Remington

by Silvia Violet

  I never believed I would find someone who meant as much to me as Marjorie meant to my father, but if what they felt was more intense than the complete shattering of my soul I’d just experienced, I don’t know how they survived it.

  I was in so much trouble.

  Eventually I summoned the strength to move. I pushed back onto my knees and Henri gasped as my cock slid from his ass. I reached my arms under him and pulled him up until he was kneeling in front of me and I could reach between his legs to feel my cum sliding from his body. I used my fingers to push some of it back into him.

  He drew in a ragged breath. “I can’t believe… That was so much more than…”

  I pressed my lips to his neck. “Shhh. Don’t try to talk. Just feel my cum sliding from your ass and coating your thighs. I’ve marked you, made you mine.”

  I slid my finger along his inner thigh scooping up more of my seed, then brought my fingers to his mouth. I thought he might protest, but he didn’t. He just sucked them between his lips as he wrapped a hand around my wrist like he was afraid I would take my hand away. He licked and sucked until my fingers were thoroughly cleaned.

  “I want to keep you here just like this.” I stopped myself before adding forever.

  “I don’t think I can move anyway.”

  I smiled. I wanted to leave my cum on him so it would dry on his skin. I wanted him to remember this moment when he woke tomorrow, but I knew he’d feel better if I cleaned him up, so with one more kiss to the tender skin of his neck, I eased him back down to the mattress. “I’m going to get something to clean you up. I’ll be right back.”

  He was mostly asleep when I returned, but he woke when I ran the warm cloth over his ass.

  “Sore?” I asked.

  “Yes, but I don’t mind.”

  “That’s good because I’m not going to be able to wait long before we do that again.”

  “I don’t want you to. Are you… Do you want me to stay here?”

  I tensed. “You’re not leaving. You made a bargain with me.”

  “No, I mean here in your bed to sleep with you, like actually sleep.”

  “When I put you in my bed, you don’t leave it until I tell you to.” Which if I had my way would be never. Sadly, that wasn’t realistic. I couldn’t actually take two weeks to indulge myself, but maybe, having figured out a plan with X, I could take one day.

  The next morning, I woke soon after sunrise. I wasn’t used to many hours of sleep. No matter how late I’d worked or played the night before, I was usually up early.

  Henri was still sound asleep. He was on his back with one knee bent and his arms flopped above his head. All I would have to do was get between his legs, and I could push right into him. I considered it, then decided I wanted to watch him for a while. I traced patterns over his chest and his abdomen, but I didn’t touch his dick, which was half-hard and so very inviting.

  I wanted to know how he felt in my mouth. I wanted to know everything about him. I was obsessed. I knew that was dangerous, but I couldn’t make myself care. My touch must’ve tickled him as I slid my fingers along the thin skin above his hip bones. He squirmed and turned over on his side, making a muffled protest.

  I pulled him to me, fitting my body against his and letting my now fully hard cock rest against the seam of his ass. I wanted him again, but I also had plans for us, so I just enjoyed the feel of him against me. His skin was chilly at first. I liked to sleep in a cold room, even though it made stepping out into the muggy New Orleans heat feel all that much worse. My body heat warned him, and he sighed and wriggled against me, making it all that much harder for me not to reach for the lube, slick myself up, and push inside him. Would he enjoy waking like that?

  Eventually, knowing I had to give into at least one of my urges, I encouraged him to roll onto his back again, then I slid under the covers, positioning myself between his legs. I licked and kissed the length of his cock before pulling him into my mouth. I could tell the moment he woke. He tensed, then reached down, sliding his hands into my hair.

  “What are you doing?”

  I looked up, letting his cock slide from my mouth. “I think you can figure it out.”

  “But I didn’t… I thought you wouldn’t…”

  I teased his head with my tongue and pushed it into the slit, eliciting a whimper. “You thought I wouldn’t want to suck your cock? I want to do everything to you. I love seeing you lose control.”

  “I don’t think I’ve been in control of anything since I walked up to your car.”

  “I paid you to use your phone, and I think you know I didn’t have to.”

  He looked away and nodded slowly. “Like I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe with me.”

  He looked back at me then. “I know.”

  Those soft words made me want to give him pleasure beyond anything he’d ever imagined. I took his cock back into my mouth and sucked until he cried out and I swallowed down his release.

  “Breakfast?” I asked, licking my lips.

  “What about… what about you? You didn’t…”

  How had he survived on the streets when he didn’t even want to ask me if I’d come? “Maybe that was the breakfast I was referring to.”

  He laughed. “Is it?”

  “No. I have something special planned. I won’t say it’s better, but you’ll enjoy it.”

  He smiled and his eyes held so much wonder it made me suck in my breath. “You keep surprising me.”

  “Good. Let’s shower. You can take care of me in there.”

  14

  Henri

  After our long luxurious shower, which resulted in another orgasm for me as well as one for Remington, he chose an outfit for me—black pants that hugged me perfectly and a soft, honest-to-God cashmere sweater in a shade of teal he said was just right for my eyes. He also offered me a buttery soft leather jacket since it was chilly, at least by New Orleans’s standards.

