“I know. We’re not done.”
He reached over to the drawer of his nightstand and took out a Trojan. Covered, he spread her legs with his knees and held himself against her opening. He pushed in just the tip. She was tight, but still very wet. She bent her knees. Her hand wrapped around his on her hip.
He eased himself in a little deeper, watching her. He wasn’t a small guy, and he was stiff like a marble rod. Her hips moved to accommodate him. She wanted all of him, but he still went slowly, in a little deeper, a little more, letting her body get used to him.
“You’re torturing me,” she complained.
He grinned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Kiss me.” She took hold of his face, lifting up to match her lips to his. His arms circled her body, his elbows braced on the bed. She arched up beneath him, taking all of him. He felt her satisfied smile against his mouth. He began to move in her, pumping, in and out with slow strokes. She was already so heated, so ready for him, that she couldn’t take much of his gentle rhythm.
“Harder. Now,” she ordered.
He complied, pulling out and slamming in. He gripped the pillows under her and spread his legs—and hers—wide. He pushed in and out, holding her body to his, grinding himself against her clit, willing her control to break.
She cried out, a loud, guttural sound. He pumped against her, hard, his own release so close. Her third orgasm set him off. He leaned up, holding her hips to his as his release shot from him.
Slowly, slowly, sanity regained control of his mind, sooner than it did for Remi, whose body was still pulsing over his cock. He eased her hips back to the bed and settled down on top of her, holding her until her body cooled.
She was sweating—they both were. He loved the smell of her passion. As she came down, a strange pallor came over her face. Her breathing sped up. She dug the heels of her hands into his shoulders and pushed at him, locking her elbows.
“Get off me. Get off. Get off, Greer.”
He pulled back, withdrawing from her body. As soon as he sat up, she made a beeline for the bathroom. The door slammed shut.
Greer knelt on the bed, feeling a little shattered. What happened? What had he done? Jesus, had he hurt her?
He discarded the condom, then followed her to the bathroom. The door was locked. “Remi—what’s going on?” There was no answer, only the sound of running water. “Open the door.” He knocked again. He could hear her sobbing. “Open the goddamned door, Remi, or I will kick it down.”
He was just about to do that when the door swung open. She was standing with her back to him, her shoulders hunched, crying into a wet hand towel.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, coming close to her. He didn’t know what to do. He looked for blood on her legs, but there wasn’t any. “Remi, talk to me. What’s happening? I thought what just happened was amazing…I thought I brought you with me.”
“It was amazing.”
“Can I hold you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He did anyway. He stepped up to her body and wrapped his arms around her. “Why are you crying, then?”
She turned in the circle of his arms and leaned her forehead against his chest. After a minute, she looked up at him, the stupid towel obscuring half her face.
“I’m married.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Remi grabbed the fluffy white terrycloth robe hanging on a hook at the back of Greer’s bathroom door. Shoving her arms into it, she hurried into his bedroom. She should go. She really should, but she was too dizzy to leave. She dropped into the armchair near his window and put her head between her legs.
Greer knelt in front of her. His hands were warm on her knees. She was trying to breathe slowly, but she kept gasping. Oh, hell. She didn’t want to vomit now. Here.
He put his hand on the back of her head. “Look at me,” he ordered. She didn’t. “Remi, you aren’t married.”
She did look up then. “I was there. I think I know what happened.”
“I compiled your profile. You have no marriage license in this state or any other.”
“It happened before I left the Grummonds.”
“I hacked their system. They had no marriage listed for you—under this name or the one you used as a resident there.”
“They didn’t file marriage licenses.”
“Wait a minute. You were fourteen when you left. You weren’t old enough to be married, even with parental permission.”
Bile rose to her throat. She tried to fight it back down, but the memories she’d struggled so hard and long to avoid exploded into her mind. She covered her mouth and shook her head, mumbling from behind her hand, “I was twelve.”
The look of horror on Greer’s face matched the disgust roiling in her belly. She shot up from the chair and ran to the bathroom, emptying her stomach violently into the toilet.
Greer followed her back into the bathroom. He pulled her hair from her face and held it behind her until her stomach had calmed down. When she was finished, he handed her a towel. She went to the sink and washed her hands, holding cold water to her face for long moments.
Greer turned on the shower, holding his hand under the stream of water until it reached the right temperature. He pushed his robe from her shoulders, leaving it in a pile at her feet, then drew her with him into the shower.
All she felt was numb. She never wanted to fall in love. Never wanted to bring a man she cared about into her crazy life. Most of all, she never wanted to see his affection flip from caring to disgust, as Greer’s just had.
He was just being nice now, because what else could he do? Curse at her messed-up life and boot her from his room? That would probably come next.