Page 10

R EMINGTON HESITATES outside my apartment complex. We couldn’t bear to part after our heavy discussion, so Remington took the bus with me to walk me home. We’re still gripping each other’s hands tight, neither of us making any moves to let go on the rusty red brick porch.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Remington’s Adam’s Apple bobs with his swallow. When he speaks, his low voice rumbles even deeper than usual. “No.”

I tense, ready to burst into panic. Is he having second thoughts? Remington meets my petrified eyes.

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Sorry, not in a bad way. I mean—”

Remington shakes his head, but I step closer. I’m so concerned for him that my heart thumps into my ears.

But he lifts his worried eyes. “I just mean I don’t want to have to say goodbye yet. I really like spending time with you.”

I’m surprised even Remington seems shy about asking to spend more time with me. Maybe coming home with a date isn’t normal for him after what happened with his ex.

And I’ve helped Remington feel safe enough to change that for him. My elation spills over so fast that before I can stop myself, I dash into his chest for a hug. A puff of air escapes his nose with my impact, but it’s followed by a deep chuckle.

Remington’s warm hand settles behind my head as he wraps my upper torso in a satiating embrace. I snuggle in, taking a step closer. Remington does the same, settling me softly against the brick wall behind me.

But the longer we cuddle against the wall with our thighs snug, what I find bumping my belly startles my breath out of me. Remington freezes. But when I don’t move away, instead leaning in a little closer to tease his forming erection, Remington’s fingers on my head slowly weave into my hair. My eyes flutter shut as he gives my scalp a soothing rub. I hum, and his shaft flexes against me in response.

My heartbeat rages faster. I’m not sure how long Remington has been staving off arousal, but just the feeling of his warm, firm shaft through our clothes ignites a fire between my legs.

I pull back, desperate to stare into his brooding, black eyes beneath my apartment porch’s crappy lighting. His tattoos sneak through the shadows, sprawling over his neck to guide me to those plump, parted lips. I can’t stare at them for too long, my feet shuffling in a yearning to press my hips a little deeper into Remington. But I’m afraid if I give in, we won’t be able to contain ourselves, and someone in my building will walk up and catch us.

But I’ve stared at Remington’s lips for far too long. His fingertips drag over my pulsing jugular before settling against my cheek. My eyes zip to his, and I realize he’s been beaming down at me this whole time. He’s not smiling with his lips, but his eyes - slanting like they’re toying with me. There’s a sultry, crouching fire behind his irises - a black panther ready to pounce.

I part my lips to match his. But I’ve never been this nervous to kiss anyone in my life. It might be just a kiss, but with the reality-shattering emotions I feel around him, I know it’s more. An anchor hooks my heart, dragging me closer to binding myself to Remington. And I know it’s already too late; I dove so deep that a part of me will feel deeply for him for life.

A sour, realistic voice inside me warns this could be another one of those moments: a man taking me inside, having a little fun, getting bored of me, and leaving me alone in the morning.

But with how cherished I feel in Remington’s arms, I want to feel every second of this moment with him. Even if it’s just for tonight.

The tips of our noses make the lightest contact, brushing over each other in a gentle, tickling dance. Remington’s eyes lose their tension, and my belly somersaults.

He’s waiting for me to kiss him first.

I grip fistfuls of his leather jacket, but he still doesn’t move. My thighs rub together, teasing Remington in the process, and Remington releases a low, humming exhale.

“Lilibeth, if you’re too uncomfortable—”

“C-can I—” I suck in a breath as his shaft prods me again. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he purrs.

Wobbling on my toes, I take Remington’s cheeks in my palms. He holds me steady, hugging my waist flush to his by my sides - still avoiding my lower back. But he doesn’t make the first move, allowing me to take my time. Which is nice, since I’m still too terrified to kiss him. My breath pulses over his lips, and my anxiety skyrockets past the top floor of my apartment building.

But as my eyes flit between his, the affection I find staring back spurs me into action. I ease one of his hands behind me, allowing his hot palm to caress my sensitive mark.

“I-I changed my mind. I like it, when I’m not overwhelmed,” I whisper.

Fire burns behind his eyes. Remington swallows hard before rumbling, “Thank you for telling me, baby girl.”

