Rock Chick Renegade

by Ashley, Kristen

  I’d lost track of his hand, what with his mouth at my ear, but now I felt it pul my nightgown to my waist and then his hand slid down inside my underwear and cupped my ass.

  Oh crap.

  That felt good too.

  “How about we stop seein’ each other tomorrow?” Vance suggested.

  “Crowe…” I started, getting the distinct impression he wasn’t taking me seriously but he stopped me speaking by kissing me. He pul ed out my ponytail holder and my hair fel around us.

  When his mouth disengaged from mine, I was breathing heavily and his lips slid back to my neck.

  “How’re you feelin’?” he asked quietly.

  I nodded. At that point, with his hand at my ass and his lips at my neck, I was feeling fine.

  His head came back and he looked at me. His eyes were warm, his face soft and sexy and his hand at my behind moved to the smal of my back. He started stroking me lightly there with his fingertips and tingles were sliding across my skin.

  “Are you tender?” he went on and I realized what he was asking.

  I shook my head.

  One of his hands pul ed back my hair and wrapped it around his fist, the other hand went from the smal of my back, sliding across my side to cup my breast.

  When his thumb stroked my nipple I shot to Grade Five.

  He kissed me again, deep and lots of tongue then soft, sweet, light, quick kisses then lots of tongue again, the whole time his thumb stroked my nipple and his hand was fisted in my hair.

  By the time he stopped kissing me, I was firmly established at Grade Six.

  I completely forgot about not seeing him anymore, shrugged off the other side of my robe and threw it over the back of the couch. Then I yanked his t-shirt out of his jeans, he let go of my hair, did an ab curl and I pul ed the tee over his head and tossed it aside. My mouth went to his col arbone, down his chest, exploring, watching the muscles contract, fascinated and so turned on I took myself to Grade Seven.

  When I made it to his stomach and was sliding lower, using my lips and my tongue, he pul ed me up and kissed me again, hot and to the edge of control.

  “I want you to ride me,” he murmured against my mouth and just those words shot me to Grade Eight. His eyes looked into mine. “You think you could do that?” he asked.

  I bit my lip and nodded. I was pretty sure I could do that, if not I was a quick learner.

  His hand went back into my panties, sliding them part the way down my behind and he whispered, lips stil against my mouth, “Take off your underwear.”

  My heart was beating so hard, I thought he had to be able to feel it. I swung my hips and legs up to the side, pul ed off my underwear and tossed them to the floor. When I finished, to hide the fact that I felt somewhat embarrassed by what I’d just done, I put my mouth on his and kissed him.

  One of his hands was at my ass, the other one between us working at his belt and fly, his mouth and tongue went to my neck, my tingles turned to shivers, the shivers to trembles. I was teetering on the edge of Grade Nine and he wasn’t even inside me yet.

  “You sat there, facin’ a drug dealer across the table, total y in control. Like you were made of ice,” Vance whispered against my neck. “I was so fucking proud of you.” Oh my God.

  He did not just say that.

  “Vance,” I breathed, my heart racing for a new reason, a different kind of warmth spreading through me.

  His fingers curled around my wrist, pul ed my hand between us and wrapped it around him. My head shot around and I stared at him. I’d never touched a man like that before, nowhere near that.

  “Sit up,” he ordered softly before I could freak out.

  He kept my hand where it was, I positioned myself to sit astride him, pul ing up my knees on the couch, lifting up my torso and as I did our hands together guiding him, he slid inside me and then gently Vance pul ed our hands away.

  Then I was up and he had fil ed me.

  It was nice. Grade Nine nice.

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  His hands came to my hips and he coaxed me to move.

  It didn’t take a lot of coaxing, it came natural y. I moved, found my rhythm, one of Vance’s hands at my waist, one cupping my ass. It was great to be in control. It was unbelievable.

  I watched him as I moved. His eyes were locked on mine, that intense, possessive “mine” look in them. If anything, it made me breathe faster, my heart tripping in my chest, the trembles gathering, joining forces, gaining momentum and then shooting between my legs.

