“Things are so much better with you here,” Diane tells me as she settles in her plush, better-than-first-class seat. “I get so excited seeing you two together again.”
“I have to say,” Coach Lupe jumps in, and honestly, since the man is a grumpy-fest all week round, it’s almost odd to see that smile on his bald head, “you motivate my guy more than anything I’ve ever seen. I’m not only glad you’re back, but I secretly prayed for it, and I’m a goddamned atheist.”
I laugh and shake my head as I keep heading down the aisle, and before I can reach the back, Pete seems to have boarded and calls to me, “Brooke, did you see our new Boss suits?” he asks.
Frowning, I swing around to look at Pete, and see that Riley is also already on board. Pete grins at me and smoothes a hand down his black tie as I scrutinize his appearance, and Riley grins and spreads out his arms as though to let me have a good look. I had no idea their suits were new.
They are basically all these guys wear, and today, like every day, they are both ready to be cast in Men in Black XII—or whichever it’s up to by this point.
Pete, with his curly hair and brown eyes, would be some sort of intelligence geek. Riley, with his blond hair and that surfer look, would be the one who accidentally kills demons while slowly opening a car door or something.
“What do you say?” he prods.
I make sure I’m wearing a wow look on my face when I answer. “You guys look sexy!” And squeak when I get a squeeze on my ass, and Remington hauls me by the waist down the rest of the plane’s aisle to our seats.
He settles me down and plops down next to me, his eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. “Say that again about another guy.”
“Why?”
“Just try me.”
“Pete and Riley look sooooooo—”
His hands fly out and he tickles me under my armpits. “Try that again now?” he prods.
“Ohmigod, your men in black are so fricking—”
He tickles me harder.
“You won’t even let me say the word ‘sexy’!” I squeak, as he stops.
Blue eyes gleaming, Remy’s lips form the most tantalizing smile I’ve ever seen, and coupled with that scruff on his jaw and the dimples, my toes are definitely curling. “Would you like to try that again, Brooke Dumas?” he huskily prods.
“Yes, I would! Because I think Pete and Riley look amazingly—”
He tickles me so hard I kick and flail in the air, and then I gasp for breath and somehow finish up half-sitting, half-sprawled on my seat, my br**sts pushing into his hard pecs with every harsh breath. Our smiles fade as a delicious sexual awareness starts crackling between us as we stare deep into each other’s eyes.
Suddenly, he reaches out, and uses his thumb to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind my ear, his voice thickening as one dimple disappears before the other does. “Say it when you say my name,” he says, and a shiver goes through me as he runs the back of a finger down my jaw.
“Your ego not big enough?” I whisper breathlessly as I memorize his face. The square jaw, the spiky hair, the sleek dark eyebrows over those piercing blue eyes, that watch me with a little mischief and just enough jealousy to make my pu**y clench.
“You could say it shrunk sizably when my girlfriend ogled those two dipshits.” He eases back to let me sit up, and as I do, he leans back comfortably in the way sexy guys sit, with his legs spread out and his long, corded arms outstretched on the back of the seat as he watches me with a half frown.
“What was I supposed to say?” I taunt with a smile. “That they don’t look good in the new suits? They’re like my brothers.”
“No, they’re like my brothers.”
“See? And I’m yours, so it’s the same thing.” I shrug and pull my skirt down to my knees. “Now you know how I feel when a thousand women scream at you,” I add smugly as I strap on my seat belt.
He takes my chin and turns me to look at him. “Who cares what they scream when I’m crazy about you?”
Thud. My heart did that. “Same with me then. You don’t have to growl when guys look at me.”
His eyes darken, and he drops his hand at his side and clamps his jaw into a firm line. “Be grateful I have some control in me and I don’t pin them to the nearest lamppost. I f**king know what they’re doing to you in their heads.”
“Just because you do that doesn’t mean that others do.”
“Of course they do. It’s impossible not to.”
I smile, because I know he f**ks me in his head tons of times when he can’t do it physically. And I do the same, of course. I bet even a nun who saw him would do the same.