I can hardly resist indulging in the soothing buzzing his voice creates in my lower belly, but when he sends a flurry of tingles through me with his soft, sweeping touch on my lower back, my forced calm snaps. Gasping against his lips, I arch my back into his hand. I want him to keep touching my mark. He’s the only one I’ve felt safe enough with to allow it, but he's also the only one to be so lovingly gentle with my body to help me feel safe enough in the first place. It makes even the slightest brush of his fingertips feel like he’s pleasuring my deepest nerves.

And tonight, every corner of my body and mind begs me to kiss him. With a galloping heart, I press my lips into his - just a light peck at first. But Remington hooks one arm tighter around my back, pulling me in. I suck in a hitching, frenzied breath as the full weight of those lips settles over mine, shooting fireworks of buzzing, tingling bliss down my spine. I grip his cheeks tighter, pulling him closer. I want more.

And Remington certainly gives me more. He releases my cheek to cup the back of my head, just in time to protect it as he smushes me against the brick wall. My eager hips buck on instinct, and it’s only with his rumbling, pleased groan that I realize that he’s bending his knees to stoop low enough for me - placing his hot shaft in the perfect position to nudge my clit.

Running out of air, I break our kiss with a sharp inhale. But I don’t budge an inch. Remington’s breath beats against my lips as he stares into my eyes, our foreheads pressed together.

“You’re so brave,” he whispers.

Hot, whirling tingles shred through me, flexing my core. Oh, my God. His praise really does something to me.

I grip Remington’s jacket collar, the studs icing my hot fingers. I struggle to speak between flustered breaths. “Rem, I— We’re outside, but— But I like this too much to want to stop.”

He nudges my nose with his, pressing his chest against my breasts until my shoulder blades meet the wall. Wait, is he squishing me because he remembers I like compression? That thought is so sweet that I can’t help myself, smashing my lips against his. This time, our searing breaths meet as we open our lips. We kiss heavier and heavier until our tongues touch, flickering further over each other with each successive, deep kiss. His shaft nudges me again, and I inhale hard through my nose; I'm so damn sensitive to this man that my core can’t stop flexing in response to him - especially as he draws gentle circles over my lower back, tantalizing my nerves from every angle.

Remington breaks our kiss with a heavy exhale. “You still okay, Lilibeth?”

I nod furiously, still catching my breath.

He softens his voice, but it rumbles through my chest, vibrating to my lower belly. “Do you feel good?”

Slipping my hands into his open jacket, I grip the back of his soft T-shirt. “Y-yes.”

“Good. You look and sound like you feel good, but I want to make sure. Do you want more? Even though we’re outside?”

My heartbeat pounds into my ears. I check over Remington’s shoulder, but the late-night streets are just as empty.

“Y-yes,” I whisper.

“Do you like the thought that we might get caught?”

I clench the back of his shirt in my fists so tightly that my nails press into my palms. “F-for some reason, yes.”

Our eyes meet just as Remington’s curious stare hardens into a sharp, desirous focus. Tilting his head, Remington covers every inch of my lips in such a delicious massage that my heart squeezes tight. Gripping his shirt harder, I hug him closer. We mush together in a hot, full-body kiss.

Remington hums through his exhale. When he speaks, his voice sounds just as airy as mine. “Good girl.”

He covers my lips just in time to stun me silent. Bending his knees and arching my back, Remington grinds his shaft over my clit. My lungs restart at how warm he feels. But as he gives me another soft, slow hump, my thighs jolt with pleasure. My breath hitches again, but this time, it’s accompanied by a tiny, exhaled moan. As my knees widen, my grip releases Remington’s shirt, leaving it crumpled. I cling to his taut back muscles just as hard, urging his waist closer.

“You feel really good, don’t you?” Remington whispers, and I whimper against his lips. He kisses me, giving me a heavier rub between my legs. I shudder a heaving breath into his mouth, lifting my hips to meet him. I can’t believe how close he’s made me, but heat floods my chest, heightening the expanding pleasure in my core. As he settles his palm over my sensitive mark with deeper pressure, I’m seconds away from coming.

But Remington stops. “I don’t know what your noises mean yet, sweet girl. I’m not moving until you’re clear with your words about what you want.”

I grip his hips, struggling not to slink down the wall from how good it feels to press against his body. “Y-you have a big, big green light.”

