Page 7

Remy

E xactly twenty-two minutes later, I pull into the subterranean parking area beneath Stone’s building, pulse thrumming in time with the rumble of the engine as I guide my car into the tandem spot behind his SUV. The Range Rover still idles in front of me, brake lights glowing like twin warnings.

Or invitations.

I can’t decide.

Either way, even as I cut the ignition, I know this isn’t smart.

The thought flickers through my head, weak and half-formed, as Stone walks toward me. His gaze locks on mine through the windshield, his blue eyes electric even in the dim light. He rakes a hand through hair already disheveled by my clutching orgasm fingers, grinning that reckless, let-me-show-you-a-good-time smile that’s been my undoing since day one.

And now?

Well, it’s way too late to turn back now…

I grab my purse and step out, the garage air cool against my flushed skin. Stone’s already at my side, his palm settling at the small of my back, making me burn all over again. “Took you forever,” he murmurs, his lips grazing my ear.

“You drive like a maniac,” I shoot back.

His laugh vibrates against my skin, low and knowing. “Admit it. You missed riding my ass once I blew through that last yellow light.”

“I’ve missed your ass, period,” I mutter, earning a sharp pinch to my own backside that makes me suck in an eager breath.

“Good. Because I’ve been dreaming about yours just about every night.” He pushes me back against my car, his body caging mine. The garage is empty, silent except for the drip of a distant pipe, but the risk of being seen still prickles along the back of my neck.

“First the rink, now a parking garage?” I murmur. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think we had a budding sex-in-public problem on our hands.”

“No, I just can’t keep my hands off you, beautiful.” His thumb brushes my bottom lip, smearing the gloss I applied at the last red light. “You look fucking edible right now, Bossy.”

“You said that last time I wore this lipstick.”

“And I mean it every time.” He lays claim to my mouth, all teeth and tongue and heat. I moan into him, fingers twisting in his shirt, dragging him closer. His cock presses hard against my stomach, and I rock forward, needing friction, needing him .

Even that mind-bending orgasm at the rink wasn’t enough to take the edge off. I’ve been jonesing for his dick for days, and I need him inside of me.

Now.

“Now. Upstairs,” I pant against his lips.

He breaks the kiss, his voice already ragged. “Yes. Now.”

We jog toward the elevator, his hand clamped around mine, laughter and desire thick in the air between us as we dash across the garage. The second the elevator doors slide open with a ding, he shoves me inside, slamming the button for his floor before pinning me against the mirrored wall.

His mouth finds my throat, his tongue teasing across my skin, while his hand finds its way down the front of my pants again.

“Stone—”

“Just let me feel how wet you are,” he whispers, fingers slipping into my panties, making my breath hitch. “Fuck, Bossy, you’re dripping. I can smell how turned on you are, Rem, and it’s driving me crazy.”

I arch into him with a gasp. “Stone, stop. There are cameras everywhere these days. They’re probably?—”

“Nope, no camera in this elevator. Not anymore.” He nips my collarbone as his fingers circle my clit. “It’s been broken for months. Everyone in the building’s pissed about it for some reason. But not me… Think you can get there before we reach my floor?”

“I don’t know.”

But I’ll try , I add silently.

I fist his shirt, riding his hand as the elevator climbs, my thighs shaking. He pulls back to watch me, his pupils blown, lips parted—a Viking undone by my pleasure. When I clench around him, crying out in the close air, he murmurs filthy praise as he brings his hand to his mouth, licking my come off his fingers with a moan.

“Bad man,” I pant.

“So bad,” he agrees as the doors ding open. He takes my hand again, smirking at my dazed expression. “Round one and two to me.”

“Cheater,” I say, as he tows me down the hall. “You didn’t even let me try.”

“But I will,” he promises, squeezing my fingers. “I’m so damned hard for you, Rem. Fair warning, I might not last long the first time.”

Before I can reply, I’m cut off by Barb’s manic barking, echoing down the hall long before Stone opens the door. As we step inside, a blur of rhinestones and elation rockets toward us, toenails clacking on the hardwood.

