Rock Chick Redux (Rock Chick #8.5)(2)

I grinned. “Yeah.”

When he caught my grin, his eyes got hot.

“I better get on that,” he said softly before he surged out of the chair, taking me with him.

Now we were talking.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, legs around his hips and my husband started walking.

But I looked back to the table and cried, “Wait!”

He stopped.

I again looked to him.

“Retrace, three steps,” I ordered.

He grinned and backed up three steps.

I nabbed the bottle of rum and looked back down at him. “We can’t forget breakfast.”

His grin turned into a smile and he started walking again.

That smile.

That face.

My man.

Our destination.

Our location.

And the reason we were there.

One word:

Righteous.



* * * * *

I was seeing stars.

Literally and figuratively.

This was because it was midnight and I was on my back on a blanket in the sand and my husband was on top of me, moving between my legs, creating magic.

He had his face in my neck and his hands at my hips, lifting them to take him.

I had my hands all over him and everything on me, in me and around me was sheer beauty.

So I started making noises.

He lifted his head and blocked out the inky night with its twinkling lights but, my opinion, my new view was a whole lot better.

One of his hands slid in, his thumb hit me right on the spot, put pressure on and started rolling.

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.