Chapter 3 Bash #2
“I’ve never taken it off since… since she died,” she murmurs against my chest.
I feel her heartbeat like a tiny, frightened sparrow, and I don’t want to be responsible for this fear.
Releasing her from my arms is like baring my naked chest to winter. I never thought about two people molding together before they even meet, but that’s how it feels, like I ripped myself open and gave one half to her. One moment. That was all it took.
I catch a tear as it spills from the corner of her eye. “The guest room?”
She nods, and her sadness falters somewhere between her heart and her tentative smile.
I hold her hand, and she doesn’t pull away.
The bed in the purple guest room is neat, the comforter as smooth as glass, the pillows and cushions photo-shoot ready. The door to the walk-in closet is closed. The curtains are open, the skyline winking at us through the windows.
“The room has been cleaned.” I hear the disappointment in her voice before her hand slips from mine.
“The housekeeper comes in every day.”
“Of course, she does.” Remy swallows hard. “Can I check the closet?”
“Be my guest.” Fuck. Would it be too much to drop the boss hat and simply be a friend for a moment or two?
By the time I reach the walk-in closet behind her, Remy is on her hands and knees and groping around the bottom of the racks of clothes and shoes.
It tugs at my heart even more than the tears in her eyes because I’m obviously a hard bastard who has forgotten how to feel.
“Let me help.” I kneel beside her and start pulling out accessories, sifting through them for a glint of silver.
“I didn’t touch any of that stuff.” She doesn’t even look at me. “I took some sweatpants and a hoodie in the morning while…”
While? I’m confused, but it’s too ingrained in me to keep my bewilderment hidden. Remy was clearly in my guest room for a reason, a reason that my brother Cash forgot to mention during the handover when I got back earlier today. But that’s a matter to resolve later.
She swallows hard. “My sneakers weren’t wet. I think I got dressed here.” She gestures to the spot where she’s sitting back on her heels.
“Stand up.”
She does so, and I avoid tracing her body with my eyes, concentrating on the carpet where it meets the bottom of the open closets.
Nothing.
“Are you certain you lost it here?”
Her eyes narrow briefly, her expression morphing almost imperceptibly into something I can’t read. “I’ll check the bedroom.” She hesitates, waiting for my permission, and I nod once.
For a second time, I find her on her hands and knees, ass in the air as she peers underneath the bed. Fuck, I can already see her naked, those curves between my hands, her wet pussy just waiting to be sucked.
“Found it!” Remy sits back on her haunches, the silver pendant dangling from her fingers in front of her face. Her face is glowing. “Thank you.”
I shrug. “I didn’t do anything.”
Her smile falters and then fades. She stands up and tries to fasten the pendant at the back of her neck, head bent forward.
“Here, let me help.”
I stand behind her and our fingers brush as I take the two ends of the chain.
She scoops her hair away from her neck exposing pale flesh and wisps of honey-blonde hair at her nape.
My fingers tremble as I fasten the link and settle the chain around her neck, realizing too late, that I could’ve bought myself a few extra seconds if I’d held onto it.
She hesitates as if she too is clinging onto the moment.
Then, she’s facing me, her hand covering the silver teardrop, making sure that it is real. “I’ll get back to work then.”
“Sure.”
Her chest expands when she inhales a deep breath. She goes to the door and stops. Faces me, chewing her bottom lip. “That’s it then?”
“Was there something else?” I feel like I’ve handled this the wrong way, but I missed the protocol memo about when a beautiful employee loses something of sentimental value in my guest room.
She shakes her head, her smile somehow turned down at the corners and skipping her eyes completely. “No, Mr. Murray. There is nothing else.” Even her voice is turned downwards, filled with resignation.
I watch her turn around and disappear through the doorway, and it feels like goodbye when we’ve barely said hello.
I catch up with her before she reaches the foyer. “Remy?”
She halts. Several long moments pass before she faces me slowly, her eyes scanning mine, for what I’m still uncertain.
I close the distance between us before I can overthink it. My lips crush hers, and it’s as if I already knew how sweet she would taste. I fist her hair, pulling her body against mine, and she comes willingly, her arms snaking around my neck as if afraid to let me go.
“Bash,” she murmurs against my lips, my name sounding as if it belongs to her.