  Remington dressed in gray pants and a white cable knit sweater that made his tan skin look even darker. After one last look in the mirror, he took my hand to lead me downstairs. “Don’t you need a jacket?”

  He smiled back at me. “I don’t let weather dictate my fashion choices.”

  I rolled my eyes and followed him down the narrow staircase.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as he closed the front door behind us.

  “You’ll see when we get there.”

  “You like surprising me, don’t you?”

  He studied me for a moment. “Why do I feel like there are a lot of layers to that question?”

  I grinned. “I don’t know. I’m just a simple guy.”

  He scoffed and shook his head. “No. You definitely are not.”

  I tried not to get too excited by the idea that Remington saw more of me than the asshole who dumped me when my mom got sick, more than my cousin who thought giving me a way to make a quick buck was true friendship, and so much more than any of the other men who’d hired me. Everyone saw what they wanted to, and they took what they could get. It wasn’t that Remington wasn’t willing to take; it was just that he so obviously knew there was more to me, and that made it easier to give him exactly what he wanted. He was exactly the kind of man I’d fantasized about but didn’t think existed in reality, but if I was with him long enough, I’d surely see some side of him that would make him real, not fantastical.

  That wasn’t going to happen right now, though, because he was leading me to Café DuMonde. “You’re taking me to get beignets?”

  He smiled. “Yes, I decided you needed to experience them directly from the source.”

  He found us a table under the green-and-white-striped awning. Within seconds a waitress appeared. Her wide eyes and the way it took her a few minutes to start talking let me know she was enamored with Remington, and why wouldn’t she be?

  “Two orders of beignets and two cafe au laits,” he said.

  “Yes, sir.” She gave him a smile and a quick onc
e-over, then hurried off.

  I was grinning when he looked at me.

  “What?”

  “You do realize how incredibly hot you are, right?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “So it’s normal for you to be fawned over?”

  He laughed. “Yes. I can’t say I dislike it.”

  “Well, I do.” The words were out of my mouth before I thought them through clearly. “I mean… it makes me feel like I’m not doing a good enough job to distract you. That’s what you hired me for, right?”

  “Cher, for these two weeks, you are the only man who’s going to be in my bed. I told you I was going to work you hard. That’s because you’re going to be fulfilling all my needs.”

  I swallowed hard. “I can do that.”

  He looked at me, eyes warm and full of lust. “I believe you can.”

  Our coffee and beignets came a moment later.

  I tried to focus on the sugary treats instead of my nerves. I hoped Remington really wouldn’t want more than I could give. I wasn’t all that experienced, and I had no doubt he was used to men who knew exactly what they were doing whether they were professionals or not. He had seemed to enjoy himself when we were together, though, and he’d asked me to stay and promised to pay me an astonishing amount.

  I would do whatever was necessary to be the man he wanted. I just wished… No, I couldn’t let myself think a man like him would want to have a real relationship with me. He could have anyone he wanted.

  When we were finished and Remy had paid our bill, he stood and held out his hand. I took it, and he pulled me from my seat as if I weighed nothing.

  “Are we heading back to your house?”

  Remington shook his head. “No, I have more plans for us.”

  “Don’t you have to work today?”

  “I decided you had a good point. I’m in charge, and I can say when I work and when I don’t, so I’m taking today off.”

  I stared at him. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. I want to show you my city.”

  He said the words as if he truly held ownership over the vibrant place. Maybe with his money and power from whatever surely not-legal activities he was involved in, he felt like he did. “Why?”

  “Because I work too fucking much.”

  “No, I totally understand why you want a day off. You deserve one from what you’ve told me, but why do you want to show me around New Orleans?”

  “You said you haven’t had a chance to explore the city.”

  “But you could do anything on your day off.”

  “That’s right, and this is what I want to do.” He turned and started walking. I had no choice but to follow him.

  There had to be things he’d rather do, but I certainly wasn’t going to turn him down. The fact that he’d made plans based on what I wanted further confused my already mixed-up feelings. I told myself I should work on keeping more distance between us. My heart wasn’t going to survive him treating me like a guest instead of an employee.

  We walked along Decatur Street for a few blocks, then he stopped in front of a rundown-looking building that was probably well over a hundred years old. The sign on the door said Lefebre Books. The window display contained stacks of old books with antiquated-sounding titles like Miss Beaton’s Book of Household Management and Toilers in London: Or, Inquiries Concerning Female Labour in the Metropolis along with Mardi Gras beads, masks, and other things tourists would associate with New Orleans.

  Through the window, I also saw shelves stuffed full of books and more piles of books stacked on the floor by upholstered armchairs and antique wooden chairs. It looked like a place where you could find a secret entrance to a magical world. This was New Orleans after all. Surely if magic existed anywhere, it was here.

  “This is one of my favorite places in the city,” Remington said.

  I stared at him, surprised once again.

