“Nana had boxes of them and despite my darker skin, the resemblance was striking.” He grinned. “I have his eyes.”
And what beautiful eyes they are. “You called them Nana and Grandda. Were they Irish?”
He laughed. “And they had the accent to prove it. It’s ironic really. On my mother’s side, I’m a First Nations person but on my father’s side, I’m a second-generation immigrant.”
“I feel pretty white-bread boring compared to you,” she teased, pressing her lips against his skin, loving its burnished color. Loving the slightly salty taste, she licked her way over to his nipple and swirled her tongue around the small hard nub. Rémi moaned and threaded his fingers through her hair. When she took it between her teeth, he moaned again and pulled her head up to his mouth. Their lips met in an explosion of probing tongues and seeking hands.
When they were both breathless, Alyssa pulled back, enough to see his face. Desire colored his cheeks, taut skin stretched over his jaw. The fiercest of warriors. How amazing that two such disparate people as his parents had come together just long enough to create this remarkable man.
A small part of her couldn’t help wonder what a child with Rémi might look like. Would his native side dominate, or would the white recessive genes take over? He was such a mix, anything could happen. Even red hair? She almost laughed out loud imagining a small strawberry-blonde girl with tan skin, high cheekbones, and big green eyes.
Pushing the thought away, she reminded herself of the truth: there’d never be any children with him. A casual relationship was the only way they could be together without endangering their careers. She couldn’t fall in love with him. Wouldn’t fall in love with him no matter how sexy and thoughtful and caring he was. Or how beautiful their children could be.
His chest still heaving, he climbed off the bed, letting the towel fall to the floor. Alyssa got only a glimpse before he lifted her up into his arms, but she’d seen enough to know he was ready, willing, and able.
“Nothing about you is boring,” he said. His gaze locked on hers, longing and need darkening the green until it was almost black. “Now close your eyes.” He waited for her to comply, then spun her in a circle before stepping away from the bed.
“W-where are you taking me?” she stammered, disoriented.
“To paradise.”
Right. He had mentioned something about a certain technique…. A tingling started between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together and rested her cheek on the warm smooth skin of his chest. Beneath her ear, his heart pounded in time with her own. Despite everything, she and Rémi meshed. Really well. The more she learned about him, the more she wanted to know. She liked him a lot. Probably too much.
He’d deliver on his boast, she was certain of that. The only question was whether she’d survive it. Would she be able to leave in the morning with her heart intact?
Alyssa stood before him, her skin glowing gold in the light from the dozen or so candles Rémi had placed around the large sunken bath. Giving her time to adjust to the dimness, he turned on the tap to warm the water. Her mouth gaped as she took in the mirrored walls around the tub. Looking at his reflection, she arched a beautiful blonde brow. “Big enough for a party, I see,” she said, her tone dry.
He laughed. She wasn’t far off the mark. After the death of his grandparents, he’d had this tub put in with just that thought. But he hadn’t been able to go through with it. Hadn’t been able to invite women over with the sole intent of having an orgy. He’d wanted to. Badly. But it had felt too much like a desecration. Like he was dishonoring his grandparents. With Alyssa though, everything was different, and in his heart, he knew they would approve.
Standing behind her, he let his gaze rove over her body in the mirror. Pert nipples pushed against the material of her tank top, instantly drawing his attention. “What happened to your bikini top?” he asked, slipping his hand under the material and hiking it up.
“I got dressed so fast, I didn’t bother with it. Unless you picked it up, it’s still by the river.”
At least one good thing had come out of that whole fiasco. His mouth watering, he cupped her breasts under the thin cotton and toyed with the hardened peaks. She moaned and draped her arm around his neck, the arch in her back bringing them into even closer contact.
Hands full of breasts, chest warmed by silken skin, cock cradled by a warm tight butt—he could stay like this forever. But when his gaze wandered down to said butt, he knew he needed more. Needed to see all of her. His gut clenching in anticipation, he grasped the hem of her top and pulled it over her head.
