Rock Redemption (Rock Kiss 3)

“If you ask nicely.”

Noah hadn’t ever showered with a woman before. Watching Kit pin up her barely dry hair, her sleek body naked, he started to think he might just like this. Then she turned on the water and stepped in, shooting him a playful look over her shoulder, and he knew he liked this.

Stripping off his own clothes, he got in behind her and bent to kiss her neck, his hands on her hips. He knew she was still technically mad at him, and he deserved it, but she loved him too. Even when he fucked up, she still loved him.

He could always come home.

She wouldn’t kick him out just because he was imperfect. The only thing he had to do was take care of her heart, a heart she’d entrusted to him. He could do that—crossing her line in the sand held absolutely no appeal when on this side stood his Kit who wanted to build a home with him.

“Hey,” she said in mock reproof when he ran his hands up to cup her breasts. “I thought you wanted to shower?”

“I am showering,” he said, feeling young for the first time in an eternity. “With a gorgeous woman I intend to lather up.” He took her fluffy loofah from her, on which she’d squeezed some girly-smelling body wash, and began to run it over her body.

Leaning back into him, Kit let him do what he wanted, and what he wanted was to worship her. She smiled up at him, and for the first time in his life, a sexual situation was playful. He held the eye contact, kept returning to it, and he had fun. When she stole the loofah from him and tried to cover him in her perfumed body wash, he threatened her with all kinds of revenge.

Laughing, she swapped the loofah for the bar of plain soap he preferred and began to soap him up. He wasn’t sure he’d like that part, but he did, because… well, because it was Kit. It was as simple as that.

Sinking into her, he pressed her to the wall and kissed her. She was still smiling and he tasted it as they kissed, as he ran his hand down her stomach to slide two fingers through the liquid-soft flesh between her thighs. He hadn’t lied—he wasn’t very good at the foreplay stuff, hadn’t really ever done it before her, but he wanted to touch Kit, wanted to explore with her.

“Tell me what you like,” he said, bracing his other arm above her head.

She shivered as his fingers brushed a particular spot. “Oh, that’s good. Do that.” There were more whispers after that, more smiles, more kisses.

At one point she gripped his wrist and said, “Noah, oh please don’t move.”

He didn’t move. He just upped the pressure.

Back bowing, her breasts lifted up as if for his delectation, Kit came on a little scream. Noah’s cock was pulsing, but he was kind of addicted to seeing Kit orgasm, so he decided to continue his education in foreplay by pressing one hand to her lower back and bending his head to her breasts.

He licked, he sucked, and after a while, Kit’s gasped breathing turned even more ragged. “Can I touch you here again?” he asked, cupping her between her thighs. She’d pushed him away earlier, saying it was too sensitive.

A moan as he rubbed his stubbled jaw over her breasts. “After that orgasm, you can do whatever you like, Noah St. John.”

Feeling like a damn god, he stroked his fingers deep into her, listened to her answers to his carnal questions, and had the reward of feeling her clench convulsively on his driving fingers as she came again with shocked suddenness.

Yeah, that was hot.

Drawing out his fingers from her possessive grasp, he lifted her up against the wall and entered her with his cock. He was hard as stone, and with Kit so honey slick and sated around him, he could’ve pounded her balls-deep and it would’ve been fine. But Noah found he had an unexpected patience today.

His balls might be turning blue, but damn, his cock liked being inside Kit.

It was a long, slow session full of romantic bullshit, and afterward, when they were drying off, Noah realized he’d made love to Kit. Not fucked her, not had sex. Made love. He’d always thought that was a dumb phrase, but not today. Today it felt exactly right.

Towel wrapped around her body and tucked over her breasts, Kit came over to him and, linking her hands with his, said, “We’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” Noah said. “We are.” He was still going to fuck up, but since he wasn’t about to hurt Kit, wasn’t about to give her up, the fuckups would be manageable. And if she kept smiling at him that way, as if he delighted her… Yeah, well, maybe he wouldn’t fuck up that much after all. “I love you, Kit. I will always love you, and I will never mess this up.”