RR&R 01 Real (33 page)
Remy,” I say thickly, my heart pounding because I don’t know how I’ll cope if he questions me about tonight. “Would you hold me for a bit?”
I wait, shaking a little, and I think he notices and relents.
Come here,” he says softly, shoving his chair back as he extends out his arm, eagerly snuggle into his engulfing male hug. He chuckles when I squirm to get closer, and I’m acting so needy that his dimples take a peek, which seems to delight him.
“
You missed me?” His eyes dance as he cups my face and I feel all his calluses on my jaw and cheeks, and that comforting feeling that only Remy can arouse sweep through me.
“
Yes,” I gasp.
His fingers outline the curves of my breasts as he drags his mouth along my jaw and sinks his nose into the back of my ear, inhaling me, groaning softly in pleasure, and blood pounds in my brain, leaping excitedly from my heart. “Remy …” I plead, grabbing his t-shirt and shoving it up to his shoulders.
He grabs the cotton in his fist and with a muscular yank, tosses it over his head, and I quickly slide my hands over his chest, kissing every part I can get.
I missed you so much,” I choke out emotionally, kissing his collarbone, his jaw, grabbing his hair as I press my face into his neck anything to get close to this man.
I tremble with his admission. “But I missed your voice. Your hands. Your mouth ... being with you … watching you … touching you … smelling you …” I trail off. He smells so good, like he does, clean and manly. I take his lips more desperately.
He returns my kiss, slowly at first, then with more compulsion as he unbuttons my shirt and strips me bare with fast, anxious hands.
I know he’s not as verbally expressive as I, but I can feel his burning urgency when he grabs my hips and pulls me back to his lap, as though he needs to be inside me as fiercely as I need him to fill me. I’m naked and he’s still wearing his sweatpants, but I’m dying with love and the need to physically express myself to him.
My whole body clenches when his erection settles hot and pulsing between my thighs, and there’s an overwhelming need in me to give him something I've never given any man before.
Shivering uncontrollably, I slide between his powerful thighs at the same time he yanks down his drawstrings pants and shoves them partly down his hips. I see a peek of his star tattoo and then his erection pops free, and in the instant my knees hit the carpet, my fingers and hands are all over his heat, his hardness, his heavy testicles, all full and primed for me.
I want to kiss you here…” My voice shakes with desire as I look into his lust-tightened face through eyes that I can barely keep open from the want, “I want to drown in you, Remington. I want your taste … in me …”
My sex burns wet with every drop of escaped semen that I taste, and I’m so intoxicated with this man, I can’t stop enjoying the raw look on his face as I work my tongue along his enormous hard length.
Super. Completely. Speedy.
manic.
At what time did she say she’d be back?
You sure Riley’s getting her?
Why the fuck are they taking so long?
Pete says he closed the money topic and dispatched Remington to his room as soon as Riley texted we were on our way back, and that’s when I found him hearing the loudest rock song I’ve ever listened to, all while wearing a somber, thoughtful expression on his face. Did he think I would never come back?
And is that what he does when his insides begins to spin in turmoil? Listen to hard rock?
I don’t know. All I know now is that he fucked me four times that night, like he needed to claim me once more, and now Remy has totally gone rogue and appears to run on Red Bull 24/7.
He’s like fully charged.
His usual cocky self to the tenth power.
He attacks me in bed like a lion this morning. “You look especially good, Brooke Dumas. Good, and warm, and wet, and I wouldn’t mind having you on my breakfast platter.” His tongue twirls a wet line between my breasts with his tongue, then goes all out and licks my collarbone like my lion always does. “All that’s missing is a cherry on top, but I’m sure we have some.”
The mischief in his eyes melts me as he produces a cherry from within his hand, which makes me realize he’d probably fetched it from the kitchen during the night and had been waiting to pounce on me the instant I woke up.
Lord, he is a predator indeed.
Groaning groggily, I roll to my back and look into his heart-stoppingly handsome face. Scruffy jaw. Dark eyes twinkling. Dimpled smile.
God, I’m done for.
Who’s your man?” he asks gruffly, and he kisses me, rubbing that cherry against my clit. “Who’s your man, baby?”
“
You,” I moan.
“
Who do you love?”
