by Zoe Chant
"And then home," Remy said, because he still couldn't quite believe it.
"Yeah," Alec said. "And then home."
Chapter Ten
A nudge at her arm woke Saffron. She stirred, temporarily disoriented, and found herself asleep in the center seat of Cody's beat-up old truck, curled up with her head resting on Remy's shoulder. Cool air was coming into the truck through the open driver's side door. Remy gave her another gentle shake.
"Nrgh. I'm up. I'm up."
She didn't remember falling asleep on their long drive, but now it was dark and the truck had stopped. It was very quiet, loud enough to hear the pings of the cooling engine and the sound of voices outside the truck. The open door also let in farmyard smells of hay and cattle.
They were at the ranch.
Remy stiffly opened the door on his side and climbed out. Saffron followed him. Her feet touched down on soft ground. Dirt, not pavement or gravel.
She couldn't see much in the dark. The truck was parked next to a house with its porch light on and lamplight streaming through the windows. Farther away, she saw more lighted windows and a halogen lamp on a pole above some outbuildings that looked like barns or sheds. The clear white light glimmered off the grass of a meadow that swept upward into what appeared to be a mountainside, but in the darkness it all vanished once it was outside the reach of the light. However, she thought they'd come up into the mountains; there was a sense of great space and emptiness around her, and the air was cold and fresh. When she tipped her head back, the sky was dotted with millions of stars. Besides the ranch lights, there were no other lights anywhere. She'd known the ranch was rural, but hadn't realized it was quite so remote.
Next to her, Cody's truck stood like a bulwark against the darkness. Remy's motorcycle, slashed tires and all, was loaded into the back. The truck Alec and Axl had been driving was parked next to theirs, and beside it, a small cluster of people were talking in the darkness. One of them was much shorter than the others, most likely a woman.
"Hey!" a female voice called. The shorter of the group in front of the truck broke away from them and came running to hug Remy. She pulled back when he made a soft, involuntary sound of pain. "Oh, God, sorry. Wow, you're a mess, aren't you?"
Then the woman turned to Saffron. In the porch light, Saffron could see that her hair was vivid red. "Hi ... Saffron, right? I'm Tara, Axl's mate. Welcome to the Circle B Ranch."
Saffron shyly reached out to shake her hand, but Tara enveloped her in a hug. "It's nice to meet you," Saffron said.
"It's going to be wonderful to have another woman around here. Assuming you stay, of course. But I hope you do. I love the guys, and Axl of course, but sometimes I feel a little alone. I work from home, so I don't get down to town very often."
"What do you do, all the way out here?" Saffron asked.
"I help manage my family's nonprofit, which is a fancy way of saying that I do lots of paperwork. And thanks to me, you'll be happy to know, we now have a small satellite dish for fast Internet. When I first moved here, they didn't even have a modem out here, can you imagine?"
Saffron smiled. "It seems like it would be nice to get away from it all."
"Yeah, but the problem is, eventually you want to get back to it all, or at least some of it."
Axl strolled up and put an arm around his mate's waist. "I see everyone's met. So what we were thinking, Saffron, is that Tara and I can move up to the big house tonight, so you and Remy can have the little house to yourselves and don't have to share, for now. I called Tara from the road and okayed it. The guest bed is all made up."
"Little house?" Saffron asked. She still felt dazed and half asleep. "Big house?"
Remy turned her gently in the dark. "It's probably hard to see right now, but the ranch outbuildings are a big circle. The main house is where we are now, and it's across the yard from the smaller house where Axl and Tara live."
He pointed to blocks of warm yellow lamplight gleaming through windows some distance away.
"Feel free to make yourselves at home," Tara said. "I left a covered dish in the refrigerator with dinner for you, and there's a bathroom attached to the guest room. Remy can show you where everything is."
"You don't have to move out of your house because of us!" Saffron protested.
"It's all right. It's just for tonight, and there's plenty of room in the big house. We just thought you'd be more comfortable if you two could enjoy one night without having to deal with a lot of company. Besides," she added, "we come over to the big house a lot anyway, because there's a nice kitchen up here and it's easier to cook for the whole group together. Can you cook, by the way?"
