by Olivia Harp
"Hey there," he said in his deep voice.
"Hi."
"Thought I could come over and chill with you, see if you needed anything."
"It's fine," she said, then looked at the bags.
"Didn't see your mom's car."
"I asked her to stay home. I don't want her getting sick."
"Works for me."
She shrugged. It worked for everyone now that he was here.
"Are you hungry? Brought you dinner, too."
She smiled. She could hug him right now, no one had ever treated her like that.
"Yes."
"Brought two dinners, actually… can I come in?"
"You're going to get sick."
He shrugged, "just a cold, right?"
"I don't want you to—"
"You don't want me to come inside?"
"I do, but—"
"You're gonna let me starve to death out here? Really Jules Crawford?"
She smiled and stepped aside, giving him a hug as he walked into her house.
***
She was feeling better already, eating hot chicken soup and being with her man.
They sat on the couch, in front of the television. The night was perfect for that. Cozy up together and watch a movie. Too bad there was nothing interesting on.
"We could watch the Lord of the Rings," she said.
He shrugged, "okay."
"You don't like it?"
"Haven't seen it."
She froze.
"Oh my God, are you serious?"
He turned to her, his head buried in the back of the sofa.
"It never caught my attention—"
"What planet are you from?"
She jumped from the sofa and grabbed the DVD box set, pulling The Fellowship of the Ring disc out.
"This is the best movie trilogy of all time. We're watching it right now."
He sighed, waiting for her to put it on, then raised his hands to hug her.
"Nothing like spending nine hours straight watching the director’s cut with my man," she said.
"I'm sure I'm going to love it."
She was so giddy she had the chance to share this experience with Remy.
She sat back on the sofa, he didn't know what was coming.
The screen turned black and the voice-over started. She finished the last of her dinner and Remy put his arm around her, snuggling like this with him was the most awesome weekend idea they'd had.
His body warmed her so perfectly. Then she realized. She hadn't sneezed in over an hour. She was definitely getting better.
A few minutes later she fell asleep.
Chapter 27
Remy
The film ended, credits rolled, he was still stunned.
"But—"
He turned to see her and realized she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, which was now covered in drool.
He moved away silently, stood up and lifted her in his arms. He did it slowly, to prevent her from waking up. He was in the middle of the stairs when she did.
"Hey, did I fall asleep?"
"Don't worry honey, you need to rest."
"Oh, shoot, I wanted to—"
She yawned and he brought her closer to his chest, she placed her head against it and fell asleep again.
Her door was open, thankfully, so it was easy for him to lay her on the bed and tuck her in.
He then turned back to the door.
"Are you leaving?" She said, still half asleep.
"I'll be right back, honey."
She smiled and rested her head back on her pillow, trying and failing to stay awake.
Remy went downstairs and cleaned up the little mess they made, washed the dishes and just leaned on the sink, looking through the window to the backyard.
I'm fucked.
He didn't want to accept it, but it was undeniable. No more excuses. Damn.
He loved her.
Chapter 28
Remy
The sound of her voice woke him up. She was singing in the bathroom.
Whenever he thought of a happy couple, he thought of wild sex, travelling, a great social life… but this turned everything upside down.
He could listen to the sweet sound of her voice all day.
She came out of the bathroom wearing a robe, wrapping a towel on her head. She looked happy, her smile brightening the room.
"Good morning, sunshine," she said.
"How are you feeling?"
"Much better."
She walked around the room, picking stuff up, putting on some makeup.
"Where are you going?"
She turned to him, putting lipstick on.
"I need to do some errands for the gala tonight."
Oh shit. Yeah.
"I thought you weren't going."
"I wasn't, but I don't want to leave everything to Veronica. I feel bad for the poor girl."
He sat on the bed, still groggy. Faint drizzle still crashed against the back window, dark clouds still clogged the sky.
"So," she said, completely serious, sitting on the edge of the bed, placing her hands on his knees, "did you like it?"
"Did I like—"
"The Fellowship of the Ring!"
"Oh? Oh…" that was enough to bring him out of his state into complete wakefulness, "God, it was so awesome—"
"Told you!"
"But seriously, fucking Boromir! And Gandalf! Why?"
She burst out laughing, "Yes! I was waiting for you to mention it!"
"He died! I mean, it's freaking Gandalf! How could he—"
"We need to watch the rest of them."
"I'll watch them right now."
"No, wait for me!"
"You've already seen them!"
"No, Mr. Morgan, I won't allow it, I want to see them with you."
"What do you want me to do all day? You're going to be busy."
She averted her eyes, biting her lip. Something was up.
"What if…"
She went silent, thinking about it, he was patient, but curiosity got the best of him.
"Spit it out, Jules."
She locked eyes with him.
"What would you say… if I asked you to go with me?"
Every hair in his body bristled. This was exactly what he wanted. He was tired of hiding.
