Chapter Twenty-Seven
Runs Deep
I stood in a dark corner of Smithie’s, surveying the scene.
I’d had a call that evening from Roam, reporting in. And what he’d reported was that he saw a waitress do a handoff to Steiner. Alarmingly, Roam then reported that he’d followed Steiner.
Fortunately, Steiner hadn’t noted the tail. Also fortunately, Roam followed Steiner directly to another meeting, and this wasn’t another girl. It was Steiner dropping off the take to a man Roam described as big, bulky, light brown hair, and “a white dude that’ll f*ck you up rather than look at you,” (Roam’s words).
After I told him to punt this information to Darius, not follow Steiner again, definitely not follow the other dude and not to use the f-word, I added surveillance onto my night at Smithie’s.
It was a good move because, in moments, I clocked him.
A man of that description was sitting at a table somewhat back from the stage. Steiner, who worked the room, gave him a wide berth, saying to anyone who knew what they were looking for that he was doing all he could so no one would associate the two.
As I stood there, back to the wall, I watched the man sitting at his table like he owned the joint, not Smithie. The waitress at his section served him, but she was jittery. She wasn’t having a bad night. She served her other tables more comfortably. That meant she knew him or understood his threat.
And Roam’s description was apt. Completely. This guy would f*ck someone up rather than look at them.
I kept my eye on him, and Steiner, with plenty of time to do it. I’d already danced my first song so I had time until the next one. And this, essentially surveillance, was one of the few things I could do patiently.
Therefore I also saw him leave his seat once for a private lap dance with JoJo.
She came out of the room where they did the private dances looking freaked.
He came out looking the same as normal, strolling back to his table that the waitress had shooed three customers from and resuming his seat like he was king of all he surveyed.
And he was.
I just didn’t get why.
My cell in my hand vibrated. So its light wouldn’t illuminate my face and bring attention to me, I moved from my spot to the dancers’ hall and down to the end.
I had a text from Darius. It said Outside.
By the way, this was badass for Meet me outside, please.
Coming, I texted back then moved out the backdoor the bouncers used to take the dancers to their cars.
Darius was right there with a brick in his hand. He grabbed my hand, pulled me out, bent and put the brick on the ground by the jamb so the door didn’t close.
“It locks and I don’t want you goin’ back inside through the front,” he murmured as he again grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the door.
“What’s up?” I asked when we stopped.
“The motherf*cker Roam clocked?” Darius asked back.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Name’s Cyrus Gibbons. Got his own strip club in Lincoln closed down ‘cause he forced his girls to do lap dances that went the extra mile. Did six months.”
Shit.
Not.
Good.
“Don’t know his connection with Steiner,” Darius went on. “Do know he moved from Nebraska to Colorado about four months ago, which was when he got out. Not sure, though, if his PO received his change of address form.”
“PO” was “Probation Officer” and they tended to frown on ex-cons going over state lines.
I didn’t mention that to Darius since he already knew.
I noted, “Which is about a month before Steiner got the job here.”
“Which gave him plenty of time to assess the talent and decide on his mark,” Darius added. “Had a sit down with Brody. Lee already tore him off the book thing to do other jobs. Told him shit here was bad and he needed to find time to get on Steiner and Gibbons. He’ll have something tomorrow.”
“We need to know who else is involved,” I said. “But, just saying, the guy’s in the bar, lording over it like his name’s on the deed.”
“Copy that, also saw him go in,” Darius replied then told me, “Dude’s packin’.”
I stared at him a beat before asking, “He’s carrying concealed at a strip joint?”
Darius nodded.
“F*ck,” I whispered, then stated, “His waitress is scared shitless of him. And he got a lap dance from JoJo and she came out looking freaked.”
“Steiner makes the pickups, Gibbons provides the threat,” he deduced.
“But what’s the threat?” I asked. “Any of those girls knows they say one word to Smithie, he’ll sort this whole thing.”
Darius shook his head. “No clue. We need to be all over those guys. Told Shirleen I want Roam and Sniff off this shit. Bobby and I are gonna look into it.”
“Good,” I murmured. “Tell him to keep track of his hours and we’ll sort something through Daisy with Smithie.”
“Got it,” Darius replied and his eyes grew intent. I was doing my all not to react to what I’d learned about him that day and keep my mouth shut about it until I could figure out what I was going to do when he said, “Guy’s got a weapon, you be smart in there.”
I nodded. “Always.”
“I’m eyes out here. Don’t like you in there without backup, but if one of the boys shows, they’ll wonder why they’re there when their boss’s sister is strippin’.”