“Tell me to stop.”
“I… don’t want you to stop.” She touches my face, her fingertip feather-soft, and I take her hand, kiss the palm, wanting more. Desperate for more.
I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my hips.
Where to go? No time to reach my bedroom. I need her now before I explode with desire.
I stumble backwards into the living room and lay her down on the sheepskin rug. My jacket comes off. My pants are unzipped and tugged down. Remy is fumbling with her own clothes, a bonfire of fabric forming nearby.
“Fuck, Remy,” I manage when her shirt and bra gets tossed aside. “What have you done to me?”
She smiles, her fingers reaching for my infinity knot tattoo. “This.” She licks her lips and spreads her legs wide when I drag her pants and underwear down over her hips.
I shove my boxers down and my erection bobs towards her. It knows what it wants too.
“I apologize in advance.” I rub my shaft between her legs, shiny with her slick.
“For what?” Her brows furrow.
“For taking you hard and fast.”
“Hard and fast sounds perfect.” Her voice is husky.
I nudge my way inside her, just the head, enough to feel her warm wetness. “Tell me you want me.”
“I think you already know I want you.”
I lie on top of her, supporting my weight on my elbows so that I can explore her hard nipples with my fingertips. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you, Bash Murray.”
My cock throbs inside her. I grip her chin and kiss her. Her lips part, letting me in, and it’s hard to tell where my breath ends and hers begins.
“Again.” I suck her neck just below her ear. I want to taste every inch of her, knowing that this is only the start of an addiction that might prove impossible to fight.
“I want you.”
She wraps her legs around my waist, sucking me in. I feel her walls clench around me and let out a low animalistic groan.
“You better fucking believe that I want you too.”
I push deeper, grinding my groin against her, feeling her wetness on my balls.
I lick my way down to her nipples, crush her breasts with my hand, suck on the tiny hard nubs, blood pumping straight down to my loins.
Remy arches her spine, pushing her breasts into my mouth. I’d happily suffocate on her and die smiling. “I think you’ve bewitched me.”
Her chuckle sets my pulse racing. I finger the silver pendant around her neck, the thing that brought us together, and slide my shaft in all the way. Remy gasps and tilts her head backwards exposing her neck and throat to me like I’m a vampire about to sink my fangs into her.
“I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.”
“I’m Irish. Leprechauns and magic are in our blood.”
I stick my tongue in her ear, fingering her nipples, my cock pulsing when she groans softly.
This must be some kind of magic spell. I’m surrounded by beautiful women, I’ve dated plenty, had one-night stands, had several brief relationships too, but I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone on a sheepskin rug on my living room floor.
Until now.
I lower myself, crushing her breasts against my chest, and cradle her head in my arms. “Mo chailleach ailainn. My beautiful witch.”
She traces my lips with her fingertip. “I love it when you speak Gaelic.”
“Is leatsa tu.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re mine.” I suck her finger.
“Is that so?” She presses her heels into my back. “Do I get a say in it?”
“No.”
I smother her protests with kisses and grind my cock deep inside her.
I’m throbbing with a climax that isn’t prepared to wait around, so I roll over onto my back and pull her on top of me in an attempt to slow it down.
She straddles my hips and I crush her breasts with my hands, watching her slide on and off me, mesmerized.
“Fuck me, baby.”
Remy slides her feet close to my hips and bounces on my erection, her upper body supported by my hands, her wetness trickling down my length and coating my balls. Her hair finds its way out of its band and falls over her face, and she huffs it away.
But her eyes never leave mine.
Even when her breathing grows ragged, and her cheeks are rosy.
“Come for me, baby.”
She slides a hand down between her legs and finds her clit. I hear the catch in her breathing and drag her off my cock, holding her hips still while I shuffle underneath her, placing my mouth directly underneath her pussy.
“You’re throbbing.” I slide a finger inside her and lower her onto my mouth. Then I suck on her clit until her orgasm explodes on my tongue.
In slow motion, she leans forward on all fours, panting, her pussy still in my mouth, legs trembling violently.
“Stay right there.” I slide out from under her and enter her from behind. Gripping her hips, I find my rhythm, and my own climax bursts out of me faster than it has done since I was a teenager with no self-control.