Rock Chick Redemption

by Ashley, Kristen

  “Let go of my hands, I want to touch you,” I demanded.

  He didn’t answer but, instead, ran his tongue along my neck.

  “Hank.” His name came out kind of whiney.

  Okay, maybe a lot whiney.

  His hand went away from between my legs and my body tensed.

  “Please,” I said low and his head came up and he looked at me.

  His eyes were hot and intense and I held my breath.

  He rolled completely over me. I opened my legs and his hips fell between them as he let go of my wrists. His hand worked at the buttons of his fly and I pushed his jeans down his hips, my mouth at his neck. Then my hand wrapped around him.

  “Jesus, Sunshine,” he muttered but there was a smile in his voice.

  I looked him in the eye.

  I was trying to guide him into me but he was having none of it.

  “I want you inside me, Whisky. Now.”

  He pulled my hand away and then his hands went to my hips, lifting them and he stared down at me but he didn’t come inside.

  I gave in.

  “Please.”

  He slid inside.

  It felt beautiful.

  My head arched back and my arms wrapped around him.

  “Sweetheart, look at me.”

  I looked at him, he moved inside me and it felt delicious.

  “It starts now,” he told me.

  I moved with him, I wasn’t really focusing on what he was saying, mainly because it was building again and I could feel it coming.

  “What starts now?” I asked.

  “You and me.”

  He moved faster, pressed harder, went deeper.

  Good God.

  “What?” I asked dazedly.

  “You and me,” he said again.

  “Whisky,” I breathed, “I’m not keeping up with you.”

  I was keeping up with him, but not in the way I was talking about. I held on to him and tilted my hips and he went even deeper.

  “God, you feel good,” I said.

  “Sunshine, try and pay attention,” he replied, sounding amused and I blinked at him.

  He was still moving and I was getting closer all the time.

  “Are you crazy?” I asked, not really caring if he was.

  “Starting now, there’s a you and me.”

  My arms tightened involuntarily and other parts of me tightened involuntarily too.

  Hank’s eyes went lazy.

  “Now, that felt good,” he muttered.

  “Hank –”

  He slid in deep.

  “Be quiet.”

  “Hank!”

  His mouth met mine.

  “Quiet,” he said.

  Then he kissed me, he moved, I moved, pretty soon I said his name again (in a moan again) but mainly because he finally let me come.

  And it was glorious.

  Chapter Seven

  The End

  After we finished Hank moved away, pulled off his jeans, positioned me into the bed with the covers over me, slid in beside me and turned out the light.

  He lay on his back and rolled me into his side.

  Throughout all of this, I was silent and compliant, mainly because I was trying to decide how many types of fool I was.

  I was settling on twenty-seven types of fool when Hank spoke. “I think I prefer you talking.”

  “I’m sleepy,” I lied.

  “You’re thinking and the way your mind works, that’s probably not a good thing.”

  “You don’t know the way my mind works,” I told him.

  “You’ve talked yourself into thinking alligators are cute.”

  “I didn’t talk myself into it. Have you looked at an alligator? They are cute.”

  His body moved with laughter.

  “And owls are cute,” I went on, nonsensically, ignoring his laughter, or more likely, because of his laughter. “I’ve always wanted to own an owl. Like Florence Nightingale. She carried one in her pocket.”

  His body kept moving, except I could tell instinctively the laughter had turned deeper.

  Then a thought struck me and I got up on an elbow. “Hey, are you related to her?”

  I felt his eyes on me in the dark. “Not that I know of.”

  I settled back down and put my head on his shoulder. “Oh.”

  He rolled into me and I fell to my back.

  His hand went into my hair at the side of my head.

  “Are you really sleepy?” he asked.

  I wasn’t. I was wide-awake and scared out of my wits.

  “Um,” I answered.

  “Because if you want to talk, we got shit to talk about.”

  “I’m sleepy,” I said immediately.

  His hand slid out of my hair, down my neck, between my breasts and down, to circle my waist. Then, he pulled me into him.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said.

  I pushed in closer.

  I wasn’t going to think about it. Not then. Maybe not ever.

  I wrapped my arms around him and he held me close.

  After a few minutes, I whispered, “Hank?”

  “Yeah?”

  I pressed my face into his throat.

  “Thanks for tonight.”

  His arms went tight.

  * * * * *

  I woke up and something was crushing me.

  I laid there, in the dark, assessing the situation, then remembered.

  I was on my back and Hank was at my side, I could feel his breath at my temple, his bicep was resting on my midriff, his forearm curling up my ribs with his hand resting at the side of my breast. His thigh was thrown over both of mine. Adding to this, Shamus was on the other side of me, his head resting on my belly under Hank’s arm, like my stomach was a pillow.

  Both the human and canine Nightingale boys had me trapped. I’d been feeling trapped for years, but this kind of trapped felt snug and secure.

  It was at this juncture that reason returned.

  This was not a good thing.

  It was so not a good thing that it might have been a catastrophic thing.

  The thing wasn’t even about Billy. I had the feeling that Hank might understand about Billy. Hank was a good guy and it was pretty clear he liked me (okay, so it was really clear he liked me).

