“So you’re feeling me,” I noted.

“Not yet,” he replied.

I rolled my eyes.

When I rolled them back I noted his grin got bigger.

It was then, I heard sirens.

* * *

Oh God.

I was close.

I threw my head back and breathed, “Ren.”

My man, on his knees behind me, pulled out.

On my hands and knees in the bed, I looked at him over my shoulder and whispered, “No, baby.”

“On your back. Knees up. Spread,” he ordered, his voice thick.

Okay, I could do that.

So I did it.

He covered me and not a second later slammed into me.

My back arched and I wound my arms around him.

“Every guy watchin’ you move onstage at Smithie’s wants his dick right here,” he growled, thrusting fast, hard, deep and I focused on him (barely).

He got off on that.

Like, seriously.

Suddenly, I did too.

He drove in, then ground in, his mouth coming to mine. “But this is all mine.”

It so totally was.

“Yes,” I panted.

Inexplicably (and tragically), he pulled out again and moved down my body. His hand went between my legs, his finger working me, his mouth went to my breast and he sucked my nipple deep.

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 hips 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 hips 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 breasts. 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 hips 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, breasts, nipples, 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 fuckin’ 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 fuck 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.

Hank nodded again. Lee got his mug, reloaded, rested his hips against the counter and gave his eyes to his brother.

“We’re supposed to go to viewings later. Thinkin’ that’s out,” Lee remarked.

“You’re movin’?” Hank asked.

“Keepin’ the place. It’s Grandma Ellen’s. Indy wants it kept in the family. We’ll rent it but we need more space.”

They absolutely did. Two bedrooms, Indy and all her crazy (not to mention clothes) and a kid?

They needed more space.

“Keep that on the quiet,” Lee warned. “She hasn’t told Tod and Stevie yet. Stevie’ll take it in stride. Tod’s gonna have a shit fit, not havin’ Indy or the contents of her closet close. Indy’s already freaking at the thought of moving away from them, not to mention not having Chowleena around frequently. So it’s likely I’ll need to get her a dog, too, to fill the void of Chowleena.” Lee drank some coffee then finished, “Though it won’t be a fuckin’ Chow dog.”

Hank again nodded, his mind expelling the idea of his brother owning a Chow, at the same time making a note not to be anywhere near when Indy broke the news to Tod that she and Lee were breaking up the family.

He took a sip of his coffee, then said, “You called me for a meet, man, but I got somethin’ to go over with you first.”

“Yeah?” Lee asked.

“Before I left, got a call from Mace.”

Hank watched Lee take a sip from his mug, his actions casual, his eyes intent. When he was done, he stated, “Got one too.”

“He went out last night with Ally,” Hank told him something he already knew.

This time, Lee nodded, but other than that, he didn’t give anything away.

“He said she didn’t do well, she did well. She made all the right moves. Confident, not cocky. Tough when she needed to be. When the situation became uncertain, she stood down without a fight and took orders. He said she has the feel. And he said Hector thinks she’s the shit.”