He spun her in his arms and latched onto a thrusting peak, rolling his tongue around it while his hand plucked at her other nipple. Her response as enthusiastic as it had been earlier in the day, she pressed her hips to his. Alyssa made love like she did everything else—full throttle. He slid his hands over her ass as he bent to his knees. His lips left her breast, licking and sucking a path to her navel, his tongue swirling the rim.
Pulling the thong out of his hair, she grasped his head and wriggled. “Oh, God. You’re killing me.” Her breath was coming in small hitches and he knew she was ready. He couldn’t wait to touch her, to taste her. To finally know if she was a true blonde. His cock throbbed at the thought of plump raspberry colored flesh glistening with need, shielded only by a thin cover of fine translucent down.
He reached over to turn off the tap. Lightening quick, he unsnapped and unzipped her shorts then slid them down her long slender legs, admiring the toned muscles as he went. He peered at the tattooed design that encircled her bellybutton. Were those vines or snakes? Didn’t matter. It was sinfully sexy, like the rest of her.
Licking the contours of her navel, he hooked his fingers along the top band of her bikini bottoms and inched them down, revealing the fine blond hair at the apex of her thighs. When she lifted her leg to step out of her bathing suit, he caught a glimpse of hungry lips darkened by arousal. Even sexier than he’d imagined, the sight stopped his heart. He had to savor her now. At least a little.
With gentle fingers, he parted her and ran his tongue along the sensitive curves, paying attention to the grooves between. She gripped his hair between her fingers and widened her stance. A moan escaped her lips and her juices flowed. He lapped at her like a man dying of thirst, enjoying her sweet essence.
The pumping of her hips increased, and beneath his tongue, her flesh swelled. He tugged on the skin at the peak of her mound, exposing her most tender nub. Capturing it gently between his teeth, he flicked it with his tongue. Her hands moved to his ears, rubbing her fingers over the outer curves and lobes. Oh, fuck. Stars blurred his vision as the sensations flashed directly to his cock. To keep from coming, he did some quick calculations of the number of tiles it would take to cover a two-hundred square foot floor.
When he sensed her approaching climax, he increased the pressure and sped up the rhythm. As her pleasure mounted, so did her moans, until she made one long keening sound. Maintaining her grip on his ears, she bucked repeatedly against his mouth as her body convulsed. He continued to suck and lick until she quieted. Sitting back on his heels, he looked up at her and grinned. “I owed you one.”
Cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, she bent and wrapped her arms around his head. Enjoying the position, he nibbled and kissed her belly. She squirmed. “Stop. I can’t take anymore right now. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life. No wonder they named this technique after you.”
He rubbed his cheek against her as he shook his head. “That wasn’t it.”
She straightened and looked down at him, eyes round. “It wasn’t? Holy crap. I might not survive The Rémi.”
He laughed. “It’s not literally named after me. But we won’t be doing that tonight anyways. I need you at full strength for that one.”
As she shot him a what-the-hell expression, he stood and helped her into the tub. The warm water closed around them, soothing aches and pains, washing away any reminde
r of the experience in the woods. He leaned against the molded edge and picked up the bar of soap and a washcloth from the pile on the ledge. After soaping up the cloth, he began running it along her shoulders. She lifted her hair up so he could wash her neck and ears. He moved the cloth down her supple back. She let her hair fall, groaning as she gave in to the pleasure. Her back curved forward when he passed over tight muscles. “Oh yeah, that feels so good.”
“That’s just the start, sweetheart.”
She twisted around. “But you said—”
“That you weren’t well enough for my special technique. Not that we were done.” When she continued to stare at him, he made a circle gesture. “Face forward.” Once she’d complied, he soaped the cloth again and brought it to her chest. With a feather-light touch, he trailed it along the valley between her breasts, edged the sensitive underside of the left one, circled, then did the same to the right. Her breath hitched. Teasing her, he brusquely washed her navel and stomach and laughed when she huffed.
