Kristen Ashley - Rock Chick Revolution

“Give me that,” he growled into my neck.

I gave it to him. I so did.

Tipping my booty so he could have access, he didn’t delay. One of his hands slid between my legs, his middle finger hitting me right where I needed it. His other hand slid up my chest so he could wrap his fingers around the underside of my jaw, holding firm, keeping me where he wanted me.

And last, he drove into me.

I’d forgotten about spooning, and right then that was top of my list of positions with Ren.

And serious to God, I loved this. Held captive by him, powerless to do anything but take what he gave me, but knowing he’d work to give me what I needed to take me there so I got it first before he took what he needed to get him there.

Amazing.

So amazing, I held still, whimpering and moaning, until it started to burn through me.

Then my neck arched back. I felt his lips at the side and I breathed, “Ren,” right before it blistered through me.

He thrust hard, fast, deep, and his hand between my legs continued working me, taking, even as I came down. He kept going until I felt his mouth open on the skin of my neck and he sucked deep. A tremor ran through me and I felt and listened as he got what he needed.

As it left him, he settled, still buried inside me. His hand between my legs moved so he could wrap his arm around my belly. His hand at my jaw gentled and his fingers started stroking.

His mouth still at my neck, he whispered there, “Love you, Ally.”

“Love you too, honey,” I whispered back.

He kissed the side of my neck, shifted, kissed the back of my neck and we lay there connected for several long, happy, silent minutes until he pulled out and rolled to his back. He took me with him, positioning me tucked to his side with my forehead in his neck and his hand cupping my ass.

“Shimmy outta your panties, baby,” he murmured.

Using just my legs, I shimmied out of them, caught them with my toe and used my foot to toss them over Ren to land at the side of the bed.

When I settled in, he drew random patterns on my ass as he said, still murmuring, “Not done with you tonight.”

Ren was feeling energetic.

Right on.

I smiled against his skin.

It was after work at Fortnum’s where, fortunately, nothing else happened, except Roxie, Tod and Stevie showing with about five hundred bags from various stores at Park Meadows Mall (okay, maybe four hundred). It was also after Ren got home late from work, but he still made me chicken parmesan.

But the dishes were still on the dining room table. The pots in the sink.

This was because, once I’d taken my last bite, Ren said to me, “Thinkin’ about it all day, couldn’t get my mind off it, so now I want your mouth on me.”

I hadn’t been thinking about it all day, but I was thinking about it right then. And what I thought about it was that it was a fantastic idea.

Therefore I immediately got up, sashayed to and up the stairs and into his bedroom.

He followed me, hitting the room, eyes hot but lips quirking.

I’d then commenced in obliging.

You know the rest.

That brought us to now.

I lifted my head and looked down at him. I felt my insides warm at the contentment in his expression, and asked, “Do I have to turn Catholic?”

His face blanked, his hand at my ass stilled, and he did a slow blink.

Then he demanded, “Say that again.”

I didn’t say it again.

Instead, I explained, “You’re Catholic. I’m not. And you’re Italian. And seeing as the Pope lives in a sovereign city-state in your homeland, I’m thinking that’s important. And since we’re committed and you’ve promised we won’t be about meatloaf and missionary, I’ve gotta have some detail about what else the future has in store for me.”

His hand not at my ass lifted to cup my jaw before he said quietly, “That’s not something you tick off a to-do list, honey.”

“No. But it is something you consider and look into if it’s important to the man you love.”

Ren closed his eyes.

A second later, I found myself on my back with Ren looming over me, but he did this with his chest pressed mostly on mine and his hand still cupping my jaw.

His eyes moved over my face and his face had the look.

My insides got warmer.

Then he stated, “It’s not necessary you convert, Ally. But it’s important to me that my kids are raised in the faith.”

“Wouldn’t it be important, to raise kids in the faith, that I knew about said faith at the very least, but better, practiced it?” I asked, and the look intensified so my insides got melty.

“You’d do that?” he whispered.

“I don’t know. Is here an initiation ceremony where I have to drink blood of the calf or something?” I asked and he grinned.

