45. Claire
Chapter forty-five
Claire
We strip down on the porch, shedding our murder clothes.
It’s significantly less messy than the last time we killed someone together—and the last time I killed someone on my own. I don’t think changing was even really necessary, but we are back in the states, so whatever deal Remy had with Costa Rican authorities to look the other way doesn’t apply here. The senator’s wife isn’t exactly a nobody. Surely, someone will notice she’s gone, and they’ll ask questions. How will they dispose of the body?
Remy handed me a change of clothes before I’d undressed—it’s an exact match to what I just peeled off.
“So the security footage at the hotel doesn’t register an outfit change.” He explains, glancing up at me as he tugs his own pants up his hips. His stomach is bare and hard sculpted, the muscles under his smooth skin taut. Whatever he’s been doing in the months since I left him, it suits him.
Somehow, he’s gotten more attractive. I recognize his beauty—the exquisite shape of him, the cut of his jaw, the curve of his lips. He’s a work of art, but the draw that I used to feel for him, for Rhea, for life in general? It’s just… gone.
Everything is gone, and it should terrify me, but that’s gone too.
Remy watches my face like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on in my head, and then his eyes dip to take me in. For a moment, I’d forgotten where we were, what I was doing. And then I watch him pry his eyes from me to glance behind him at the door to the house, where the senator, Wes, and my sister are still inside .
He approaches me slowly, looking like he’s fighting to keep from saying something, and I don’t move as he does. I just let him come to me, watch him cross the porch as the wind shakes the trees in the distance. But the air between us is static, warm and calm as he steps against me, his body aligning with mine. He tilts his head down at the same time he grabs my chin gently between his fingers and tips my head back.
I expect that when his lips land on mine, it will be passionate and electric, that his kiss will be desperate, that he’ll try to devour me. I expect he’ll try to awaken me with all our old tricks.
Instead, he brushes his mouth gently over mine, his soft lips placing a pillowy kiss on my own, parting them for him. His tongue slides against mine, almost experimentally, and an unexpected shiver breaks over me. That doesn’t seem to have any effect upon him, though, because he doesn’t stop or speed up… he takes his time tasting me, savoring me, and when his tongue slips from mine, his lips work against mine for a minute. Slow, steady, sweet.
Maybe for the first time, there’s no need, no urgency or lust in our kiss. And I say our kiss, because after he retreats, I don’t let go. I kiss him back, not ready to let go of the warmth he’s given me, the fluttering of something deep in my stomach, gentle and timid, but there all the same.
Remy is the one who breaks the kiss. His lips part from mine but with his forehead pressed against mine, we still share the same air, his warm breath ghosting on my wet lips.
Neither of us pull apart.
It’s just him and I, two broken people in a perfect moment.
The silence on the way home is peaceful, soothing my soul. Some of the weight of the last few days falls away, little by little.
When we get back to the hotel, he leads me to our suite with an arm around my shoulder all the way to the elevator. Once there, he lets go.
His knuckles brush against mine just lightly enough to be by mistake, but when I glance at him, he’s watching me closely enough that I think maybe it was intentional. I let the back of my hand touch his, focusing on the simple sensation of this single point of contact.
When we get to the penthouse, he goes straight to the bathroom. I hear the shower begin running, rainfall on the cold tile, and then he pokes his head out from around the door frame and presents me an empty hand, outstretched, and upturned.
My feet move me toward him without thinking about it, and I place my hand in his the same way, letting his fingers close around mine to pull me after him. He’s still fully clothed, though his shoes are haphazardly dropped outside the shower stall. I step out of my own as he pulls me to him, with him, toward the shower.
And when he steps under the spray without letting go of my hand or stripping off his clothes, I make the choice to follow him in.
The water is warm as it falls upon us—not hot, not cold. It’s comfortable, peaceful, perfect. Remy uses my hand in his to pull me under the spray with him, guiding me to step right up against him.
The shower soaks his shirt, making it cling to him like a second skin, but he seems unbothered about anything in the moment. I feel my hair plastering itself against my skin, and the water sculpting my shirt to me, but it’s oddly comfortable.
I rest my head against his chest without thinking about it, letting the rain fall on my face until my eyes have to close so that I can stay there, unmoving. And Remy does the same.
I don’t know how long we stay there together, fully clothed in the shower, but I’m not ready for it to be over when he runs his fingers along my spine. I separate myself from him just enough to open my eyes and find him watching me, so I step slightly away from him to let him go if he wants.
But he doesn’t go. He sinks down to the floor of the shower, his back against the wall and his hand still holding mine. He doesn’t have to tug me down with him or make any kind of offer for me to join him. The look in his eye says enough… he wants whatever I will give him, but he wants me to give it to him.
So, I do, sinking down onto his lap and curling against him again.
We relax like that for a while more. I’m so near sleep that by the time he speaks, I can’t be sure whether it’s real or a dream. The words are a whisper, but a beautiful one.
“We can sit together in the storm or in the calm, in the dark or in the light…” I’m vaguely aware of his hand smoothing over my head, stroking water from my hair even as more cascades over us. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Claire. Everywhere. But I won’t leave you alone in the dark.”