Chapter 11
REMI
Remi never wanted to leave their hotel room.
Her night with Paige was completely unexpected, but even better than her wildest dreams. She’s always loved taking the lead and ensuring her partner’s pleasure comes first. She could tell Paige was nervous about touching her, so she reassured her she didn’t have to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.
And Remi truly doesn’t mind. She loves taking care of Paige. She makes the prettiest sounds, and there’s no sight better than Paige when she comes.
“I’ve always wondered what this tattoo was.
” Paige is on her side, lying next to Remi.
She’s wearing one of Remi’s T-shirts and a pair of lacy pink underwear.
Her fingers push aside Remi’s muscle tee, ghosting over the colorful ink on her left shoulder blade.
It’s the sun rising over mountaintops all captured within a carabiner. “It’s so cool.”
“Thank you.” Remi smiles. Her head rests on her folded arms as she lies on her belly beside Paige.
The morning after the wedding, Remi drove them home, and they spent the day together in her apartment watching movies, talking, and ordering takeout. For the past week, every minute that hasn’t been spent at work has been spent together.
They climbed once—instead of their usual three times—and went out to dinner last night. They even had an impromptu movie night with Elena on Thursday, where she way too smugly whispered “I told you so” when Paige was in the bathroom. Remi threw popcorn at her head.
Still, the vast majority of their time together has occurred here inside Remi’s apartment—primarily in her bed.
“Do you have any tattoos?” Remi asks.
Paige shakes her head. “I’m too much of a wimp to voluntarily sign up for pain.”
Remi laughs. “That’s fair.”
“So, you have that and this—” Paige reaches over to stroke the bird tattoo behind Remi’s right ear. “Do you have any more?”
“Well, I have one on my foot and”—Remi smirks, far too knowing as she sits up on her elbows—“one other.”
Paige lifts an eyebrow. “Is it a secret?”
“It’s not.”
“Is it tiny?”
Remi shakes her head. “It’s pretty big.”
Paige’s forehead scrunches adorably as she thinks. “Well, I understand missing the one on your foot since you’re always wearing socks, but there’s no way I’m also missing a big secret tattoo.”
“It’s not a secret. It’s just hidden.” Remi wiggles her eyebrows.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
Paige frowns in thought, then gasps, her gaze dropping to Remi’s shorts. She hasn’t taken them off in front of Paige yet because she doesn’t want her to feel any pressure to reciprocate when they hook up.
Paige’s skin flushes a bright pink. “Oh.”
Remi grins. “Yep.”
A beat passes.
“Can I see?”
They’re completely alone in Remi’s apartment—Elena is at her boyfriend’s—while they wait for the Chinese takeout they ordered. An episode of New Girl plays forgotten in the background. There’s no reason to whisper, but Remi finds it so cute that Paige did.
Remi licks her lips. “I’ll have to take my shorts completely off. Is that okay?”
Paige hesitates only a moment before she nods.
Remi pushes up to stand beside her bed. The sun doesn’t set until after nine pm in Michigan over the summer, so between the bright light streaming in from her window and the overhead light, she feels oddly on display as she bends to lower her shorts to her ankles.
They are the kind with a built-in liner so she’s not wearing any underwear, and she has to resist the urge to cover herself.
Paige’s mouth falls open at the intricate linework of the rose tattoo that trails from Remi’s hip to her inner thigh. “Wow, Remi, that’s …”
“It’s definitely my more impressive one,” Remi says, and bends to redress.
“Wait.”
She pauses.
“Can you come … closer?”
She hesitates. The words “are you sure” are on the tip of her tongue. Paige reads her mind and nods before she can put a voice to them. Remi takes a steadying breath and crawls onto the bed until she’s lying beside Paige, their thighs pressed together.
“Did you want a better view of it?” Remi asks, trying to keep her voice light and teasing, but arousal pulses within her. She can already feel how slick she is between her thighs. Can Paige see it?
A part of her wants her to.
A part of her wants to find out what she might do.
“Something like that.” Paige hovers her hand over Remi’s leg, then catches her eye, asking for permission. Remi gives it. Paige’s fingers lightly caress a petal on the top rose. Her touch slides down the stem to the middle flower.
Remi’s breath catches.
Paige’s finger traces several leaves before dipping down.
Remi spreads her legs.
Paige follows the path to the last rose tucked between her thighs. Despite her best efforts, a small, shuddering sigh falls from her lips. Paige’s gaze snaps up to Remi’s. Her eyes are wide and full of curiosity. Remi’s afraid to speak, to break the tension building between them.
Paige’s finger doesn’t leave the tattoo.
She holds eye contact as she slowly drags up, trailing across Remi’s thigh to her hip, then across. She strokes down Remi’s other thigh before slowly moving in.