"Are you sure?"
She moved a bit closer, he tried to kiss her but she moved away.
"Not getting you sick. And yes, I'm sure."
He held her hand.
"I'll be honored to join you, milady."
"Good," she said, and gave him a kiss on the forehead, she tried to stand up but he pulled her to him, fusing his lips with hers.
She tried to fight him at first, but he knew she was just faking it. Her lips told the truth. She was into the kiss as much as he was.
After a few moments, she jumped back.
"Remy, you need to stay healthy."
"I love your germs."
"Gross!" She laughed, and threw a pillow at him.
He grabbed her by the waist and brought her to the bed, his hand slowly grazing her leg, feeling the goose flesh rising on her skin.
She was suddenly silent, the sound of her breathing fused with the soft rain in the background, the atmosphere completely changed.
Remy kissed her again, slower this time, taking off the towel on her head and throwing it away. Her damp hair smelled delicious, her whole body just called to him. She belonged to him, after all.
He slowly pulled her robe down, undoing the knot on her waist, kissing her chest and belly. Feeling her hand on the back of his head, seeing how she was losing herself in the moment.
"I couldn't be without you yesterday," he whispered as he kissed her waist and legs and the sides of her belly again.
"Me neither."
He kissed her chest, cupping his hands around her breasts, careful not to touch her nipples. He wanted to feel her skin on his face, on his lips, beneath his hands.
He bre
athed her skin again, as he travelled further up, kissing her neck and earlobes, softly biting her shoulders.
She moaned, and that sound was all he needed to be completely, unabashedly fucking hard.
This was perfection.
"I need to leave," she whispered.
"Veronica can wait a little longer."
She moaned again as he kissed her lower neck, his hand on her cheek, then going over his breast again, taking it all, pressing it softly. He wanted to take her. To make her say she belonged to him.
Because he knew it, in his heart. I belong to her too.
His tongue rolled on her hot skin and finally reached her nipples, going slowly from the outside in, until he reached her center spot, making her gasp in pleasure.
"I missed you," she said.
"I missed you too."
He kissed and licked and softly nibbled at her other nipple. Then pushed them together and pressed his face against them.
She was more than he'd ever asked. More than he deserved. His enemy. His lover. Life had a way to make things like this happen. The best things happen in the oddest of circumstances.
***
The touch of his lips always made her heart melt. She didn't want to kiss him but he didn't care and she couldn't fight it any longer.
He explored her body with his hands and tongue, turning her on from the moment he set her on the bed.
Remy went further down, below her navel, kissing her waist and thighs, from the outside in. Her body was on fire.
Yesterday morning she just wanted to lay in bed and sleep. Today, she felt better much, much better.
Another moan escaped her lips.
His tongue rolled from her right knee to her center, then passed right above her folds, to the other side of her thighs.
He was teasing her. And he was good at it, too. Remy kissed her just outside her crease. And she could no longer bear the wait. She was soaking wet.
"I want to taste you," he whispered, and his words made her shiver.
She could almost smell her own lust. Thunder echoed from far away, and being right here, in this warm place with him seemed like the only thing that truly mattered.
His tongue grazed her lips and she quivered, her moan filling the room. She'd never felt so wanted, so needed… so completely desired.
He moved down and tasted her slit, her juices dripping down on his tongue, she should've been embarrassed. He had just begun and she was already so wet.
But she wasn't. Not at all. She was turned on even harder.
Her body spasmed away from him, he was tasting her most sensitive spot, she couldn't control it, but his hands held her in place and suddenly his tongue rolled up and down her slit, stopping for a second before grazing her clit, a second that seemed to last an eternity.
Oh, God.
And when he did, delight rippled throughout her body, making her yell.
He tasted her up and down, up and down, taking in all of her juices, her slit damp with his saliva and her own lust.
When he focused on her spot, she was already too far gone, her hands bolted to press his face against her, his mouth open, his tongue going up and down, and inside of her.
She opened her eyes and her room seemed completely new. She'd never done it this early. She didn't have that much experience anyway, didn't have many flings.
But this man had ruined her. She wasn't like this. She enjoyed sex, just like everyone else but Remy drove her crazy. He touched her exactly how she needed to be touched. It was as if he could read her mind—
"Oww…" She moaned again, loudly.
His tongue was focused on her clit, the electric sensation of her orgasm building up in her center. She wanted to feel him inside before she finished.
He licked her again, hard and dirty, there was no romance there, only the need to have her in his mouth.
"You're going to come in my mouth," he said, his rough hand going up to her chest, holding her on the bed, "then I'm going to come inside you."
Before she could answer he was rolling and lapping his wet, hot tongue on her clit. She tried to press her knees together, so she could hold on for a little longer, lose herself in this sensation, but then he kissed her nub and licked her slit again.
