Rock Chick Redux
Page 2

 Kristen Ashley

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God.
Awesome.
I tipped my knees way back, taking him deeper, swung my calves in at his back and breathed,
“Ren.”
“Right here, baby.”
He was.
Right there.
And he’d been right there for a long time, even back in the day when I was pushing him away.
On that thought, his movements, the feel of him, the smell of him, the fact this was mine, he was mine, forever, all of it overwhelmed me.
I wrapped my arms around him, my head pressed into the blanket, I felt his lips touch mine and I gasped as a slow, sweet orgasm rolled through me.
He kissed me through my climax.
Then he started driving into me.
I took him, wrapping him up in me, kissing him back until he tore his mouth from mine, again shoved his face in my neck and thrust inside one last time, staying planted and groaning against my skin.
And I took him, his groan, his shudder, loving every nanosecond and shivering under him, staring at the stars.
I knew it left him when I felt his nose gliding along the skin of my neck, felt it run along the chain there then felt his tongue touch the guitar pendant that always hung there.
His pendant. My pendant.
Our pendant.
I felt him suck it into his mouth and the chain tightened.
God, I loved it when he did that.
I wrapped him tighter in my limbs.
Ren let the pendant go and kept engaging his lips on my skin. After they skimmed my earlobe, he whispered there, “Thank you for taking my name, Ally.”
I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice.
Deep.
Sweet.
Grateful.
Loving.
I knew he’d been worried about this.
He was a man. And the kind of man he was, he wanted his family to be a unit, that unit unified under his name.
I was a Rock Chick and I did what I wanted.
We sometimes clashed. We always got over it.
I knew he’d accept whatever decision I made. That was his way. It took him a while to get to that, but once he did, that was all he ever gave me.
He gave me him and he gave me the freedom to be me.
I returned the favor.
But I’d whispered in his ear during our first dance at our wedding five days ago that I would be known as Ally Nightingale professionally, Ally Zano everywhere else.
That was his wedding present.
He’d liked it. I knew this when his arms got tight, he made a strange noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a stifled grunt and he’d stopped swaying to the music in order just to stand there…hugging me.
Outside of what occurred in a church four hours previously, with my Rock Chicks standing at my side wearing kickass black dresses and carrying bouquets of red roses, that was the most beautiful moment in my life.
If you didn’t count the orgasm I just had, my husband f**king me on our honeymoon under the stars.
I didn’t reply to his gratitude. I just held on tighter.
“And thank you for taking my faith,” he kept at it.
I held on even tighter.
I’d converted.
For him.
It was kind of a pain in the ass.
But then again, Ren Zano was worth it.
I bucked my hips and Ren got the message, sliding out (which sucked) and rolling to his back on the blanket, taking me with him (which didn’t suck).
Once I was on top, I lifted my head and my hand. Staring at him in the moonlight, tracing his jaw, cheekbone, his full lower lip with the tips of my fingers, I thought he’d never been more beautiful.
Never.
And mine.
All.
Fucking.
Mine.
I finally caught his eyes. “Thank you for giving me your name.”
His arms around me gave me a squeeze as his warm eyes melted.
“Honey,” he whispered.
“Thank you for not giving up on me.”
His face got soft and his arms got tight, but this time, they didn’t loosen.
And there it was.
He was even more beautiful.
“Baby,” he said and it sounded almost like a groan.
I dipped my face closer and cupped his cheek with my hand.
“And thank you for loving me.”
He stilled and stared at me for approximately five point five seconds.
Then I was on my back with Ren on me.
“You like that house?” he growled and I blinked at the change of subject, not to mention his tone.
“What?” I asked.
“The house we’re stayin’ in, babe. Up there.” He jerked his head toward the three bedroom beach house he’d rented for our honeymoon.
Three bedrooms was overkill since we only needed one. But they did offer variety, something we took advantage of that day (and, well…the day before). Not to mention, the place was breezy, had big rooms, lots of windows, a wraparound veranda, a fabulous kitchen, a sunken Jacuzzi bath in the master, a shower built for two, it was off the beaten path and had a private beach.
“You like it?” he pressed.
“Uh…yeah,” I answered.
“That’s good, since it’s your wedding present.”
It was my turn to stare.
It was Ren’s turn to frame my face and drop his close.
He did it way better. Especially with that intensity in his eyes I could see even in the moonlight that shot through me, down my throat, to my heart, my gut and straight into my soul.
“You’ve got your way, the way you are and the way you are with the ones you care about,” he said quietly and I stilled.
I’d heard those words before.
Oh God.
I’d heard them before.
Ren kept talking.
“And that way is everything, Ally. And you give that to me. You give me that everything.
You’re gonna give that everything to our kids.” He held my eyes but shook his head. “Do not thank me for loving you. Don’t ever do that shit. Because, baby, I’m the one on this beach who’s all kinds lucky. And for the rest of my life, I get to have that feeling because you give it to me.
You got nothing to thank me for. But me, I got a lifetime of finding ways to show you how much it means that you make me that… fucking…lucky.”
Oh crap, I was going to cry.
Shit!
I was going to cry.
“Don’t make me cry on my honeymoon, Zano,” I snapped and slapped his arm for good measure.
He stared at me a beat before he burst out laughing.
That was better, especially since it was multi-sensory experience seeing as I could hear it, see it and feel it.
Suddenly, I was up on my feet, Ren with me and his arms were around me.
I tipped my head back and caught his eyes.
“Ever go skinny dipping in the sea in moonlight?” he asked.