Riley breaks at a stoplight, then seeks my eyes in the rearview mirror again, his lips pursing as he nods. “I get it, B.”
I feel instantly vulnerable and revealed, and squirm in my seat. “Please don’t tell him. Not just about tonight’s debacle. About the other part.”
He nods in silence, and once we’re all walking to our room, I add, “Riley, thank you for taking us.” He nods, and when he walks off, ignoring Melanie, she shoots tons of invisible knives in his direction with her eyes.
“That guy gets on my nerves.”
“I think you get on his too.”
“You do?” She scowls at me, then her eyes widen in pure disbelief. “You mean he doesn’t like me?”
Groaning at her obtuseness, I push her in his direction. “Mel, just go do him.”
“I don’t even like him,” she argues, but I’ve already swung around to board the elevator up to the P, and I slip my key to our room with a wild anticipation to see him.
He sits at the desk, with his laptop open and with his music on his ears. He lifts his head when I approach, and when his boldly handsome face with those heartbreaking eyes looks at me, my insides shudder uncontrollably.
His spiky black hair gleams in the soft hotel room lighting, and in those comfortable sweatpants and tight t-shirt, he exudes pure raw masculinity. The sight of his full mouth opens up a ravenous hunger inside me and I just hurt with the physical pain of wanting that mouth on me. His arms on me. His voice, telling me it’s all going to be all right. Because every second that passes by, I loathe myself more and more for what I did.
But Remy has protected me from his fans, and I would protect him from this too. From anything. Especially from Scorpion. I will protect him so that the only time Remy has to face him will be on that ring, where I will gladly watch him make that bastard wish he were dead.
Close to exploding with all my emotions, I jump on his lap, then take off his earphones and slip them briefly over my head so I can listen to what he was hearing. A crazy wild rock song bashes into my ears and I frown in confusion.
He watches me with darkened blue eyes that go half-mast as he leans to kiss my nose, cradling my jaw as his thumb runs sensually across my mouth. My stomach cramps, and I fear that Remy can actually see the fear and self-loathing that I am tramping down inside me.
Dropping his headphones onto the desk, I ease to my feet and hurry to the bathroom, feeling so violated I wash my teeth and add Scope until my mouth feels swollen. I barely take a step out of the bath when I suddenly need to return and thoroughly do it all again. For the awful sensation across my skin, I swear I could have a live scorpion crawling up my cheek, and the sensation is eating at me.
Finally I come back out. My mouth is minty fresh and even my lips feel numb with cleanness.
Remy has set his headphones aside. His full attention is on me, his dark eyebrows furrow as he tracks my return. He seems confused and slightly distrustful.
The sight of him makes me emotional, and I’m afraid I’m going to break down at any second. I hate that I feel like I don't deserve him anymore, even when all I wanted was to keep him safe and uninvolved.
I've never wanted to take care of someone in my life like I want to love and take care of him.
A painful lump builds inside my throat.
“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 desperately want my special place in his arms, the place I fit in like nowhere else. He makes the perfect nook for me, engulfing me like a nest and warmer than anything. I want it so bad, my heart aches in my chest.
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.
He gathers me close and holds me snug to his chest as he lowers his lips to mine. Our mouths graze softly, then connect, and he opens up with a soft breath that claims my mouth, his tongue sending shivers of desire racing through me.
His fingers outline the curves of my br**sts 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.
He engulfs me in a big hug and strokes my back, then holds my face as he whispers, “I missed you, too,” setting a kiss on my lips, then on the tip of my nose, my forehead.
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.