by Delta James
“You do not get to treat me this way,” she snapped.
Hoss turned to face her, giving her his full attention.
“If you aren’t real careful, Remi, I’ll have you come over here, drop to your knees, and I’ll fill your mouth with it right this minute. Is that what you want?”
His eyes locked with hers and she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do just that.
“Not in front of Murphy and Yancy. Can I at least make a list of things I need?”
Hoss joined her and brushed her lips with his as his hand connected sharply with the left side of her derriere, causing her to yelp and slam herself into his body. He swatted her other cheek.
“As I believe that’s what I originally told you to do, yes, Remi, you can make a list and give it to Murph.” He tilted her face up to his and kissed her hungrily. “And while Yancy finishes up what he needs to do, after you’re finished, why don’t you go get naked in our room and I’ll see about getting one or both of us fed before he gets back.”
Remi thought about standing her ground. His look of determination told her that his best offer was on the table.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered.
He leaned closer to her. “Good, I don’t want you to be. I do, however, mean to see that you get better about minding me. If you don’t want Murph to have a list of what you want, that’s fine with me. One way or another, I want your tail up in our bed in the next fifteen minutes.”
“You are infuriating. We are going to talk about this.”
“That’s fine too. You can sit on my cock for as long as you want and talk about any little thing your heart desires. Do you want Murph just to go now? You have fourteen minutes left.”
Remi turned on her heel and went back into the kitchen. Murphy followed her.
“Your friend is an ass!” she hissed.
“Hoss is the best man either of us will ever know. He’s loved you longer than I’ve known him. Don’t let him fool you, he means to find out who threatened you and we will neutralize that threat one way or another. He will keep you safe whether you like it or not. I can tell you from my side, if my Ginie had mouthed off at me that way in front of the guys, she’d have been wearing a ball gag while I took care of business and then been looking for something very soft to sit on when I was done.”
“And the lot of you think that’s just fine?” she asked with mock indignation.
“So do you or we wouldn’t be having this conversation and you wouldn’t have gotten all touchy and feely with the big guy. Your past is pretty much an open book to the lot of us. I suspect you’ve been in love with him almost as long as he has been with you.”
“Longer,” she whispered.
“Then settle down and live the life you know you want. We’ll get this thing resolved and then you can ride off into the sunset with Hoss.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
Murphy chuckled. “It is; you and my Ginie just want to make it complicated. But I suspect that when you’re face down over his knee, things get a lot less convoluted... at least that’s what I’ve found with Gin. In any event, let’s get that list done... I’d be upstairs in an accommodating mood by the time he gets up there if I were you.”
Remi snorted. “Easy for you because you get your own way,” she said, making note of what she needed.
“Maybe easier from your point of view, but just remember that taking care of you is our number one responsibility. Nothing comes before that.”
Remi was just finishing her list when Hoss filled the doorframe.
“She’s almost done, Hoss. I distracted her so it’s on me.”
Hoss gave him a hard look. “You just know she’s a great chef and want her to cook for you.”
“Hey, if I have to do without my wife, I ought to get something out of the deal.”
Remi turned to look at Hoss and leaned against the counter.
“I need to organize this kitchen,” she said defiantly.
Murphy turned to her and then looked back at Hoss, saying “Ball gag,” before heading out.
“Nah,” drawled Hoss. “Duct tape worked just fine last night, didn’t it, Remi? Get your tail upstairs. I want to talk to Yancy and Murph. I’d better find you naked and in bed.”
Remi could see both men hold their breath until she could no longer hold his stare and moved past them to head upstairs.
“Big bedroom is on the left hand side,” offered Yancy. “We thought you’d be most comfortable there.”
“Thanks, Yancy,” she said, heading up the staircase.
* * *
Hoss and Murphy joined Yancy and waited until the door closed.
“You really need to talk to us or just giving your girl a bit of space?”
“A little of both. Murph, put a rush on the analysis of that note. Yancy, see if you can’t find out more about Julian Burns’ death.”
“He’s dead?” asked Murphy. “How? When?”
“Haven’t you talked to Adam? Either of you?”
Yancy nodded. “I have and am working on getting both the autopsy report and any files or notes that I can get my hands on. I don’t like puzzles that suddenly get all tied up with a silver bow.”
“What’s happened?” asked Murphy.
“Julian Burns, the chef out of Seattle was found dead of an apparent suicide. There was a note copping to everything.”
Murphy shook his head. “I don’t buy it. My takeaway from the conversation I had with him was that he was promised the prize, but they wanted him to do a couple of years getting his name recognition up. Make the rounds of all of the celebrity chef shows, at Le Meilleur’s expense. He actually mentioned he was a bit concerned about his own safety as he was a front runner but did confirm that he hadn’t been threatened. No way he was behind this. What did Remi think?”
“Same. Too convenient and out of character. Start digging.”
“Will do,” Murphy and Yancy said in unison.
Hoss smiled and started up the stairs to Remi.
