All Shook Up Read Online Free PDF

help?" I say. I bounce a little on my toes, ready to split. Replacing the bed was fine, but the ghosts are particularly strong as I stand here. After I get out of here, it will definitely be time for my daily glass of medicine.
    "Hey, yeah, do you know how to work this shower?"
    I laugh. "It's a luxury feature of the house. Didn't Mary go over this with you?"
    "I guess she forgot. Too busy calculating her commission."
    "I think it was her first mansion sale," I say. "I swear, she was walking on sunshine."
    When Mark smiles, he looks like a different person. I first knew him only as the gaunt, stoic guitar player in photos and videos. Then, I saw the real-life Mark, fresh from rehab. Now, I will get to know him . I wish people understood that you can see a person every day and not know him. No matter how many interviews you read, concerts you see, or songs you listen to over and over, you still do not know the person behind the music. He is still no more than a two-dimensional image. Even Mark seems to be confused about this when it comes to my father.
    I show him how to turn the various levels of the shower on in stages to keep from getting sprayed in the face right away.
    "Damn, this is like a car wash," he says, laughing, as he leans in the shower doorway.
    Before I can turn around to leave the bathroom, Mark pulls his t-shirt over his head and tosses it into the laundry basket. His chest is even better without a shirt. I study the contours of his muscles as they intersect with his black tribal tattoos. His skin looks bright and smooth and touchable. Very touchable. My primal reaction is instant. As he reaches for the button on his jeans, I'm trapped. Nudity doesn't bother me, in general, unless I'm the one naked. I grew up around nude people. But with Mark, my brain signals cross somewhere between lust and caution, and my mind can't seem to move my legs. I fixate on his hands as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans. Waiting. I lick my lips. My body is humming now, ready for whatever will come out of those jeans.
    "Sophie, are you okay?"
    I jump a little and look up. "What? Yeah, sorry. I was trying to remember something I wanted to tell you."
    I get out of that bathroom as quickly as I can, heading straight to my bathroom.
    I hurry in, close the door, and lock it. I lean against the door like I have to hold it shut. My cheeks burn. My nerves are revved up. The warmth low in my belly leaves me a little breathless. These guys are going to drive me crazy. Even though I already showered, I peel off my shirt and step out of my shorts and panties. I turn on the world's most complicated shower and melt into the hot water. Sinking down on the tiled bench and lying back, I let my hair cascade down the side. Images of Mark without a shirt, and what he looks like below the waist, fill my overheated brain.
    And I picture Hondo's hesitant kiss, more a question than a statement.
    I slide my hand down my body, starting with my right breast, and ending between my legs. My body is ready. The first touch makes me catch my breath. My fingers dip inside, tickling me deep in my lower belly. I push against the palm of my hand. I am so hungry, but it has nothing to do with food. I can't remember the last time I was with someone. I stroke myself in long sweeps. The most sensitive part of my body gives me a little shiver with each touch. I'm hot and aching under the steaming water.
    I moan with each touch now, pushing my hips up harder and harder against my hand. My climax surprises me, and I curl up to ride the waves. The pleasure is so intense, I can't contain myself. I shout and curl up tighter. After the waves subside, I relax, my brain blissfully able to hold only a few thoughts.
    When I recover, I turn off the shower and dry myself. I stayed in so long, the skin of my fingers and toes is pruned. I look in the mirror to run a wide comb through my long, wet curls. My cheeks are still red, but it doesn't bother me so much at the moment. Today, a