It broke her. It was more than enough. She exploded and it was like a dam breaking. Her body shook violently, her scream louder than ever, and in the middle of that ecstasy, she realized he was no longer tasting her, he was pleasuring her with his cock.
She grabbed his thick rod and used it as a sex toy, driven mad with lust.
"Fuck me!" She yelled, "Fuck me, please!"
His cockhead grazed her entrance and she was suddenly bathed with lust again. Instead of trying to push him away because of how sensitive her whole body felt, she needed him inside. She needed to feel him in this state.
A bright flash of pain steeled her muscles for a moment. He was inside. He was big. Too big. She'd never get used to that. She loved it. Everything that he was, it was hers.
His cock slid deeper inside, and suddenly the pain faded —or fused— with pleasure and she found herself moaning again.
"It's too big," she yelled, "too big—"
"Do you want me to pull it out?" He dared her.
"No."
"Say you love it."
"Yes."
"Say it."
"I love it," she said, barely able to concentrate, "I fucking love it."
He was fully inside of her now, her hands went around his back, embracing him. She could feel every muscle, every ridge on his body, she knew all of his moles, all of the ridges in his arms and back and torso… he belonged to her.
She buried her nails on his skin. He pushed forward, his waist touching her bottom, his cock so deep inside she felt his sack graze her slit.
He grabbed a leg and pulled it up, she was completely open for him, feeling him deeper than ever. She couldn't utter a sound, her words got caught up in her throat, she was lost, her focus gone, she and Remy were one. She was addicted to this feeling.
He put his forehead against hers and growled, his face half an inch away. They didn't kiss, just looked at each other.
His eyes. His beautiful, deep green eyes. He trembled and his whole body steeled.
She held him tighter, straddling him, wanting him to fill her completely.
There it was. It was like going in slow motion.
The warm feeling of his seed inside of her, the way he breathed out and moaned, pressing harder against her waist. Sliding in and out, in and out, bringing her closer and closer to the edge again, feeling her own juices dripping down on her center and over her blankets.
"I love you," he whispered, and her whole world came crashing down.
Her heart thudded hard inside her chest, racing. She thought she was going to have a heart attack. She was done. She was scared and confused and feeling his cock inside of her as he uttered those words turned her into a wild beast.
"I love you," she answered back."
A wave of pleasure broke out from her center throughout her body, like a cold shower instantly turned warm and delicious, their yelling loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
And it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but them. Remy.
"I love you," she said, as delight faded into the background, and reality sank in.
He said he loved her, and she said it back.
Did he really mean it? Or was it just the heat of the moment? She bit her lip, a bit scared of what just happened.
Saying it out loud came out naturally.
Remy lay next to her, looking up, to the ceiling, still breathing hard.
Silence followed. She had to go.
Chapter 29
Remy
There it was, out in the open. He said the words, and she said them too.
Maybe it wasn't the best moment—.
Fuck it. He wanted to. He wasn't going to hold back. He wasn't scared, he wasn't a child.
She put her clothes
on in silence, smiling, commenting on the time, pretending to be cool. But she wasn't fooling him.
He put his clothes on, too. It was time to go, but he waited for her to finish.
She took out a hair-dryer, there was no way she was going out with damp hair, not in this weather, she wouldn't risk her health again, especially after she confirmed she was going to the gala tonight.
"I meant what I said," he told her.
"What?"
"I love you."
She stopped. The hair dryer still on, loud and annoying. She stared at him through the mirror.
Then she smiled and kept on drying her hair.
"You're not gonna say anything?"
She swallowed and turned the hairdryer off, took a deep breath and turned to him.
"Sorry," she said, "I just don't know how to react."
Her eyes began to well. She was vulnerable, exposed. He wanted to take care of her for the rest of his life. He wanted to be by her side, to hold her when she felt like this.
"Don't worry," he whispered, pulling her to him, trying to comfort her.
"Remy, I'm scared."
"Why?"
"My family killed your uncle, isn't that enough? Your father will never accept this."
"He'll have to. If he wants to keep the family together."
"What do you mean?"
"I'll walk away from everything if it means keeping you with me."
She pressed her lips and hugged him.
"No," she whispered, "we'll make it work."
"Don't be scared. I love you."
"I love you too."
"You love YouTube?"
"What? No!" She said, breaking out in laughter, her tears gone.
"I'm kidding. I just want you to say it again."
She was smiling now, seeing her like that made him feel like their future was bright. He would deal with the problem, one way or the other. He would no longer hide.
"Okay, I'm ready," Julie said and he stood up, ready to leave.
"See you at five?"
Her eyes were bright and full of hope. She took a deep breath and nodded.
"See you at five, love."
He followed her out, said goodbye and hopped in his car.
He wanted to jump and scream and just break out laughing. Hearing those words come out of her lips was almost too much for him. It was like Christmas morning when he was eight years old, only a million times better.