Stone gathers his tiny dog to his chest with one big hand, cooing as Barb licks his chin, literally trembling with happiness to have her daddy home. “Who’s the prettiest pup in Portland?” he asks. “Baby girl, you’re beautiful today. Show Remy your outfit.”

Barb yips as she squirms in his grip to face me, her sequined pink tutu quivering below her rhinestone-studded tank top.

I bite my lip and fight a smile, knowing Barb hates it when you laugh at her fashion. “Wow, Barbie girl,” I coo, doing my best to sound impressed. “Looking good today, sweets. Love the ballerina meets biker vibe.”

Barb grins, her small tongue lolling out as she graciously accepts the compliment, which she both expects and deserves.

“She’s in her punk phase, and I’m not sad about it,” Stone says, setting her down. “Don’t be jealous, but she also has a tiny black biker hat that she wears when we go out for walks.”

“Ugh, I’m so jealous.” I crouch down to scratch her ears. “That sounds fantastic, Barb. You’ll have to show me.” I cast a meaningful—and heated—glance up at Stone. “Later…”

“So much later,” he agrees, his voice rough again.

I stand, moving into his arms, but Barb lets out a sharp bark before trotting over to her food bowl by Stone’s massive TV.

She turns, shooting a bug-eyed look his way.

“She needs fancy hipster puppy supper. One sec.” He gives my ass a quick squeeze before jogging into the kitchen to grab the dog food from the fridge. He’s back in a flash, praising Barb for being such a sweet, patient girl as he fills her bowl.

I watch him, my chest going warm and soft. This is the problem with Stone—the way he loves his fussy, adorably bratty little dog, the joy he finds in simple, silly things. The way he looks at me, like I’m something rare and precious instead of just another tightly wound, overachieving former “gifted kid” on the verge of burnout.

I warn myself not to lean into the softness. I can’t afford to be soft.

Not now, not yet…

Not until I reach the finish line.

He fills Barb’s bowl, then straightens, catching my stare.

He crosses the room in two big steps, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Everything good?”

I nod, my throat dry as I lie, “Yeah. Just ready for you.”

His gaze searches mine for a beat before he whispers, “Me, too.” He kisses me slowly this time, sweetly, and my traitorous heart lurches.

We stumble across the open living room to the bedroom, hands everywhere, mouths fused. Stone kicks the door shut behind us, already ripping my sweatshirt over my head. He makes quick work of my sports bra, too, biting his lip as he bares my breasts.

“Yep, still gorgeous. Still fucking perfect,” he breathes, palming me in his hands. His thumbs brush my nipples, and I arch into him with a gasp.

“Less talking,” I demand, yanking his sweater over his head. My hands roam his chest, tracing the familiar planes of muscle, the scattered freckles I’ve memorized with my tongue.

He lets out an encouraging moan as he maneuvers us closer to the bed. The backs of my knees hit the mattress and I fall, pulling him with me. His weight settles between my thighs, perfect and heavy, as his mouth finds mine again.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, rolling his hips in a way that makes me see stars.

“You know what I want.”

“Say it anyway.” His teeth graze my jaw. “I love hearing you ask for it, Rem. Hearing you beg for me to fuck you, take you, please you…”

I drag my nails down his back, feeling him shudder. “I want your mouth on me. Then, I want you inside me. So deep inside me, I can’t—” I break off as his hand slides between us, cupping me through my leggings.

“How deep?” His voice is rough, hungry. “Tell me.”

“Every inch,” I breathe. “Every single one.”

He delivers another bruising kiss as he tears at our remaining clothes. When we’re finally skin to skin, his cock hard against my thigh, I wrap my legs around his hips and flip us over.

Stone lands on his back with a huff that turns into a swiftly indrawn breath as I take him in my hand. “Thought you wanted my mouth first.”

I stroke his pulsing length slowly, deliberately, savoring the way his abs clench and a vein in his neck begins to flutter. “Changed my mind,” I whisper. “I don’t think I can wait. I need you inside me.”

He growls, his fingers clamping tight around my waist as I shift forward until the head of his cock brushes against my entrance. I let him feel the heat, the slickness, the way I’m already so swollen and ready for him, but I don’t drop my hips.

