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Letting her touch him was simply a means to an end that promised release. A temporary vacation from reality. He was an expert in physical relief without the baggage of emotion.
She must have taken his hesitation for consent as she sunk to her knees, undoing his pants.
He was hard, aching for relief since last night with Remy. He wished to god those blue orbs looking up at him were brown. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the creamy white hands pulling down his pants were dark as midnight.
Remy didn’t belong with him. He’d taint her with his evil. He wouldn’t do that to her. If he couldn’t have Remy, he would have to settle and take what he could get. He just needed something to help him forget his past for a little while.
His phone buzzed as June kissed his stomach and hooked her fingers under the elastic of his underwear. Did it make him less of a man that he’d rather see what question Remy had come up with next than allow this chick to blow him? This was wrong. She started to tug his boxers as the cell pinged again.
“Stop.” He grabbed it off the floor.
Remy: I need help.
Remy: Green Park. Baseball field.
Panic seized his body as the jolt of adrenaline shot through him. He wrenched his pants on.
“Baby—”
“I gotta go,” he said, on his way out the door as he buttoned the waist.
Remy was in trouble. What if he was too late? It was dark and she was in the park. Was she alone? Was she hurt? Fear and doubt swirled in his mind as he peeled onto the road, speeding towards the address. One thing was certain: if anyone touched her, he would kill them with his bare hands. He would murder again if it meant keeping her safe.