  I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted to test this idea, however.

  No, it was about sleeping with Hank on the first date.

  I was such a slut.

  What must he think of me?

  I might have been able to explain about Billy if I hadn’t slept with Hank on the first date. Now, he’d just think I was easy; an easy girl from Indiana who’d fuck criminals and cops without blinking an eye.

  I’d even said please.

  There was only one solution to this problem.

  I had to get out of there.

  Immediately.

  Not just get out of Hank’s house but out of Denver.

  My plan to leave Billy was screwed. I had to abort and start all over again.

  I moved and Shamus jerked and sat up.

  I froze, listening, but Hank didn’t wake.

  “Let’s go boy, move out,” I whispered to Shamus, shoving him a bit and he jumped off the bed. I slid out from under Hank and then stopped again, waiting. He still didn’t wake so I got out of bed. Shamus thought it was playtime and wagged his tail, running to the door of the room and back to me.

  “Shh!” I hissed. “Come here. Sit!” Shamus did as he was told and I heard his tail sweeping the floor with excitement. He thought we were going to take a midnight stroll, maybe go to a park and play Frisbee. Crazy dog.

  I gave him an ear scratch, wishing I could play Frisbee with him (not at that exact moment, but at some moment, eventually, and it caught at my heart that I knew I never would).

  He licked my hand.

  That caught at my heart too.

  “You’re such a good boy,” I told him, meaning it and also wishing Hank didn’t have a dog. It was hard
enough dealing with all that was Hank, add a dog to the mix and it was nearly impossible.

  “Stay,” I commanded and Shamus obeyed.

  I started searching for my clothes in the dark and tripped over one of my Mary Jane’s.

  “Shit!” I whispered and looked toward the bed.

  Hank hadn’t moved.

  Thank God.

  I found my underwear and jeans but tripped over Hank’s boot on the way to my shirt.

  “Fuck!” I snapped and gave up, feeling like a fool, rooting around naked in the dark. Much better to root around in the dark partially dressed.

  I put on my underwear and Shamus lost patience with waiting and walked over to me. He leaned his furry body into my legs and I could feel it undulating with the force of his tail wags.

  “Sit Shamus. Be good,” I mumbled, doing another head scratch while Shamus settled on my feet.

  I was straightening from the dog, jeans still in my hand when the light came on.

  My head snapped up and I looked at the bed.

  Hank came back from stretching to reach the light and sat up on an elbow, his eyes settling on me. He looked sleepy, hair tousled, chest bared and my breath caught. He might look handsome normally, kickass handsome angry and melt-in-your-mouth handsome when he casually drove his car but sleepy he was a knockout.

  “What’re you doin’?” he asked.

  “You’re awake,” I pointed out the obvious.

  “The neighbors are awake with all your racket. What’re you doin’?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  Uh… not good.

  One second, he looked sleepy, the next second, he looked pissed off.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  I looked down, anything not to look at Hank, and pulled my feet out from under Shamus.

  “I’m gonna call a cab and I’m leaving.”

  Deprived of my feet, Shamus got up and pressed his body against my legs again. This was unfortunate as I was trying to put on my jeans, thus hopping around on one leg and avoiding Shamus at the same time. Not exactly graceful but I had nothing left to lose.

  I shouldn’t have looked down. Without warning, Hank was there. He jerked my arm pulling me off balance. I dropped the jeans and collided with him and Shamus. Shamus scooted out from between us, then pressed against both of us.

  Hank was naked. I hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at him, what with being entirely too tuned into how turned on he was making me. I knew he had a great chest but my quick glance showed me he pretty much had a great everything else as well.

  I ignored his great everything else and snapped. “Hey!” trying to pull my arm away but Hank held on tight. In fact, his free hand came up and grabbed my other arm.

  “Get back into bed,” he said, looking down at me.

  “I’m going,” I told him.

  “You’re not going.”

  I was still trying to pull away. I was still not succeeding.

  “I am.”

  “Why?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Why?”

  Jeez, there was just no shaking this guy.

  “Let go,” I was getting kind of desperate. I dropped my gaze to his chest, raised my hands there and began to push.

  He shook me gently to get my attention. It worked. I looked back up.

  “Tell me why you’re sneakin’ out of my bed in the middle of the night.”

  “Hank –”

  “Answer me, goddammit!”

  Holy cow.

  He wasn’t pissed off anymore, he was angry. I couldn’t only see it on his face; I could feel it emanating from his body. For some reason, it didn’t scare me. He had it in check. It was entirely controlled. I knew that like I knew there were no other jeans in the world as good as Lucky jeans.

  It did make me talk, however. I didn’t like that he was angry, not at me.

  “I’m not a slut,” I blurted out.

  His hands on my arms relaxed but didn’t go away and he blinked one of his slow blinks. “Sorry?” he asked.

  “I’m not a slut.”

  God, I sounded like an idiot. Now, I had to explain. “I’m not a slut. Never have I slept with a guy on a first date. Never. Never. Never.”

  “Roxanne –” he started to say but I forged ahead.

