If You See Her (29 page)

It could happen. He hoped.

With enough cold water.

But he might need to move to Antarctica.

The shirt smelled of him.

So did the bed.

Hope slid between soft, smooth sheets the color of jade. Dark, rich green. She stroked a hand down them and lay on her side, wondered what in the hell she was doing.

Besides shivering.

Nervous. Shit. She was nervous.

Why
?

It’s not like we’re going to do anything. We’ve already decided that
.

But this … sleeping in the bed with him … 
just
sleeping, somehow seemed even more intimate than sex.

She heard the water in the bathroom cut off.

Abruptly, her stomach started to pitch.

She groaned and turned her face into the pillow. The pillow that smelled just like Remy.

What was she
doing?

Two minutes later, she heard the soft whisper as the bathroom door opened, the click as the light was turned off. “Hope?”

She turned her face toward him and through the dim light, saw him lingering near the bed.

“You okay?”

No, I’m not
.

“Yeah.”

His teeth flashed white. “Liar.”

“Okay. I’m nervous. But so what?” She pulled back the blankets. “You joining me or what?”

Heaven and hell, he thought. Heaven and hell.

She hissed as his arm brushed hers. “Damn it, you’re freezing!”

“Ah … hot water thing.” She scooted over and pressed her body against his, bringing that slice of heaven and hell so much closer. Remy had just spent long, aching minutes in the shower and he’d made judicious use of his own hands. When that hadn’t helped, he’d switched off the hot water and gone for cold.

And now it all proved pointless because all Hope did was rest her arm across his belly and he wanted to push her over onto her back, spread her legs, and crawl on top of her.

Instead, he lay there, gritting his teeth as she wiggled and squirmed around. He shifted and moved his arm under her and she sighed, her head cuddled on his shoulder.

Abruptly he smiled. That felt so right, he almost heard a click.

“This feels nice,” Hope murmured.

Nice. That didn’t quite touch it. He wasn’t ever going
to be able to sleep and it didn’t matter. This just felt too damn perfect. Who needed sleep? But in under ten minutes, sleep came crashing down on him, a heavy, warm weight.

“Wuh …”

Hope jerked upright, staring off into the darkness, disoriented and confused.

A hand touched her arm.

“It’s just the phone,” Remy murmured.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she turned her head, tried to make out his face in the darkness.

Remy
.

Holy shit.

She’d spent the entire damn night in bed with Remy.

“You okay?” he asked gruffly as he sat up.

“Yeah.” Her voice came out in a squeak. She cleared her voice and tried again. “Um, yeah. Just a little startled.”

“Hmm.” He bent over and pressed his lips to her brow.

The phone rang again.

He sighed and reached for it. “This is Jennings.”

She peered at his face.

“Hello?”

He grunted and disconnected the phone.

“Wrong number?”

“No telling. They hung up.”

Her eyes had adjusted and she could see his face as he squinted at the clock. “Almost five
A.M
. Bastard.”

Hope snickered.

“Yeah. You laugh. You slept through the first three calls.”

“What calls?”

He stroked a hand up her back. “Somebody’s called three other times. Probably some idiot kid—might even
be one of Brody’s buddies.” He lay back down and tugged her up against him. “Go back to sleep.”

“Hmmm.” She snuggled up against him, amazed at how easy it felt to do that. “Called three times, huh?”

“Yeah. They call any more, I’ll just turn the damn phone off. I’ve got my iPhone if there’s an emer—”

The phone started ringing. He grabbed the phone and snarled into it. “Yeah?”

Hope assumed there wasn’t an answer when he slammed the phone down five seconds later.

“Son of a
bitch
,” he swore. Followed immediately by, “Sorry.”

He sat up and Hope pushed up on her elbow, watching as he climbed out of bed. “Watch your eyes—I’m hitting the lights.”

“What are you doing?”

“Turning off the damn phones and grabbing my iPhone,” he growled. “This is bullshit.”

She peered at him through her lashes, unable to stop from smiling as he stalked out of the room.

He looked … out of sorts, she decided.

