I didn’t usually enjoy being woken up. That was until I opened my tired eyes and saw Remy’s lips stretched around my cock, letting me know I was not dreaming. It took less than two minutes for me to spill down his throat and slump boneless against the mattress.
Remy sat up, smacked his lips and licked his fingers in a show that was way too seductive to be natural. “Happy birthday, Max. Thanks for breakfast.” He paused, then tilted his head and crinkled his brow. “Although I suppose I should have got you breakfast in bed. Want some bacon, babe?”
I shot up and tackled him to the bed, pinning his hands next to his head. “I want you first.”
He opened his mouth to speak, and I swallowed his reply in a kiss. Among other things.
Remy had insisted I go shower while he made me a “proper birthday breakfast.” He used much more colorful language, though the cadence of his voice held excitement; he was definitely up to something. I showered, then followed the smell of bacon wafting down the hall from the kitchen. I found Remy writing something down on the back of an unopened letter next to my phone.
He glanced over at me, then went back to writing. “Hey. Your phone rang. I was going to leave it, but the call display said it was that Braddock guy. Hope it’s okay I answered.”
“Of course,” I replied as I sat down beside him. “What did he say?”
Remy held up the letter and squinted to read his messy handwriting. “Um, he asked how you were doing, wished you a happy birthday, said you were missed, and he’d like you to come in tomorrow for a meeting at… ten. There’s a little more here”—he handed me the letter and planted a quick kiss on my cheek—“but I have to go before that bacon catches on fire.”
I looked over Remy’s notes and frowned. Braddock wanted me to attend a briefing for managers. I hadn’t given much thought to the promotion we’d briefly discussed before. In truth, I’d forgotten all about it. Braddock clearly had not.
“Don’t even think about not going,” Remy called out. “I already told him you’d be there.”
I grunted low enough that Remy couldn’t hear and tapped out an email to my boss confirming that I’d be at the meeting. He wrote me back immediately, asking if I could come twenty minutes earlier, which struck me as odd, but I said I would, then set my phone aside. I leaned back and started to drift back asleep when Remy hollered from the kitchen after a particularly loud pop. A string of hateful curses flew from his mouth, directed at the spattering bacon, and all I could do was grin.
Life with Remy used to be full of surprises and volatility. We were young and still trying to figure out who we were and what we liked. We still were in many ways, but there was a definite shift. Now our lives could be described as mundane and domestic—and I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more.
We spent the afternoon making out on the couch and watching TV—it was perfect. Remy checked his phone more often than he usually did, and I had a feeling it was regarding whatever he had planned. He hadn’t mentioned us going anywhere, and we were hanging out in our underwear, so I wasn’t expecting drop-ins.
Around seven in the evening, his knee began to bounce and his messages came in more frequently. He cursed under his breath while he replied to the latest one, and I couldn’t take seeing him so stressed any longer.
“Rem, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re stressed.”
“Am not.”
“Your knee is bouncing.”
He looked down at it, then planted his foot flat against the floor. “Fuck,” he muttered.
I waited while he tapped out another message, growling at the reply this time. “Fine. I give up.” He tossed his phone on the table and turned toward me with one knee pulled up. “Mac and I planned a surprise party for you. It’s at his place, and I was supposed to lie to get you over there, but it’s a shitty lie, and I don’t want to worry you if I don’t have to.”
“Was it Macalister’s idea?”
Remy rolled his eyes and nodded.
The corner of my mouth quirked up in a crooked grin. “What time are we supposed to be there?”
“At eight—but I’m not telling you anything else,” he warned.
I held up my hands to signal my defeat. I’d let Remy and Macalister have their fun.
Remy knocked on the door to Macalister’s place, which was eerily quiet. He answered the door—fully clothed, which was worth noting—with panicked eyes. Before he could get a word out, Remy held up a hand and shook his head.
“He already knows,” Remy said flatly.
“Goddammit it, Remington Steele. You had one job,” Macalister whined. He narrowed his eyes at Remy, then shifted his attention to me and pulled me into a backslapping hug. “Happy birthday, Maxim.” He released me and pushed the door open all the way, revealing a room full of familiar faces and… strangely familiar, and rather gothic, decorations.
