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“Julian?” There isn’t a response, but I stop rushing since he’s already in the apartment, tugging my underwear up my legs. Searching for a pair of shorts, I yell over my shoulder out the cracked bedroom door, “Go ahead and start the movie, I’ll be out in a minute.”
At the creak of my door opening farther I frown, spinning with the shorts in my hands. “Hey! Get ou—”
My words die on my tongue, my eyes landing on Remy. He is standing with his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his denim jeans, a dimple winking at me from his left cheek. My heart tightens painfully in my chest.I’ve always loved his damn dimples.A shaky breath leaves my lips as I try to keep my composure, confusion mixing with my elation at seeing him, cementing my feet to the carpet.
Every time I see him now, I can’t help but scan him from head to toe, see if there are any differences from the last time my eyes were on him. His almost black hair is a little longer on top but still cut short on the sides, the black tattoo peeking out of the top of his dress shirt bringing attention to the light stubble on his jaw. I can see the ache in his eyes as he looks at me, though, practically feel his need to put his hands on me and wrap me up in his space.
More importantly, I see the bruising. And the cuts.
I see the black eye and the busted lip.
“Bev, get that look off your face, I’m fine.” The deep baritone washes over me, sinking into my skin and thrumming my blood. I watch as he pulls his hands from his pockets as he moves closer, a slight limp in his stride, his left hand rising to cradle his ribs.
“What did they do to you?” It hurts looking at him, but I can’t look away. I know it’s my fault he looks like this. Julian had told me he would be punished for what we did. He didn’t go into details, but he didn’t have to.
His dark eyes sit heavily on my face, the attention tugging at my carefully placed mask of composure. “Nothing that won’t heal.”
He hisses as he lowers himself to the edge of my bed, the movement drawing my attention to a patch of blood on the light gray cotton of his shirt, and I toss my shorts back into my drawer, moving to him. “You’re bleeding.” Dropping to my knees, I reach for his shirt but he stops me with a hand on my wrist.
His grip is warm and reassuring, his thumb stroking along my pulse point as he forces my gaze up to his golden orbs. “It’s old,cuore mio.”
My heart.
The endearment hurts more than it should, clogging my throat as I gaze up at him. “Why did you come here?” It’s a whispered question, one I don’t want to ask because I wish it didn’t have to be asked. “They won’t be happy if they find out.”
He swallows, a slight narrowing of his eyes the only indication he cares about what they think. “They’re always unhappy.” He tugs me closer to him by my arm, bringing my palm to his lips. “They won’t find out. Viva expects me to be out of town and our fathers are probably getting drunk and playing poker over a job well done.”
Viva.
Her name sits in the back of my throat, bitter as bile.
The only time we ever get now is like this, in secret. Before I would have done anything to avoid spending any amount of time alone with this man, but now? I count the seconds between our stolen moments and hidden touches. They are few and far between, each one feeling a little moreforbidden.He has a wife and I’m betrothed to his brother. And seeing him now, beaten for touching me before our marriage—a marriage that never got to happen—really settles those thoughts in my mind.
I’m the other woman when I should be the only woman.
“Bev.” Remy’s deep voice pulls me out of my thoughts, bringing my attention back to him. “It’s fine.I promise.”
I nod, lightly tugging my fingers from his grasp to stand up. “I think Julian has a pair of sweats here you can change into.” I pause, my eyes wide. “Shit, Julian is supposed to be coming over—”
“I sent him on a job across the city,” he interrupts, grimacing as he reaches back to grab the back of his shirt to tug over his head. “He won’t be coming over tonight.”
Letting out the breath I was holding I nod while watching Remy shift uncomfortably out of his pants. I move forward and grab the edge of his cuffs, meeting his gaze as I help pull them the rest of the way down his legs to drop on the floor.
“Come here,cuore mio,” he says to my kneeling form, his voice stroking along my skin.
I do as he instructs, stepping up between his thighs. He’s just wearing his briefs now and all the cuts and nicks and bruises covering his inked body are on full display. His fingers chuck me under the when my eyes linger on them for too long, twinning our fingers together once my eyes meet his. I lean forward so he doesn’t have to, lightly pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips that isn’t busted. My heart thumps at the warm, sweet smell of his skin, familiar and safe.
Softly pulling his hands from mine, he runs a palm along the outside of my bare thighs. He leans down to press his lips on mine for another whisper of a kiss.“Siamo solo io e te ora, il mio cuore.”It’s just you and me now, my heart.His lips brush mine as he speaks, and I suppress a shiver as they move to my jaw and trail along my neck to our matching tattoo. After placing a kiss on the ink, his lips skim the shell of my ear. “It’s been a long day, I don’t want to talk about them anymore. I just wantyou.”
I turn my face toward his, pulling his lips to mine with my fingers at his nape. His fingers are biting into the flesh of my thighs, meeting my soft, desperate kisses with his own. My palms cup his jaw and run along the thick column of his throat, scared to touch him in a spot where he’s hurt. But Remy isn’t having any of it, reaching down to grab the backs of my thighs and tugging me up onto him so that my legs straddle his waist. He hisses with the movement, maneuvering us backward until he’s resting against the headboard, but he won’t let me pull away, his hands running up the back of my shirt, warm palms pressing along my spine.
His fingertips pinch into my skin as he slowly pushes my shirt up, skimming my waist and ribs, thumbs running along the edge of my peaked nipples. The fabric glides over my raised arms and he tosses it away, leaning to kiss the space between my breasts as his hands squeeze my breasts in his palms. A throaty groan slips from my lips as his hot mouth sucks one of my nipples into a tight, aching bud, his teeth scraping over my sensitive flesh as he switches sides to give my other nipple just as much attention.
My hips grind against his clothed erection, palms carefully running over his broad shoulders, corded arms, and ridged stomach as I silently give us the touch we both crave, that we bothneed. I reach between us, fingers sliding along the deep V on his abdomen before gripping the waistband of his briefs. He helps me tug his briefs off the best he can, his eyes burning along my skin as he watches me tentatively grab his dick, my thumb rubbing the few drops of pre-cum along the tip as I lick my lips.
I’d never given him head before.Or anyone. But I want all of him tonight.
His touch. His sounds. His taste.Everything.
