Chapter Nine-Remy
Andy says, “I want you,” in that husky little voice of hers, and the air leaves my lungs.
Not in some poetic way—no, this is visceral.
Like her words just socked me in the gut and set my blood on fire.
Andrea Ramirez isn’t just temptation.
She’s everything I shouldn’t want and everything I’ve been aching to have again ever since that night at Junior’s wedding.
Now she’s standing here in tiny shorts and a T-shirt, barefoot and flushed, biting that plush bottom lip like she’s two seconds from changing her mind.
I won’t let her.
Not tonight.
Not when she knows what she’s asking for. Not when she’s looking at me like I’m the only man in the world who’s ever touched her just right.
“Let me in,” I say, low and rough.
Her fingers loosen on the doorknob. One small nod and I step inside, closing the door behind me—but not locking it.
No need.
The kind of moment we’re about to have?
It doesn’t belong behind barriers.
I move toward her slowly, giving her time to run.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she backs up one step, then another, until her juicy thick thighs—bare beneath the hem of those goddamn short shorts she better only wear for me—hit the back of her couch.
Her breathing is shallow, but her gaze never leaves mine. Not even when I reach for the hem of her shirt.
“You sure?” I murmur again, voice thick.
Her answer is a breathless whisper. “Take it off me, Remy. Please.”
So I do.
The soft cotton lifts, exposing inch after inch of smooth, golden skin, and those ripe, tip-tilted tits.
I pause only to press a kiss to the center of her chest, right above her heart.
She shivers.
I groan, cupping those soft mounds in their lacy confines, and rubbing her nipples between my fingers.
“Fuck, Baby, you’re like a fantasy.”
Her bra is pale blue lace, delicate. Doesn’t match the snark and sass she throws like daggers, which somehow makes it more perfect.
I slide the straps down one by one, mouth trailing behind my fingers, and when her breasts spill free—Christ.
I nearly lose it.
I drop to my knees in front of her like a man in worship.
She gasps when my tongue finds her nipple, already tight and begging for my mouth.
My hands curve around her waist, palms splaying over her hips as I pull her closer. She sucks in a breath, but I squeeze harder.
I love the soft curves of her body, and I want no pretense between us.
Her fingers tangle in my hair and tug, and the sound she makes when I suck harder?
It’s a goddamn symphony.
“Remy,” she moans my name, and my cock is so hard it’s trying to punch a hole through my pants.
“Still good, Baby?” I ask, looking up at her, lips slick from her skin.
She nods, eyes wide, pupils blown and dazed. “Better than good.”
That’s all I need.
She shrugs off her bra the rest of the way, and I hook my fingers in the waistband of her shorts and tug them down, trailing kisses from her navel to the soft skin of her inner thighs as I go.
She kicks them off, standing in nothing but a lace thong, dripping with want, and I swear I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
“You’re trembling,” I murmur, brushing my thumbs over the crease where her thigh meets her hip.
“You’re staring.”
“Damn right I am.”
I lean in, breathing hot against her panties.
“You know how long I’ve thought about this?”
Her hand cups the back of my head.
“Yeah?” She grins.
Sexy little siren.
“Well, stop thinking, Big Guy, and show me.”
I rip the lace aside, and I dive right in.
My tongue finds her center, and she’s—fuck, she’s so wet. Soaked. And all for me.
“Andy,” I groan her name as I start to feast.
Because how could I not?
Long, languorous licks from asshole to clit, I push her down on the sofa, spreading her legs wide, never giving up my position as I suck and lick my fill of her.
She’s dripping down her thighs now, whimpering sweetly as I slide my tongue through her folds and latch onto the spot that makes her buck.
She tastes like need.
Like heat and honey, and sweet cherry pie.
I eat her like a starving man—because I am one.
Starving for her. For this.
“S’good, Baby. You taste fucking divine.”
Her legs start to shake, and I lift her hips—pull them up and off the couch, fastening her to my mouth so she’s riding my face and doing some kind of backbend onto the seat cushion.
She’s close. So close. I feel her fingers trying to pull my hair, but it’s too short, so she just grabs my head.
I wrap my arms around her, holding the bulk of her like she weighs nothing at all—and really, she doesn’t.
Not compared to me.
I’m a big fucking guy, and my Andy is curvy and delicious but hardly what I’d call big. She probably thinks she is. But that’s a problem I can work on later.
Right now, I have an orgasm to taste.
“Remy!” she screams my name as she hits that first crest, and I smile against her sweet pussy.
That’s one.
She gasps, still breathless as I loosen my hold.
“Holy shit! That was,” she tapers off with a groan.
“Yeah,” I mutter, still licking, gently now.
She tries to close her legs, but I’m not done. I kiss her again on her mound, then I slide my hand down her stomach, teasing her entrance with one thick finger.
Her mouth opens and she moans. Loudly. Her walls squeeze my finger, trying to pull me in deeper.
Needy little thing.
“Christ, Baby, you feel that? You need me to fill you? Need my big dick stroking inside you, making you come, is that what you need, Baby?”
She whimpers. Fucking whimpers.
I’m already undoing my pants with my other hand as I pump two fingers now inside her tight channel.
I drag her ass to the edge of the couch, taking her legs and dropping them on my shoulders as I fit my cock to her entrance.
“Tell me, Andy. Tell me what you want.”
Her big eyes lock on mine, and she licks her lips.
I can see it. Her internal struggle.
The way she needs to find her courage to say the dirty things I want her to say.
I wonder if she’s ever done that before.
Talked dirty to anyone. And I decide no for two reasons.
First, I’d have to hunt down any bastard who made my Andy talk dirty, and I’d have to take his ears.
Second, the way she looks embarrassed and turned on is too real to be faked.
Still, the moment is ripe with anticipation, and I feel sweat beading on my brow as I wait. It’s killing me not to push inside, but I manage to stay still as she makes up her mind.
“Tell me,” I repeat.
“Yes, I want your cock. I need you to make me come on your big dick, Remy. Please,” she says.
And I’m through waiting.
I push inside.
Andy moans.
So do I.
I’m already half out of my mind, and I still have most of my clothes on.
Not for long.
She sits up, wrapping her legs around me as she pushes my waistband down like a woman possessed, unbuckling, unzipping, tugging me completely free as I kick off my button down and tie.
My cock thumps inside of her, but I’m not moving until I’m touching as much of her body as I can with my own.
Her eyes go wide as she traces my tattoos, and I have one second to bask in the glow of her attention before I can’t take it anymore.
“You’re so damn sexy,” she breathes.
“You too, Baby,” I rasp, pulling out all the way then lining myself back up.
“God, I forgot how good this feels.”
“Yeah? I’ll make sure you never forget this time,” I grunt.
Then I ram inside her.
Deep. Tight. Wet. Perfect.
Home.
And she implodes.
That’s two.
Andy arches, clings to me, her pussy still squeezing as her orgasm crescendos.
I fuse my lips to hers, and she moans into my mouth as I hold still, allowing her to come down a little before I begin to thrust, slow at first.
Then I go harder, and her nails dig into my back. Her hips meet mine like we’re dancing to a rhythm only our bodies understand.
My mind races with how good this feels and how much I want it to last—not just the moment—this. Us.
The front door’s still unlocked.
The windows are open.
And I don’t give a fuck.
Because the only thing that matters is Andrea.
The way she wraps around me like we were made for this.
The way her body pulses around mine like she doesn’t want to let go.
The way she sobs my name when she comes a third time—and drags me right over the edge with her.
It’s not just sex.
It never was.
And as I hold her in my arms, sweat-drenched and shaking, I know this isn’t the end.
It’s the beginning.