Chapter 21 #2
“One of my biggest clients exclusively writes paranormal shifter romances, so I read and edit scenes just like this about twice a month every month. I guess if you dry-run a situation enough, it kinda helps you process it when it actually happens.”
That must have been the last answer that Remy expected, because his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He stared at me for a long moment before he burst out laughing. And this time, I had to join him.
All this time, I had been worried about whether Remy was even ready for a relationship or felt anything toward me, and it turned out that he was an entirely different species.
And not just any species, but a magical one!
There had been a whole subplot of conflict going on, and I hadn’t even been aware of it.
By the time our laughter began to ebb off, we were left staring at each other, smiles on our faces, and breathing slowly returning back to normal.
I thought that he might look different to me now that I knew what he was, but really, he was still the same old Remington.
The hunky father who had no idea how to ice skate, who loved being a girl dad, and who dropped deep insights often about the uglier things in life at the most unexpected times.
He was still kind. He was still so funny. His biceps were still nearly the size of my head.
And he had saved me.
Despite the huge risk it put both him and his people at, despite it revealing a side of the world to me that I no doubt wasn’t allowed to know about, he’d done it to make sure I was safe. He’d been willing to give up his security, his secret, all for me.
What else was I supposed to do but kiss him again?
I’d wanted to during our meal. In fact, I’d been resisting it since we entered the cabin, and I realized that this was basically a neon sign from our children, encouraging us to explore the chemistry between us.
But something had been holding me back. I couldn’t tell if it was that I wasn’t ready, if it was that he wasn’t ready, or if it was some complex mix of the both of us, but I hadn’t wanted to make that leap yet.
Now, however, not only was I ready to make that leap, but I was happily throwing myself off that cliff for the second time in a couple of minutes.
Remy’s reaction was much less shocked, and his arms that had never really fully let go of my waist, only allowing some space between us when we half parted, squeezed me that much tighter.
I hadn’t kissed anyone for basically a decade, but that didn’t matter one bit.
Remy’s lips were like a revelation against mine, the pressure of his mouth grounding me in a way I hadn’t been aware that I needed.
I was surprised at how aggressively he pursued the kiss, Not painfully so, not boorishly so, but in a perfect display of dominance that made the edges of my mind go a bit wobbly.
I’d only had one partner in my life, and it was back when I didn’t really know head from tails (thanks, lack of a proper sexual education!), so it wasn’t exactly like I was an expert on my own likes and preferences when it came to intimate relations.
However, years of working on romance novels of various spice levels had given me some idea of what I might be into, and being a little submissive in bed was definitely one of them.
But it was an earned sort of submission, so perhaps that was why I caught his lower lip between my teeth and nipped it. Not enough to be mean, definitely not enough to cause real harm, but most certainly enough to be bratty.
Who knew that being bratty could be so fun?
The next thing I knew, Remy backed me into a wall, holding my chin tight so I had to look up into his face.
It was the same face I adored, but there was something different to it.
Something wilder. Like the trappings of civilization and polite society had been lifted just enough to let me see the primal force simmering below his surface.
I wasn’t scared, and I still had that absolute certainty that he would never hurt me, but boy, it thrilled me. That same defiant part of me wanted to test him. To push buttons and see exactly where the boundaries were.
“I…” Remy said in a half snarl. I could literally see his mind catching up with what he was doing.
His grip on my chin loosened slightly, and he took a step back.
“Are you okay?” he managed to get out, and as much as I loved his concern for me, I found myself clamoring for that peek at the wild I had seen inside him.
In fact, it was rapidly becoming a visceral need, which surprised the hell out of me.
Granted, if I had enough blood flowing to my brain, maybe I would have realized that I had been focused on being such a good mom for so long that I had smothered the other parts of myself.
The hopeless romantic I had been after I hit puberty, my burgeoning mind flooded with epic tales of knights and shining armor and maidens who could take care of themselves, and eventually found the counterpart that respected them for what they were.
