The sudden, vivid image of his body entwined with someone else’s makes me want to rush to the toilet again and throw up. I’m a little drunk, or maybe already hung over. I don’t know. But my heart hurts and my stomach roils at the mere thought of anyone else touching him. And suddenly I
do
need to cover my mouth and rush to the toilet again for real.
They’re so beautiful, I realize with horror I may be the kind of drunk who starts yelling at people and then crying, because I feel like doing both. I’m so furious I charge forward and halt the women only two steps into the living room, all three of them stopping when they see my messed-up hair and my angry glare.
Grabbing a hundred dollars from Riley’s wallet, who was the closest and also the jerk who had the gall to
call
them, I shove the women out into the hall and slam the door in their faces. Then I spin around, a scowl biting into my face.
“
That’s the last time you call some tramps when he’s like this,” I say, sticking a finger out threateningly, my heart pounding in pure rage and protectiveness. “I realize I’m in no condition to make decisions here, but neither is
he
. He doesn’t
want
them!” I cry.
Well?
Have I?
But the thought of anyone touching him makes me want to breathe fire. I don’t care that he’s not mine. I care that right now, Pete just shot something up his veins, his beautiful body is on standby, and his brain is shot. If I can stop this nightmare from happening, I will, and I just
did.
“
I’m not drunk now,” I state to the men when they only keep staring at me.
“
Fine,” I lie, and go to other room to get into my sleep shirt, but I just can’t leave it at that. Only Remy and I are sleeping in this suite, and when the door shuts after Pete, I know we’re alone.
Easing quietly inside, I trap my breath in my throat and soundlessly close the door behind me.
Silently I remove my shoes, then approach with light steps on the carpet as my eyes adjust to the shadows. He’s face down on the bed, and when he groans, my heart goes crazy with pain. The sheets rustle and the mattress squeaks as he shifts, and I’m so crazy about this man, I just want to eat him up with a spoon and do a whole lot of other things I’ve never wanted to do with anyone else.
The bugs flutter all over my stomach as I remember him telling Pete and Riley for me not to see. Does he worry about what I think of him? I really want to tell him he’s still “all that” to me. I want to tell him a lot of nice things. How well he fought. That I think he’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. That he’s had me walking on cloud nine all night just with his kisses. I know that I too, needed to hear this when my world came crashing down, my body broke and my spirit caved in, and Mel held my hand and told me I was still her number one. I want Remy to know I would also proudly hold up a poster that says I’m his #1 fan. But I just can’t talk through this ball of emotion in my throat. I’m so worried to see him like this it’s eating me. And my liver isn’t coping so well so I’m experiencing about a thousand emotions I don’t even know how to deal with right now. I think I just want to caress and cuddle him, but I’m afraid he’ll kick me out if he knows I’m here.
Nervous as I lean over, I set a hand on his big bare shoulder. His warmth seeps from his smooth skin and into me as I bend to the shell of his ear and softly buzz my lips along his earlobe, like he did to me in the plane.
The scent of his shampoo and the natural smell he emanates that drives me mad with lust seeps into me, and I can’t help but slide my fingers down his back, over the round curve of his buttocks. He’s so beautiful, my body weeps with longing to know his.
I understand the protocol of working “off” some extra energy. Athletes compete better with sex beforehand in many proven cases. These weeks with him have been intense for me too, and every day I feel more desperate and unbalanced from the pain of sheer sexual denial.
Lightly, full of regret for our lost night, I touch up the curve of his back and shiver at the contact of his warm skin, silken and smooth, sliding under my fingers. My pussy grips with pure longing, and a selfish part of me desperately wants him to open his eyes, see me, and pull me into his arms until we’re both out of breath and exhausted from what’s been building.
But another part of me dreads that he will send me away.
There’s such a high probability that he will. I don’t even know why I’m still here when I was so clearly warned to stay away. Maybe I’m weaker than Remy is. Maybe I’m crazier. I just want to be next to him tonight. He’s sedated, big and helpless right now, and I just know he would never hurt me.
As quietly as possible, I edge to the side of the bed and spread my body next to his. Suddenly he groans softly and rolls over fully to his back, and I hold my breath as the complete expanse of his beautiful muscled body is exposed to me. My breath just goes.
His nakedness in the moonlight makes me wet in the mouth, and between my legs, legs which feel like cotton now. I can see every muscle in his body, see where each adjoins to the next, and how his skin coats perfectly tight over every inch. I could delineate each muscle with a pencil. He’s so perfectly virile, I’m blazing hot and drenched between my legs, and I’m just desperate to feel his lips under mine, his tongue grazing mine.
His eyes are closed, his lashes two dark moons against his high cheekbones, his jaw perfectly square, even at rest. I stroke a finger across the scratchy stubble there.
Eventually I must have fallen deeply asleep. By the time his cell phone alarm goes off at five a.m. neither of us hears it, and it is ten a.m. when Riley wakes us up, clapping and laughing to get our lazy asses out of bed because Rem could use going to the gym today.
Riley actually seems delighted that I appear to have “slept” with Remy. He was probably eager for Remy to work off whatever “it” was, either with those prostitutes or with me.
The man totally misses the way we both jump to a sitting position when he leaves. Remington looks anything but groggy the instant he notices me across the opposite side of the bed. I think my hair is tousled and I must look every inch as trampled as I feel, but I can’t help noting his beautiful body is fully naked and the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen by daylight.
We take each other in for several heartbeats.
Heartbeats where every kiss he gave me last night swells in memory in the flesh of my lips.
The sunlight streams into the room, and the bed is undone, and we’re both in it, and our eyes are wildly going up and down.
A desperate urge to jump his sexy bones rushes through me, and I notice the primitive alertness that settles in his eyes as he quietly rakes me, top to bottom, as my body shakes in lust inside an old Disney World t-shirt courtesy of one of Melanie’s yearly “stay young” trips.
But he never comes after me.
I’ve never been hung over in my life.
But I still make an effort, and decide to call my parents from my cell phone as I head down the shops at Midtown Miami.
“
Mother, I’m
working
,” I tell her. “This isn’t a vacation to me. And if you
told
me the actual name of What’s-it-Called, I might have a clue about what you’re talking about.”
“
Oh, never mind! But we got a new postcard from Nora! She’s in Australia, and she sends all her love. You should see the beach in the picture, goodness! Now
that’s
paradise. I wonder if she’s seen any real alligators. Or is it crocodiles that live there? Crocodiles or alligators?”
“
Crocodiles, Mom. And I think there are some here in Florida, as well. Hey, I don’t want to run out of battery, I’ll call you next weekend, all right? I just wanted to check up on you.” I hang up, because it was seriously not a good idea to call my parents today. They’re great and I love them, but they’re my
parents.