Chapter Nine
Raven
Remy was right. Sleeping in his bed, wrapped in his arms, inhaling his warm, musky scent… I slept better than I have in years. Probably since the night Emily was attacked and I decided it was time to live alone.
Stretching my arms above my head, I yawn and decide to take a hot shower. Remy isn’t beside me and I assume he’s either working in his office or in the kitchen drinking his morning coffee.
I slide out of bed and discover he’s left another one of his T-shirts hanging over a brown, leather club chair in the corner.
On the table beside it is a hardcover novel.
I step over, see the Steve Berry title, and smile.
Remy obviously likes thrillers. It isn’t hard to picture him stretched out, feet up in the chair, reading as a way to relax before bed.
Nor can I deny I like learning personal things about the man I’m falling for despite my better judgment.
How can I not appreciate his protectiveness, understanding, and yes, his often demanding ways?
Ways that are going to rear their ugly head when I tell him I want to go out tonight.
But I meant it when I said I’m not going to let fear rule my life.
Knowing I have some time, I look around and find a pad and paper, pleased I don’t have to use my phone’s notebook app.
I do my best thinking when I hand write my poetry.
Poetry nobody knows I write. As I sit by the window in his recliner, the words come to me and I know this is what I’ll be reading tonight.
Something lighter than I thought of before.
Because there are moments… with Remy… when I feel like a different Raven.
With a sigh, I grab his shirt and head into the luxurious bathroom.
Last night I rinsed my only pair of panties and hung them to dry, sleeping without them.
It wasn’t easy to lie enveloped in Remy and ignore the desire racing through my veins.
But he was right in saying I needed to relax and feel safe.
Faster than I could have imagined, and definitely quicker than if I was alone, I fell asleep.
I take a quick shower, using all the jets in the glass enclosure, enjoying the pulsing as each hits my muscles. Closing my eyes, I appreciate the massage-like feel. After washing my hair with Remy’s shampoo and using his soap, I rinse, shut the water and step out onto a soft, comfortable mat.
As I dry myself off, I can’t help but notice I smell like Remy. And I like it. I pull on his shirt that comes to right above my knees, and tie up my hair in a messy, wet bun.
Before joining Remy, I notice my cell phone on the dresser, the only personal item I took with me other than the clothes I wore yesterday.
Picking it up, I call Caleb and relay last night’s events. “So I’m staying at Remy’s,” I tell him, knowing he’d flip out if he couldn’t find me.
“Why didn’t you call me? I’d have come right over.”
I smile at his expected answer. “Because you have Owen and you’d have had to find a sitter and Remy showed up soon after. I’m safe here.”
My brother lets out a rough breath. “Mom didn’t mention Lance was out early.”
And I haven’t heard from Emily, not that I expect to. I hope my old friend is okay and make a mental note to ask Remy to follow up with Garrett and find out what he can about her.
Caleb groans. “I know you’re right but I don’t like that I can’t be with you. Did you call Cara?”
I close my eyes for a brief moment. “No. I’m so frazzled I forgot. Would you mind doing it? Tell her I’ll get in touch when I’m more settled.”
My younger sister is the baby my mother had in the hopes she’d have a dutiful daughter—unlike me—as I’ve been informed so many times. Luckily, maybe because she’s blood-related, Lance has left Cara alone… so far.
But Cara wasn’t the agreeable child Cassandra wanted, and she’s recently moved out of our mother’s home to attend college in the city.
She lives in a doorman apartment with a roommate, also keeping her distance from our mother and her toxicity.
Cassandra doesn’t like it but she pays for Cara’s apartment choice thanks to the safety features.
“I’m worried about you,” Caleb says, breaking into my thoughts.
“If it’s about my physical safety, I’m okay in Remy’s penthouse apartment. Emotionally, I’m holding it together. That’s all I can say.”
Caleb groans. “Owen, stop playing with the eggs and eat them,” he says. “You’re shaken up. I can tell.”
“I’ll be fine, Caleb. I won’t let Lance win.”
