Don’t touch her. Don’t touch her, he ordered himself. It had been days since he’d seen her. He’d been having severe withdrawals.
She didn’t stop until her toes touched his. He didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t take his eyes off her. All he allowed himself was to breathe her scent deep, deep into his lungs, giving his soul a nibble of the woman it craved.
She reached out and touched his chest, letting the flat of her palm stroke his pec. A shiver ripped along his spine. His cock speared to life, lying sideways and swollen in his jeans. She moved closer still, stepping between his spread legs. Both of her hands were on him then. He watched her, his gaze intensifying every second she stayed so near him.
She reached up and hooked her hands on his shoulders. Standing on her tippy toes, she kissed the bare skin at his open collar. He bent his head slightly, dragging the sweet fragrance of her hair into his nose, his lungs, his whole goddamned body.
Her tongue peeped out and licked where she’d been kissing. Her mouth worked its way up as high as she could reach. “Kiss me, Kelan,” she whispered harshly.
He wrapped his arms around her, one around her narrow waist and the swell of her hips, the other up under her shoulder blades, lifting her. Pinning her body to his. He took her mouth, fucking it with his tongue, performing the only sex act allowed in such a public place.
A small mewling sound came from deep in Fiona’s throat, rippling into his mouth as if they weren’t separate beings. She gripped the back of his head, tightening the seal of their lips while he ate at her mouth.
“Pull back, Fiona. Pull back now. Or I swear I will find a bare stretch of wall to take you against. I will claim you right here. Right now.”
Fiona did pull back a little, but only to smile at him. “Will you? We can end this waiting?”
His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. He set her a few inches from his body. “Are you twenty-one yet?”
Of course he knew she wasn’t. She held up her fist, showing the ugly green stamp. “No. And everyone here knows it.”
“Then don’t start a game you can’t end.”
She grinned, certain of his self-control. “I want to end it.”
“As do I.” He looked beyond her to the table where she’d been with others. “Are these girls your friends?”
“Some of them. Will you join us?”
“Only if you sit on my lap to protect me from them.”
“Deal!”
*
Remi shut her laptop and listened to the quiet in her room as she leaned back in her desk chair. The silence made her edgy. She didn’t want to be alone. She wondered what Greer was doing. Funny; she’d gotten so used to having him around that she missed him when he wasn’t there. He’d kept his word about not rushing what was happening between them, giving her the room she needed for the past few days.
She wondered, when this was all over, where would they stand? Did they have a chance at a relationship, as he believed? And would they still—once he found out the truth about her?
She showered, then dried her hair and put makeup on as if she were going out. In truth, she was just going down to the billiards room. She stepped into her closet and tried on a few different combinations of tops and pants, then decided to go slouchy, choosing a fitted tee, her jeans, and her simple leather sandals.
It wasn’t like her to be so insecure about what she wore. It was just that she only had a subset of clothes here, and she’d worn them all. Big deal. Everyone knew she was just visiting. Greer in particular never paid much attention to what she wore, though granted, most of the time, they were running somewhere or he was fighting someone or they were dropping their clothes on the floor.
She stepped out of her room and went down the hall to his. She knocked twice, waited, then knocked again. No answer. Turning around, she supposed he could be anywhere. She heard voices coming from somewhere downstairs.
She went down the staircase in his wing, then headed toward the sound of people. They were in the billiards room. She looked around the masculine space with its wood-paneled walls and leather furniture. At one side of the room was an antique bar, made from mahogany featuring densely carved panels and classic columns. An age-stained beveled mirror was its central focus.
Almost everyone in the household was there. Looked like a private club open only to adults living in the house. The Jacksons and the kids were absent. Greer was nowhere to be seen. Was he still below, in the bunker? He wasn’t in his room.
“Hey, doc! Come on in!” Eden greeted her in a friendly way, waving her deeper into the room.
Remi smiled and nodded. She was looking forward to the chance to get to know the women better. For most of the time she’d been here, she’d been working—in her room, in here, or in the bunker.
Val was behind the bar pouring what looked like a whiskey. Eden and Angel were at the pool table. Selena was with them, ready to take on the winner. Kit, Owen, Rocco, Max, and Ty were playing a hand of poker. The rest of the women were seated on the burgundy leather sofas and armchairs, having a friendly discussion.
The guys nodded, smiled, or just ignored her as they concentrated on their activities. No one seemed concerned or resentful that she’d joined them.
Remi sat at the end of one of the sofas. “I thought maybe Greer would be down here.”
“He’ll probably be along soon,” Mandy said. “Did you want something to drink? Val can mix any drink you can think of. Or maybe a glass of wine?”
“Name your poison, professor,” Val called from the bar.
Remi smiled. “I’ll have what you’re having.”
“Good choice! One Balcones coming up.”
Owen looked over at them. Val smiled at her. She didn’t understand that exchange, but there was a lot about these people she didn’t get.
“Thanks,” she said as Val handed the drink to her.