And adorable.

That familiar thrill of heat shot through her belly. Catching her lip between her teeth, she shot a glance at the clock.

Five a.m. Would either of them really sleep much more before he had to get ready for work? That thrill of heat spread. Slipping out of the bed, she made her way to the bathroom and eased the door closed. She used it quickly and then washed her hands, brushed her teeth. Morning breath would kill things, right?

Think about the little things. Not what you’re going to try to do when you’re both back in bed …

Easier that way. Definitely. Her breathing hitched.

Her heart started to race and she suspected she just
might have a panic attack if she let herself … 
little things!

Idiot phone calls in the dead of night. Morning breath.

The fact that she and Remy both used the same kind of toothpaste.

Three minutes after she slipped into the bathroom, she slid out and found Remy coming out of the bedroom. He gave her a tired smile, stroked his hand through her hair.

Just that light, easy touch and she watched as some of the strain faded from his eyes. “You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He scowled. “Just irritated. Tired. And pissed. You were supposed to be here so you could sleep. And here’s this …”

She smiled at him. “Not your fault.”

He just snorted. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

As he disappeared into the bathroom, she went back into the bedroom and wondered if she could do this.

Hope had never seduced a man in her life.

She didn’t even know
how
.

Her heart started to race and insanely, she wondered if Lena would absolutely hate her if she called her before dawn.

No
, she thought, disgustedly.
You’re not calling her
.

You can figure this out …

She went back into the bedroom and turned off the lights. That first. Definitely that first. Because the most obvious way she figured out to clue Remy in would be to take off the blue shirt he’d loaned her to sleep in, and there was no way she was going to just stretch out naked on the bed with the lights burning.

On her way to the bed, she reached for the buttons, but her fingers were shaking so badly, she couldn’t manage to undo even one. Finally, she just jerked it off over her head and left it in a puddle next to the bed. She
shimmied out of her panties and slid into the bed, listening for the bathroom door.

The water came on. Holding her breath, she lay there.

Her heart continued to race. What was she doing … why was she doing this?

What if he didn’t really want her? Oh, fuck, what if she wasn’t any good?

She took a deep breath. And immediately, his scent flooded her head. Somehow, that was all it took, and all those questions abruptly ceased.

She heard the water go off, the door opened. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “You can do this.” Then she looked toward the door, watching as his shadow appeared.

You can do this
.

You can do this, man
, he thought, setting his jaw as he started toward the bed.

Half the night, he had slept next to Hope, feeling her small, sleek form pressed against his. He hadn’t shattered yet.

He could manage a few more hours.

In another hour or two, he could even wake her up, make her breakfast.

Yeah. He could do this. And in a few more weeks, maybe she’d trust him enough …

Maybe. Maybe. Too many fucking maybes and his dick was a constant ache, his balls felt like they were in a knot and if he took any longer to climb into the bed, she was going to ask him what was wrong.

You can do this
.

He slid into the bed.

Hope pressed up against him.

And every last brain cell died.

Oh, fucking shit. She was naked.

As she pressed her lips against his jaw, Remy managed to croak out, “Hope, what are you doing?”

“It’s not yesterday now.”

Her voice was husky with sleep, but calm and steady. Steady—

Which was exactly what Remy
didn’t
feel.

His arm curled around her shoulder, his fingers grazing her naked shoulder and despite himself, he found himself stroking that smooth, soft flesh. “Yesterday?” he said dumbly.

“Yeah. It’s not yesterday. I haven’t had a bad day. I’m not feeling raw or vulnerable … I just feel you. And I want to be with you.”

“Hope …” He fumbled for the words, certain there was something he needed to do or say. He was supposed to be taking his time, moving slow, at her pace …

Then Hope shifted closer and he felt her naked breasts, small and firm, pressing against his chest and every last thought of being logical, of being a gentleman and letting her take her time—
all of it
—just drained away.

Groaning, he stroked a hand down her back, reveling in the feel of her silken skin. Pulling her atop him, he kneaded the taut flesh of her butt and muttered, “Kiss me.”