“I agree. Listen, I need to go help the little troublemaker with breakfast. Don’t be insulted if I call Remy and I will check on you later. Love you,” my brother says, then goes on to explain to my adorable nephew why eggs belong on plates and not the kitchen table, before disconnecting the call.
Still smiling, I make the large, king-sized bed, smoothing the wrinkles on the cocoa-colored comforter, and readjusting the pillows, taking my time to inhale Remy’s arousing scent.
Then I pull on a pair of Remy’s oversized sweats, rolling them up, and walk out of the bedroom in bare feet.
I make my way to the kitchen. Voices sound from the direction in which I’m headed.
Remy’s I recognize. The female’s I can’t place, and a sudden pang of jealousy twists low in my stomach.
Until I remember him saying Fallon would be dropping off clothing this morning, and I chide myself for being silly.
I’ve met everyone in Remy’s family over the last couple of years but I can’t be sure it’s Fallon’s voice I’m hearing. But for me to be jealous? No. That’s not okay.
Remy and I aren’t in any kind of committed… anything. I’ve clearly nixed the idea of a relationship. So even if it isn’t Fallon, I tell myself to suck it up and stride into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” I say, cringing at the overly cheery sound of my voice.
“Raven, come on in.” Remy holds out an arm and fool that I am, I walk right into the crook of his shoulder. “You remember my sister Fallon, right?”
“Of course,” I say, with a genuine smile. Because Fallon isn’t one of Remy’s women. God, I’m being ridiculous.
The familiar-looking female in front of me has distinctive Sterling features, including golden-brown eyes similar to Remy’s.
Unlike most of her male siblings who dress in suits or expensive slacks and button-down shirts, Fallon’s taste can only be described as boho.
Unconventional skirts, bright colors, layered tops and vests, she’s the most casual Sterling and her bright grin says she’s happy to see me.
Without hesitation, Fallon steps forward and pulls me into a hug. I’m not used to others touching me, especially the women in my life I try to keep at a distance, but Fallon’s hug feels good.
“I’m so sorry about what’s going on with your brother,” Fallon says.
Remy clears his throat as if reminding his sister she’s crossed a line mentioning Lance.
She winces and goes on. “Anyway, I brought you two of my skirts and tops, a pair of ballet slippers, I hope you fit into an eight, and I stopped by a department store and picked up some personal items and makeup.” She shrugs. “I did my best.”
“You’re the best, Fallon. Really. I appreciate it so much. Let me know what I owe you,” I say.
The other woman waves a hand, dismissing the notion. “Don’t worry. Remy already paid me back.”
Of course he has, which means he won’t take my money, not that I won’t try to reimburse him.
“I’ve got to get going,” Fallon says. “Raven, if you need anything, just give me a call. Remy has my number.” She smiles at me, then walks over and kisses her brother on the cheek. “Bye. Be good.”
Her laugh follows her out of the room but she turns back at the archway exit. “Raven, when things calm down, let’s have a girls’ night.” With a wave, Fallon is gone, bracelets jingling and her skirt floating behind her.
“She’s great,” I say.
Remy chuckles. “She’s something, all right. So, how did you sleep?”
As if he doesn’t know. “Better than I have in years,” I admit. Not wanting to get into how safe I feel with him, I glance around the kitchen. It doesn’t look like he’s eaten yet. “Do you have food in the fridge? I’d be happy to make us breakfast.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you think I’d let you cook?”
His cell rings and he lifts it off the counter. “Just in time.” He holds up a finger, asking me to wait as he takes the call. “Hello?” After listening, he replies. “Send them up, thanks.”
“Who’s here?” I ask.
He grins at me, his smile a mix of roguish man and boyish grin. I can’t resist either.
A few minutes later, we’re sitting at the kitchen table, with more choices for breakfast than I’ve had in years.
“My God, Remy. What are we going to do with the leftovers?” I ask, as I load my plate with scrambled eggs and bacon, one big pancake, and a piece of Belgian waffle.
I pick up the small pitcher holding the syrup. I’m mid-pour over the delicious-looking carbs when a realization hits me and I place the syrup back on the table.
“What’s wrong?” Remy asks.