Remington’s chuckle against my lips sends sparks down my chest. “Fuck, what a good girl. Thank you.”

I whimper into his mouth as we crash into another heavy kiss. As my thighs pulse open, Remington’s hands slide lower, spreading warmth down my back until his palms cup my ass. He squeezes me tight, rubbing against me slower and deeper but keeping his pace consistent. I gasp, diving for his chest in a tight hug.

“Remington–” I huff into his sternum. If he keeps going, I’m going to come in his arms, right outside my apartment complex door.

Tucking his chin, Remington presses a kiss against my temple. “I’ve got you.”

My breath turns choppy, each sharp, vacuuming inhale punctuated by a tight hold of my diaphragm as warmth balloons between my legs. Remington hums against my cheek, his deep voice buzzing through my chest, and I let out a soft, genuine moan.

He sucks in a surprised breath, but he rocks a little faster. “You good, sweet girl?”

“Rem–” I gasp, dragging my forehead over his collarbone. “You’re–”

Massaging my lower back, Remington teases tingling pleasure into my core from every angle. When I let out another pleading moan, he hastens his slow rocking until my legs quiver at his sides. “I’m, what?”

I drop my head back until we’re nose to nose, my chin tipped to gaze straight into his eyes. “You’re about to make me– Even though we’re outside– I’m–”

“Fuck, you’re so brave. This is hotter than anything I imagined with you, and we’re just–”

Remington’s sharp breath cuts him off as I gasp, open-mouthed against his lips. Each breath is followed by a moan as pleasure rises in my belly, expanding beyond my control. Gripping the back of my thigh with one wide palm, Remington lifts my leg just enough to rub his shaft directly against my clothed labia. I’m so wet that the heat of his shaft spreads through my soaked jeans, sending me over the edge. I let out a soft cry against his lips, my knee slamming shut against his hip as I squirm through an eye-fluttering orgasm. Remington’s grip keeps me smushed against him and on my feet as he rubs every last drop of pleasure from me.

I’m left shaking from excitement and nerves, letting out soft whimpers as I slump against Remington’s chest. Stroking my bangs off my forehead, Remington kisses my clammy skin over and over.

“ Good ,” he breathes. “You did so well, baby. God, I’m so amazed by you.”

His words raise my shoulders through the giddy, fluttering aches he creates in my chest. I’m so delighted that I’m weak, hardly helping Remington to keep me upright. But he keeps my back safely pressed against the wall, humming soft, reassuring noises over me between gentle kisses on my cheek. He’s harder than ever, still prodding between my legs. I jerk with leftover pleasure each time his shaft taps me, too breathless to know what to do about it yet.

But the thud of nearby sneakers on the sidewalk sends me flying from Remington’s arms. I sloppily jerk my wallet against the complex’s lock system. The half-second it takes to open seems to take forever. Snatching Remington’s hand, I thrust the door open the instant a whirring, metal buzz and a sharp beep tell me the door has successfully unlocked.

Remington’s boots clod after my sloppy footsteps, bolting up one flight of stairs to my apartment door. I crash against it, hardly able to breathe.

But as Remington comes to a chuckling stop behind me, I turn to him with a gasp.

“S-sorry! I– I kidnapped you. Do you actually want to come in?”

His grin softens into that genuine smile of his - the one that crinkles the corner of his eyes. “I was hoping I’d get to be extra cozy with you tonight. But especially now, after...”

He zips those black irises over my overheated body. I bite my lip through the powerful, residual ache his playful eyes spark in my groin.

I’m also buzzing with nerves. Is Remington talking about letting me experience proper aftercare for the first time?

Wait, no, that’s ridiculous. A quick dry hump must seem like child’s play to Remington - not worthy of full aftercare. Especially because I’ve left him unsatisfied. My eyebrows draw together, and Remington’s smile fades.

It hurts my heart. “S-sorry, I’m a little worried I didn’t do the right thing.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll let you in first, sorry.”

He rubs my back, tickling my cheek with his breath as I sloppily push my keys into the door. “You don’t have to keep apologizing to me, baby girl. I’m right here with you.”

My belly flutters. But when I open the front door, we’re greeted by a little mew .

Flipping on the light, I giggle at Celeste’s swanky walk to greet us. “Hello, baby.”

