Another wave of warmth surges through my chest as my morning thoughts return.I want Remy.
I chance another look at the target of my inner war, any warmth inside me freezing when I realize she's still talking to Jason. And now he's got his hand on her hip.
"Look, Anna, I'm sorry to cut you off but I have to go," I grit through clenched teeth. Without waiting for her reaction, I turn to make my way over to Remy.
Politeness be damned—I'm about to remove this guy's hands from his body.
But before I take more than a step, I see Remy disappearing into the house.
I don't see her in the kitchen or living room, so I make my way to the second floor. There are two girls waiting for the bathroom and a few hipsters smoking weed in one of the bedrooms, but no sign of Remy. I climb another set of steps to the third floor.
This floor only has two bedrooms and it looks completely empty of people. I frown, wondering how I could have lost Remy in this house.
But then I hear a toilet flush coming from the master bedroom. I hesitantly push the door open.
Remy is leaning against the bedroom wall, staring at her phone as she waits for the bathroom door to open. I step up behind her.
"Having fun?" I mumble in her ear. She yelps and turns around.
"Tristan," she hisses, clutching her heart. "What is your obsession with sneaking up on me? You're going to scare me to death one of these days."
I chuckle. "Distracted, are we? What's that pretty little head of yours thinking about?" I cock an eyebrow thoughtfully as I wait for her to answer.
She looks away quickly, seeming suddenly uncomfortable. "Nothing," she mumbles.
I laugh again. "You're a terrible liar, Remy baby," I tease her. "It's not a hard guess." The hunger in my eyes deepens as I look down at her and suddenly forget why I'm angry. All I can think about is how beautiful she looked riding me yesterday, shining with sweat and not caring how wild she looked as she chased her orgasm. I swallow roughly and tamp down on the urge to adjust my growing cock.
She blushes at my words and looks away again. "I'm not thinking about anything," she says again, more firmly this time. "I'm just enjoying the party."
Now I remember why I'm angry with her. "Are you having fun with Jason?" I ask her, trying to keep my voice light and my fury not at all obvious.
She turns to face me fully. "Jason's great," she says, her face expressionless. "How's Anna?"
"Trying very hard to flirt," I respond curtly. She stiffens at my answer, her eyes narrowing. But I push past any talk of Anna and steer us back toward Jason. I need to know if there's anything between them.
"Were you close to Jason in college?" I ask tightly, trying to mask the jealousy in my words.
Remy's posture is still tense as a frown mars her pretty face. "Not really, but he was part of the study group," she starts cautiously. "He was the smartest one, so he helped us a lot. He was always around."
She seems to notice the way my jaw clenches at her comment because she relaxes her stance, a small smirk appearing on her lips. "He's a hard worker, too. He just graduated early from Temple Law. He was always very…stimulatingto talk to."
It takes all I have not to slam her against the wall and fuck him out of her mind right then and there.
Instead, I swallow the growl in my throat and try to adopt a bored look. "I'm sure he is," I shrug. "I'm sure he's verypleasing."
A small frown appears on her face when I don’t bite at her taunt. She opens her mouth to snap back at me but then the bathroom door opens, and she never gets the chance.
We both turn to nod politely at the girl coming out of the bathroom, who smiles at us and walks out of the room. I wait until she's out of sight before spinning around and gripping Remy by the throat. I push her into the bathroom and lock the door behind us.
She's breathing heavily as I push my body against hers, flattening her against the door. I study her for a moment, my thumb gently rubbing circles on the side of her neck.
"Do you really think he'll please you as much as I do?" I murmur against her lips. I don't know if I'll ever get enough of her little gasps when I affect her like this.
"Yes," she moans.
"Liar," I chuckle. I brush my lips against hers, not quite kissing, but I'm desperate for more contact. "No one can make you feel like I do. You know it's true. Just say it." She shakes her head, refusing to admit to such a thing.
"No one can make you as wet as I can with just my fingers," I growl. The hand that's not on her neck begins tracing up and down her side, occasionally dipping under the edge of her tank top. She shivers, but I don't know if it's from my words or my touch.