“Why did you order all this food?”
He studies me, eyes crinkled, obviously confused. “Because you had a rough night and I wanted to do something nice for you. What’s going through that suspicious mind of yours?” he asks.
I sigh, feeling guilty. “I thought maybe you had news about whether or not Lance has been released early. Not that I have doubts but I thought you were cushioning the blow.”
Silence follows my words and I want to cringe.
“There’s something you need to know about me. If I have something to tell you, I will because I trust you to handle it. Then I’ll order you pancakes and waffles.”
He winks and the knots that have formed in my stomach suddenly ease. His belief in my ability to cope gives me a boost of adrenaline along with the certainty that now is the time to break the news about my weekly plans.
“Remy?” I ask, as I cut up the pancake. “I have plans tonight I can’t cancel.”
His gaze lifts from his plate and those gorgeous golden eyes meet mine. “What plans?”
I swallow hard. The enjoyment I get from the weekly poetry and short story readings at a nearby coffee shop isn’t something I expect him to understand.
“Do you remember when I told you about how I enjoyed Edgar Allan Poe?”
He nods, the furrow between his brows telling me he has no idea where this explanation is going.
“Well, when I was in college I started writing my own poems and short stories. At first I emulated Poe because my life was so dark at the time. Then, once I moved into my apartment here and things with Lance calmed down, I was able to just write more from the heart. A friend took me with her to a coffee shop that hosts readings every Sunday night and it became a ritual. One I enjoyed.”
He’s listened intently, not once interrupting. “So you want to go to a coffee shop tonight?”
I nod. “It gets crowded but it’s important to me.”
He lifts a napkin and wipes off his lips. “Raven? Come here.”
I rise and walk over to him, shocked when he pats his lap. “Now sit.”
More confused than ever, I lower myself onto his lap. Though I can’t miss the bulge in his black track pants, I also know that’s not why he called me over. It’s just a side benefit, I muse, and wriggle my ass until his erection nestles between my thighs, leaning me in a more arousing position.
“Behave,” he chides. “Now look at me.”
I turn my head to face him. Our noses are inches apart and I want to taste the maple syrup I smell on his mouth.
“Why is this the first I’m hearing about this poetry night of yours?”
I blink. The question might be easy on the surface but the answer forces me to delve deeper. “Because I don’t normally share personal things with anyone,” I whisper.
He nods, his lips curving upward in a pleased smile. “And why are you telling me now?”
I wrinkle my nose, confused. “Because I need you to go with me tonight in case Lance is prowling around.” Isn’t that obvious?
“Why else?” he asks, taking my arms and looping them around his neck.
I squirm at our intimate position which only serves to rub his cock against my sex, the wetness between my thighs growing the longer I sit on his lap.
“Raven?” he asks.
“Hmm?” I’ve lost all train of thought.
“Why else did you tell me about tonight?”
I stare, lost in the beauty of his handsome features. Can a man be beautiful? I didn’t think so until I met Remy. “Because I wanted to share a part of my life with you.”
The admission shocks me not only because I would never have told him if he didn’t have me feeling so pliant and safe in his arms. But also because I didn’t realize that truth myself.
“Exactly.” That short acknowledgment tells me how pleased he is with my answer.
“What are you, like a horse whisperer pulling answers out of me?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I’m a Raven whisperer and I will take you where you want to go tonight as long as you promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?” I ask, wariness returning.
He runs his knuckles over my cheek. “That you’ll stay close to me at all times.”
I purse my lips, knowing he’ll find out tonight his request won’t be all that easy to do. But since I know I’ll be safe, I’m able to make the promise. “I will,” I murmur.
Without warning, he shifts me in his lap and suddenly he’s standing. I wrap my legs around his waist, anchoring myself to him. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“We’re still friends with benefits, right?”
I nod, my aching sex keenly aware of which benefit I desire at the moment.
He smiles and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Good. Then we’re going to exercise some of those benefits. What do you think about spending the day in bed before we have to go out later?”
“Works for me.”
A few seconds later, he’s tossing me onto the bed and our day begins.