Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick #8)(51)



Oh God, it was coming.

“Ren!” I gasped and it hit me.

Powerful.

Mind-boggling.

Soul-enriching.

Amazing.

I tried to grind down, but Ren was stronger and kept yanking me up and pounding me down as his hand drove into my hair and held my head to his so he could watch it sear through me.

And it did. My mouth open and a whisper away from his, my eyes open and locked to his, my breath caught and stayed that way as I clamped my man tight with everything I had.

A minute later, it was Ren who ground me down. His hand fisted in my hair and I watched his sear through him.

Okay. Yeah. This together together thing was easy.

Sure, we’d always had this part. But something about having it and the other made it even better.

And it got better when Ren’s breathing eased and he gently pulled my head back by my hair. I felt his lips at my throat right before I felt his tongue touch there. Then I felt him guide my pendant into his mouth with his tongue and the chain tightened around my neck as he sucked it deeper.

His mouth was working my pendant, but it felt like it was working every part of me. My thighs tightened on his hips, my arms around his shoulders. In fact, everything tightened everywhere (and I mean everything) and I mentally went back on what I said the day before.

Yes, people and memories meant everything and things meant nothing.

Except that pendant.

That pendant meant the world.

He released it, kissed my chest and tipped his head back as he moved mine forward to catch my eyes.

“Want breakfast?” he asked and I grinned.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Then kiss me and get off me, baby.”

In bed, Ren still inside me, it was these occasions and only these occasions I always did what I was told.

So I did what I was told.

But the first part of his order, I gave it my all.

* * * * *

I was sitting on Ren’s kitchen counter, Ren leaning against the one kitty corner to me.

I’d swallowed the last ketchup covered tater tot and put my plate in the sink. I was sipping at my coffee when Ren pushed away from his place, dumped his plate in the sink and moved in front of me.

He took my cup from my hand and set it aside. Hands at my knees, he spread them. He moved in and wrapped one arm around my waist, curving his fingers under me to cup one hand to my ass, and hauled me a couple inches forward on the counter so my happy place slammed into his happy place and stayed nestled there perfectly.

He’d never done that before. Breakfast time was when I reestablished the boundaries I blew apart when we f**ked each other’s brains out and Ren had always given that to me. He didn’t hide that he found it amusing. But he still gave it to me.

This was tons better.

I curled my arms around him.

Totally better.

“You work tonight?” he asked.

I nodded. I’d called off the night Faye had her thing so I could take care of Faye’s thing. Last night was my night off. Tonight, alas, I was back at it.

“Date night, your next night off,” Ren declared.

Oh yeah.

I nodded. I also smiled. I did it small on the outside, huge on the inside.

“Tonight, you wanna eat before you go or when you get home?” he asked.

God, God, my man was sweet.

“Before,” I answered.

“Lasagna or chicken parmesan?”

Seriously? He had to ask?

I mean, his lasagna was the bomb, but he made his chicken parmesan from scratch and the first time I had it—and every time since—I’d had a culinary orgasm emanating from my mouth. And this orgasm was loud. Ren couldn’t have missed it. He didn’t miss anything.

“What do you think?” I asked back.

“Chicken,” he muttered, his lips quirking. They stopped quirking, he held my eyes and his voice was gentle and sweet when he queried, “She call?”

I pressed my lips together. Then I shook my head.

I’d checked my phone and Indy hadn’t called during our mind-blowing, soul-enriching, together together sex-a-thon last night.

This worried me.

So I did something about it while Ren was downstairs making breakfast and I was upstairs freaking that my best friend was mad at me.

“I called her,” I shared. “Left a message for her to meet me this morning and chat.”

“Right, honey,” he replied. He gave me a squeeze and dipped in for a brush on the lips before he went on, “Don’t worry about it. She’ll hear you out. It’s sweet you care, but she does too, so you two will get past it.” I got another brush of the lips before he muttered, “Now, I gotta get to work.”

He moved to let me go, but I tightened my thighs on his h*ps and my arms around him and regained his focus.

“We got busy last night and conversation was limited,” I noted. “I didn’t get the chance to ask you about your conversation with Lee.”

“Rather have more time than we got right now to explain that to you,” he said, and I didn’t get a good feeling about that.

“Zano—” I started, but stopped when one of his hands came up and curled around my neck.

“You’re lettin’ me in and you already know you’re in, Ally. But I’ll let you in more when I have time to explain. But just to say now, Lee and I are cool, or as cool as we can be. However, he was not a big fan of you heading off to the mountains and gettin’ involved in that shit, and he was even less of a fan of your apartment exploding. You know what kind of man he is. You know how he feels about you. And if you don’t know, you can guess he wants the kind of man he is, which includes the ways he looks after his woman, for you. This means he feels all that shit is my responsibility. So we had words.”

Kristen Ashley's Books