Not yet…

I circle them, instead, holding his gaze as I tease every inch of his swollen tip with my pussy. Then I reverse direction, thanking my figure skating days for everything I know about isolating graceful, dancer-style muscles. Watching a red flush creep from Stone’s chest to his throat, all the way up to his cheeks, is all the encouragement I need to ensure that hip swivels remain a part of my cool-down at the gym for the foreseeable future.

“Fuck, Remy,” he bites out through clenched teeth. “Now who’s bad, woman?”

“I am,” I say without a beat of hesitation. “And you love it.”

“Yeah,” he says, the words as soft and sure as the look in his eyes. “I sure fucking do.”

Still holding his gaze, I sink slowly down, biting my lip as I take him deeper, my inner walls stretching to accommodate his girth. He curses, a low moan vibrating from his throat as I bottom out with his cock buried all the way to the base. The way he fills me is enough to make me keenly aware of every inch of him, but not enough to hurt.

In fact, it’s perfect.

Magic.

We stay like that for a long beat, our bodies flush and our blood rushing in time as we stare straight into each other’s hearts. And his heart is beautiful, as always, but even more open than it’s been before. Tonight, his guard is all the way down, his blue eyes shining with emotion that makes my throat go tight as the moment stretches on.

“Jesus, Remy.” He reaches up, cupping my face in one big hand. “Do you know how beautiful you are? Because you are. Every piece of you. Inside and out.”

A part of me wants to confess that I feel beautiful with him, that I feel grounded and strong in a whole new way. That I’m starting to think I might be capable of trying things I’ve never tried before. I might even become the kind of woman who stays instead of the kind who uses a burner phone to keep her hookups at a distance and never met a morning after she wouldn’t avoid by sneaking out in the middle of the night.

But my lips refuse to move.

Another part of me is too worried that if I try to say any of that, I might start bawling. And I don’t want to cry.

I want to come, to make him come, to watch him shatter beneath me and know I’m the one who made this big, beautiful man lose control.

Instead of responding with words, I rock my hips, easing his cock out a few inches before sheathing him again. A beat later, his lashes flutter shut, sending regret flashing through my chest.

I don’t want to lose this connection, not yet, even if I am too much of a coward to say the hard things out loud.

There’s no way I can tell him that I think I’m falling in love with him, but I can whisper, “Open your eyes, Stone.”

The moment those baby blues are locked on me again, I start to move.

I ride him with all the urgency building in my chest, in my heart, my hips grinding in a near-frantic rhythm that makes my thighs burn and my breath come fast. He meets me thrust for thrust, pounding hard and deep, before gripping my ass and dragging me forward. The shift in our angle sends my clit dragging across his stomach with every rock of our hips, making me gasp.

My pleasure builds faster, hotter, until I’m slamming home with breathless little grunts that are half feral, but Stone doesn’t care.

“That’s it,” he grits out, bucking into me, making sure I get every inch. “Give me everything, Rem. Take everything. Show me how bad you need it, baby.”

He punctuates the order with a sharp smack on my ass, and I go fully wild. Soon, the room is filled with the sound of slick skin, breathless moans, and the rapid creaking of the mattress as I ride him like I will never know anything better than this.

And who knows?

Maybe I won’t…

It’s so good, so shameless, so hot that I can barely hear Stone over the blood rushing in my ears as he groans, “Fuck, Rem. I’m so close. Fuck, I’m sorry, but I told you, I?—”

“Two seconds,” I breathe, leaning forward to brace my hands on the mattress on either side of his face. Now my nipples graze his skin, too, the friction lighting the final fuse. “Almost there, I’m almost there.”

“Then let’s make it happen, beautiful,” he says, the words tight but determined. “I’ll wait for you. Fuck, I’ll wait, Remy. I’ll wait. Wait ‘til I—” He breaks off as I cry out, my body shuddering as the most intense orgasm of my life rocks my damned world. “Fuck, Rem. Oh, fuck, I can feel you, baby,” he groans, crushing me close. “I feel you coming so hard on my cock.”

