34. Remy
REMY
She leadsme to her private bathroom, then allows me the honor of stripping her out of those white shredded panties. It takes another two-second glance at my filth still sliding down her body for my dick to perk up in search of round three.
“You’re hard again.” She walks into the open-ended shower, eyeing my cock over her shoulder as she turns on the water. “Does that mean I didn’t do a good enough job?”
“No, Pyro.” I follow, closing in at her back, wrapping my arms around her waist to splay my hands over her hips. “My dick is rarely soft around you.”
I nuzzle my face into her neck, hating the weakness she creates in me and fucking loving it at the same time.
I can’t keep denying her. The sex—yes. This thing between us—hell no.
Somehow I have to figure out how to make this work. How to keep her safe. How to muzzle the head of the East Coast mafia so I can have free rein with my girl.
I wash her, falling victim to the gentle way she leans back against my chest, her head resting against my shoulder as I run soap over her skin. She returns the favor, paying extra attention to the parts of me that enjoy her the most, along with the healing bullet wound on my leg.
I let her get to know my body without judgment, despite the act of Herculean strength it takes to stop my own hands from wandering. I don’t even utter a word of protest when her fingertips graze teasingly over my balls, making me want to bite my fist.
Her shy, inquisitive nature undoes me.
And I fucking adore that I get to claim so many of her firsts.
All except the one I’m not willing to comprehend.
When she asks me to sleep in her bed, I don’t bother fighting it. If I returned to my own room, I’d only lie there thinking about being beside her. And I’d rather sport a hard dick while in bed with a beautiful woman than be alone while the female in question runs rings around my head.
It isn’t until she falls asleep that I grab my cell from the bedside table, dim the screen light, then open a text to my oldest brother.
Me
What would you do if you fell for someone Lorenzo warned you away from?
The message turns from delivered to read almost instantly.
Two seconds later my cell vibrates with an incoming call from Matthew.
Fuck.
I rush to reject the call, then start typing again.
Me
She’s asleep beside me. Don’t want to wake her.
Matthew
Fucking hell, Rem. What have you gotten yourself into?
I scrub a hand down my face, asking myself the same question.
Matthew
Going behind Lorenzo’s back is never a good idea. I’ve been ordered to handle men for far less than getting their dick wet in the wrong place.
Handle aka kill.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Me
What would you do if it was Layla?
The three dots of impending reply appear, then vanish. Appear then vanish.
Matthew
Nothing and no one could keep me from her. Not in this lifetime or the next.
Matthew
Layla means everything to me. But the problem is what this woman means to you.
I glance to Ollie peacefully sleeping at my side, her hair still braided, her bare shoulders begging to be kissed.
I’d like to think it’s too soon to tell what she means. That there’s no way of knowing how I’ll feel for her in a few days, let alone a few weeks.
But that’s a lie.
I already know.
The problem is the heavy weight that forms in my gut at the thought of what’s to come in the future.
It’sclose to eight in the morning when I carefully climb out of bed, trying not to wake Ollie as the sound of clattering pots and pans echo from the kitchen.
I can already smell bacon. I’d be surprised if Carlo can’t, too.
“Are you trying to sneak out before the awkward morning-after conversation?” Ollie mumbles into her pillow.
I grin, enjoying the rasp of her morning voice while I pull on my pants sans underwear. “No. I’m trying to sneak out before your father wakes up and finds me walking from his daughter’s room in last night’s clothes.”
“Smart thinking.” She lazily turns onto her back, hauling the sheet high to cover her nakedness while she unabashedly ogles my ass.
“At least one of us is being smart.” I raise a warning brow. “If you keep staring at me like that the sounds that come from this room will be far worse for Carlo to deal with.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of the male anatomy.”
Her brows furrow in the cutest frown of contemplation. “Does it count if all those males were dead at the time?”
I suppress a laugh. “Have I told you how much I love how morbid you are?”
The tops of her cheeks darken.
It’s a strange comment to inspire shyness but I’ll take it.
“I also love how you blush.” I yank up my zipper before my dick can get any harder. “The drive home is going to be torture.”
“Will it make it more difficult if I tell you I forgot to pack enough panties?” She bats her lashes. “And you kinda destroyed the ones I had on last night. I’m going to have to go without all day.”
I latch onto the button of my pants, my grip painfully tight. “You’re playing with fire, Pyro.”
She gives a wickedly shy grin. “Really? That’s my favorite pastime.”
