3-Rock Chick Redemption by Kristen Ashley

Author:Kristen Ashley [Ashley, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Romance
ISBN: 9781453720691
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Prayers

Hank went to get Shamus and I went to the safe room to pack my stuff.

I was standing at the reclining chair, shoving the last bits into the bag when Shamus ran to my side.

“Hey boy,” I said, bending at the waist to give him an ear scratch that turned into a hand wash from Shamus’s over-excited tongue. Apparently, the last five hours away from me had been doggie-traumatic for my furry chocolate boy.

“Ooo,” I cooed. “Did Auntie Roxie leave you with the scary, badass dudes in the boring room? Poor fella.”

I felt Hank’s heat at my back before his arm slid around my middle and I straightened. His chin came to my neck and shifted my hair, then his lips were there. Shamus sat on my feet.

“Have a good day?” Hank said against my neck.

I shivered, then turned in his arm, his head came up and I looked up at him. Shamus shifted to sit with his body leaning against both of us.

“Yeah,” I told Hank, surprising myself because I meant it.

“Good,” he said, and I could tell he meant it too.

I looked at him. He looked his usual handsome but tired. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep, interrupted or not. He hadn’t had his food delivered, even by a snotty bitch. He hadn’t spent his afternoon being a make-believe, kickass assassin and killing make-believe orcs. He’d spent his day being a real life cop and going to ugly crime scenes.

“How was your day?” I asked, knowing the answer.

“Shit,” he replied.

Yes, I was right. I knew the answer and I felt something happening to me, something drawing me to him and, against the directives of my mind (if not my heart), my body leaned into his. His other arm came around me.

“I guess it’s not fun, going to the scene of a homicide at three o’clock in the morning.”

“No. As many times as I’ve done it, it’s still not fun.”

As many times as he’d done it.

Good God.

Before I could stop myself, I lifted my hand and, with my middle finger, I traced the lower edge of his bottom lip. I watched my finger touch him and then I looked into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I whispered.

His eyes changed. I couldn’t describe it, they warmed, softened and I felt the change in a physical way, straight to the deepest depths of my belly.

Then his head bent toward me, my hand slid across the stubble of his cheek and he kissed me, no messing around, it was full on hot and heavy with lots of tongue.

When he was done, his mouth trailed to my ear as I held on tight, trying to recover from the kiss. My hand that was at his lip was around his neck, my fingers in his hair, my other arm was wrapped around his waist.

At my ear, his voice hoarse with something—passion, maybe just emotion—he murmured, “I want to fuck you right now. I want to slide inside you and erase this shitty day.”

“Whisky,” I breathed, not intending to say anything more, his words had robbed me of speech.

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