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“Hey, Tristan! Guess who's coming to live with you?” “She's WHAT?” I hear Tristan yelp from downstairs. I wince as I follow behind Jax. This is going to be a long few weeks.
But the laughter dies in my throat when I feel him press his lips against my ear. “Sweetheart, I’ve never asked you,” he whispers condescendingly. “I hate to burst your bubble, but you always just assumed.”
Ladies, don't ever let a man tell you that size is more important than shape.
Tristan right behind him, when Tristan turns around to wink at me. “Goodnight, Remy baby.”
We’re not breathing from physical exertion; we’re gasping from the growing heat. “Beg me for it and I’ll prove it to you,”
“I wanna fuck you” charge or an “I’m minutes away from killing you”
“The difference is, I know for a fact that you like me being this close to you—that you’re actually soaked right now,” he purrs.
“I think you’re going to change your mind,” he whispers. “And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop thinking about it until you do.”
“Goodnight, Remy,” he says smoothly. Then he walks up the stairs, leaving me in a puddle on the floor.
“To being willing to gut anyone that fucks with the people we care about.”
Clinking his glass to mine, he whispers, “Do your worst, Remy baby.”
“Order another round. I'm going to use the bathroom and then maybe you can do me.” I grin when his eyes go even wider. “Make assumptions about me, I mean.”
As if reading my mind, his hand shoots up to grip the front of my throat and push my head back against the wall. I moan in pleasure. He grins at my response and kisses me again.
“You might regret what you just started,” he growls against my lips. “Hate sex can be intense. And with the way you and I feel about each other, I might actually kill you with pleasure.”
“You'll notice when you look in the mirror that my description of what you look like when you've been properly fucked is 100% accurate.”
“I hope this solidified it in your brain that this isn't stopping anytime soon,” he growls against my lips. My eyes go wide but I don't say anything. “I'm serious,” he growls, nipping my lower lip. “Stop running from me.”
“You are the sexiest little thing when you come,” he growls against my mouth.
“You would be way too hot with a full sleeve. Women would spontaneously combust around you.”
“No one can drive you as crazy as I can when my tongue is in your pussy,” I continue. “No one can make you come as hard as when I bend you over and take you from behind. No one.” A whimper escapes her lips.
But the gentle moment is only that, a moment, because then I grip her hair roughly and yank her head back. She whimpers but turns her face up toward me, and I can hear her breathy little sighs as she tries to cover up how turned on she is. “You're mine,” I growl against her lips. “Your pleasure belongs to me.”
“You're so fucking beautiful,” he says quietly.
“Why does it feel so different with you?”
His hand drifts up to caress my cheek. “Don’t ever hide from me,” he whispers simply.
“Whatever it is, it'll work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out yet, then it's not the end.”
“Although, if that's the one you've got your eye on then I can't exactly blame you. Jaxon doesn't hold a candle to him.”
I feel like I’m unwrapping my Christmas present and I want to draw this out as much as I can.
And if I counted correctly, I think it took us 5 rounds of sex to fall in love.”
“I got a fight in the UFC,” I whisper finally. “I… I made it. It's finally happening.” Remy chokes on a sob at my words.
“Remy baby, holy shit! I'm in the UFC!” I thump on the cushions, making Remy bounce into the air with uncontrollable giggles.
“How could anyone possibly be ashamed of spending the entire night inside your sweet little body?” he whispers against my mouth, leaning forward to bite my lower lip.
“HOLY SHIT, DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!” Jax explodes. He shoots upright as he stares at Tristan in disbelief. “Jimmy got you a fight in the UFC?!” He jumps up and shoves his friend, but Tristan just continues to grin. Jax makes a move to shove him again—clearly being unable to handle news of this size without any kind of physical outlet—but then he stops and frowns. “If you're fucking with me, man, I swear to God…”