I lower my gaze and readjust the growing tent in my pants. As much as I’d like to flirt with her all day, there are repercussions from last night to deal with. “We need to start making tracks.”
She sits up, positioning herself against the headboard. “Did something else happen?”
“No.” I grab my shirt and jacket off the floor. “But I don’t want to risk being caught unaware. Russo and Valenti stayed up all night disposing of issues and watching the house. I want them back in Baltimore so they can get some sleep.”
“Okay.” She climbs out of bed, dragging the sheet with her. “I’ll shower and be ready as soon as I can.”
I pull on my shirt while she heads toward the bathroom, the white sheet trailing behind her like a sordid wedding gown. “Remy…” She pauses at the open door and glances over her shoulder to look at me. “What is this?”
I frown. “What is what?”
“This.” She turns back, waving a hand toward me. “Us.”
I tense.
“Actually—” She holds the sheet to her chest as she continues inside the bathroom. “—don’t answer that. Your face already holds a familiar expression, and I didn’t appreciate where the conversation led last time.”
I clench my jaw. “I can’t give you a label right now, Ollie.”
“Fair enough.”
No, it’s not fair enough.
She gave me an all-access pass to her body and I can’t even give her reassurance. All I need is fucking time.
“I won’t take long in the shower. I’ll see you in the kitchen for breakfast.” She closes herself into the bathroom, the click of the lock a deafening shun.
I curse myself as I leave her room and return to mine, then shower, change, and pack my shit.
Ollie is already seated at the breakfast counter, talking to the chef when I enter the open living area with my duffle bag, their far-too-friendly conversation raising the hair on the back of my neck.
She looks fucking gorgeous in short shorts and a flowing long-sleeve white linen top, her twin braids begging to be tugged.
“Are you seeing someone?” the chef asks while cracking an egg.
I clench a fist around my bag handle, biting my tongue while I wait for her response.
She shakes her head. “I thought I was, but there’s no label, so I assume it was a fling.”
I drop my duffle to the tile, the heavy weight falling with a booming thud.
They both glance toward me, the chef with wide-eyed surprise, and Ollie with taunting sass. She knew I was standing there when she answered him.
“She’s seeing someone,” I snarl.
The chef glances between us, an oh, shit look crossing his face.
“Am I?” Ollie swivels her stool to face me, casually forking a bite of bacon into her mouth. “That’s confusing.”
The chef turns away, busying himself with something in the fridge.
“Can I have a moment in private, Olivia?” I ask through clenched teeth.
Her lips quirk.
She’s loving this, and yeah, I don’t fucking blame her, but she needs to be careful. I have a short fuse when it comes to the thought of losing her.
“Of course, Remington.” She slides from her stool to pad toward me.
That is not my fucking name, and given her extensive googling, she goddamn knows it. But it looks like she woke up and chose violence this morning.
“Your room,” I growl. “Now.”
She smirks—fucking smirks—then saunters that heavenly ass to the hall and into her room.
“What are you playing at?” I close the door behind us, the wood hitting the threshold with a thwack.
“I’m not playing. You said no labels, so I’m single, aren’t I?” She frowns in mock confusion. “That’s how math maths, right?”
She pivots and walks for the bed.
I grab her wrist, tugging her back to me, her toes stumbling across my shoes, our mouths an inch apart. “That’s not how my math fucking maths, Pyro, and you know it. You don’t get to flirt with other men unless you want them dead.”
She stares up at me, her inhales increasing. “Is that a two-way street?”
“You bet your fucking ass it is.” I weave my arm around her waist, dragging her into my hips. “If you want a label so badly, take whatever you need. You want to be my lover, Pyro? Fine. You want to be my spouse? My girlfriend? My fucking wife?” I lean in so our noses are almost touching. “I. Don’t. Fucking. Care. They’re just words, Ollie. You can take them all.”
She frowns. “You don’t care?”
“No, I don’t.”
She flinches and pushes against my chest.
“What have I done now?” I tighten my hold. “Didn’t I just give you what you want?”
“No.” She wiggles, trying to calmly escape.
“Then what is it?”
“I want to know you care about me.”
“You’re all I fucking care about. How do you not know that?”
She pauses, her brow furrowed, her insecurities clearly warring with what’s right in front of her.
“You want proof that I’m in this but you’ve had it the whole time.” I drag a finger under the collar of her shirt and drag out her necklace. “You wear my ring, Ollie. I’ve been yours for months.”