“Ren’s coming later,” I told him and grinned. “And then there’s me.”
Darius looked relieved, but I would find it was not about the me taking care of me part. “This guy’s even a little clued into the players in Denver, he’ll have heard of Zano. If he knows you’re his woman, he’ll be smart.”
Shit.
“That might mean he knows about me,” I remarked.
“He’s gotta be pretty clued in to the game here to know you, Ally. You do good, and one of the ways you do good is you keep your head down. Your jobs have got around, but to players like Lee, not guys like him.”
“My apartment just exploded, Darius,” I reminded him. “That kind of thing gets a lot of attention. And my brother is a cop, the other one a PI.”
“Hold your cover and ride it, Ally. Bobby’s on board, Brody doin’ his gig, it’ll be done soon.”
That I could believe.
I nodded. “Gotta get back in there. Tell Bobby thanks from me.”
“Will do,” he murmured, moving to the door.
After he grabbed the brick and was holding it open for me, I looked him in the eyes. “Thank you too, honey.”
“Jeez, got yourself a man, you’re gettin’ soft.”
My back went straight. “Am not.”
“Gushy.”
“I’m just expressing gratitude,” I pointed out.
“Expressed. Now get your ass in there so no one wonders where the f*ck you are,” he returned.
“Bossy badass,” I muttered, moving through the door.
“Ally?” he called and I turned back. “You’re bein’ a soft, gushy chick. But you’re also welcome.”
I watched him grin huge.
Then I watched the door close.
And then I thought about how Liam Edward Clark was missing out.
Huge.
I shook off this thought and went to the dancers’ dressing room. I bided my time, shooting the shit with Lottie until the opportunity came about five minutes before I went on again. I gave Lottie a look, she took off mumbling about needing the bathroom and I moved to JoJo, who’d come in for a break and stripper makeup refresh (a hefty undertaking, trust me).
I moved to her, and without a lot of time before I was due onstage, I had to get my message across and fast.
So I stood behind her and looked in her eyes in the mirror. “Hey.”
“Hey, Ally,” she replied on a smile that wasn’t quite real. But she tried, I could see. “You’re killing. After that big thing last night, the girls and me watched your next dance. You rock.”
“Thanks, babe,” I replied.
“You gotta show me how to do that pole flip,” she said.
“How’s tomorrow before shift change?” I asked.
“Works for me,” she went back to her blusher. “Tips went wild after you and Lottie left the stage.” Another smile to me, this one making the back of my neck prickle because it was melancholy. Possibly because she just handed her tips to Gibbons, or knew she’d be handing them to Steiner. “Thanks for that.”
“No probs,” I replied.
She again turned her attention to her blusher.
“JoJo?” I called. Her eyes came to mine in the mirror, her brows went up and my voice dropped low. “No matter what it is, you put your faith in the right person, they can move in and work it out. You with me?”
She was with me. She’d frozen and looked utterly freaked.
“Just take that in,” I whispered. “You don’t have to do anything. Just take it in. Yeah?”
She nodded slowly.
I smiled at her and moved away, hoping she’d more than take it in.
Then I moved into the hall because it was time to strip.
* * * * *
The rendezvous point for our late, late night activities was Tex’s house.
After finishing my last set, Ren followed me home so we could drop his Jag. We were taking my car, because in Tex’s ‘hood where tweakers were abundant, Jags were like shining beacons calling all to commit mayhem.
When he came to my ‘stang, he opened my door and leaned in. It was then I saw the look in his eyes, which meant I was hoping this business would be done, and quick, so we could get back home and f*ck each other’s brains out.
In other words, one could just say that Ren liked to watch me take my clothes off while dancing. He might prefer it if I was a private dancer, but he still liked getting it as it came.
However, once positioned in my door, he proceeded to boss me with, “Get out, babe. I’m drivin’.”
My reply was, “It’s my car, Ren.”
Which got me a, “Yeah. I know. And I’m drivin’ it.”
Thus commenced a Rock Chick/Macho Badass exchange of words that got mildly heated and lasted ten minutes before Ren leaned further in, undid my seatbelt, hauled me to my feet, shoved me against the car and laid a hot and heavy one on me.
While I was recovering, he pushed me aside, folded behind the wheel and didn’t delay in adjusting the seat.
I allowed myself five seconds to fume. Then, as I couldn’t execute the same maneuver, I stomped to my side and angled in.
But once in, I declared immediately, “That lost you head for a week.”
“Bullshit, baby. I get you breathy and tell you I want your mouth, you’ll suck my cock deep so fast I won’t be able to blink.”
His words made me want to go down on him right there.
I didn’t give indication of that.