“Hoss?” called Murphy.
“Yeah?”
“Quit being an asshole and tell the girl how you feel about her.”
Chapter Fourteen
Hoss entered the room and saw her lying on the bed as she had the other night, naked and glorious. Only this time, there was no defiance, no recrimination or regret. Remi’s legs were spread, and he could see her pussy glistening with desire. He’d never seen anything so beautiful or wanted anything, or anyone, so much.
Wordlessly, he pulled off his sweatshirt and then removed his jeans and boots. Her earlier teasing touch had given him a raging hard-on. As he approached her, he smiled as her eyes trailed down from his to his engorged cock and back up again. Ever so slowly he crawled onto the bed, easing himself down between her thighs, his staff straining, seeking the entrance to her core.
Hoss held her head in his hands and gently cupped her face. “I love you, Remi—always have, always will.”
There, it was out. The thing he’d planned to say to her that night at prom. His plan had never been to talk her into bed, but rather to tell her how he felt, that he wanted to marry her and that he’d been offered a position with a major football team. The words hung in the air between them. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
“Me too—for as long as I remember.”
He waited, poised at her entrance. He’d waited for this for so long. This was the part of the dream that transcended the fantasy... the part that he had never admitted, even to himself. He wanted to savor the moment... wanted to burn it into his memory. He wanted to ensure they both remembered this forever.
He captured her mouth with his in a searing kiss as he surged forward, driving to the end of her channel. Remi arched her back and moaned in passionate response. Her warmth welcomed him home. This was not the first time he’d claimed her body, but this was so much more. This time he wasn’t just demanding her p
hysical response. This time he was asking for her soul... and she was relinquishing it to his care.
Remi writhed beneath him, her hips undulating in rhythm to his own. This wasn’t the rough fucking he’d been subjecting her to. This was an expression of all the feeling he’d been repressing for more than two decades. He felt as he thrust in and out of her that he had loved her all of his life and would love her through this lifetime and all of those that followed. He knew in that moment the meaning of the term soulmate and knew that Remi was his.
“Morgan,” she cried in rapturous exultation. “Please?”
Her body began to spasm as though she were having convulsions. Her muscles seized and released in a kind of jubilant celebration that matched his own. Her pussy quivered along his length in ecstasy and need. Her legs intertwined with his as a powerful orgasm racked her body. She called to him with every fiber of her being and he answered in the only way he could.
Hoss felt his semen rushing up from the depth of his balls to race down and begin to empty into her trembling sheath. Her cunt contracted as it gripped his cock, her legs spasming as her nails dug into his back in abandon. He felt her pussy gripping his cock, wringing every last drop of his seed and relishing every bit of pleasure he offered as she lay in his arms.
Basking in the aftermath of their emotional onslaught, he gently withdrew from her, but held her close as he rolled to his back and drew her with him. He loved how she snuggled against him. He’d always felt large and out of place around most people; Remi had always made him feel powerful and strong as though he could take on the world and win.
“Say it,” he commanded softly.
“I did,” she teased.
“‘Me too’ is not the same as I love you; now say it.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll paddle your butt until you wish you had. Jesus, Remi, I feel like I’m just hanging out here twisting in the wind...”
Remi rose up and seized his face with her hands, bringing her mouth down to his to kiss him with a fervor he had never known.
“Okay, fine. But I’d better hear it from you every morning for the rest of our lives.”
Hoss folded one hand behind his head and grinned. “Deal... now say it.”
“I love you,” she sighed as she kissed him again.
Anything else they might have said was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Go away,” called Remi.
“Hush. If they’re interrupting us, trust me, it’s important.” She started to rise. “You stay right here by my side.”
“I’m naked, Morgan.”
“Sweetheart, they’d never let me hear the end of it if you weren’t and Murph would sic Ginie on me. I’ve made sure you’re covered up. Come in!”
Murphy entered the room. “I really hate to interrupt, but we’ve had an interesting development and Adam wants us on a conference call immediately.”
“Give us ten minutes to shower and get dressed.”
“Yeah, I kind of told him that and he said to bring the vid phone up here.”
“Oh, sure, let’s just bring everybody into our bedroom,” said Remi as she lay back pulling the covers over her head.
Yancy stuck his head in. “Sorry about this, Remi, but Adam was insistent.”
“I understand I’m interrupting, but this is critical,” said Adam from the phone.
“Go ahead,” said Hoss.
“Remi?”
“What?” came the muffled response before she folded down the sheet and blanket.
“Did you tell Hoss that one of the forensic team guys was in your room and you wondered why he hadn’t found the first note?” asked Adam.
“Yep. I thought it was pretty sloppy on his part.”
“Are you sure it was a man?” he asked intently.
Hoss watched as Remi sat up, clutching the bedding to her chest. He studied the beauty of her naked back and stroked her soothingly, glad when he saw her muscles lose some of their stiffness.