  “Just like you, I’m not a simple man.”

  “I know that. I’d already guessed it, but then I looked around your house yesterday.” I paused, suddenly nervous. He’d told me it was fine, but what if…

  “Did you find anything interesting?”

  “Your books.” I wanted to mention the cello, but I just couldn’t. The music room seemed like a private space. “And the cozy chair in the little sunroom. I wanted to curl up in it.

  “You’re welcome to. When we get back, maybe we both will. Find something you like, and I’ll read it to you.

  My heart pounded as he opened the door and we both stepped inside.

  15

  Remington

  I’d seen Henri gazing at the books on my shelves as I’d gotten dressed for our outing. He studied their titles and ran his fingers longingly over their spines, so I’d suspected he would enjoy the bookstore as much as I did. Watching him move through the labyrinth of shelves with a smile on his face let me know I’d been right, and the joy I found in sharing one of my favorite places with him also let me know the way I’d felt the night before hadn’t just been because of an incredible orgasm courtesy of his welcoming body.

  I was far more deeply connected to him than I’d intended to be. What if he truly was that special person for me? How could I possibly take the time for a relationship when so many people were relying on me, when I had to be so careful to show my strength, when I knew that anyone who was with me would constantly be in danger?

  If I cared about Henri, wouldn’t it be best for me to let him go? I could make sure he was taken care of by helping him find a job where he would be safe. That sounded all right until I thought of him finding someone else, someone who would care about him, someone who would love his sweet smile and want his delectable body.

  “What’s wrong?” Henri asked.

  I realized I was scowling and my hands were balled into fists. I tried to shake off the rage that had risen in me at the thought of Henri with someone else. “Nothing. I was thinking about work.”

  “You shouldn’t do that on your day off, especially if it makes you feel so angry.”

  “Then take my mind off it. Tell me something you’d like to search for, and we’ll see what we can find. If we’re going to curl up and read together, you’re going to need to choose a book.”

  “I love books, but it’s been a while since I’ve had much time to read.”

  There had to be a story behind that, maybe the same one that had led him to his current profession, but this wasn’t the time for me to encourage him to tell it. I could have gotten information like that from Blackjack, but for some reason, it felt wrong to invade Henri’s privacy. I’d asked Blackjack only to verify Henri wasn’t a spy or an ally of the Landrys.

  “When you do have time to read, what do you like? Mysteries, fantasy, romance?

  “I like history and historical fiction like you seem to. I used to enjoy thrillers that made my heart pound and kept me up turning page after page, but then my life got kind of scary and that seemed like too much.”

  That was likely part of his story too. “Lefebre’s has an excellent selection of historical books, both those written in the past and those written about it. They’re on the second floor. Come on.”

  I sent him up ahead of me simply because I wanted to watch his round ass in his perfectly fitted pants. That was a mistake. I immediately started contemplating whether we could find a quiet corner where I could do some of the filthy things I was thinking about with him.

  That was a risk I couldn’t take. I had big plans for the Landrys and their allies, which meant I needed to keep a low profile with law enforcement. I couldn’t run the risk of getting arrested for public sex. Maybe another time we could come back and I could indulge—

  I stopped myself before I completed the thought. He was only mine for two weeks. I could always bring someone else here, but that held no appeal. Henri understood the call of this place. It wouldn’t be any fun to debauch someone here who’d just as soon hook up in a club bathroom.

  I led He
nri to the history section, and after much perusal he chose a book about New Orleans at the start of the twentieth century. I found a beautiful collection of photographs of historic homes in rural south Louisiana. I paid for the books, and we continued down Decatur Street.

  Henri stopped suddenly in front of an antiques shop that had a silver tea set surrounded by lots of smaller silver pieces in a window display. “These are gorgeous.”

  The shop was filled with all kinds of things that might be located an estate sale, and I could tell he was intrigued. “Would you like to go in?”

  “I would enjoy that, but if you—”

  “I’m here to show you the city. Let’s explore.”

  I insisted on purchasing Henri a tea set and some candlesticks he clearly longed for. Once our items were wrapped up, we continued exploring the Quarter. I took him into a voodoo shop that was run by authentic practitioners unlike most of the more touristy shops.

  When it was lunchtime, I brought him to a little café that, in my opinion, had the best muffalettas in town.

  He seemed as impressed with them as I was. We lingered over lunch, sharing a praline sundae and doing plenty of people watching. During the rest of the afternoon, I took him into Jackson Cathedral, bought him a sketch from one of the street artists in Jackson Square, and gave him a tour of the World War II museum.

  I enjoyed everything we experienced, but none of it compared to curling up with him in my favorite chair when we got home. Just spending time being close to him made me as happy as the hottest sex I’d had with other men.

  Lounging at home with Henri felt so domestic. Other than exercising my skills in the kitchen, that wasn’t like me. Henri was bringing out parts of me I’d pushed aside. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d enjoyed a day more. It might not have happened since the Christmases of my childhood or during carefree summer days my family spent at a beach resort along the Mississippi coast.