Everything clicked when I looked at the kitchen and saw a banner reading “Mystic Grill” hanging above the counter. All of my friends were dressed in a mix of dark casual clothes, leather jackets, Mystic Falls Timberwolves merch, and even a few burgundy cheerleader outfits. A smile spread across my lips when Macalister turned around and the name “Donovan” was printed on the back of his burgundy hoodie. I could so see him being Matt Donovan.
My throat tightened in the wake of all of the smiling faces directed at me, and I felt like I was about to do something stupid like cry when someone nudged my side. I turned to see Remy smiling up at me while the room broke out in a lively cheer, wishing me happy birthday. Before I could say anything, Macalister marched to the counter, grabbed his phone, then alt rock flooded the room. I instantly recognized it as the cover of “Enjoy the Silence” featured in season one.
“All right, dudes, back to the party,” Macalister said, then winked at Remy.
Everyone’s attention shifted from me to what looked like various games set up around the apartment. It was… perfect. Darts—which was brave, considering the amount of alcohol on the counter and red Solo cups in everyone’s hands—Xbox, beer pong, and flip cup. It felt exactly like a high school or college party, down to everyone dressed as such.
“Do you like it?” Remy asked.
“This is too much. You guys didn’t—”
“Nah-uh. That’s not what I asked you.”
“I love it,” I answered quietly, my cheeks growing hot.
Remy pushed up on his toes and kissed my cheek as Macalister strode over and handed me a red cup of my own.
“I totally thought he was kidding when he said you liked The Vampire Diaries, man. Gotta say, this is pretty fun. You’re going to flip when you see Dove and Taylor—they’re around here somewhere. Taylor is some kind of witch, and Dove is sporting a long brown wig. I like him better blond, but it’s kinda hot.”
Taylor was one of Dubhlainn’s friends, and a fellow drag queen. He must be Bonnie Bennett, and I’d guess Dubhlainn was Elena. I couldn’t wait to see them. I caught a glimpse of blond hair in my periphery before Blake flung her arms around me and kissed my cheek.
“Happy birthday, Maxim,” she said with a bright smile. I took in her cheerleader uniform, which suited her far too well, then tried and failed to fight back a smile. I’d never smiled so much in my life.
“Thank you, Ms. Forbes.”
“Call me Caroline.” She winked at me, then greeted Remy before continuing her rounds.
Remy squeezed my bicep and looked positively overjoyed. “There’s another surprise.” He stepped aside, revealing his younger sister.
“Rosalind,” I said with a wide smile. She looked so much like Remy, and even had the same bleached hair he’d had when he’d arrived. His had grown out quite a bit, but hers was fresh.
“Hi, Maxy.” Her tiny frame clung to me as she wrapped me up in a tight hug.
“Wait, why does she get away with calling you that but I can’t?” Macalister whined beside me.
I shrugged and bit back a smile—rather unsuccessfully.
“She’s cuter than you.”
Remy snickered on my other side while Macalister gaped at me, then at Rosalind. “You know, I should be at least mildly offended”—he turned his attention to Rosalind—“but you are pretty freaking cute. Hi, I’m Mac.” He extended his hand, but Remy intercepted it.
“Nope. Hands to yourself, Ken Doll.”
“Um, are you her keeper?”
“No, I’m her brother,” Remy said, squeezing Macalister’s hand harder.
I rolled my eyes and sighed to cover a snicker. They looked like a couple of bickering cartoon characters, tugging their joined hands back and forth in a show of manliness. As entertaining as it was, I knew I should break it up soon.
Dubhlainn appeared at Macalister’s side and elbowed him in the ribs, causing Macalister to release Remy’s hand. “Is my fella botherin’ ya, miss?”
Rosalind arched a brow at Dubhlainn then shook her head. “Not at all. He and my brother were just having a dick measuring contest, though I don’t recall seeing that on tonight’s itinerary.”
Dubhlainn whistled while Remy and Macalister stood speechless. “I see. Behave, gentlemen. Happy birthday, Maxim.” Dubhlainn gave me a friendly nod then dragged Macalister off toward the beer pong table.