“Yes. He had on one those surgical masks that they wear, but I could see he had a full beard and a predominant Adam’s apple. I could also see dark hair on his wrists and the backs of his hands. Why?”
“The entire forensic team that day was made up of women. There wasn’t a man with them that day. And I know this group—there isn’t a man with a beard and dark hairy arms either. Most forensic people shave daily to try and minimize any kind of cross contamination.”
“That means if he wasn’t one of yours...” whispered Remi.
“I’m sorry to say, but he was hiding in your room somewhere, planted the note and then just walked out in plain sight.”
Hoss watched as Remi began to tremble, not with passion or need, but in fear. Almost the moment he laid his hand on her, her body quieted.
“The results that Murph got back on that note from Remi’s row house made our guys go back over the other two.” continued Adam.
“You gave the police the one you took from me in Texas?” she said, arching her eyebrow.
He nodded. “I did. Adam, did they find anything?”
“This time, yes—one set of fingerprints consistent throughout all three notes.”
“Those could have been mine,” Remi said sullenly.
“No, sweetheart, you didn’t touch the note here. Adam, were you able to run them down?”
Adam grinned. “Not here, at least not at first. They weren’t in the criminal database, but they were on file with the liquor licensing board. They belong to Donald Spencer.”
“Who the hell is Donald Spencer? You say that like we should know.” said Hoss.
Adam grinned. “Not you guys, but I’m betting Remi does.”
She nodded. “Donny is the business partner of Chef George Ettinger, the CEO of Le Meilleur and one of the esteemed judges of Bistro Wars. Le Meilleur is the primary sponsor of the show.”
“Wouldn’t you have recognized him?” asked Hoss.
“No. I’ve never met the man. He’s always been the man behind the curtain. I just recognized the name.”
Yancy interrupted. “That goes along with what I’m finding. Donny is also their COO. And Adam? He has a one-way plane ticket to the UAE.”
“We’re having an arrest warrant written up for both Ettinger and Spencer,” Adam informed them. “I needed confirmation from Remi that she had seen Spencer in her room.”
“What made you think he had to have been in there all along and just slipped out?” asked Hoss.
“I never thought she did it so there had to be some way for someone to have been hidden. The only way for that to work...” started Adam.
“Is if he hid amongst your staff and walked out with the cops or hotel staff,” finished Hoss.
“But why arrest Chef Ettinger? I can’t believe he had anything to do with this...” said Remi.
“We don’t necessarily think he was an active participant, but probably knows more than he thinks, and he is implicated. We’re hoping he will be willing to come clean and give us what we need.”
“Poor Julian,” she said. “All he wanted to do when he started out was cook for people. Then he got caught up in the chef frenzy of the past decade and he wanted to be famous. I think somewhere along the way, he lost himself.”
“You guys hang tough,” said Adam. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Adam rang off.
“As we said, Adam said it was important. Sorry to have bothered you,” said Murphy as he and Yancy slipped from the room.
“Hey!” called Remi.
Yancy stuck his head back in the room. “Yeah?”
“I don’t know about the big man here, but I’m starving. Let me grab a quick shower and I can make something to eat.”
Hoss watched as Remi stifled a laugh. Yancy and Murphy were looking at him with high hopes and even higher expectations.
“Get out,” she ordered.
She rolled her eyes as the two men waited until Hoss nodded in the affirmative.
* * *
“What the hell was that for?” she snarled.
Hoss opened the glass door, kissed her with a fierce and possessive passion and smiled.
“If I keep you in here with me, we’ll never make it downstairs. You promised to feed those guys. So, go get dressed and head on down without me.”
She shook her head and started to leave.
“Remi?” he called.
She stuck her head back in the bath.
“I love you.”
Her heart all but burst from the rush of emotion that welled up in her.
“I love you too. And for the record, I’d much rather stay up here with you than cook. And I’ve never said that to anyone before.”
Remi pulled on a pair of jeans and started to pick out something of her own. Instead she grabbed one of Hoss’ flannel shirts and then went be-bopping down the stairs in incredibly high spirits.
“So, let’s see what we have,” she said, going through the dry goods and things in the fridge. She looked through what Murphy had picked up and shook her head. “Murph?” she called.
“Yes, ma’am?” he asked, grinning at her like the proverbial Cheshire cat.
Holding up boxes, she scolded, “‘Potatoes’ does not mean this dehydrated, decimated box of white flakes. Rosemary, thyme, and basil do not come in little jars. Chicken is not nuggets. And bacon is not see-through and doesn’t get microwaved. Seriously?”
“What the hell do I know? That’s what we eat at safe houses.”
“Not on my watch. Where are the keys?”
“On the hook by the front door. But I’m trying to help Yancy run something down and don’t have the time to go back to the store. You’ll just have to make do.”
“Sorry, Murph, chefs don’t make do with imitation ingredients.”
She headed toward the door.
“They do if they’re in a safe house and get told no. And I’m telling you no. There’s stuff to make French toast. Make some of that.”