I don't know if she changed what she was going to say or if she's telling me to forget what we just did, but before I get a chance to ask, she's grabbed her ripped panties from the hall and rushed up the steps.
And I'm left standing in shock, trying to make sense of what just happened.
* * *
Fuck. Jax is going to kill me.
That’s my second thought after waking up the next morning. The first is that last night was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had. My dick is still rock hard hours later from just the thought of Remy’s pussy wrapped around me.
I groan and drag my hand down my face.
I know I should regret it, for a number of reasons. For one, Remy hates me. Giving her a few orgasms won’t change that. For another, she’s basically Jax’s little sister. He never explicitly said I couldn’t pursue her, but that man is insanely protective of her and he is definitely not going to be happy when he finds out what happened. And the last thing I need is any kind of bad blood with my best friend.
Butfuck, I couldn’t help myself. This whole week has been one long game of foreplay. In all honesty, it’s probably been years of foreplay, ever since we first met. I’ve never denied that Remy is hot, and even hate is a form of passion. Our sarcasm and barbed insults have only fueled the fire between us. And then after everything that happened last night, there’s not a chance in hell I would’ve been able to say no to her. Last night, I needed Remy more than I’ve ever needed any woman.
I groan again at the memory of what it felt like when we both finally gave in. I know she must’ve been trying to fight the temptation the same way that I was—I could see the turmoil in her eyes the entire time we were at the bar. I know she didn’t want to admit to liking me and I know she would never want to do anything to hurt Jax. But this…thingthat’s been brewing between us this week was just too much. I don’t think either of us could’ve resisted when we were finally alone.
And giving into that temptation resulted in one hell of an explosion. I have never, in ten years of fucking, ever had chemistry like that with a woman. It was like we both knew exactly what the other wanted without ever having to say a word. First time sex is usually tame at best, and awkward at worst.
Last night put that theory to shame.
Watching how responsive Remy was to my touch was mesmerizing. It was like I knew exactly what she wanted, and her body would immediately reward me for giving it to her. I’m pretty sure I have her turn-ons pegged perfectly, and I definitely could’ve pushed it last night to expose her true desires, but I was so desperate to be near her that I couldn’t catch my breath enough to think past the singular thought of fucking her into the closest surface. After all these years of winding up the tension between us, combined with the physical closeness in every situation last night, it’s a miracle I didn’t explode the second I touched her.
Although with the level of chemistry that we clearly have, there’s a part of me that worries that might be a possibility anytime I touch her.
I frown at that thought. Fucking Remy once was probably a mistake, but twice would definitely be a bad idea. I might be able to convince myself that last night was a result of booze, the thing with Sabrina, and hate-induced passion, but I wouldn’t be able to explain another night. For so many reasons, Remy should be off limits.
I force myself to accept that fact as I climb out of bed and get ready for the gym. As much as I’d love a repeat performance of last night, I don’t need to overcomplicate things by getting involved with my best friend’s childhood best friend. I need to just write off what happened as a one-time thing that will never happen again. I can’t say I won’t tease her mercilessly for letting her body admit that I was right about her always secretly wanting to be under me, but I can keep my dick in my pants until Jax gets home. I only have one more week with Remy living in my house—surely, I can keep my shit together for that long. After that, we can go back to only seeing each other when there are other people around, where there’s no risk of us accidentally crossing this line again.
By the time I’m done getting dressed and throwing a change of clothes in my gym bag, I feel better than I did when I first woke up. I feel good about this resolution. As much as I shouldn’t have let last night happen, I can keep it from getting worse. I can keep my hands to myself.
No matter how badly I want to bend her over again.
I open my bedroom door to leave, but the second I hit the hallway I realize that Remy is only as far as the other side of my wall. Immediately I’m hit with visions of her smooth skin, her firm ass, her silky brown hair. I remember the way her skin flushed pink after I spanked her, the way the aftershocks ran through her body when she came on my fingers. Her whimpers when the pleasure was too much for her to stay quiet. How tight she felt around me—
I groan as I feel my cock immediately harden.Fuck. I am so fucked.
11
Remy
I wake up to sunshine and the sound of the city. The feel of a no-alarm Sunday morning in a city I love is enough to let me ignore the alcohol-induced headache that's currently tickling my subconscious. I snuggle back into Jax's pillows with a small smile.
But then the memory of last night comes back in full force, and my subtle headache becomes a very large, very obnoxious one.
Fuck. I had sex with Tristan last night.
I groan and duck my head under the pillow.What the fuck was I thinking?!
The answer is that I wasn't. The answer is that I let my lust-fueled brain finally act on my attraction to him. And now he'll never let me hear the end of it.
I cringe when I think about the fact that I just became another one of Tristan's conquests. All the shit I talked on the women that have fallen into bed with him, and now I'm one of them. Seduced by his arrogance and that goddamn smirk.
Another groan falls from my lips. Not only do I have to deal with his smugness probably showing tenfold now, but I also have another week with him here. Alone. With the memory of being bent over that couch floating through my brain every time I walk downstairs.
Fuck. This is so bad.
Not to mention, what will Jax say? Do I even tell him? Will Tristan tell him?