Remy(80)

Me . . . I’ve had it with the suit, with being kept away from my bride in our own home, with kissing her meekly by the altar and without using my tongue and my teeth or putting my hands on her ass. As Brooke waves to Melanie and yells, “Racer, Mommy loves you!” I pull her into the back of the limousine and reach around her to slam the door, and I finally have her all for me.

She turns, panting, to look into my eyes, her cheeks blushed pink, her eyes sparkling in excitement, and no, I will never forget today.

I reach for her while she simultaneously tries climbing on my lap and I grab her waist to help her, but she squeaks as she tries flattening the billowing skirt of her dress and we fail to get her comfortably on top of me. “I loved this dress until this moment when it won’t let me get close to you,” she complains.

“Shit, I’m so hard for you, come here.” Sliding my hand under the fall of her hair, I grab her by the neck and dive hungrily for her lips, kissing her, my tongue anxious to be touching hers. I want more. And she instantly gives me more, thirsty for me, moaning softly.

Keeping our mouths attached, I gather her closer as she strokes my hair. “I can’t wait,” she breathes. “For you to tear this dress off me.”

“I’ll send those fucking buttons flying.” My mouth waters as I drag my thumbs down her cheeks. “And I’m going to feast on you like a fucking banquet.”

“Oh yes, please.” She sets her nose on mine and sighs, her fingers playing in my hair. “We’ve never left Racer for more than two hours before. I feel like a bad mother.”

I shake my head, nuzzling her as I do. “If we don’t want to leave him and go on a honeymoon yet, you at least have to let me steal you for an evening.” I kiss her jaw. “You’re the most tender, playful mother I know, Brooke.”

She laughs. “Oh, and how many do you know?” she teases, reaching up to poke both my dimples. “To compare me to?”

Really? I know none. But the mother of my son.

God, they’re so fucking perfect, and they’re both mine.

I sometimes watch them from across the room, and my chest swells as they play around with each other. Brooke has a canny sixth sense that always knows when I stare. She always looks up, her eyes warm and sparkling with happiness at me, and I come over and pull them close to me, kissing and nuzzling them both.

“I know my mother wasn’t like you,” I whisper to her now, kissing the tip of her nose.

“And you, there’s no father like you.” She caresses the bow at my neck. “I love you so much, Remington.” She presses her face into my neck and tries getting closer to my side, dragging in a deep inhale, her voice thick, “You look so hot in that tuxedo, I’m dying to have you all to myself.”

“I get you all for me too.” I tighten my arm around her waist as I buzz my lips over her hair.

Maybe taking a honeymoon currently is impossible, especially when neither of us wants to leave Racer, but I need my wife tonight.

Quietly I kiss her forehead and her nose. Running my eyes over her features, I tip her head and scrape my thumb across her lips. “I need this,” I rasp, and set my mouth on hers.

She rubs my tongue to hers and sighs as I slip my fingers into her hair and loosen the crystal clips scattered throughout. Pulling each raindrop-shaped crystal from her hair, I tuck them into my jacket pocket while I slowly savor her mouth and kiss her all the way to the hotel, until neither of us is breathing right by the time we arrive.

The moment we walk into the lobby, a dozen curious stares land on us, and they’re soon followed by claps and cheers as I take her by the hand and lead her to the elevators.

“Many years, man!” someone shouts.

“Cheers to the bride and groom!”

Brooke laughs, and I’m chuckling too as I pull her into the elevator with me and then bury my face in her neck, smelling her as we head to the top floor.

“I want to eat you,” I growl, sliding my fingers under her hair again. Her eyes darken as she reaches for my free hand and spreads it over her heart.

“Are you going to kiss me here?” She forces my fingers to curve around the round flesh of one perky little tit.

I nod.

Then she lifts that same hand to her mouth and sets a kiss on my palm. “And here?”

I nod again.

Her smile matches mine in mischief as she slides my hand down her abdomen and to the bell of her skirt, then she laughs and pushes up on her toes. “What about . . . there?”

I tip her head back. “Your pussy is getting kissed tonight for sure.”

Her lips curve in pure delight and I have to take them and kiss her, stopping only when we hear the Ting.