  “Come closer,” Vance demanded and without hesitation I leaned into him. “Hold on to me,” he ordered and I put my hands on his shoulders and he again looked me in the eyes.

  That’s when he bucked, slamming inside me. I moaned. I couldn’t help it, it felt so good. He did it again and again and I learned what he meant by riding him and if I thought it was unbelievable before, I was mistaken, this was unbelievable.

  His hand went between us. He touched me at the exact right spot and my hips jerked. I moved with his hand and his bucking hips. I bent closer, my chest against his, my lips against his and he kissed me.

  I was close, heading toward Grade Ten like a rocket.

  “Say my name,” he demanded.

  I opened my eyes, looked into his, he slammed into me again, his finger pressing deep and moving.

  Grade Ten hit me with an overwhelming force and when it did, against his mouth I moaned his name.

  * * * * *

  I found there was an annoying side effect to having an orgasm, a side effect that Vance didn’t seem to share. My body became acquiescent and my mind drifted to ridiculous thoughts like what I’d wear to my birthday party. I never worried about what I was going to wear.

  Vance held me for awhile after we finished, me stil astride him, him stil inside me, my mind inventorying my closet and deciding I needed to go to the mal .

  He knifed up so he was seated, me stil astride him and I made a little mew because it felt kind of good. I could swear I felt him smile against my neck when he heard the sound.

  He disengaged from me gently, pul ing me up at the waist. He turned in the seat, set me on my feet in front of him and held me steady, hands at my hips, him stil seated, looking up at me and I stared down at him.

  God, he was beautiful.

  He got up, pul ed up his jeans and picked me up, again cradled in his arms. He carried me to bed, deposited me on the end of it and I had just enough wherewithal to crawl towards the pil ows and col apse.

  Vance got ful y undressed in the hal and fol owed me up, pul ing the covers out from beneath me and then over both of us. Then he turned me into his arms, tucking my face in his neck.

  “Jules.”

  “Mm?” I murmured, my mind had wandered again and I was thinking I might need more underwear and maybe a new pair of ass-kicking boots from the mal .

  As wel as my party outfit, of course.

  “I didn’t use protection.”

  At his words, my trip to the mal went out of my head with a “poof” and my body went rock solid. Then I unfroze, pul ed back and looked at him.

  He was smiling.

  Smiling.

  I stared at him like he was a lunatic. “What, exactly, is there to smile about?” I yel ed. Then visions of Vance teaching a dark haired little boy how to feloniously disable an alarm popped unwanted into my head and I quit yel ing and breathed, “Oh my God,” then I repeated it, “oh my God.” He rol ed me to my back, his body mostly over mine, he came up on his elbow, stil smiling.

  “Calm down,” he said.

  “Calm… calm down? I’m always lecturing the kids about using condoms. I’m like… why didn’t you… oh my God.”

  “I’l use protection next time.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Next time?”

  He kissed me softly then pul ed back. “Yeah,” he said casual y.

  “It might be too late,” I informed him, deciding to fight the

  “next time” fight later.


  I mean, didn’t men flip out about these things too? His behavior was just bizarre.

  He didn’t respond.

  “What if it’s too late?” I asked.

  “If it’s too late, you’l make a good mother, if you remember to get a babysitter before you go out and crack heads.”

  My eyes bugged out and my mouth dropped open. He was making jokes.

  Making jokes.

  He took in my bug-eyed look and I felt his body shake with laughter. Then I heard his laughter and my blood pressure skyrocketed.

  “This is not funny, Crowe,” I snapped.

  “Yeah it is.”

  “What’s so damned funny about it?”

  “You,” he replied, “you’re very cute, Princess.” Um.

  He did not just say that.

  “Vance…” I said his name in my-word-is-law-and-you-are-in- trouble voice.

  He ignored my voice. “What’s done is done, we can’t go back. There’s no point getting upset about it.”

