Rock Chick Regret by Kristen Ashley
I peeked around Hector’s body.
Jack stood there.
“Hi, Jack,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”
Jack’s eyes came to me and then (no kidding!), he winked.
Then his hand came up and he held out a set of keys to Hector.
Hector looked at the keys then at Jack.
Jack jerked his head to the street where a brand new, shiny, black GMC Yukon was parked behind Hector’s Bronco.
When Hector didn’t take the keys, Jack tossed them in the air and Hector’s hand shot out and caught them. Jack grinned at me, turned, walked across the porch, down the steps and to the car parked behind the Yukon. Jack’s girlfriend, Melinda (one of Smithie’s strippers, Jack was the only Nightingale man who didn’t care if his girlfriend stripped), was sitting in the front seat waving at us, a big, goofy grin on her face.
I waved back.
Jack got into the driver’s side and took off.
Hector closed the door.
Then, slowly, he turned to me.
I got one look at his face and started backing up, across the platform then down the steps.
“It’s really for me,” I told him.
He advanced.
I kept backing up.
“It’s selfish, I know but you never take one of Lee’s Explorers. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
He kept advancing.
The back of my foot hit the stairs.
“Merry Christmas!” I shouted stupidly.
He stopped advancing slowly and launched himself at me.
I whirled and ran up the stairs.
I tripped almost all the way up and he caught me at the waist before I fell, swung me up in his arms, my limbs flying out-of-control.
“Hector!” I yelled but he walked with long strides to the bedroom and tossed me on the bed.
I turned, got on all fours and scrambled.
He caught my ankles, yanked my knees out from under me so I was on my belly and he landed on top of me.
I squirmed.
He slid off the side but one of his heavy thighs was on mine, his face in my neck, his hand went straight into my shorts and panties, sliding over my bottom to between my legs.
I stilled.
His hand kept going until his fingers curved around and hit the spot.
I whimpered and twisted my head. His mouth was there and he kissed me, hot, deep, wet, urgent and fiery.
We went at it, all hands, mouths, teeth and tongues (then other parts of our anatomy).
It was wild.
It was beautiful.
After, I was on top, still connected to him, my face in his throat, my breath still heavy.
Both his hands were cupping my bottom.
“You just can’t stop yourself can you?” he asked, referring to the Yukon.
I shook my head, burrowed closer and gave him a squeeze with my arms (and other parts of me besides). His fingers tensed on my bottom.
“Had my eye on one of those for a long time, mamita,” he muttered, still referring to the Yukon.
“I know,” I replied softly. Then, for some reason, into his throat, uber-quietly, I whispered, “I love you, babe.”
His body went still.
Then he rolled so I was on the bottom, he was on top.
His head came up and I saw his face was warm, his eyes, though, were hot.
He touched his mouth to mine and muttered, “Y te amo también, mi cielo.”
And, from Blanca’s lessons, I knew this meant, And I love you too, my sky.
My belly fluttered and I smiled at him.
He smiled back.
His mouth was coming toward mine when the doorbell rang again.
Instead of kissing me, his forehead came to rest on mine and he mumbled, “Jesus.”
We did the getting up and putting on clothes thing again and walked downstairs, side-by-side, his arm around my shoulders, mine around his waist.
He opened the door.
Buddy and Ralphie were standing there. Ralphie was holding a squirming, panting, blond-faced, black-bodied German Shepherd puppy with a big, red and green striped ribbon around its neck.
“Oh my God!” I squealed, the puppy jumped at my squeal, its eyes coming to me, it leaped out of Ralphie’s arms into mine. “Buddy, you wonderful man, you got Ralphie a puppy!”
I held the puppy to my chest, walking into the living room, nuzzling her soft face and puppy floppy ears with my nose, smelling the sweet puppy scent as she licked me all over. I giggled and gave her soft puppy body cuddles.
I looked at Buddy. “You’re the greatest. I want one just like her.”
“Um… sweets?” Ralphie called and I looked at him.
I saw all three men standing there. Buddy and Ralphie were smiling huge. Hector had his arms crossed on his chest and his mouth was doing that fighting-a-grin thing.
“What?” I asked.
“Buddy didn’t give me that dog,” Ralphie answered.
My eyebrows drew together. “Did you buy it for yourself?”
Buddy chuckled. Hector lost the fight with his grin and smiled, full and glamorous.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
Buddy answered, “She’s for you, sweetheart.”
I blinked.
“From Double H,” Ralphie added.
My eyes flew to Hector.
“It’s selfish,” he said. “I want to know you’re guarded when I’m not home.”
I felt the tears clog my throat.
Then I shouted, “I am not going to cry!” right before I burst into tears.
In a flash, the puppy and I were in Hector’s arms.
He held me, I cried, the puppy squirmed and licked and Ralphie produced a camera and took a photo of the three of us.
It came out beautiful. Hector’s arm around my shoulders, his fingers in the ruff of the dog’s neck, his head bent to us, my forehead tucked in his throat, the puppy looking like she was smiling at both of us (but, really, she was panting).
I named the dog Gretel (she was German).
I put the picture on the mantel in the dining room.
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About the Author
Kristen Ashley lives in the beautiful West Country of England with her husband and her cat. She came to England by way of Denver, where she lived for twelve years, but she grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana. Her family and friends are loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.
Kristen’s Mom moved her and her brother and sister in with their grandparents when she was six. Her grandparents had a daughter much younger than her Mom so they all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched). Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.
And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.
Discover other Titles by Kristen Ashley
Rock Chick Series:
Rock Chick
Rock Chick Rescue
Rock Chick Redemption
Rock Chick Renegade
Rock Chick Revenge
Rock Chick Reckoning
The ‘Burg Series:
For You
At Peace
Golden Trail
The Colorado Mountain Series:
The Gamble
Sweet Dreams
Lady Luck
Dream Man Series:
Mystery Man
Wild Man
The Fantasyland Series:
Wildest Dreams
The Golden Dynasty
Fantastical
Other Titles by Kristen Ashley:
Fairytale Come Alive
Lacybourne Manor
Mathilda, SuperWitch
Penmort Castle
Sommersgate House
Three Wishes
Connect with Kristen Online:
Official Website: www.
Kristen’s Blog: www.kristenashley.net/menu/blog.html
Kristen’s Facebook Page
Follow Kristen on Twitter: KristenAshley68
Cover Art by Maxine Hayes [email protected]
Kristen Ashley, Rock Chick Regret