Remy, Rosalind, and I sat on the high stools at the counter while we caught up on each other’s lives. Remy had been a decent middleman, but hearing how successful Rosalind was doing from her own lips made me eternally proud. Seeing that she also hadn’t caved to her parents’ wishes and maintained her alternative lifestyle and look deepened that pride for the woman she’d become.
Bryan was in the kitchen making hors d’oeuvres, sporting brown, pointy ears, a tail, and a painted nose and drawn whiskers. He looked adorably cute and not at all like a werewolf. I’d snickered when I first saw him after Remy whispered “Big Bad Wolf” to me.
Eli kept himself busy by ferrying out fresh food and hanging out in the kitchen unless Axel or Santi dragged him out for a round of flip cup. He wasn’t any good at it, but they were determined to teach him.
Throughout the night, people came by individually or in small groups to give me birthday wishes and check in on my recovery. I knew I’d have to thank Remy and Macalister for keeping everyone entertained. I’d managed to stay out of the spotlight and hadn’t once felt overwhelmed.
And then Macalister poured shots.
The night became fuzzy after the seventh.
The ride home was quiet, though it was far from uncomfortable. I held Remy’s hand and drifted off in the back of the Uber. He woke me when we got back to the apartment. I only vaguely remember Remy dragging me inside, undressing me, and getting me into bed.
I must have dosed off again because when I opened my eyes next, Remy was standing next to the bed holding a glass of water, which he handed me. “Drink up, big guy. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
I did as he asked, then passed the glass back. He set it on the nightstand, then sat on the edge of the bed.
“I can’t thank you enough, Rem. Not just for tonight, but for everything.” I teased a sliver of exposed skin on his lower back, then let my hand fall. “I can’t believe you and Macalister worked together.”
Remy rolled his eyes then pulled his shirt over his head. “You could try to look a little less pleased about it. You have no idea how much I suffered being around that guy so much.”
“He’s not so bad. You’re just being grumpy.”
He got under the covers with a sigh and propped himself up on an elbow, facing me. “Compared to how stressed I was looking around here for a candle on Valentine’s Day, dealing with Mac was relatively easy. I thought I was going to pull all my fucking hair out from stress last month. I tore through all the closets, then had to fix everything in very little time.”
My smile morphed into wide-eyed panic and my gaze flicked to the bedroom closet before going back to Remy. Had he found our old rings?
“What’s wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows.
“Did you go through my closet?”
“No. I looked in the hall closets. I swear I didn’t rifle through your things. Well, I kinda did, but not in here. I’m sor—”
“No. Don’t apologize, love. You didn’t do anything wrong at all.” I scrubbed my hands over my face and let out a heavy sigh in an effort to relax. “I’m sorry for acting strangely. I’m just tired.” I lifted my arm and Remy snuggled in close, lightly tracing his fingertips over the scars on my shoulder.
“You’re not mad?”
“I promise I’m not. Anything but, actually. Tonight was a lot of fun.”
“Thank fuck.”
I huffed a laugh then rubbed up and down his back. “It makes me really happy to know you’re getting along with Macalister now.”
Remy scoffed, though it was exaggerated. “Easy, big guy. He and I won’t be going on play dates or some shit.”
I hummed in amusement and it turned into a yawn. It had been a beautiful day, but a tiring one. I closed my eyes and was half asleep when I felt warm fingers creep under the band of my trunks and cup my balls. I moaned low and deep, half from pleasure and half from fatigue.
“Don’t mind me. You can sleep if you want. I’m sure I can entertain myself.” Remy squeezed my already hardening cock despite his words. I opened an eye to see him grinning wolfishly.
“I thought you were going to entertain yourself.”
“Oh, I am. I’m going to use your big dick, but I’ll be doing all the work.”
A cross between a huff and a moan fell from my lips as Remy’s thumb circled my tip. “I’m feeling rather involved right now.”