  “Bil… the last guy, it took, like, three weeks to get to third base and at least a month before we did it. I swear.”

  “Roxie –” Hank began again but I kept talking.

  “Before him, there was Derek, and we were dating, like, forever before we did it and it was unfortunate when we did because he wasn’t very good at it. Then there was Kenny and I don’t even remember how long it took before we did it. He was a jerk; once we did, he dumped me.”

  “Roxie –” Hank said again and started to pull me against his body but I had my arms up between us and, like the total idiot I was, I was counting down my ex-lovers on my fingers.

  “Then there was Troy, he was a good kisser, like you, but it still took, I don’t know, at least two weeks before I let him get his hands up my shirt. Wait, Troy doesn’t count because we never did it in the end. I saw him making out with my friend Kim and I broke up with him. What a bitch. I forgot about her.”

  Hank now had his arms around me, Shamus was sitting beside us, his doggie body resting against our legs and I was oblivious to this because I was on a roll.

  “Then, there was Scott, he was my first. We dated for at least a year until we finally did it. He married the prom queen and now they’ve got half a dozen kids, no joke.”

  I stopped and looked up at Hank.

  He was looking down at me, angry gone, pissed off a memory, he was smiling again with only his eyes engaged in the smile.

  Shit.

  Had I just recited all my lovers to Hank?

  I had.

  Shit.

  “You finished?” Hank asked.

  “I’m an idiot.”

  Hank bent his head and rubbed his nose against mine. Then he gave me a light kiss.

  That was nice but I still felt like I was now at least thirty different types of fool.

  “I’m a slut and an idiot,” I told him.

  “You aren’t a slut and you aren’t an idiot,” he said authoritatively, making me believe that at least he believed it.

  Then his hands came up my back and undid my bra.

  “No! Don’t do that, I have to go.”

  He ignored me, slid the straps down my arms and tossed the bra aside. Then, his hands went down my back, he bent, I felt them go over my bottom and he jerked me up. I threw my arms around him and he turned and deposited me on the bed and he came down on top of me.

  His weight felt good on me, too good.

  “Whisky, get off me. I need to go.”

  His hands were on me and I liked how they made me feel, I liked it a whole lot. His fingers tagged my panties and started to pull them down.

  Against my neck, he said, “You still want to go after I fuck you again, I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

  Holy cow.

  My stomach did a dip.

  I tried to ignore the dip and the subsequent melty feeling. I had to be strong. Or, at least, I had to try to be strong.

  “No. No more fucking. I’ve got to sort out my problem then, if you’re still around when it’s done, we’ll try this again but we’ll take it slow and get to know each other before we, uh… carry on… er, like this.”

  His head came up and he looked at me. I could tell right away he thought I was funny.

  “Sunshine, I know you’re crazy, and I have to admit it’s sweet, but you’re all kinds of crazy if you think I’m waitin’ to get inside you again.”

  Holy cow. The melty feeling graduated to a rolling boil.

  “Hank…”

  He’d stopped pulling down my underwear at my hips, his hand went to cup my pubic bone and he kissed me.

  Shit.

  I felt the little, itty bit of strength I was clingin
g to start slipping away as his tongue moved against mine.

  “Open your legs,” he said against my mouth.

  “I need you to understand,” I said, and I did. In that instant, I decided that I was going to tell him everything and I needed him to understand.

  “You can explain it tomorrow. Now I want you to open your legs.”

  I kept my legs firmly closed. “What if I explain it to you tomorrow and you don’t understand?”

  In answer, he kissed me until I was dizzy. After the kiss, his lips trailed down my cheek to my ear. “Roxanne, sweetheart, open your legs for me,” he whispered.

  I opened my legs.

  I was weak and I couldn’t help myself but truly, at that moment, I would have done anything for him.

  He rewarded me immediately. Later, I rewarded him.

  Even later still, I’d lost all thoughts about leaving. My back was pressed to his chest, his arm was around me, my arm resting on his and our fingers were laced. I was half asleep when he murmured, “Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

  I snuggled deeper and prayed that was true.

  * * * * *

  My hair was moved away from my face and then a finger trailed down my neck. That finger turning into a full hand as it slid down my side to rest on my hip.

  “Wake up, Sunshine.”

  I rolled to my back, the hand stayed where it was so it moved across to my belly as I opened my eyes.

  It was the best wakeup call I’d ever had.

  Hank was sitting on the bed, leaning over me. It was still dark outside although a little light was coming through the blinds and there was also light coming from some other part of the house through the doorway. I could see he was dressed in a Rip Curl t-shirt and pair of dark track pants that had a wide stripe running down the side.

  “You’re dressed,” I mumbled.

  “Shamus and I are goin’ for a run. We’ll come back, shower and I’ll take you out for breakfast.”

  I blinked.

  “Run?” I asked.

  “Run,” he answered.

  “As in, exercise?”

  His lips twitched. “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “I take it you don’t run.”

  “Only when chased by men wielding chainsaws.”

  The lip twitch turned into a grin. “That happen a lot?”

  “No, but Ally says there’s one at the Haunted House she wants to take me to.”

  The smile died and his brows drew together.