Chapter Thirty-One Archer #2
I laughed, holding my hand out in a fist. Gavin bumped it with his own. I set my hand on his back, leaned closer, and dropped my voice to a whisper. “I tell you what, when I’m ready to ask your mom that question, I’ll make sure to talk to you first, okay?”
Not if.
When.
Was next week too soon?
Gavin, smart little kid that he was, picked up on that difference, and his face filled with awe. “Okay,” he breathed. “If you’re dating my mom, does that mean we can go to a game?”
Everyone laughed.
“I think we can make that happen.”
Remi shared a look with her best friend, who silently mouthed, Holy fuck.
Within ten minutes, we’d said our goodbyes, Ness loaded down with kids for the night. Pops and Williams were the last to leave.
Williams lingered by the door, and I used both hands to steer him outside. “You’re leaving,” I stated.
“I am?”
“Yes.”
“Pops is leaving too?”
The man in question held up the keys. “Kid, if you think I want to see what’s about to happen here once they’re alone, you’re cracked in the head.” He kissed Remi on the cheek. “Please use a condom, okay?”
Her cheeks were pink. “Got it. Thanks, Pops.”
His smile fell when he glanced over at me. “You. Don’t fuck it up.”
“I don’t plan to, sir.”
Williams glanced between us, and the moment understanding hit, he turned beet red. “Oh. You want to be alone.”
“You think?” I shoved him toward his showy fucking car with no hint at propriety. “Leave.”
Remi buried her face in my chest as her body shook with laughter, and Pops gave me a tiny salute over the hood of her car. “Bring her back sometime tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Toyota left first because Williams hit the wrong button trying to shut the door of his sports car. “This fucking kid,” I muttered.
“You love him.”
When I glanced at Remi, she raised an eyebrow, daring me to disagree. I couldn’t. So I didn’t, giving a small, annoyed grunt when he finally got the door shut and the car started with an obnoxious roar.
Then we were alone.
I took a deep breath, goose bumps popping along my arms as I thought about an entire night with her.
“When was our third date?” I asked.
She didn’t miss a fucking beat. “When the truck delivered all that stuff.”
With firm hands, I gripped her hips and walked her toward the house. She almost stumbled on the steps, and we both laughed.
“Did we have a fourth?” I asked, sliding my hands underneath the hem of her shirt, relishing the curve of her ribs under my palms.
“You don’t remember?” Remi turned, backing up against the front door, tugging on my hands until I was pressed tight against her. The coquettish tilt of her head and the heated look in her eye made my mouth water. “Four was when you dropped off Analise.”
“That was a good one.” I stared at her parted lips. “What else?”
“You don’t have neighbors, right?”
“Are you kidding? I bought ten fucking acres just for this moment.”
She smiled. “What a forward thinker you are.”
“Fucking psychic.” My thumbs brushed the soft skin over the waistband of her jeans. “Why do you ask?”
Remi rolled up on the balls of her feet and kissed me. Hard. Before I could sweep my tongue into her delicious mouth, she pulled back, then used both hands and tugged her shirt off.
“Fuck,” I groaned. Her bra was a black lace thing that propped her glorious tits up, just waiting to be touched and sucked.
Behind the sheer fabric, her nipples were hard.
I brushed the hard tips with my knuckles and she dropped her head back, a delicate shiver racking her frame.
“Six,” I said in a desperate, rasping voice.
“I . . . I can’t think when you do that.”
“Want me to stop?”
“No,” she moaned. “Six was . . . it was when you brought your friends to the shelter.”
I ducked down and licked along the generous swell of warm, delicious flesh, and groaned when she gripped the back of my head to keep me there. While I licked at the nipple through the bra, I wedged a thigh in between her legs, and she whimpered, instantly seeking the friction she needed.
“That’s it,” I praised. “Show me what you need.”
I encouraged her hips to roll forward, slanting my mouth over hers in a slick, dirty kiss that left us both gasping. “Seven,” I commanded, fingers plucking at the button and zipper on her jeans.
She was trying to climb me, and I had to fight through the clawing, screaming urge to fuck her through the front door.
“S-seven,” she gasped when I slipped my hand down the front of her jeans.
Remi gripped my wrist, letting out a sweet keening sound when I pushed aside her lace underwear with two fingers and found her slick and wet and perfect.
There wasn’t much room to move, and the frustration made my hands tremble.
“Seven was when I helped you move Pops,” I said against her mouth, then kissed her again.