  “Excuse me, but –” I interrupted but he talked over me.

  “Odds are I didn’t get you pregnant but if there’s anyone I know who could cope, it’s you.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to cope,” I snapped.

  He grinned. “Too late now.”

  He thought this was hilarious.

  I slapped his arm. “Stop grinning.”

  He ran his fingers through my hair at the side of my head and then curled a bunch of it around his fist.

  “Motherhood won’t be a chal enge for you,” he went on, laughter in his voice.

  Apparently he thought he was funny. I frowned at him. I did not think he was funny.

  At al .

  “Let’s see, Sunday night, you saved a runaway from a drug dealer,” he started.

  “I did not, you did. He was kicking my ass.” He talked over me. “Monday night, you brought down two dealers single-handedly.”

  “Wel , I did do that,” I al owed.

  He kept talking. “Tuesday night, you had to take a break from keeping the streets safe for the citizens of Denver to go out with me.”

  “Crowe –”

  “Tonight, you began the healing process of three brothers who’d been torn apart by tragedy. They’re not blood, but brothers al the same.”

  “Stop talking.”

  “What’re you gonna do tomorrow? Cure world hunger?”

  “Crowe, I said, stop talking.”

  He started to laugh again, let go of my hair, curled his arms around me and rol ed to his back, taking me with him.

  I lifted my head, planted my forearms in his chest and frowned down at him but he ignored my frown and kept talking, or I should say, teasing.

  “Discover the cure for cancer?”

  “Crowe. I’l say it again, this is not funny.” His face changed, went soft, his tractor beam switched on and he finished quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. “Motherhood won’t be a chal enge for you.”

  “Crowe.”

  “Stop worrying about it Jules. We’l deal with it if it happens.”

  “No we won’t. We’re over. Done. I’m breaking up with you,” I announced.

  There. I did it.

  His hand twisted in my hair again and he brought my face to his. “You can break up with me on Friday. I wanna take you to your birthday party tomorrow.” Wel , I guessed I didn’t do it and he was stil not taking me seriously.

  “Stop joking, I’m being serious,” I informed him.

  He brought my face the rest of the way to his and kissed me. Not softly this time, there was meaning to his kiss.

  I was a little breathless and my head was slightly muddled when his lips detached from mine but I kept at it even when his lips went to my neck.

  “We need to talk about this,” I told him.

  “We’l talk about it on Friday,” he murmured against my neck and I knew the way he said it that he had absolutely no intention of talking about it Friday.

  Then his tongue slid from my jaw to my shoulder and I shivered.

  “We need to talk about it now,” I tried to speak in my word-is-law voice but it came out breathy.

  “Friday,” he rol ed me to my back again and came over me.

  “Vance –”

  His mouth against mine, he said softly, “Shut up Jules.”

  “Stop tel ing me to shut up.”

  He kissed me quiet and while he did his hand went up my nightgown, straight to my breast and his thumb took a swipe at my nipple. I gasped against his mouth and after my gasp he lifted his head an inch and looked me in the eye. His eyes were now ful -on intense, his sexual tractor beam had gone super-powered and al my breath escaped my lungs.

  “You wanna talk while I go down on you, be my guest. But I’m final y gonna taste you and then I’m gonna fuck you again and it might be distracting.”

  Oh my God.

  I was already at Grade Six.

  “You wanna talk?” he asked.

  I immediately shook my head, not because I didn’t have anything to say, mainly because I couldn’t speak.

  He grinned and it was wicked.

  Then his mouth came to mine and after that he did as he promised.

  But he wore a condom this time.

  * * * * *

  The house was dark, Boo was snuggled into the smal of my back and I was curled into Vance’s side, my arm around his waist, his tucked under and curled around me, hand at my hip. I was thinking that sex was good but oral sex might be even better. It was a tossup and I was mental y enumerating the pros (there were lots) and cons (I couldn’t find any) of both when Vance said softly, “Tel me about your Aunt Reba.”