Tremors run across my limbs as he tortures my clit with the cherry and at the same time penetrates my sex with one long finger, and I stare dazedly into his eyes. I can see miniature flecks of blue in their mysterious depths, and oh, I desperately want to tell him,
You, I’ve only ever loved you
, but I can’t. Not like this, not when he may not even remember. “You drive me crazy, Remy,” I whisper, and brazenly grab his cock and drag him anxiously to me, so that he can fill me up and rub my swollen sex with his hard cock and make me smell of him again.
I now notice that when he’s black, his eyes aren’t really black, but a really dark navy, flecked with gray and blue. But his mood is … somehow, black. Not always, but sometimes. It’s either supremely elevated, or super pissy. Sometimes nothing makes him happy. Diane is feeding him shit. Coach is not training him hard. And I’m looking too much at Pete, for god’s sake.
But even as ridiculous as it sounds, these things seem like a very big deal to Remy, and now it seems like my entire day is absorbed by his energy and stamina, and I’m just scrambling to keep up.
Who are all these people here for?” I ask when we land in New York to find a crowd of spectators have lined up at the FBO where he parks his jet, and they’re barely being held back by yellow chords and airport security.
“
For me, who else,” he declares.
He grabs me seductively to him. “Come here, baby. I want these good folks to know you’re with me.” Large, sure hands grab my butt cheeks as flashes go off.
Remington!”
Why Paris?”
“
Why the fuck not?”
“
Because you have a fight in three days!” He makes me laugh when he’s like this. I grab him and kiss him back, deep and fast, before anyone else boards, and I whisper, “Let’s go anywhere with a bed.”
“
Let’s do it on a swing.”
“
Remington!”
“
Let’s do it in an elevator,” he insists.
I want
you
. In an elevator.”
“
And I want you. In a bed. Like normal people.”
Feeling warm and wanted, I nod, grin, and lace my fingers through his, kissing each one of his bruised knuckles.
His head tilts in curiosity, and his dimples slowly vanish. He looks like he's never been given these kinds of attentions until me. Suddenly, it makes me want to give him more.
So I do.
Crawling closer to him, I cup his jaw and kiss his hard cheek and run my hands through his hair, watching his gaze go heavy with desire along with something else. Something that makes his eyes look mysteriously dark and liquid.
Car doors open.
It appears Coach is riding up front in the limo, so Pete, Riley, and Diane settle on the bench across us. Remy squeezes my fingers as I try to ease away—that action alone telling me not to—then he slides down the edge of his seat and slumps his big shoulders as if he’s trying to make himself less bulky. When that proves impossible due to his size and muscles, he grabs me closer and ducks to settle his head on the soft part of my chest, grunting softly and then sighing.
I’m so surprised I don’t move.
Pete lifts one eyebrow as he watches Remington wrap his arms even tighter around my hips and draws me closer until the side of his head is perfectly cushioned on my breast. He grunts and sighs again. Riley lifts two eyebrows. Diane smiles tenderly, like she just melted.
I am not only melted. I’m liquid beneath him.
My parents, a coach and a teacher, are wonderful people but not big on hugs and kisses like, for example, my friend Melanie is, who was showered with affection and spreads it around the world like it’s her duty to. But the way Remington looks at me, the way he doesn’t hide his attraction to me even to his public during his fights, and the way he just cuddled me like a big hibernating bear who just found a cave, makes me ache in inexplicably deep places.
Quietly, and with all the tenderness in the world, I run my nails through his spiky dark hair, then trace one fingernail along his ear. He holds both arms securely around my waist, somehow trapping me to him like he’d trap a pillow.
You guys want a time out when we get to the hotel?” Pete asks us, and his timbre vibrates as if some deep emotion touched him.
I’ve never seen him so quiet when he’s manic.
Or sit so utterly still.
Pete and Riley’s stunned expressions completely confirm that they haven’t either.
When we hit the rooms, we receive our suitcases in our suite, and then I do what I always do. I unzip mine and set my small cosmetics bag hidden under the sink, to begin with.
Remy watches me from the door with such fierce longing, I stop brushing my teeth, my mouth full of foam when I notice his stare. He looks hungry. Feral. Almost desperate. I quickly rinse as he approaches and towel off my hands. He’s not smiling. His black eyes swallow me in their depths. He lifts me easily in his arms and carries me back to the room.
I can’t help the way my insides flutter as I cuddle into his neck and breathe him in while he lowers us to the bed. I think I know what he wants, but I’m not sure. So I wait and watch him for a moment.