I get to work dropping my bag and unzipping my boots, but Remington gasps behind me.

“Baby girl number two!?” He whispers.

I turn around to find him crouched as low as he can, his fingers outstretched for Celeste to sniff. To my surprise, she has no fears about rubbing her cheek over his knuckles, allowing those gentle, inked hands to stroke her black fur.

He hums. “Hi, pretty girl. You look just like your mommy.”

My heart nearly explodes. I watch them from a distance, my sweet cat nuzzling my favorite person, and I’m startled by how well Remington fits into my life. My messy apartment with black, purple, and red decor envelops him like he’s the one who lives here. It’s not until he glances at me with a gentle smile that I realize how beautiful this moment feels for me: loving who I’ve brought home.

Oh, God. I love him.

“That’s Celeste,” I whisper.

“How cute. Almost as cute as you.” He carefully slips off his boots, giving Celeste another reassuring stroke. She toddles after him as he rises to meet me. “Celeste - like Celeste? A little heaven-sent, celestial beauty?” He pronounces her name how I would in Italian, widening my eyes.

“Yes. Do you speak Italian?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Not with anyone but my unhinged family, so mainly only a few vulgar words that stuck in my head.”

I laugh. “Same here. Just from my mom’s side - and angry co-workers.”

“So baby girl number two is heavenly, like you.” Remington grins.

I laugh. Grabbing his outstretched hand, I don’t know what else to say; I can’t grasp my bearings. I’ve never been so nervous and excited yet deeply soothed to have a man over.

I guide him to my dark room, flicking on only my pink salt lamp to give the room a radiating, moody glow. But, of course, this reveals the giant mess of clothes I forgot I left on my bed.

Remington chuckles through a groan. “Oh, what a sweetheart. You worked so hard to look nice, only for me to be a dick about it.”

Before I can brush off his concerns, he bends to collect my shirts, skirts, and pants.

“Ah, it’s okay! I-I’ve got it.” I rush to his side, placing my hands over the pile in his arms.

But Remington’s beaming smile stops me. “I really meant it; I want to take care of you after you worked so hard to please me. Relax on the bed for me, okay, baby?”

God, I think he is considering what we did downstairs as enough to constitute aftercare. I want to experience it with him, but I hesitate at my bedside, my fingers fidgeting with my jacket zipper. Is it okay to continue to let him neatly gather my clothes? To let him do a favor for me after I was the only one who climaxed? He places a stack of clothes on my empty chair in the corner, unaware of my racing heart until he turns to find me still standing.

Remington freezes. “Oh, baby. What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t please you... fully.”

He catches me eyeing his remaining erection and grins. “Ah. You don’t have to get me off to please me. Honestly, I forgot to tell you I have a kink about forcing myself to wait to get off until I can’t stand it, for one. And, second, I would take care of that myself, not make you do it - unless we happened to be in the mood together. But, third, I really did get spoiled. I told you the affection I like most is watching you unravel.”

Shuffling in place, I burn hot. Truthfully, I want to unravel more. Especially if it means I get to watch Remington unravel on top of me too.

But his eyes widen. “That’s right– What did you mean outside your door? You were worried you didn’t do the right thing, as in when we were making out downstairs, or something else?”

“Y-yes, I– It was that, and leaving you frustrated. I haven’t seen men have a lot of patience before. I normally just lay down for them, and they come in me and leave. I don’t know if I’m good at this stuff compared to you.”

Rapid emotions flicker across Remington’s face. But when he settles on an intense frown, my chest burns with anxiety. “Are you telling me a guy’s never made you orgasm before?”

I bite my lip, dropping my head. Fidgeting with the skin on the back of my knuckles, I lower my voice. “I-I don’t know, not on purpose, I don’t think. I get so nervous that it feels impossible. One time, a guy got me close, but it was taking a while, so I just pretended it happened so we could stop because he looked really bored and frustrated with me.”

Remington’s jaw tightens. “So, do you get nervous, or is it actually that no one took the time for you to feel safe enough with them?”

My heart flips. I never thought of it that way.

He sighs, gripping his forehead. “God, that hurt my heart. Before we get to anything too intense, I think you need some good vanilla sex, L.L.B. You’re capable of feeling pleasure, and you deserve it.”