I whimper as my body spasms around him, every muscle tight and trembling as the pleasure winds on and on.

“God, yes,” Stone growls, his hand clamping around the back of my neck as he thrusts up harder, faster. “Gonna come. Gonna come with you, in you. So deep in you, Rem.”

“Yes,” I gasp, still riding the aftershocks. “Come inside me. Come with me, Stone.”

He lets out a primal groan, his hips jerking as he loses control and his cock begins to pulse against my inner walls. I feel his come flooding into me, hot and thick, as he pulls me even closer, pinning my hips to his as he gives me every drop.

And it’s wicked and wonderful and so right, I can’t believe I ever thought I could walk away from this. From him.

From us…

Afterward, we lie sweat slick and panting, my head heavy on his shoulder.

For a long moment, neither of us speaks. We just breathe, basking in heat and pleasure and something much more profound than the usual afterglow.

Eventually, he strokes a hand down my spine. “Still alive up there?”

“Barely,” I mumble, my lips brushing his collarbone. “You ruined me, as promised.”

“Good.” His laugh is warm, satisfied. “I like to deliver on my promises.”

I shift, and he groans as I slide off of him, both of us wincing at the mess. I reach for the edge of the blanket to wipe up, but he beats me to it, grabbing a shirt off the floor and doing it himself with slow, tender strokes.

After a beat, I catch a glimpse of the busty Bushtit on the fabric and swat his arm. “Hey, that’s my shirt, mister.”

“Oh, no.” His jaw drops in mock horror before he shrugs. “Guess you’ll just have to borrow a clean one and walk around looking all sexy with my tee shirt barely covering your fine ass.” He flashes a shameless grin. “Oops.”

“Jerk,” I tease as he flops down beside me again.

“Yeah, but I made you come really hard, so I’m forgiven.”

“You sure did.” I sigh and curl against his side. His fingers tangle in my hair, rubbing slow circles into my scalp. And for once, I don’t fight the comfort of his touch, his affection.

I let myself relax into his body, into the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek. I’m actually halfway to a little cat nap by the time he says, “My tongue is missing your pussy, though.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Next time, I want to taste you before I fuck you.”

I hum, my eyes still closed. “Planning the next time, already?”

He shifts on top of me again, kissing a slow path down my neck, lazy but promising.

I crack a lid, deciding maybe naptime can wait.

“Oh, Bossy,” he murmurs as he kisses my breast, just above where my nipple is pulling tight again. “I’m planning on a lot of next times. Stay the night?”

My heart clenches. This is the dangerous part.

Not the sex or the secrecy, but these intimate moments. The sleeping over, the breakfasts the next morning, the way it feels so right to bust his balls for taking longer to do his hair than I do mine.

The way we just…fit, like I’ve never fit with anyone else.

And tonight is more dangerous than any night that’s come before. If I stay, if we go for round two or maybe even three, will I be able to keep all the mooshy things I’m not ready to say under wraps? Or will I tell him I’m in love with him while he’s buried in my pussy and escalate our “complication” status to a whole new level?

“Please,” he adds after a beat, his tongue flicking across my nipple, summoning a gasp from low in my throat. “I need someone to help me eat my leftover lasagna before it goes bad. And then I need this pussy again, from behind, while you claw at the sheets.”

I should go. I really should.

But I think I’m already too far gone.

“First from behind,” I whisper. “Then lasagna, then shower, then maybe we’ll do some tasting before bed. But no tasting right now. I’m too messy down there.”

“You’re never too messy down there,” he scoffs, and then he proves it.

And somehow, I manage to keep my secret under wraps as I come, then come again, before padding into the kitchen to pet Barb while Stone heats up lasagna. But it isn’t easy, which means it’s time to do some serious thinking about where we go from here.

But not tonight.

Tonight, I’m too exhausted from orgasms to do anything but stagger straight to bed after our shower and collapse.

The moment Stone drops Barb on the mattress at our feet and curls around me, I’m out, falling into a deep, peaceful sleep as he kisses my neck and promises to make pancakes tomorrow.