Rock Chick Revolution
Page 118

That was all good, way good.
But I needed him inside.
“Honey, please,” I begged.
He rolled my nipple with his tongue, his finger rolled between my legs and my back left the bed.
He blew on my nipple then whispered, “My woman kicks ass at everything.”
Oh God.
He moved his beautiful torture to my other nipple and after the tongue roll and blowing, I breathed, “Ren.”
His mouth came back to mine, but his hand continued to work between my legs when he encouraged, “That’s it.”
I slid my fingers in his hair. “Need you.”
“You’ll get me. Gonna bury myself inside you when I make you burn.”
I was already burning.
“Need you,” I repeated.
His hand between my legs moved so his fingers thrust inside and his thumb hit the spot.
That wasn’t what I wanted, but I’d work with it. And I did, my h*ps moving desperately with his hand.
“Fuckin’ fuck me, so goddamned hot.”
“Ren.”
“Ride that, Ally.”
I rode it. Hell yeah, I rode it.
“Ren,” I cried, and it hit me.
The instant it did, his fingers disappeared and he drove inside me, swinging my calves in at his back. I closed my legs around him and dug in my heels, my hands fisting in his hair, my lips parted, my back in an arc, my h*ps moving to accommodate his.
It burned through me and Ren kept thrusting powerfully, my body jerking. I moved my hands from his hair down his back to grab hold of his ass, lifting my head and breathing into his neck as he slammed into me.
“Love this, baby,” I whispered into his skin.
He grunted into mine.
“Love you, Ren.”
His thrusts became savage.
I nipped his earlobe and moaned, “You feel so damned good, honey.”
He powered deep, then bucked once, twice, again, again and again as he groaned into my neck. I took his weight for long moments, holding him tight to me, breathing him in, before he rolled us.
But once to his back with me on top, he pushed me up so I was up and straddling him, Ren staying on his back and still buried deep.
One hand curled around my hip, he lifted the other one and put it between my br**sts. With me watching him, his eyes watching his hand, he moved it down to below my breast where he cupped me, lifting my breast, his thumb gliding gently over my rock-hard nipple.
His touch at that sensitive spot scored through me. My h*ps jerked and I sank my teeth into my lower lip. His eyes moved to my face and he did the nipple glide again.
And got the same reaction.
His eyes sated but still burning, his hand moved down my ribs to my belly, then down between my legs where his fingers separated, surrounding our connection.
He kept his hand there but his eyes moved everywhere.
“Ren,” I whispered.
“Quiet. Sit still,” he ordered softly. “Wanna look at you connected to me.”
God.
He was turning me on again.
His hand slid from between us and moved over my skin, everywhere, belly, ribs, sides, br**sts, ni**les, chest.
I studied the hot, content look on his face as he watched it go and fought squirming.
“Knew you felt deep,” he muttered, his gaze on his hand trailing down my midriff. Then it came to mine. “Had no f**kin’ clue how deep you ran.”
“What?” I whispered.
“Everything you do, what you eat, what you drink, how you live, how you love, how you work, all of it runs deep. You give it everything. It means everything to you.” His hand suddenly caught mine that was resting on my thigh and he gave it a squeeze. “Come here, baby.”
I bent to him and his hand went to the small of my back, sliding up my spine and into my hair.
“Teach that to our kids, will you?”
He liked what he saw that night. He got why I do what I do.
And he trusted me.
God.
Beautiful.
I closed my eyes and buried my face in his neck.
He turned his head so his mouth was at my ear. “Will you do that for me, Ally?”
“Yes, Ren.”
His hand gave mine another squeeze. “Thank you for lettin’ me come tonight.”
God.
Seriously!
Could he get better?
“Thanks for wanting to come.”
“And thanks for makin’ me come just now.”
I started laughing, lifted my head and said through it, “My pleasure.”
He grinned. “Noticed that.”
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled, still chuckling.
He slid his hand through my hair and turned his head to look at the clock. After turning back to me, he said, “Thank f**k tomorrow’s Saturday.”
I got closer, “Sleeping in.”
“Yeah,” he replied.
I brushed my mouth against his, slid him out of me and rolled out of bed. I took care of business and pulled on a nightie, but not panties, before I slid back into bed beside him.
Ren positioned us spooning.
“Maximum contact, you doing that, not me,” I pointed out.
“Last night you burrowed into me,” he noted.
This was true.
I said no more.
I felt Ren’s soft laughter all around me.
I wiggled into it.
“’Night, baby,” he whispered.
“’Night, Ren.”
He kissed my neck.
I closed my eyes, and within seconds was asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Key to Her Dreams
Hank
The next morning, Hank Nightingale moved up the bricked front walk to Lee and Indy’s duplex.
He hit the bell, and a minute later Lee opened the door.
Hank lifted his chin to his brother as Lee moved out of the way. He entered hearing retching.
He stopped in the living room, but looked to the ceiling and back to Lee. “Morning sickness?”
“No, seein’ as it lasts until the afternoon.” Lee looked up the stairs, murmuring, “She can’t keep anything down.”
Hank studied his brother and could see it plain. Lee was worried.
“Women have been doin’ this awhile, man,” he said softly and Lee looked at him.
“Know that. Doesn’t mean I gotta like it.”
Hank nodded. He wouldn’t like it either.
Lee jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Get yourself some coffee. I’m just gonna run upstairs to check on her.”
Not waiting for a reply, Lee jogged up the stairs.
Hank moved to the kitchen.
He had a coffee mug in hand and was leaning against the counter when Lee reappeared saying, “She’s lyin’ down. She says hi. But this time of day it comes often and fast so she wants to be close to the bathroom.