad knees.

  I bit my lip again. Harder. I wouldn’t even need a meal at this rate.

  “I just want to know what’s going on in that crazy little head of yours.”

  “You’d have me committed if you did.” Thank Christ, words.

  “Try me.”

  I looked down, tracing my fingers over the width and breadth of his hands. God they were huge. Strong. Warm. If I shift my body this way slightly they’ll be so close to my … Grace, focus. I shook my head. “I don’t really know what I want. No wait, that’s not true. Hang on, let me start again.” I shut my eyes, thinking hard while desperately trying to ignore the touch of his hands traveling up my thighs. “I know that I want you.” I peeked at him again, glancing up from beneath my lashes.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  I smiled. “And I know that I want to be with you. But,” he stared at me intently, “trust is a big issue for me.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “I do, I think. But that’s not what I mean. Y
ou see, it’s me who I don’t trust.”

  He raised an eyebrow, clearly perplexed and I didn’t blame him. I might as well have been speaking in Haiku. “I’m explaining this in the shittiest way possible.” I took a deep breath. “It’s like my head is telling me not to trust my heart, you know? Like, what I’m feeling right now is too good to be true, will never last and I’ll once again end up comatose on the couch surrounded by a sea of fucking tissues and empty whiskey bottles.” I lowered my voice. “I was in a fucked up place after Dylan left and I don’t want to go back there again.”

  “So, how are we going to do this if you don’t trust what you’re feeling?”

  “That’s the thing, Levi, I don’t freakin’ know. One minute, I’m telling myself to ignore my head and follow my heart, while the next minute my heart freaks out and it’s back to listening to my goddamn head again.”

  “What does your gut tell you?”

  “That I’m flippin’ hungry.” I paused. “Commit me, please? Or at least get me some decent drugs so I won’t have to live with this fucked up dichotomy of shit that circles my brain non-stop.”

  Levi smiled sweetly. “No drugs, no asylum, just this.” He leaned forward, tenderly kissing me. Far too quickly, he pulled back and I could smell the whiskey on his breath as he murmured, “Trust in this, Grace.”

  I pulled his mouth back to mine. To the feel of his lips, to the emotion barely contained within them, and the faith that they openly sought. Was it possible? Could I expose myself to potential hurt once again? Was being with Levi worth the risk?

  Yes.

  Fuck yes.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say it. Hell, after that heart-melting kiss I was ready to yell and scream the word before orchestrating a musical number and sashaying my newfound certainty around Italia Bar. I’d even use the other patrons as backup dancers. And the manager. But I was ruefully interrupted by the arrival of our meal.