Remy(26)

We arrive at the hotel and I book her into the two-bedroom Presidential Suite.

“You sure about this?” Pete asks.

I nod and glance at Brooke, her eyes slightly widening when I hand her a keycard from my set.

My thumb brushes her, and her eyes clasp mine, questioning. I look back and hope she reads me, willing her to know what I want tonight. If she’s not ready, I hope to hell she’ll say something now.

But she doesn’t. She takes the keycard and smiles, her smile radiant and shy, and she brushes back my thumb with hers. That, right there, was no fucking accident. Not the way she smiles, or touches me, or looks at me with a kind of bring it look that sets me on fire.

My brain starts running a mile a minute as we go upstairs to wait for our suitcases.

“What a pretty view,” she says when we enter the living room. The door shuts behind me. We’re alone. I’m suddenly doing her on the couch. The dining table. The floor. I’m tearing off her clothes. I’m sinking my cock in her and my teeth in her skin . . . my lips are on her neck and all I smell is her.

But, no, there she stands, looking outside.

Brooke Dumas.

The only woman I want.

I’m bursting the zipper of my jeans. I’ve had groupies in my rooms, naked, sliding their hands up my abs and my chest. Nothing hits me like seeing Brooke in my room, in her bouncy ponytail, looking excited and . . . happy.

She’s happy because she’s with you.

My heart kicks. I curl my hands into my palms and watch her peer nervously out the window, her teeth digging into her lower lip.

I have a fight tonight.

I can’t wait for her to watch me win.

Then . . . watch me make love to her.

Heart pounding hard inside me, I walk to her, tip her head and angle it, so her ear is titled to my mouth. I lean and lick it, earlobe up to the shell, then I dip my tongue into the crevice and tell her, “I hope you’re ready for me. I sure as hell am ready for you.”

♥ ♥ ♥

“COME HERE, MR. Fucking Miami!” A few guys swing me up on their shoulders and carry me into the Presidential Suite after the fight, and my restless eyes scan the room for my dark-haired goddess.

“Remy! Remyyyy!” they yell as they launch and catch me.

Some days, my fists just have their own will.

Today is one of those days.

Miami fucking loves me for kicking the shit out of every poor motherfucker put in my way.

Lightning courses through my veins.

Hell, if I lifted my hands and pushed out the heel of my palms, I’m sure I’d be shooting our spiderwebs.

“That’s right, who’s the man?” I shout, slamming my fists to my chest. I got Brooke, I’m the fucking champion! People crowd the suite, and when I finally spot my woman, my eyes lock to her. She stands there watching me, her breasts rising and falling, making me drool. Her eyes shine and her smile lights up her entire face, and the hunger rips through me like talons. Holy god, I want her. “Brooke.”

I hop down and call her over with the slow crook of one finger, and she starts over. My heart pounds with each of her steps and I swear she can’t reach me soon enough, so I meet her halfway, and the moment she’s close enough to touch, I lift her in my arms, spin her around, and crush her lips under mine.

My blood sizzles as her small body melts into my bigger one, her mouth soft and as hungry as mine.

“Go fuck that pussy!” I hear some dipshit yell. I pull free, immediately pissed off. I don’t like anyone talking about her like that. I don’t like anyone even near her. I pull her closer and into her ear whisper, “You’re mine tonight.”

Her moan makes me close my eyes, and I cup her face and take her mouth again. I can’t resist her anymore, she’s got my willpower in shreds. I take it slowly, knowing we’re being watched, but telling her the same thing over and over: “Tonight you’re mine.”

I want her now. I want everyone to leave us.

“Remy, I want you, take me!” someone shouts.

Brooke’s eyes widen, and I want to tell her the only woman I’m taking from now on is her. Instead I stroke her face with my thumbs and kiss her again. I can’t stop. She gets me high and I’ve been buzzed all day since I signed her into the room with me. She’s warm and presses into me, her mouth hungry, killing me.

“Take her to your room, Tate!”

I hold her closer and tuck a strand of loose hair behind her, then I kiss the bare curve between her neck and collarbone, nuzzling near her ear, hearing myself murmur, “Mine. Tonight.”

“So are you.” With a tenderness no one ever uses on me, Brooke cups my jaw and holds my gaze, and then I’m grabbed from behind and swung in the air.