“Yes.” Even though I didn’t have enough space to work her over the way I wanted, Remi was riding my hand like it was all she wanted in life. “Yes.”
“God, I need these fucking jeans off,” I growled. “I need to see you, pretty girl.”
Our kisses were frantic and deep as I fumbled with the door, tongue against tongue in decadent, slow strokes.
We almost fell into the house. I kicked the door shut behind me, and the walls fucking shook from the force. We made it as far as the family room, tearing off our clothes with greedy hands and greedier kisses.
Carpet. Carpet was good for sex, right? Thank God I got the expensive rug that was soft and easier on the knees, because I was about to take her right there.
I wanted her so badly, I could hardly think, and my bedroom was too fucking far away.
“Here,” she begged. “Please.”
I tore at the clasp of Remi’s bra as she lay back on the floor, kissing her so deep, we could hardly breathe.
When I flung it away, I sat back between her spread legs and ran my hands up and down her toned thighs, dragging my thumb along the black lace I found there, eyes locked on the trembling breaths that made her breasts heave.
“You are so damn pretty,” I said reverently, ghosting my fingertips over her pebbled skin, down the line of her ribs, up over her sternum and tracing circles over her nipples again, watching the helpless arch of her back with a slight smile on my face.
I was still in my boxer briefs, but she stared down between my legs with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
“Eight,” she whispered in a shaky voice.
I prowled over her, ducking down to drag my tongue over her right breast. Then her left. I used my teeth in a gentle tug, and she keened.
“Right fucking now,” I said, then sucked her breast into my mouth.
Remi tugged my face up to hers, and we kissed deeply. My free hand yanked at her underwear, and she wiggled her hips to help, shifting her legs back around my waist when she’d kicked it free of her right leg.
We did the same movements to rid me of my boxer briefs, and when she wrapped her hand around me, working her wrist in a way that made it hard to breathe, I set my forehead on hers and moaned her name.
“Now,” she begged.
“I didn’t get to taste you, firefly.” I kissed her, sliding my tongue against hers in the same way I’d use it between her legs. She whimpered into my mouth. “I bet you’re so sweet.”
“Later,” she promised. “We’ll have date number nine in about . . . an hour. Mouths for date nine.”
My shoulders shook as I laughed. “I love the way you do math.”
“You’ll love the other things I do even more,” she promised, then bit down on my bottom lip as we kissed.
Even though it felt like a crime to pull away, I refused to rush this, so I sat back, committing the sight of her to memory, flushed and pink-lipped, her skin marked from my tongue and teeth and lips, her fiery hair spread wide on my floor. Her eyes softened the longer I stared.
“I love you,” I told her, my hands coasting up and down the impossibly soft skin of her inner thighs.
Remi pushed herself to a seated position and tugged my head down for a lingering kiss that made my head spin.
“I love you too,” she said against my lips.
Something set itself to rights inside me, snapped in place from an off-kilter position that I’d never really noticed.
I loved her and she loved me. “Now, show me how much.”
I’d show her for the rest of my life.
And that life started right now.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I reached over to grab my pants, pulling my wallet from the back pocket. She watched with a heated expression, her hands trailing lightly over her breasts while I tore open the condom packet with my teeth.
I rolled it on, eyes locked on hers, and I knew, with every fiber in my wrecked soul, that she was it for me.
Remi’s legs hitched against my sides as I lay over her again, bracing my weight on my forearms next to her head. We kissed again and again as I worked my hips between her legs, small, rolling teases meant to make her crazy.
She was no passive participant—arching her back, clutching at mine, sucking at my jaw, biting down on the meat of my shoulder, sucking my tongue into her mouth, begging with her body when I still didn’t press inside.
When I gave her an inch, then retreated, doing it again, going a bit deeper, then deeper still with another rock of my hips, she tossed her head back and moaned my name.
It was the best fucking thing I’d ever heard in my life. As I moved, I watched her facial expressions, the furrow of her brow and the gentle O of her mouth showing me when something felt really good.
I pressed her leg high against my side, opening her up a bit more, then took her mouth in a wet, dirty kiss as I rolled my hips forward in a long, deep thrust that made her gasp.
Fuck.
Fuck.
She was tight. Hot and wet and the most incredible thing I’d ever felt.
“You’re so good,” I groaned. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“Yes.”
“Say it.” I stayed still even though my body screamed to go hard and fast and chase the thing building in my bones. “Say it, firefly.”