Mine (Real, #2)(8)
Mel! I straighten to use both hands to text back: I miss you too! So very much, Mel! But I’m so happy! I’m so f*cking happy it’s not funny! Or maybe it is! See? I sound drunk! Hahaha
MELANIE: I want a Remy.
MELANIE: And a Brooke! Waaah!
BROOKE: Now that the season’s started I’ll plan a good place for you to come visit! It’s on me! Nora can come too.
MELANIE: But will you still be keeping your place in Seattle?
For a moment, I frown at the question, because when I dropped my life and decided to follow my sex god to the ends of the earth while he kicked up his training regimen and got ready for this season, my rent hadn’t really crossed my mind.
I text Melanie back: I’m really committed to him, Mel, so I will probably not renew my lease when it expires. My home is here now. I’m taking off, but I will text you later. I love you, Melly!!!!!
MELANIE: DITTO!
I turn off my phone and tuck it into my bag. And when I lift my head, my sex clenches when I see Remy holding his sleek silver iPod. Thud. This man seriously knows how to seduce me with music. I watch as his thumb scrolls through the selections, and the slow, sensual manner in which it circles causes a flood of moisture between my thighs.
He looks up at me with a devilish smile, then he reaches out and sets his headphones over my head, and I’m terribly excited when he clicks PLAY. The song starts, and penetrating, curious blue eyes stay on me, watching my reaction.
Which is melting in my seat.
And feeling my soul shudder inside me.
Because the song he chose has completely made me stop breathing.
He presses his forehead to mine as he watches me listen, and I’m so moved by this song, my hands tremble as I exchange his headphones for my earbuds and place one in my ear, and one in his, so that we both listen together.
Pressing our foreheads back together, I watch his expression as intently as he watches mine . . . and we both listen to this amazing song. Not just any song. His song.
Iris . . .
By the Goo Goo Dolls.
His gaze darkens with the same emotions burning inside me, and then he cups one side of my face in his hand. My body tightens in anticipation as he moves closer. I feel his breath bathe my face as he slowly eliminates the distance between our mouths. By the time he brushes my lips with his, I’ve already parted them and let my eyes drift shut. He brushes once, twice. Softly. Lazily. A sound escapes me, like a moan demanding he kiss me harder, but instead of hearing that, I hear this:
When everything’s meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
God, I can’t listen to this song without feeling eaten on the inside. I need to get as close as possible to him. As close as I can get. Head to toe, I crave him, every bit of me craves every bit of him. I tip my face up and press my lips lightly to his, eagerly sliding my fingers into his hair. Remy, oh god, kiss me harder.
He makes me wait a little more as he uses his hand to turn my head at an angle, and then, then, his lips finally lock over mine, his tongue tracing through the seam of my mouth until I open wider and gasp, electrified, when our tongues brush. I don’t hear his groan, but I feel it vibrate through his chest against my breasts, and I shudder as I touch my tongue to his and relax my mouth under the command of his. Because there’s no one I trust more, no one I drop all my walls with in the way they came tumbling down with this man. Stroking one hand up the side of my body, he sucks gently on my lower lip, and I feel the swelling heat between my legs. The hitching of my breath. The hardening of my nipples. The pulling sensation along my skin.
I didn’t even know how much I needed this kiss until right now, when all my body buzzes under his mouth, and I move my lips and use my tongue to coax his tongue back in me.
I don’t even know if Pete or Riley or anyone is watching; Iris is playing in our ears and our mouths are wet and hungry. He eases his fingers under my top as he sucks, suckles, probes, tastes. It seems impossible, but every quaking inch of my body feels pleasure merely from what his mouth does to mine.
I moan in need and bite him, and he loses a little control.
He unsnaps my seat belt and leans me over until I’m spread all over the backseat.
The music stops and another song starts, but he makes a frustrated noise when the cords get tangled between us, and he jerks our earbuds off and tosses them aside. Then he runs his eyes over my body. Suddenly, I’m no longer listening to anything except the pounding of my heart as he lowers his head again.
“Fuck, I want you,” he says, then I hear the slick sound of his mouth meeting mine once more. Heat blazes through my bloodstream as he takes over my mouth again. Tongues rubbing. Hands fondling. Breaths mixing.
Between my thighs, I’m getting so swollen, I squirm restlessly under his weight and move my mouth faster and more anxiously under his. I feel the bumps of his eight-pack under his T-shirt, and my nerves ignite as he slides the tips of his long, strong fingers under my top again.
He’s killing me. I wanted this kiss—but now I want more. Every pore, atom, and cell heats up to supernova. Our mouths move so right together, I feel alive, expanded, loved. I love, I want, I need . . . him. So freaking much. I don’t think he will ever truly know . . . how ashamed I feel for leaving . . . how I ache for the way he hurt for me . . . how determined I am to stay with him . . . how much I really love him. . . .
His thumbs find my nipples through my bra and they feel so sensitive, the merest stroke arrows a bolt of pleasure to my toes.