Remy Roberts shouldn’t be allowed to eat pizza. It wasn’t fair. Watching her pink tongue curl around a melted strand of mozzarella cheese was its own special kind of torture, and don’t get him started on the way she licked her fingers, or what it did to him when she pulled off an olive and popped it in her mouth.
She didn’t even know she was doing it. He loved that about her.
Another thing he loved on her was that ankle chain. He’d linked silver jewellery and Remy in his mind all these years, but that dainty damn slink of gold on her foot had him rewriting his own preferences.
He’d like to see her wearing only that, nothing else. He’d like to kiss his way round it, nibble at her skin.
‘Are you done? There’s another half if you want it,’ she said.
‘As far as food goes, I’m all full up.’
He’d made her blush again. She stood to clear the plates, and he said, ‘Remy,’ once, to make her stop, and then: ‘come here, beautiful.’
Her first response was so primitive, it made her ache. When he said her name, when he held his hand out to her, she wanted to climb into his solid, strong chest and burrow there forever. She wanted to feel his big arms haul her so tight, she’d never be let go.
Except this time she didn’t need shelter or protection from a storm. It wasn’t raining and nor did she want to hide away from the world. If she was going to be with Seth, it would be as equals. Partners.
So she smiled at him, let go of her shyness, banished her fears of not being pretty enough or rich enough or good enough to keep him. There was honesty in his eyes when he called her beautiful, a raw need that dismissed her doubts.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, backing away with her hands filled with pizza plates and her smile filled with promise. ‘You come here.’
He was out of the chair in a flash, stalking across the floorboards. She barely had time to put the plates on the kitchen counter before he caught her to him, pressing her back, moulding her body to his.
He picked up a thick handful of her hair and rubbed it through his fingers, lifting it away from her neck. ‘You’ve been driving me crazy every second I’ve been inside this house. You’re all over it, everywhere around me.’
His lips found her neck and she sighed, tilting her head to give him access, wanting more of his mouth and his hands and just him …
‘Hold on,’ he whispered as his breath grazed her skin. His hands gripped her hips and he picked her up, setting her butt gently on the kitchen bench. ‘I think that’s safer.’
So their second kiss started perfect, straight off the bat. No bunted shins, no split lips. Then Remy whispered, ‘bugger being safe, Stud,’ and opened her mouth to let him in.
***
She woke to the sound of the curtain being pulled aside in her bedroom and the very first thing she did was blush.
Hell and Tommy, what a night.
She didn’t want Seth to know she was awake. She wanted a few precious seconds to relive those recent hours. It started on the kitchen bench. It ended in her bed. She was pretty sure somewhere in the middle they’d christened the couch.
‘I know you’re awake, Rem.’ He pulled the curtain completely open and bright light flooded into the room.
‘That’s so not nice,’ Remy groaned, twisting away from the light.
‘Never said I was nice.’
She giggled.
He pulled the covers back and they fought for a bit, stark naked, until all the bits of her that wobbled during wrestling games caught his attention, and made the part of him that might have wobbled not wobble at all.
Seth wrapped her up in the quilt and stopped her struggles.
‘You don’t fight fair,’ she grumbled.
‘I don’t want to fight at all. You killed my fighting mood. Come share a shower with me.’ He kissed her fingers, entwining them in his.
‘You’ve only got three minutes. I’ll have the eggtimer on you.’
‘Jeez. Can I handle the pressure?’ He tugged her arm.
The ensuite had been built beneath the low sloping roof of what had once been a verandah. Seth’s head didn’t fit beneath the shower-rose, so he had to bend his knees. Thirty seconds into their wash he gave up, dropping to those awful pink and beige tiles.
Remy squirted shampoo in her hands and lathered his hair. The shower spray washed the foaming suds away. He took the soap and rubbed her stomach, breasts, hips, thighs, making circular swirls all over her skin.
Remy leaned back against the wet wall and closed her eyes, shivering where the tiles were cold. Then he made her so hot with his hands, she needed the cool to keep her standing straight. Somewhere, late in the second minute or early in the third, his tongue replaced his fingers.
‘Like that. Oh, just like that,’ she muttered, opening her thighs wider.
She really didn’t think she could go another round this morning, she ached all over in the very best of ways, but then Seth’s tongue delved deeper, shooting waves of pleasure through her, and she changed her mind.
Gripping his shoulders, she held on hard, felt it build; roll, then rock through her, and as she shuddered to her climax, she shouted his name.
He kissed her belly button, held her through the tremors. ‘That’s gotta be some kind of record.’
‘Don’t sound so proud. You’ve got about fifteen seconds before I turn off the water and call the show and the shower over.’
Seth stood up beside her. ‘Rem, all I need is ten strokes.’
She laughed and closed her hand around him: ‘Let’s see how many times ten goes into fifteen.’