Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Her feet were killing her, and she wanted nothing more than to sit back at the bar and swallow down another velvety shot of tequila.
“It’s not that simple, love.”
Marcee slammed the quarters onto the tabletop, drawing the irritated glances of two cowboys chatting up a redhead.
“Maybe not to you, but to Wilkes it is. This isn’t a backup plan for me, Remy.
This is my dream job, and I am this close to flushing it down the toilet.
” Visions of flying back to New York with her proverbial tail tucked between her legs flashed across her drunken vision, landing on a twin-sized bed at her parents’ studio as she bided her time until she could start the new job with Eli at Cross Academy—assuming his bosses even allowed it after she was fired.
Shit. That hadn’t even occurred to her until that moment.
“I have to go,” she blurted. She pulled out her phone and texted Alex what she hoped was a coherent message, grateful that they’d taken different vehicles. Granted, she’d probably have to sit in hers for some time before she was okay to drive. At least she’d be alone. “I’ll call you later.”
“Marcee, wait!”
She rushed through the bar, flinging open the door and promptly getting hit in the face with a sheet of cold driving rain.
“Of course!” Marcee yelled into the night. “Of course it’s raining!”
Her keys were in her pocket as she ran for Ronaldo, clicking the fob halfway there so she could jump into the driver’s seat.
“S-s-s-s-s-hitttt.” Her teeth chattered so hard it hurt as soon as she shut the door behind her, and fat drops of icy water dripped from her hair and arms onto the cloth seats.
Her heart stuttered in jilted palpitations as the passenger seat door was wrenched open, allowing a blast of icy wind and rain to splatter her seats again. Remy slid inside and slammed the door shut, cursing under his breath.
“Remy, please. I can’t talk about this. Not now.”
“You’re not driving tonight. Not like this.” He snatched the keys out of the ignition and shoved them in his pants pocket, the side facing away from her.
It had to be some kind of joke. A big cosmic joke at her expense. Her head drooped against the headrest and a hysterical little laugh bubbled from her lips. “The Fates have aligned against me. Any minute now they’re going to get out their mythical scissors and snip my thread.”
“I’m sorry if tonight hurt you. You know I don’t want that.”
“It’s not that!” she exclaimed, then amended quietly, “Well, it’s not entirely that.”
Remy reached across, wiping tears disguised as raindrops from her face. “Then what is it?”
“This!” She waved between them, forcing her eyes open.
“Us.” Every curve on his face, the bold slope of his eyebrows and the sweep of his dark lashes, created pressure that wrapped around her pounding heart.
“It’s not fair, Remy. They’re going to take you from me.
Whether it’s to Wilkes or the paparazzi or the League, I’m going to lose you and there’s nothing I can do. ”
Remy’s voice was quiet and firm, nearly blotted out by the driving rain pummeling the car. “No one will take you from me, Marcee. No one. You’re my girl and there is no going back, for either of us.”
Her breath hitched as she leaned forward, drawn to him like she’d always been, even before they’d met.
“I love you so much, Remy,” Marcee whispered, reaching for him. Words tumbled from her mouth, loose and silky from the tequila, yet true all the same. “There’ll never be anyone else. You’re it for me.”
She closed the distance and kissed him hard, as if she could kiss away the fear and uncertainty looming over them. She raked her hands over his body, wanting to shred every item of clothing and press her skin against his.
She wanted him to tremble beneath her and come undone.
“Backseat.” Marcee crawled between the seats, and as soon as he cleared the glovebox, she pounced.
“Are you sure this is okay?” he asked, grabbing her hands.
Damn it, he was so good. How would she ever survive losing him?
She laced her fingers between his. “Yes. I want this.”
He pulled her down until she straddled him, their kisses urgent and needy, but it wasn’t enough.
“Pants.” Remy helped her get out of her jeans and she pulled his pants and underwear down until they pooled around his ankles by the door.
It took her precious seconds to fumble in her purse and find a condom, her fingers trembling as she tried to open it. She couldn’t wait any longer, so as soon as it was on, she pulled aside her panties and straddled him again, as gentle as a wild mustang.
His moan filled the space between them. “Bloody hell, that’s hot.”
Marcee assumed complete control, her hips working in swift, deep movements as the windows fogged up.
It was so good it should be criminal. In fact, it probably was.
Every brush of her clit against him pushed her closer and closer until she let her head fall back and her hands run through the strands of her hair, tugging at the roots.
Why couldn’t it all be so simple between them?
It wasn’t the first time for her in a backseat, but it was definitely the best, and when her orgasm exploded throughout her body, she couldn’t remember any other time before.