“Those are cute,” I say hoarsely.
Remy covers her face with one hand. “Oh, my God.”
“What?” I grin despite myself. “They are.”
“You are not supposed to notice the bow.”
“I notice everything when it comes to you.”
That quiets her instantly, and the silence that follows feels charged. Her hand slowly lowers from her face, and the way she’s looking at me now puts a lump of emotion in my throat.
Like she believes me.
I slide my hands farther up her thighs, spreading them gently. My pulse is pounding so hard I can barely hear over it when I finally lean in and press one open-mouthed kiss directly over her panties.
Remy jolts. “Oh.”
The sound goes straight to my cock. Closing my eyes for one dangerous second, I breathe her in through the thin lace separating my mouth from her pussy, and my brain completely blanks out.
This is what I’ve been fantasizing about.
Not even the sex.
This.
Her above me. Her fingers in my hair. Her thighs around my shoulders. The feeling of her reacting to me.
I drag another kiss over her, slower this time, and she makes a helpless little sound that nearly kills me on the spot.
“Fuck, Remy,” I whisper. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Her legs tighten instinctively around my shoulders. And that might genuinely be the hottest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. After hooking my fingers into the sides of her panties, I glance up one last time before I move them.
“Still okay?”
She swallows hard. Her lips part. “Yes.”
I ease her panties down her legs slowly, giving myself one last chance to stop before this becomes something neither of us can take back.
I don’t stop.
My hands skim up her thighs again as I settle between them, and for a second, I just look at her. Remy’s cheeks are flushed pink now, her hair slightly mussed from my hands and hers, her skirt bunched around her hips while she arches against the kitchen island, looking at me.
And somehow she looks composed, or she’s trying to. That’s about to end.
“Thank you for not leaving,” I say before I can overthink it.
Her eyes widen slightly. “Owen—”
“I’m serious.” My thumbs stroke slowly along the insides of her thighs. “You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.”
A soft, shaky moan leaves her lips. That sound alone could make me lose my fucking mind. Leaning in carefully, I kiss again before finally dragging my mouth where I’ve wanted it from the second she kissed me in this kitchen.
The first taste of her nearly short-circuits my brain.
“Fuck,” I breathe against her immediately.
Remy jerks softly at the contact, one hand flying down to grip my shoulder. I feel the movement all the way through me. Every tiny reaction she gives me hits like gasoline directly on a fire that’s already out of control.