A breath shudders from her.
God, I want to taste her again. To make her come.
“But we need to keep this quiet for a while.” I nuzzle my nose against hers, fighting temptation like a motherfucker. “At least until I figure out how I’m going to deal with Lorenzo.”
“I can prove myself to him,” she whispers against my lips. “Just tell me how.”
“You’ll do nothing. Leave me to handle it. Okay?”
She swallows. Nods.
I return the necklace to its hiding place beneath her shirt. “Now get that tight little ass back out in the kitchen and welcome your father to breakfast before I bend you over the bed and make the drive home incredibly awkward.”
She grins, then slays me with a hard, deep kiss, before walking from the room.
I have to remain in place for a good five minutes to get my dick under control.
The drive home isn’t any better. Not with Ollie seated beside me, her fingers constantly playing with the frayed hem of those short shorts while I question whether or not the whole no-panty situation was real or just a fucking cruel punishment.
I drop her father and Lucy off at the funeral home first, even though Ollie’s house is closer. I fucking fly up those stairs to dump Carlo and Lucy’s bags in the living room.
“In a hurry to get somewhere?” Ollie taunts as I climb back in the car.
“Watch your mouth. If you’re not careful, I’ll fill it.”
She chuckles, her grin wide.
Does she think I’m joking?
The damn woman has broken me. I can’t quit picturing what I want to do to her.
“Out of curiosity…” she muses, resting her cheek against the headrest to stare at me. “What would you fill it with?”
My muscles tense. “Don’t fuck with me, Pyro. I may not be in a hurry to take your virtue, but there are a hell of a lot of things I can do within my parameters.”
“Like what?” she purrs.
Son of a goddamn bitch. “You want to know what I’ve been thinking about the whole car ride?”
She nods, her teeth dragging against her bottom lip.
“I was thinking about how pretty you’d look on top of me, riding my face while you sucked my cock.”
She clenches her thighs together.
“I want to watch you touch yourself,” I grate. “I want to learn how you’ve made yourself feel good all these years. With toys and without.”
I fight a groan at the image of her fingers inside her pussy while my cock glides in and out of her mouth.
It’s slow and brutal torture.
She whimpers. “I really should’ve worn underwear.”
I scowl at the traffic ahead, forcing my hands to remain on the steering wheel.
Indulging in her while in Baltimore is too risky. I need to work out a plan first—not only with Lorenzo, but the cartel and their outsourced contract regarding my existence.
“Yes, you fucking should’ve,” I mutter. “We can’t mess around for a while. It’s not safe.”
“How long is a while?”
A week. A fucking month. “I don’t know.”
“I can handle it.” Her tone falls quiet. “We both can, right?”
I turn onto her street, the answer to her question remaining to be seen. “If you’re asking if I can be faithful, that’s not something you need to worry about.”
“Then what should be worrying me?”
Literally everything else—Lorenzo, the cartel, the cops.
I could write a list but that would take a rather large notebook and more free hours than I have at my disposal.
“Just lay low.” I pull into her drive, deliberately keeping the engine running as I shift into park. “Don’t draw unnecessary attention.”
“That’s my life motto.” She reaches into the back of the car, her ass poking up in the air, those tiny shorts doing exactly what sexualized fashion marketing intended as she drags her tiny suitcase and dress bag from the backseat. “Are you going to come in?”
“Not this time. We don’t know who’s watching.”
Well, we definitely know the nosey old bat next door would be, but apart from her, the list of witnesses is unknown.
Ollie sighs, her shoulders slumping as she wrangles her belongings in her lap. “Will you call me?”
“More often than you’ll appreciate.”
She smiles, her eyes dancing with infinite beauty. “I’d like to see you try.”
God, she astounds me.
Confuses me.
Fucking destroys me.
Her gaze lowers to my mouth, that look of hers transforming to the wanton yearning she had back in the bar when I almost bartered my life for a kiss.
Then in a blink it’s gone. She snaps out of it, leaving me to be the dazed horny fuck itching to break the rules.
She climbs from the car. “I’ll speak to you later.”
I reach to unclasp my belt, already succumbing just a little. “I’ll help with your bags.”
“No, it’s okay. If you follow I’ll struggle not to break the rules, so it’s better if I go on my own.”
I clench my teeth, hating that she’s stronger than I am.