Then he answered, “No.”

“Okay,” I replied. “Then maybe you can set it up so I can talk to somebody.”

He dropped his head so his forehead touched mine, all the while muttering, “Fuckin’ fuck me.”

That meant a lot to him.

I loved that. I loved that I gave that to him.

But I didn’t tell him that.

I shared, “I’m obviously no expert, but my guess is the Pope frowns on the f-bomb, Zano.”

I saw his eyes smile.

Then I didn’t see anything because he was kissing me, slow and sweet.

Then he did other things to me slow and sweet that I wasn’t sure the Vatican approved of.

Much later, drowsy, sated, happy, my man’s arms around me, his body curled into me spooning, I decided we’d had a good day without anything exploding and another day without us fighting (so far, a record). Further, his breath was evening, which meant he was heading toward sleep.

So I’d tell him tomorrow about my plans for the future that didn’t have to do with me discussing conversion with a priest.

Ren moved to the sink, dropped his plate in it and moved to me sitting on the counter.

He pulled my coffee mug out of my hand and set it on the counter. Then he pulled my legs apart and moved between them. With a hand at my ass, he yanked me close.

His face dipped to mine and his voice was sweet when he noted, “You got lots of bags upstairs, baby.”

“Yep,” I agreed.

“You got a dress for me?” he asked.

“Yep,” I repeated, and this was true. Roxie, Tod and Stevie bought me four of them and they were all smokin’ hot.

“Good. Date night tonight.”

I grinned.

Ren kissed me.

Then he kissed my neck.

After that, he let me go and on a, “Later, honey,” and walked to and through the front door.

I watched.

Smiling.

It was mid-morning when the bell over the door rang.

I was in Fortnum’s with Indy, Jet, Tex and Jane. Stella and Mace were also there, both of them at the counter. Stella was shooting the shit and sipping a latte. Mace was being silent and badass as he held his woman in a casual-but-affectionate embrace at his side.

Duke had not showed. I told myself this wasn’t because he was avoiding me, but because he’d hopped on his Harley with his wife Dolores for an impromptu ride of the Rockies.

However, even as I told myself this, I wasn’t very convincing.

Everyone looked to the door to see Tod walking in carrying two big thick scrapbooks.

One was stuffed full with copious pieces of paper and fabric swatches protruding from the sides. The other one looked new.

The first was Ava’s wedding planner.

The second, seeing as she’d only been engaged for a little over three weeks, was Sadie’s.

Tod was a drag queen and a flight attendant. He was also the unofficially-official wedding planner to all the Rock Chicks. This meant a lot of headache, arguments, browbeating and unnecessary powwows sprinkled with a few hissy fits.

It also meant every single Rock Chick had the wedding of her dreams that went off without a hitch.

Nevertheless, Tod, with the planners in tow, did not bode good things.

The door closed behind him and his eyes came to me.

“Good to see you alive, girlie,” he called.

“Good to be alive, Tod,” I called back.

“Do me a favor,” he kept talking loudly, “stay alive until Saturday. And a call to the bomb squad to do a sweep of the church and function room would come in handy.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” I heard Mace mutter, and I looked to him to see his expression was serious.

Then again, the way things were, he and Tod were right.

“I thought we had the final read through of Ava’s shindig last weekend, Tod,” Indy noted, moving his way.

Tod dumped the books on a table and looked at her. “That was the final read through. Now we’re having the final final read through. And tomorrow, before the rehearsal, we’re finalizing the final final read through. But also now, we’re deciding Sadie’s wedding colors.”

Indy looked around the store and then back at Tod in order to point out the obvious. “Sadie isn’t here.”

“I know, she’s busy at the gallery,” Tod replied, slapping open the smaller album and I saw a plethora of colors on the page. But he said no more.

With experience of the planning stages of Tod organizing a wedding, it was understandable that Indy’s tone was cautious when she stated, “Honey, we can’t pick Sadie’s wedding colors without Sadie here.”

Tod looked up at Indy and I felt everyone brace (except Mace, he sighed).