Remi’s legs start to shake. Anticipation makes her skin buzz with equal measures of want and desire.
Paige stops, an inch shy of Remi’s center. Her eyes widen and her shoulders tense in a way Remi recognizes. It’s how Paige looks every time she’s internally freaking out about something.
Cupping Paige’s cheek, Remi pulls her into a deep kiss. Paige groans softly when Remi sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. The kiss is long and hard. By the time they eventually pull back, Paige’s eyes are shut, and she has a dazed look on her face.
“It’s okay,” Remi whispers. “You don’t have to.”
“I know, but I … I want to.”
Remi’s clit twitches. Paige’s hand never left its place between her legs.
“I just want to make sure I don’t … do it wrong.”
Remi cradles Paige’s face in both her hands. “That’s not possible. Do you want me to talk you through it?”
Paige smiles shyly and nods almost imperceptibly.
Remi kisses her again, softer and slower this time. Paige relaxes, her body melting against Remi’s. Gently, Remi rests her hand atop hers. Without breaking their kiss, she guides Paige up until Paige’s fingers slide through her arousal.
“Start here,” Remi whispers against her lips.
Paige’s breath comes in shuddering little gasps as her fingers explore. Remi’s legs spread further for her. They stare into one another’s eyes. Paige teases Remi’s entrance, and she gasps. A flicker of doubt crosses Paige’s face. Remi cups the back of her neck so she can’t pull away.
“Look at me,” she says. “You’re doing great.”
Paige swallows.
“Everyone’s different, but I like”—she eases Paige’s hand up, enjoying the delicious touch of her finger sliding through her folds until Paige finds her swollen and needy clit—“to be touched here. Take one or two fingers and start slow, making wide cir—fuck.”
Paige doesn’t hesitate. Her touch is the perfect pressure as she circles Remi’s clit. Remi’s belly tightens as her fingers fist the sheet.
“Like this?” There’s a light teasing edge to Paige’s tone that catches Remi off guard.
“G-god, yes.” Her hips rock, craving more. “That’s—shit. You’re doing so—fuck—good.”
She writhes beneath Paige, moans tumbling from her mouth, as Paige’s fingers press harder, the pace quickening.
“Yes, just … like that,” she pants. “Then you can—holy fucking shit.”
Paige’s eyes darken. “Can I use my mouth?”
The question alone nearly tips her over the edge. “F-fuck. Y—” Her thighs tremble, and she can no longer form words.
The rhythm of Paige’s fingers slows as she pushes up onto her knees. She doesn’t move, waiting for consent. The lack of intensity on her clit has her heart rate slowing enough to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Paige’s ear.
“Princess, you can do whatever you want to me.”
The corner of Paige’s mouth quirks, and she lowers herself between Remi’s legs. Paige kisses the middle rose on Remi’s thigh. “This is such a pretty tattoo.”
The sight of Paige looking up at her, only the top half of her gorgeous face visible, is so erotic she nearly comes.
Paige resumes kissing and licking Remi’s thigh, slowly working her way toward her center. Remi lets out a low, throaty whine. Her phone dings with a notification from their delivery driver; she ignores it. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as her hips squirm.
Her phone dings again.
“Do you need to check that?” Paige asks.
“Fuck no.”
Their food is here, but she couldn’t care less what happens to it—he can leave it at the door or steal it—she doesn’t give a single fuck. She’s not letting anything interrupt this moment with Paige.
When her phone goes off again, she throws out a frustrated hand, knocking it to the floor.
“Don’t. Stop,” she gasps.
Paige giggles. Her breath tickles Remi’s clit, making her hips buck.
“Shit. Sorry.” Remi covers both her eyes with her fists as she tries to regain some self-control.
“Don’t apologize,” Paige says. “I like seeing you like this.”
Paige kisses the spot just right of where Remi is aching for her. Remi lets out a throaty whine.
My god. This woman is going to kill me, she thinks.
“Paige,” Remi whimpers.
Paige doesn’t respond, but she does wrap two hands around Remi’s hips, holding her in place as she covers Remi’s pulsing clit with her mouth. It’s an electric shock of pleasure that has Remi’s back arching off the mattress and a string of curses spilling from her lips.
Paige sucks, and Remi sees stars.
“Good, god, yes!” Remi threads her fingers through Paige’s long hair. Paige glances up, meeting Remi’s eye. She holds contact as she presses her tongue flat against Remi.
Remi’s lips form an “O” as she attempts to breathe through the pleasure, wanting to ride this high out for as long as she can.
“Good. That’s so fucking … good,” she groans. “Now, take your finger and—oh, fuck!”
Paige doesn’t need further instruction. The second she said ‘finger,’ Paige was moving her hand. Two digits push into her, an intoxicating intrusion her body wants more of.