I drop my head, willing away fresh tears. But Remington strides around the bed, hurriedly enveloping me in his embrace. I nuzzle into his chest, hiding my face.

Remington kisses the top of my head. “Come here, baby. Let’s lay down and cuddle for a while.”

That sounds amazing, so I hurriedly pull away, crawling onto my bed. Remington chuckles behind me. His weight pressing into the mattress beside me for the first time flips my heart. He helps me remove my stifling jacket, stripping his right after. My heartbeat pulses into my throat, unsure how much more we’ll see of each other.

But Remington lays down in his T-shirt and pants, opening his arms wide. The second I return to his embrace, every ounce of anxiety melts away, aided by his gentle touch sweeping my bare upper back.

“Does that feel good?” He whispers.

I nod, my eyelids drooping.

“Close your eyes. I’ll give you a little massage.”

The second he runs gentle pressure between my shoulder blades, I can’t keep my eyes open. Giving Remington a soft hum, I’m delighted by the sound of his warm breath; I can hear the breezy smile in it.

But after Remington melts me into my mattress, I open my eyes with a gasp. “Can I trace your tattoos again?”

“You look so sleepy, baby girl. It’s okay for you to enjoy yourself.”

“I am, with you. But do you not want me to take care of you ever too? It matters to me that you also feel good and safe.”

He grows quiet. “Sorry. I might just want to cuddle together for a while then.”

Settling into him, I bite my lip. “Sorry if I said that meanly.”

“No, you were sweet. I just need to absorb what you said. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard something like that from anyone other than my best friends.”

The thought of Remington not receiving enough love kills me. I gaze at him, breathing through the raw ache in my heart. “I want you to hear it.”

He’s silent for a while again. When he speaks, his whisper is quieter than ever. “Thank you.”

I decide to trace his smoky, spiraling neck tattoos on my own. As my fingertips roam over each flickering stripe of ink, Remington’s blinks deepen.

But our eyes remain on each other. Our rhythmic breaths link in perfect time, creating a quiet, peaceful softness between each inhale and exhale. A coziness unlike anything I’ve ever experienced settles in my heart; it might be the first time I’ve truly felt everything is okay in my world.

Soon enough, Remington copies me by tracing my features. He skates around my eyebrows, down my nose, and over my sensitive lips, leaving behind tingles that make me shudder. Breaking into a smile, Remington hums.

“I don’t want to sleep,” he whispers.

I smile, huddling in closer. “Me neither. I just want to lay here all night, living in the moment with you.”

Remington traces a soft line down my cheek, following my jaw. His fingertips land on my pulse, and he silences his breath. I let him feel my fluctuating heartbeat, jumping whenever we meet eyes. After a comfortable silence, he scoots closer to plant a relaxed, plush kiss on my lips. I breathe in his body heat, holding his torso flush against mine as I kiss him back, but nothing about this moment feels overtly sexual. We settle in, nose-to-nose, and I couldn’t be happier.

“What’s happening right now?” Remington whispers. “Is it just me?”

“No, it’s something, for sure, but I don’t know what.”

He huffs out a soft laugh. “Me neither. But I love it.”

“I’m so glad,” I whisper.

Brushing light touches down his face, I smile as Remington closes his eyes. I decide to whisper something new. Something I’d never say, but Remington always does.

“D-do you... feel good?”

His dark eyes flicker back open. Whatever he sees on my nervous face melts him into a sedated grin. “ Very good. I’m loving this moment with you.”

“Me too. I’m here too, Rem. Let yourself sleep.”

His hum comes out as a drowsy purr, stirring every nurturing nerve in my heart. As Remington’s eyes droop shut beneath my gentle brushing down his arms, my heart aches. I don’t want this to be another short fling. I don’t want him to disappear, ever, even if he doesn’t feel the same about me. I thought I knew what love was in high school with my first boyfriend, but I never had someone listen to me like Remington. Witness me like him. Understand me like him. Or misunderstand and try his hardest to better understand me like him. And I’ve never felt such a deep longing to do the same.

I might actually be in love with him.

No, I’m sure of it. The longer I hold Remington’s limp body, the more I cherish his innocent, sleeping breath. I want to hear it as long as he’ll let me.

I want to be his rescuer too.