I buckled in saying, “We’ll see.”
“Yeah, this is done, we will.”
That sounded like a promise.
Hmm.
Ren drove to Tex’s. I grabbed my little pepper spray and stun gun out of the glove compartment before I got out. Shoving my stun gun in the back waistband of my jeans and my pepper spray in my front pocket, I stormed the rest of my pique off by stomping up to the door, Ren following me.
Tex opened it before we got there and ordered, “Keep it quiet inside. Nance’s sleepin’.”
She would be. It was three thirty in the morning.
We would also know to do this since Tex now had an official ball and chain and if she wasn’t flitting around serving coffee, we’d know to keep it down.
I understood why he gave us this warning when I walked in and noticed several things right off the bat.
One, Tex seemed to have twice as many cats as usual, and since he had about fifteen of them the last time I was there, this was a lot.
Two, Hector was there, as expected.
Three, Mace was there, as was not expected.
And four, The Kevster and f*cking Rosie were there, as was insane.
“What the…!” I started on a shout. Tex cut his eyes to me and I brought it down about ten notches, “Hell?”
Rosie, looking like Rosie—that was to say a less kempt Kurt Cobain (except, obviously, alive)—jumped up from Tex’s couch and said (on a whisper), “The Kevster went to get some stuff from Kumar, Kumar told him what was goin’ down tonight. He told me and I came to help. It’s my way of sayin’ sorry.”
I glared at Kevin then I transferred my glare to Tex. “Why didn’t you kick them out?” I demanded to know.
“Did I not mention Nancy’s sleepin’?” he asked back on a low boom.
Crap.
I moved my glare to Rosie. “Daily deliveries of flowers for a year, replacement of my Firefly DVDs, and twenty-five rock ‘n’ roll t-shirts say I’m sorry, Rosie. You showing up prior to a mission does not.” I looked back at The Kevster. “And you know better.”
“Dudette,” he replied then said no more.
Then again, often for The Kevster, that was all he had to say.
I stared at The Kevster, who had a ginger cat in his lap he was stroking, a tuxedo kitty snoozing at his side, and a tiger cat on the floor by his leg, batting at the ragged hem of his jeans, and I sucked in breath.
“Two potheads and bring your boyfriend to work day. This isn’t startin’ great,” Mace noted, and I looked at him.
“And what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Not convinced about you. Here to get convinced,” he stated then uncrossed an arm that was crossed on his chest and swung it out before finishing, “Though, gotta say, this shit isn’t convincing me.”
It was nice he was considering backing my play. It was better he was there to help.
He was still annoying me.
“I’ve been here a minute and Ren can take care of himself, which I suspect you know. So keep your pants on, I’ll deal with shit and we’ll move out,” I returned.
“Right,” he replied, still obviously unconvinced.
I didn’t have time to chat with Mace. I had tweaker robbers to locate, a fight with my man to finish, then I wanted sex. Though, I could combine the last two. Angry sex worked for Ren and me, seeing as we mostly existed on that for a year.
I turned back to Rosie and The Kevster and ordered, “Go home.”
Rosie felt like being obstinate, unfortunately.
“No. We’re gonna help. A tweaker will open a door to one of us way faster than they’d open one to one of you.” He, too, threw out an arm to indicate the crew. “We can go in, get the lay of the land, give the high sign.”
I stared at him and saw what I didn’t want to see.
That was to say, it was clear Rosie brought some of his primo pot from New Mexico for personal use.
He was lit. Which meant he’d fired up very recently.
“And bad shit goes down, you’re high, you think you can handle it?” I asked. Then went on, “And seriously, smoking a doobie at Tex’s? What’s the matter with you?”
“We smoked it in the car before we came in,” Kevin offered.
“Brilliant,” I snapped.
“Ally—” Rosie cut in, but I moved and did it quick.
Getting in his space and face, I stated, “You are not helping. All you’re doing is wasting time and pissing me off. Go home. Now.”
“But—”
“Now,” I bit out.
“I feel bad,” he said.
Seriously?
“You should,” I shot back. “I lost everything because you’re an idiot. But pissing me off isn’t the way to make it up to me. Now, we’re done. Go.” Since I was done too, I turned from him to look at Tex and asked, “You got a list of houses?”
He was smiling big at me and he answered, “Yup.”
“How many?” I asked.
“Seven,” he answered.
Jeez.
Tex and Nancy needed to consider moving.
“Right, we split up. Hector and Tex on one team, Mace, Ren and me on another,” I decided. “Mace, did Hector brief you?” I asked. On his jerk of the chin (meaning affirmative, by the way), I nodded and looked to Tex. “Tex, you take three houses, give the addresses for the other four to Ren.”