“Hmmm.” She pressed her mouth against his, tasting of toothpaste and Hope. He traced his tongue along the curve of her mouth, shuddered as hers came out to meet his.

With one fist tangled in her hair, he tugged her head back, scraped his teeth down her neck. “You sure about this?” And even as he asked, some voice in the back of his head was screaming at him—
Are you nuts? She’s sure. She’s buck-naked, sitting on your lap—she’s sure!

No, he wasn’t nuts. He was desperate and if she
changed her mind, Remy wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk out of here. He’d probably have to crawl.

“Yes … I’m more sure of this than I’ve been of anything else in a very long time.”

Oh, hell. In the dim light that filtered in through the blinds, he could barely make out the shape of her face, the glint in her eyes, and fuck, that wasn’t enough. Reaching over, he hit the bedroom light and she flinched, her eyes squinting against the brightness.

He sat up, brought her head against him, shielding her from it. Pressing his lips against her shoulder, he muttered, “I want to see you. Dying to …”

He shifted around and stretched her out on the bed, watching her face. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes glittering bright with embarrassment, but Remy wasn’t about to turn the light off. “Damn it, you’re beautiful.”

“No, I’m not.”

He dipped his head and pressed his lips to the tip of one tight nipple. “I’m the one looking at you, and I see beautiful.” And he also got to see just how far down that blush of hers went … it spread down to the tops of her breasts, turning them the same soft pink as her cheeks.

“Beautiful,” he whispered again.

When he looked at her, Hope felt beautiful.

She wasn’t, not really, and she knew it. She was too skinny and on top of that, she was too self-conscious and now scarred to boot. But he made her feel beautiful.

A knot settled in her throat and she swallowed around it as she smiled at him. Reaching down, she combed a hand through his hair. “When you look at me, I feel beautiful.”

He slid a look at her from behind his lashes, that amazing blue burning hot and bright. “You
are
beautiful
 … and right now, you’re mine.” He laid a hand on her knee, stroked it up over her hip, her waist, her ribs. Then he cupped her breast and plumped it in his hand, pushing it up.

Her breath caught as he took the nipple in his mouth, laving it with his tongue, stroking it and drawing it deep.

She shuddered, curling her arm around his neck and cuddling him close. The heat of his body was like a brand—marking her, warming her. Warming her … all the way through. Hope didn’t think she’d
ever
felt warmed quite like this.

It wasn’t just on the surface. Remy did something to her—he brought something more to it. To everything. Even just a smile.

But this …

He skimmed his lips down over her belly and she hissed out a breath, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Remy …”

“Shhhh.”

Her eyes widened as he shifted lower and lay between her thighs. Immediately, she tried to close them, but there was no way—not with those wide shoulders settled there. She squirmed and wiggled, pressing her hips against the mattress.

“Remy …”

He slid her a look. “Hmmm?”

“I …” Embarrassment, humiliation tied her tongue into knots. How in the hell did she tell him that—He lowered his head and nuzzled her. She bucked her hips. He took advantage of that and slid his hands beneath her, cupping her butt in his hands.

“I don’t think—”

“Hope, do me a favor,” he said gruffly. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss against her hip bone. “Just stop thinking.”

And the next kiss was right against her sex, pretty much guaranteeing the fact that Hope stopped thinking. Her breath caught in her throat as he licked her, his tongue rasping over the swollen, tight bud of her clitoris. She reached out, desperate for something to grab onto. Her hands tangled in the sheets beneath her.

As he stroked his tongue over her a second time, a third, Hope groaned.

Then he sucked on her and everything inside her splintered, shattered.

It hit hard, and fast, coming out of nowhere and as she climaxed, she could feel him muttering against her flesh, talking to her. Each time she started to drift back down, he’d touch her again, lick her or rake his teeth lightly over the sensitized flesh and that would just draw it out … endlessly.

She was still shaking and gasping for air when her vision cleared sometime later. She had no idea how much time had passed. Dazed, she stared at Remy, her breathing ragged, her heart like a drumbeat in her ears.