“Copy. Out,” I told him.
Lifting a hand and pulling out the ear bud, I dropped it in my purse, clamped it shut and slid off the barstool, eyes on my target.
Fun and games done.
Time to get to work.
*
I opened the front door to Ren’s and my house, entering and seeing the space dark except for the flickering light of the TV.
My husband.
Since I was kidnapped, he waited up for me.
Always.
I closed and locked the door, walked in, was assaulted by our brown and white Boxer, Payton, and stopped.
This was because I needed to give my dog some loving. It was also because it was way late and my man was flat out on his back on a couch, head turned, eyes to me and our two year old daughter was dead asleep, curled up on his chest.
“You do know she has a bedtime,” I noted quietly.
“What Katie and I do during father daughter nights is up to us, baby,” Ren replied, just as quietly.
I rolled my eyes on a, “Whatever,” and moved their way.
I bent low, touching my lips to his then putting my hands to my girl. Lifting and turning her, I held her to my chest and she snuggled deep.
Even asleep, she knew Momma was home.
Loved my girl.
Totally.
I looked down at Ren. “Putting her down.”
He looked up at me, and even with the flickering light I could see his eyes were warm and sweet. They got that way frequently, but they got the way they were right now when he was looking at his wife with his daughter.
And I loved my man.
Totally.
“Right,” he replied.
I moved to the stairs, Payton following me, seeing as he doted on his sweet Katie.
Halfway up, the flickering light went out.
I put her down. She shifted around a second and I stood by her with a hand on her back until she settled. But I didn’t leave her until I’d touched her ear, her dark hair and the soft fuzz of her cheek.
Only then did I leave, Payton settling with a groan in her room. He’d start there. He’d come to Ren and me later.
I entered Ren’s and my room, closing the door halfway behind me, and saw him walking out of the bathroom in chocolate brown pajama bottoms.
Delicious.
“She wake?” he asked.
“Not really,” I answered, moving to the bed and sitting on it.
I leaned down to unstrap my sandals.
“Unh-unh.”
That came from Ren.
My happy place spasmed as I bent my head back to look at him.
“What?”
“Fuckin’ you with those on,” he told me and continued, “You can lose the dress, though.”
Eyes never leaving him, I stood up and lifted one of my hands to the side zip.
Slowly, I pulled it down.
Ren’s eyes watched as his mouth asked about my night’s activities, “You get your man?”
“Yep,” I answered.
Zip down, I tugged up my dress and it was gone.
Strapless lacy black bra, high cut lacy black panties, and heels.
Ren’s eyes didn’t leave my body when his mouth noted, “You’re gonna do that twice tonight, baby.”
Righteous.
I grinned at my husband.
My husband lunged at me.
*
“Ren,” I breathed.
I was on my back in our bed, Ren over me, my legs spread, knees high. He had my hands held in his at the sides of my head, pressed into the pillow, our fingers laced, but he’d angled up so he could watch as he thrust into me.
But when I spoke his name, his eyes came to mine.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered.
I complied.
He kept being the kind of bossy I didn’t mind (at all). “Move with me, baby.”
My hips complied.
“Fuck yeah,” he growled, going faster and doing it deep. “That’s it.”
It definitely was.
“Dig in, Ally.”
I dug the heels of my sandals in, gaining purchase to tip my hips.
He rammed in deeper.
“Baby,” I panted.
His head dropped so he could watch again and he groaned, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”
Oh yeah.
It totally was.
But I was close.
My hands clenched in his. “Ren.”
He drove in faster, harder.
“Ren,” I whispered, and suddenly I had his weight, his mouth, his tongue and that did it.
I came. Thighs squeezing, heels digging in, fingers clasping, moaning against his tongue, hard.
It took a while, but when it left me, he rolled so I was straddling him and lifted up, taking us from missionary to lotus.
My number one.
Righteous.
One of his hands went between my legs as his other one gripped my hip encouragingly. “Ride me, honey.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. My arms sliding around his shoulders, I rode him and did it fast, taking him deep, my lips to his, eyes locked, breath mixing.
His thumb pressed in and circled.
I whimpered.
“You’re goin’ again,” he demanded.
I hoped so.
“Okay,” I breathed, moving faster.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his hand sliding up my hip, side, in over my ribs to cup my breast, his thumb dragging over my rock-hard nipple. “Get there, Ally.”
Too late.
I was there.