Knowing what she needed, he lay back and pulled her against him. Putting the cloth aside, he soaped his hands and brought them to her breasts, cupping, kneading, tugging. When she squirmed against him, his cock slid between her butt cheeks. Pleasure overtook him. He threw his head back and groaned. The fit—so tight, so warm—forced him into another session of mental math. After recovering enough to continue, he opened his eyes to find her watching him, passion flaring in her gaze. Unable to resist, he lifted his head and captured her lips. His tongue thrust into her mouth as his cock had down by the river. Then gasping for air, he stopped himself. Tonight was for her pleasure, not his.
With her back pressed against his chest, she raised one beautiful long leg. He lathered her toes, making sure to slide a finger between each. Making his way up her leg, he massaged her foot, her ankle, the strong muscles of her calf and thigh. She moaned, her body sinking bonelessly into his. He lowered her leg back into the warm water and went to work on the other. This time, when he finished with her thigh, he pressed his hand against her mound, resting it there while she squirmed.
The slide of his cock shocked them both.
He sucked in a breath and with his still soapy hand, rubbed the fine blonde hair of her mound, covering it in suds. Watching him, she chuckled. But her chuckling turned to whimpers of pleasure when his fingers edged lower, gliding between her folds. He continued the movement as far as he could reach, then lifted his hands to pick up the washcloth. When he lifted her hips, his cock slipped out from where it had been nestled. They both moaned. Quickly he filled the spot with the cloth, see-sawing it back and forth. “Oh! That feels good,” she said, gripping the edge of the tub.
Her obvious enjoyment made him smile. He instructed her to grab the shower head and turn on the faucet. After setting the washcloth aside, he gripped her hips to adjust the position of her ass. Once his cock was returned to its rightful place, he took the nozzle from her and set it to a gentle massage. Using the spray, he rinsed off her legs, her stomach, and her shoulders. When he got to her breasts, he angled the water so it would hit her nipples in a steady stream. He watched, fascinated, as they lengthened and darkened.
When she’d had enough, he hooked her knees over his, spreading her wide, and lowered the stream of water. He moved the spray to massage her inner thighs, the base of her butt cheeks. As he got closer to her core, she moaned and arched her back. He knew what she wanted. What she needed.
Peeking over her shoulder, he circled the spray, meandering across her intimate curves and hollows until the water hit the nub of nerves at the apex of her folds. Her hips began to thrust, caressing his cock with every to and fro. He fought to keep his hand steady, to keep the water aimed where it was needed most. When he slipped and the spray hit the weeping head of his cock, he almost came. He wrapped his spare hand around her hips and forced her to stop moving.
She turned her head and nipped at his chin. “I want to feel you inside me.”
“Tonight’s supposed to be about you. Not me.”
“Then do what I ask.” She stretched to whisper against his lips. “Please.”
The desire and need in her voice undid him. He heaved her off him and leaned over the side of the tub. Water sprayed all over the bathroom from the forgotten shower head. He heard splashing as she scrambled to recapture it.
Ignoring her laughter, he blindly reached into the cabinet drawer where he kept the condoms. His yanked out a familiar shaped box that felt way too light. Shit. Was he out? He joggled the box and… blew out a stream of air when a single square package hit the floor. They’d have had to bury him if the box had been empty. Grabbing the package, he ripped it open and slipped the condom over his aching cock.
When he sank back into the water, she was watching him, amusement dancing in her eyes. He shrugged. “I admit it. I’m a little eager.”
Raw passion replaced the laughter on her face as she pressed herself against his chest, kissing him deeply. He returned her kiss, then lowered his mouth to her neck to nibble the spot behind her ear. When she slid between his legs, he flipped her around so her back was against his chest once again. He gave her a moment to reposition the showerhead, then pushed himself inside her. Inch by inch, his cock penetrated, stretching her until her inner walls gripped him tighter than any fist. Sensations rocked him, fanning out to every extremity, firing every nerve. A groan tore from his chest. His heart thudded so hard, he was sure she could feel it pounding against her back.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “How do I turn this thing up?” The sexy growl in her voice told the story—she was right there with him.