Then there had been the carefree teenager who had only recently escaped from her shackles and was eager to try anything and everything that had been forbidden to her. She liked food, she liked sex, she liked staying up late and going to new places without a care of where she would lay her head.
Then there was the girl who just wanted to be taken care of. Not to be spoiled or doted on hand and foot, but to have someone who would help carry the weight of the world that was on her shoulders. To be able to trust someone like she hadn’t since she was a child.
I had locked all those pieces of me away in a chamber deep underground, and something about kissing Remy had flung open the doors, allowing them to clamor to the surface and demand what they wanted.
And what they wanted was quite simple.
They wanted him.
The romantic wanted the desperate kisses and his hands gripping me like he was afraid I could vanish from in front of him at any moment.
The hedonist wanted the pleasure, wanted the rough bite of his strength and the heat of his touch.
Wanted to get lost in the sensations until there was nothing else left. No room at all for logical thought.
And the girl?
The girl just wanted Remy to keep looking at me like I was something truly valuable to him. Like he enjoyed my company, and I could say or do anything silly, maybe even stupid, and he wouldn’t judge me for that.
“I’d be better if you kissed me again,” I said, deciding to let all of those voices win. I had put myself on the back burner for years and years, and while I would do it again if Max needed it, he obviously didn’t want that anymore. He was in remission. He was gaining weight and flourishing.
He had set this whole thing up to show me that it was okay for me to have other things in my life beyond him.
I had no idea what I had done to have such a truly empathetic and wonderful son, but I owed him the entire world.
And I wasn’t about to throw his gift in his face by not even trying to enjoy it.
If Remy turned me down, that would be one thing, but I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
It was satisfying to see my words have a physical effect on Remy. His entire body shuddered, and his teeth became slightly sharper. I’d read about that in books and never really understood the appeal, but now that it was happening right in front of me, I got it. Oh boy, did I get it.
“Are you sure?” he asked in that rumbling, raspy voice of his, and holy hell, I swore my pussy throbbed with each syllable.
Okay. Apparently, I have a voice kink. Good to know.
I could have just said yes—it was the mature thing, after all. But I wanted that firm grip back on my chin, I wanted to feel that dominance I’d gotten a tiny taste of. I sent him a cocky expression and turned my tone slow and syrupy.
“Yeah, unless you’re too scared?”
I was playing a dangerous game. Not because I was worried that Remy would hurt me—never that—but there was always an inherent risk with teasing that you might accidentally say something that could be an unfortunate trigger.
If Remy wasn’t ready, I would never mock him for that.
And I liked to think he knew that, and would warn me if I was ever going too close to that border.
“Scared?” The word was more a growl than actual speech.
“Yeah, you know,” I continued, feeling mischievous in all the best ways. I was playing with a fire that might temporarily scorch me but never harm me. “Chicken.”
Remy leaned closer, his dark eyes stormy, and his lips brushing against mine when he spoke—a tantalizing point of connection but not enough. Now that I was allowing myself to want, it was like that desire was making up for years of lost time.
“If I didn’t know you so well, I would say you’re trying to goad me, Jeannie.”
The way he said my name was pure sin. I didn’t think I’d ever heard it uttered that way. I was a woman possessed. I leaned forward, wanting to capture his lips with mine, to get one more hit of the drug that was him.
But he turned his head to the side so I only got his cheek, and the whine that came out of my mouth surprised me. I truly had no idea I was capable of that kind of sound.
“What’s wrong?” he teased, and I saw a glimmer of the lighter side of him. I appreciated it just as much as the rumbling growl. I liked that he switched it up, never letting me get too comfortable, and never letting him get too predictable. “Are you the only one who’s allowed to be... cheeky?”
Suddenly, his lips were on mine again, and this time there was nothing holding him back from the dominant wave within his kiss.
Yes! I cheered in my mind as I clung to him, loving the pressure, loving the heat, loving the scrape of his teeth against the sensitive flesh of my lips. The intensity of it spoke to the rawness in my soul.