Tex moved.
Mace asked, “You got walkies?”
No. But I was going to tell Daisy the next day to fit that line item in our budget.
“Negative,” I answered Mace.
“Then how we gonna talk to each other?” he returned.
“Uh… cells?” I asked sarcastically because it was not lost on me I was in test phase for Mace and that pissed me off (more). “Just to say, the squawk of walkies won’t help us be stealthy so put your phone on vibrate and we’ll be fine.”
That must have been acceptable because Mace moved on.
“You got a plan for approach?”
“My plan is, Hector and Tex can do whatever they want. You two,” I pointed between Ren and Mace, “are gonna stay out of sight while I approach the door. I’m less of a threat, but I can assess one. I give you the sign, you move in.”
“What’s the sign?’ Mace pushed.
“I was thinking a rain dance on the front lawn. That work for you?” I replied snottily.
“Woman, we gotta know what we’re lookin’ for,” Mace growled.
“And you got enough experience, you pay enough attention, you’ll know it when you see it. I have to be free to operate without fitting in some bullshit move that isn’t gonna look right and might alert them I have backup. So just pay attention, yeah?”
Mace stared at me a beat then he looked to Hector.
Hector was grinning.
Whatever.
“We ready to roll?” I asked, looking through the crew and noting that Ren was also grinning, but his eyes were again burning so I didn’t look too long because I needed to think about what I was doing, not my happy place getting happy.
“You armed?” Mace asked.
I pulled out the stun gun but said, “No. You are. Don’t let me get dead.”
“You’re goin’ in unarmed?” Mace pressed.
Jeez!
“The objective is to call the cops in,” I informed him. “We reach our objective, cops show, I’m a trainee investigator gathering hours. I’ve got a gun and a permit but I’m not licensed to carry concealed, and seeing as I know a few of them, I know cops frown on gung ho idiots who carry weapons. That’s why I have Hector and, since you’re here, you.”
Then I turned toward the door, but saw that Rosie and The Kevster were still there and both of them were looking at me.
“You haven’t left,” I noted.
“You totally are badass,” Rosie breathed.
“It’s nearly four in the morning, I’ve spent the last eight hours in a strip club and I want to have sex with my boyfriend before I pass out. So the longer this takes, the more I’ll want to kick someone’s ass. You stay five more seconds, that someone will be you,” I returned.
They must have taken me seriously because I got two wide-eyed stoner looks and they moved.
“Rosie?” I called when he was almost through the door. He turned back to me. “You drop my name again, I’ll hunt you down and cut off everything that protrudes from your body. You get me?”
Wider eyes and he nodded.
He got me.
“Advice,” I continued. “Find another job as a barista and spread your joy that way. You keep growing, you being you, you’ll be dead in five years. I’m seriously pissed at you, but I don’t want you dead. Stop being a moron and make that happen.”
He nodded again though this was less sure.
God.
Rosie.
“Now go,” I ordered.
He went.
My man got close to my back and his mouth came to my ear where he said quietly, “Hurry this shit up, baby, ‘cause what you got last night after I watched you slide down a pole upside down while straddling it is gonna be nothin’ to what I give you tonight watchin’ you be badass.”
I turned and glared up at him. “Don’t turn me on while I’m working, Zano.”
His lips quirked.
“Jesus,” Mace muttered.
“Enough out of you,” I demanded, pointing at Mace. I swung my eyes through the crew and finished, “Now let’s go.”
And with that, we went.
* * * * *
We pulled up to the last house on our list, Mace driving one of Lee’s black company Explorers, me in the passenger seat, Ren behind me.
I stared at the house, sheets covering the windows, weak light coming from nearly every window in the house. There were people moving behind the sheets, and not a few.
Den o’ Tweakers having a late night party.
Shit.
“This is it,” I whispered.
“F*ck yeah, it is,” Mace agreed.
I turned to him, leaning forward and pulling out my phone. “I’m calling Hector. We don’t go in until they’re here. You’re lead. You go to the front, Ren the back. I’m on you. You got an extra gun for Ren?”
“Glove compartment,” Mace grunted.
I hit go on Hector, put my phone to my ear and opened the glove compartment to get the gun for Ren. I undid my seatbelt and leaned around the seat to hand it to him. I heard gun noises as Ren got familiar with it, and it didn’t surprise me he was familiar with guns.
I didn’t let my mind go there, and couldn’t as I engaged with Hector. I told him where we were and to get to us. I also told him their positions. He confirmed and I disconnected, shoving the phone back in my jeans pocket.