She closes the door and crosses the yard then climbs the few steps to her porch.
I scrutinize each step. The flex of her toned calves. The glide of her smooth thighs.
She drops her belongings to the floor, shoves her key into the front door to push it wide, then bends over to reclaim her bags.
The thoughts that pummel me are fucking filthy. So gloriously wicked and vile.
I can’t take it.
I cut the engine, shove from the car, and stalk toward her.
She turns to me in confusion as my steps thunder across her porch, then I’m shoving her bags inside the house and dragging her across the threshold.
“Remy?”
I kick the door shut with my foot as her hands grasp my shoulders. A few fumbled steps later I have her backed against the cushioned armrest of her sofa, thankful for all the drawn curtains that hide what I’m about to do to her.
“You better not have lied about not wearing panties.” I yank at her zipper, shove my hand beneath her shorts, then fucking groan at the skin on skin when my fingertips glide to her bare mound.
“Do I meet your expectations?” she rasps, curling her legs around me.
“You’ve always blown them out of the water.” I slam my lips against hers, my tongue seeking immediate entry.
She moans into me, arching her hips as I slide my fingers lower.
“Already wet,” I growl.
“It’s a given, especially after learning what that mouth can do.”
A throat clears across the opposite side of the room, startling the fuck out of me.
I yank Ollie off the sofa and shove her behind me, grabbing my gun from my waistband with my other hand to point toward the intruder.
“Calm down, brother.” Salvatore drawls from the far shadowed end of the dining table. “I apologize for interrupting, but I wasn’t sure how long I could control my gag reflex.”
My pulse thunders with rage as I keep my gun trained on him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Ollie’s fingers dig into my hips, her panicked breathing brushing my ears.
“Apparently, I’m catching you in the act of defiance, am I not?” He pushes to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the tile. “Lorenzo wants to see you.”
“Oh, God,” Ollie whispers behind me.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he drawls. “Lorenzo wants to see you, too.”
“Over my dead body,” I snarl.
My brother snickers. “I was joking. He doesn’t want her. Yet. So you can lower your weapon. There’s no need to be hostile.”
I glare. “You’re such a fucking dick, Salvo.”
“It’s in the genes.” He strides toward us, Ollie’s fingers clutching at my shirt. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
I tense as he passes, my gun following his every step until he’s on the other side of the front door.
“Should I panic?” she asks, the question redundant when her tone suggests she already is. She never should’ve stopped panicking. Neither of us should’ve, because this is exactly what I was worried about.
“I’ll handle it.” I turn to her.
“Should I come with you?”
Yes. I don’t want her out of my fucking sight. But I also don’t want her in the vicinity of Lorenzo and his guards. “It’s best if you stay here.”
Her eyes plead with me. It’s fucking torture.
“Do you still want this?” I cup her jaw, hating the fear that stares back at me.
She swallows. Nods. “Yes.”
I shouldn’t be relieved.
It’s selfish, and careless, and fucking asinine. It’s the opposite of what’s best for her. But I’m too far gone. Letting her go isn’t an option when she’s just as caught up in this madness as I am.
“I need you to take this.” I grab her wrist and place my gun in her palm.
“What?” Her eyes bug as she tugs her arm away. “No.”
“If you want me, Pyro, you also want this lifestyle. So you’ll take the fucking gun.” I grab her again, forcing the Walther back into her hand. “You need to be able to protect yourself.”
I wait for her to retreat. To change her mind and make the safer choice.
Instead, her delicate fingers wrap around the weapon, her gaze focused on it with trepidation. “What do I do with it?”
“The safety’s off. If anyone unfamiliar gets within five feet of you, pull the trigger. Ask questions later.”
She glances from me to the gun and back again. “Do you really think I’ll need it?”
“I’m not taking any chances, and neither should you.” I wrap my fingers around her neck and kiss her. Hard.
She clings to my shirt with her free hand, tugging, yanking.
“I’ve gotta go.” I pull back.
She keeps clinging to me. “I’m sorry, Remy.”
I grab her chin and stare into those slaying eyes. “Don’t be. This was bound to happen when I lack the restraint to stay away from you. I just need to figure out a way to get us through it.”
A bang rattles the front window.
“Come on, dickhead,” Salvo shouts. “I have better things to police than your love life.”
I snarl. “I’m going to kill him.”
Ollie pulls a half-hearted smile. “Can I watch?”
“No, Pyro, you can participate.”