  Stil in the throes of post-orgasm mel owness I didn’t clam up instead, I asked, “What do you want to know?” His fingers were tracing patterns on my hip and I liked the feel of it, it was sweet and relaxing.

  “Did she look like you?” he asked.

  I shook my head against his shoulder but said, “Maybe a little in the face. I look like my Mom. I have my Dad’s hair.” At that Vance’s hand went from my hip and captured a tendril of my hair and I could feel him twisting it at my back.

  That was sweet and relaxing too.

  “She was wise,” I whispered, smiling against his shoulder and thinking about Auntie Reba. “She was a lot younger than my Mom but very wise. I know a lot of people don’t believe in this kind of thing but I’m sure she had an old soul.”

  His body heat was warming me, I pushed closer to him and for some reason kept talking.

  “She was real y young when my family died, probably too young to take me on but she was al I had left. Nick and her had just started going out when it happened. I think they got married because of me.”

  When I stopped talking, Vance didn’t say anything so I kept going.

  “Not that they wouldn’t have gotten married anyway.

  Nick… I’ve never seen a love like that. He’s stil lost to this day without her. I used to wish he’d find someone but he never wil . It makes me sad but I’m glad Auntie Reba stil has someone to love her like that. She deserved it because she gave her love like that.”

  Vance stopped twirling my hair and turned into me, wrapping both his arms around me.

  He remained silent and I looked at his face in the moonlight from the window. Then do not ask me why, looking at Vance in the moonlight, I shared my most favorite memory of my Auntie Reba.

  “Nick and I used to listen to music. A lot. Nick was into Southern Rock but also a big fan of Elton John. I loved Stevie Wonder and Nick liked to encourage my love of music so he bought me everything that had anything to do with Stevie. I remember lying in our living room, we lived in a different house then, I had my back on this big, pink bean bag they bought me for Christmas and Nick and I were listening to Stevie. Auntie Reba came in and lay down beside me, her back on the bean bag with me. Stevie’s

  ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ came on and Auntie Reba grabbed my hand in the middle of the song. A
fter the song was done, she just looked at me.” I sucked in my lips and Vance’s hand came to my jaw, his thumb ran across my lower lip when I released it and his eyes, I could tel , were looking in mine. I was whispering when I carried on. “I knew what she meant. She didn’t have to say anything. Even though I wasn’t their child, I knew what she meant. Have you heard that song? Do you know what I mean?”

  “I’ve heard the song,” he responded softly.

  I took in a breath, it broke in the middle but I kept it together.

  Then I stared at him and with a lot of courage and a little moonlight, I asked quietly, “What was your Mom like?” He answered immediately, “She was beautiful. She was broken.”

  I waited but he didn’t continue.

  “Do you ever think you’l try to find them?” I asked.

  “I know where they are.”

  I blinked at him. “Have you…?” I started but he knew what I was going to say.

  “No,” he answered.

  “Wil you?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to tel me about it?” I whispered, my stomach clenching, my heart slowing, knowing I shouldn’t care but wanting him to say yes.

  “No,” he said.

  I nodded, letting him have his space but feeling disappointment running through me like acid. I dipped my chin and pressed my face into his throat so he wouldn’t see it.

  “Maybe,” he said from above me, “if you break up with me on Saturday, I might tel you on Friday.” My body went stil .

  “Though, I’m thinkin’, I’l tel you on Saturday if you break up with me on Sunday.”

  My head tipped back and he was grinning down at me.

  My eyes narrowed on him. “Crowe.”

  “Shut up Jules.”

  “Don’t tel me –”

  His lips touched mine. “Shut up,” he said quietly. “Go to sleep.”

  I tried to force my way out of his arms but they went ultra-tight and he kept me where I was.

  “You’re very annoying,” I told his throat.

  He didn’t answer.

  “I’m stil breaking up with you on Friday,” I went on.

  “No you aren’t.”

  I went silent.