“One, it’s your birthday, and there’s no way in hell you’re not gonna get some. Two, I’m horny as fuck right now, and I wanna ride you until one of us passes out.” He pulled my trunks off, then rolled into my lap, already free of his sleep pants. “I’ll be honest, if you do pass out on me and you’re still hard, I’m gonna keep going, babe.”
My eyes shot open and I grabbed his wrists, stilling his exploratory hands. “Remy.”
“Yes, Maxim?” he asked, voice dripping with lust.
I thought he might be riling me up again—trying to get me to be rough with him—but when I heard his voice and looked in his eyes, I saw that he wasn’t after that. There was a vulnerable need radiating off of him that I couldn’t deny. I released his wrists and laced my fingers behind my head; I’d let him take whatever he wanted from me.
I didn’t have to speak. The action and his resulting wide smile told me he understood perfectly clear. He somehow always did.
He leaned across me and reached for the nightstand drawer, which added more pressure against our bare cocks. I bit the inside of my cheek and managed not to moan. If Remy was in a mood, he might tease me all night just to see how much noise he could draw from me. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
His lips found mine at the same time I heard him pump lube into his hand. His tongue distracted me from thinking about where that hand was going, though it became clear when he sucked in a short breath and lost his rhythm kissing me.
I cupped his face and took control while he worked at getting himself ready for me. We hadn’t had sex this way since I stopped wearing my brace, and even then, Remy hadn’t seemed as desperate for it. His movements weren’t frantic and jerky, but his entire body radiated with need for me. I saw it in his eyes, felt it in his touch, heard it in his voice, and I could taste it on his tongue.
His slicked hand suddenly closed around my cock, stroking me from base to tip and coating me in slippery lubricant. I’d been hasty in prepping him before, but this was way too fast. Trying to voice that while Remy’s hand worked my cock and his mouth was latched on to my neck was impossible. He knew what he was doing, and he knew it was going to hurt.
Remy placed one last kiss on my parted lips before he sat up and lined himself up with my painfully hard cock. His steely blue gaze locked on me, then he slowly lowered himself, not stopping or slo
wing as I breached him. His eyes went wide, then his brows furrowed as garbled cries fell from his mouth. He felt hot and tight around me, and I was scared to move—to even breathe until he adjusted.
“Fucking hell, babe,” he hissed through clenched teeth. He rose up a fraction of an inch and dragged his blunt nails down my chest, leaving a sting in their wake that only served to heighten my arousal.
My cock twitched at the added stimulation, and Remy’s eyes fluttered. He took a deep breath, then rose up a few inches on his thighs before sinking back down on an exhale. I slammed my eyes closed and my skin prickled from the sensation and the sounds of his ragged cries. He worked up a steady rhythm, and I rubbed his thighs, occasionally squeezing his ass hard enough to leave marks.
Remy bit his lip and nodded down at me before he flicked one of my nipples—hard. Before I could think about what I was doing, I slapped his ass. A stinging heat spread from my palm to the tips of my fingers while Remy winced and moved faster.
He liked it.
I slapped the other cheek and he cried out, losing his timing for a few beats. Another slap to the first cheek had him leaning all the way forward, kissing and nipping at my mouth like he couldn’t get enough. Remy panted my name repeatedly, followed by one word: more.
I grabbed the globes of his ass and held him in place while I drove my hips up, sliding my cock in him as far as I could. He wrapped his arms around my neck and under my shoulder and clung to me with everything he had as our bodies moved together. I let a hand slide off of his ass and up his back, in favor of cupping his nape. Remy’s sharp intake of breath on every stroke was loud in my ear and told me I was hitting his prostate. He wouldn’t last much longer with this new angle, and neither would I.
His breaths came out faster and shallower, and his hold on me tightened. He squeezed me so tightly that it was almost painful, then his body tensed and went slack as he shot ribbons of cum between us. I fucked him through it and unloaded in him not even six thrusts later.
We lay unmoving, aside from our heaving chests. My spent cock slipped free of him, and I felt my cum follow, dripping down my groin. Not caring enough to move and get cleaned up, I kissed Remy’s sweat-dampened hair and held him.
Somebody to Love (Crazy Little Thing Book 3) Page 15