“Power spray?” He arched a brow, then chuckled when she gulped. Reaching over her, he adjusted the spray with a quick flick of his thumb, and while his hands were in the vicinity, he indulged himself by cupping her breasts.
As soon as the stronger spray hit between her legs, her hips began to rock. Stars exploded behind his eyes. She inched the spray lower. It hit the base of his cock, his balls, his ass. She was fucking killing him! No amount of mental math was going to work this time.
Giving in, he increased the pressure on her nipples, pulling on them, squeezing. She moaned and swung her hips faster, pressing the spray closer. When he felt her body stiffen, he took over the thrusting. He pounded into her until her walls contracted around him in an amazing hold-and-release series that catapulted him over the edge.
Collapsing against him, Alyssa lifted the shower nozzle and grinned. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’m buying one of these.”
Oh yeah. One night with her wasn’t going to cure anything. Not by a long shot.
CHAPTER 13
“Bye, Mr. Bus Driver,” he shouted and gave a backward wave as he jumped off the last step onto the sidewalk. He skipped the quarter block to the apartment building entrance, pushed the door open and raced up the stairs. At each landing, his backpack tried to fly off. One of the straps was broken. But he just grabbed it and kept running.
As he reached his floor, he tugged his bag back into place and knocked on the door. Waiting for his mom to answer, he hopped up and down. He was so excited to tell her about his new friends and show her what he’d made. She was going to be so proud of him when she saw the picture of the two of them at the pool. He’d drawn her pretty, just like she looked now that she’d gotten better.
He knocked again. Louder this time, in case she was in the bathroom. “Mom! I’m home,” he called, not jumping anymore. The backpack fell off his shoulder and crashed to the floor. He ignored it and pounded on the door with his fists.
Where was she? She’d promised to be home when the bus arrived. His heart started to pound fast and his head spun a little, like he’d been playing tag too long. She had to be home. What if something had happened to her? “Mom!” His voice echoed off the bare walls, but he didn’t care. Something was wrong.
A door opened and someone stepped into the hall. “Rémi, dear.” Mrs. Simard came to stand beside him and put her
hand on his shoulder. “What’s got you so upset?”
“M-my.” He stopped himself and swallowed. He wasn’t going to cry. No way. Like his mom had said when he’d left for school, he was a big boy now. “No one’s answering.”
“I see.” She gave his shoulder a little squeeze. “Did you lose your key?”
His key. He’d forgotten all about it. Crouching, unzipped the front pocket of his bag and reached in. His fingers closed around the keychain, and he felt like when you’re really hot and you drink a big glass of cold juice. Pulling it out, he showed it to Mrs. Simard.
She gave him a big smile. “There you go.”
After putting the key into the lock, he turned the knob and shoved the door open. “Mom!” he called again. “I’m ho—”
But as soon as he stepped into the small apartment, the smells came. All the icky stuff he hadn’t smelled since his mom had gotten better. The place stunk of smoke and throw up and the yucky stuff she used to drink. He crossed the open area toward her room. This had to be a terrible mistake. She’d promised she was better now. That she’d never do those things again.
His hand was sweaty, and it slipped when he took hold of her bedroom door handle. He gripped it harder and shoved the door open, stopping abruptly at the sight of his mother sprawled on the bed, an empty bottle on the floor, a needle in her arm. His tummy cramped and squeezed like when he ate apples from the trees in the park. Everything was just like before.
Jumping back, he slammed the door shut. Arms closed around him, nestling his face against a soft stomach. Mrs. Simard’s sweet scent filled his nose. Pretty like flowers. She rocked him gently and stroked his hair. “I’m so, so sorry, dear.”
He pressed himself closer. Mrs. Simard was the type of mother he wanted but now knew he’d never have. Because nothing had changed. He’d thought this time would be different, but it wasn’t. Mom hadn’t kept her promises. She never did, and she never would.
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