“Hector and Tex will take the sides.” I looked around the seat to Ren. “Shit goes down, baby, you disappear,” I ordered gently.
I saw his mouth get tight and the muscle jump in his jaw. This was silent badass for Want you to disappear instead of me, and I belatedly rethought Ren’s ride along.
It should be noted, though, that I loved him like crazy, but I loved him more when he kept his mouth shut and just jerked up his chin.
“The feel of that house, this operation just became mine,” Mace declared, and I looked at him. “You steer clear unless you get my signal, yeah?”
“Gotcha,” I replied immediately, and he did a slow blink.
He thought I’d argue.
He’d learn.
And what he’d learn was that I was a badass. But not a stupid one.
“Stun gun at the ready, Ally,” Mace kept ordering.
I nodded.
We saw the headlights of a Yukon coming our way, the lights going out before it parked.
Hector’s ride.
“Move out,” Mace muttered and we moved.
Ren disappeared quickly. I saw Hector waste no time crossing the yard and vanishing around the side of the house. Tex was lumbering, but his position was closer. He also wasted no time and took it.
I turned on my stun gun as Mace walked right up to the front door.
I stood, back to the house at the side of the door.
He looked at me and gave me a head jerk which I had to interpret on the fly.
I made an educated guess, turned my head the other way, leaned forward and looked into the window at my side.
Mace knocked loud.
All the shadows behind the sheets dropped.
I looked back at Mace and shook my head.
Without delay, he lifted a long leg and put a boot to the door, shouting, “Bond enforcement!”
Interesting.
We had no warrants for anyone inside, but that didn’t mean someone inside didn’t have a warrant on them. So that was a good call. And smart.
I stopped noting that for future reference because the rest happened fast.
Mace went in.
There were noises, thuds, shouts, running feet.
Someone came out the front. I put my foot out, tripped them and they went flying, landing on their front on the cement walk. I moved in quickly, stunned them and they went lax. I grabbed a wrist and started to haul them off the walk so they wouldn’t be trampled if anyone else tried to escape out front. As I did this, I saw Hector running in the front door.
That was when I heard Mace’s whistle.
I took that as his sign.
I got in, Tex coming in behind me, and it appeared Mace had had all the fun, what with the bodies littering the floor and some tweakers cowering in a corner.
But Ren was having fun, too. Across the room, he had hands on a guy—arm and back of the neck. He slammed him face first into the wall, let him go and the guy dropped straight to his back, o-u-t, out.
My man.
Totally hot.
After allowing myself a quiver in my happy place, I took in the space. There was a lot of mess, some not so great furniture, and three car stereos sitting on a filthy, battered coffee table.
That night’s take.
And last, little baggies of meth crystals and drug paraphernalia everywhere.
No weapons.
I looked at Mace. “You hogged all the fun.”
Mace got close and talked low. “We need a reason to be here. You and Tex talk to each one. Get names. Call Brody and have him run them for warrants. Warrant or not, after you talk to Brody, call the cops. They get here, I’ll deal.”
I nodded and turned to Tex to see he’d gone back out and was now dragging in the one I dropped outside. He was doing it by the dude’s hand so the head and the rest of the tweaker bumped and cracked against everything even as he was coming out of the stun. He was probably also tweaking, so that didn’t help.
“Tex, a little care,” I told him.
“Got shit for brains already, don’t matter I stir it up,” Tex replied.
Since I didn’t need a lawsuit on any of my cases, I scratched a chat with Tex about his sidekick do’s and don’ts to happen at a later date and got busy, taking Tex with me.
When I was done, I gave a nod to Mace who was standing sentry at the entrance, while Hector stood sentry at the door that led to the back of the house.
Mace was studying me, looking broody.
Even after Stella gave him good loving and his family back, Mace could be broody. Usually it was hot. Unfortunately, now it served to hide whether he felt I passed or failed.
Whatever. He didn’t sit on the Licensing Board. I failed the Mace Test, I’d live.
I turned to Ren who was providing badass presence at Tex and my backs.
“You good?” I asked.
He was looking beyond me at the wired, strung out, unkempt tweakers, and I didn’t have to know him as well as I did to know he didn’t like what he was seeing.
He then looked at me.
“You sure this is the company you wanna keep?” he asked.
“No. What I’m sure of is that tomorrow and the next day and the next, some person in this ‘hood is not gonna walk out to their car, see their stereo stolen and feel violated,” I replied.
He studied me several beats, grinned and murmured, “Good answer.”
“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.
“F*ckin’ f*ck 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 f*ckin’ 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 f*ck 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.