"Yes?" Saffron said timidly.
"Oh, thank God. I'm a very mediocre cook myself, so the boys do a lot of it, but they tend to come from the 'meat, meat, and more meat' school of cooking. Between their all-meat-all-the-time approach and my burned biscuits, I think we could use something different on the table for a change."
"Which will never happen," Axl said, pulling his mate in the direction of the big house, "if you don't let these two go get some sleep. They've had a hell of a day."
"Which I'm looking forward to hearing about!" Tara called as Axl towed her into the house.
"Well, she's friendly," Saffron said, laughing, once Tara and Axl were out of earshot. Alec and Cody had vanished off somewhere.
"Possibly because she spends a little too much time alone out here," Remy said. They began walking across the yard together, arm in arm. "She's used to the New York City high life, and then she ended up on a ranch, running a home business, while Axl is in town for his job every day. And Cody's not great company, since he spends all day out on the range working with the herd. She absolutely loves it out here, don't get me wrong, but I think the solitude gets to her at times."
"Hey, I'm a small-town girl myself. I'm used to solitude."
"Do you think ..." Remy started to ask. He trailed off, then started over. "Do you think you're going to stay?"
She spun him around and tipped her head back to kiss him, long and hard, pulling away with her teeth scraping across his bottom lip. "Of course I'm going to stay, you big ... bear. If your alpha's okay with it, but if he weren't, I don't think he would have invited us back here in the first place."
"No, it seems like Alec's actually hit it off with you, as much as he hits it off with anybody." He opened the door for her. "Welcome ... well, I was going to say welcome home, but it's really Tara and Axl's home. But, welcome anyway."
She laughed as they went in. "If I move here, where are we going to stay?"
"I'll build you a house. All you have to do is decide what kind of house you'd like."
"Are you serious?" she asked.
"Of course I'm serious. I've been working with my hands since I was a little kid. I would love to build you a house, Saffron, a beautiful house on the Circle B, just for us. Nothing could make me happier."
She didn't know what to say. "Yes," was all she could manage. "Yes, Remy, I would love you to build me a house here."
And she thought it might look very much like Tara and Axl's house. It was small and snug, with foot-worn wood floors covered with hand-hooked rugs. This house made her think of the house she'd grown up in, a warm nostalgia no longer tempered by fear and concern for her family. Here and there were interestingly incongruous touches: expensive-looking paintings and antiques, which had been placed with an expert's eye so they didn't look terribly out of place with the older, country-style furnishings, but complemented them instead. Saffron guessed that these were probably Tara's things, brought with her from her former New York home.
The kitchen looked like it was in the middle of a renovation—the counters were torn out and replaced with unsecured plywood; there was masking tape around the window frames—but Remy seemed to know his way around, and without difficulty he found the covered dishes Tara had left for them. It was simple country food, sliced roast with potatoes and bread slathered with butter. Saffron w
olfed it down. She couldn't remember when she'd last been this hungry.
Remy finished everything on his plate and most of another loaf of bread before he shoved the plate away and leaned back in his chair. "Ready to see the guest bedroom?"
She poked his ankle with her toe. "I want to do more than just see it. First, though, I think maybe a shower is in order. Right now I feel like I haven't been clean in a week."
"Lady's wish is my command." Remy pointed. "The guest bathroom is right through there. I'll finish up these dishes and then take a turn after you."
"Excuse me." Her foot worked its way higher on his leg. "I was hoping not to shower alone."
"On second thought, maybe the dishes can wait."
The bathroom was just like the rest of the house: cute, cozy, and country. There was a small window with gingham curtains, looking out on the dark sweep of the mountains, and the soap dish was hand-carved from a small wood burl. Saffron picked it up to look at it.
"Gannon made that, I think," Remy said from the doorway. "He carves stuff."
"I still haven't really met him yet. I just saw him from a distance back in the woods."
"I'm sure you'll meet him eventually. He doesn't live with the rest of us down at the ranch. He's got a cabin up in the mountains."
"There's a lot to get used to here," Saffron murmured. She looked at herself in the mirror. The scratches on her face and neck had faded to near invisibility by now, although the claiming mark was still visible as a silver crescent above the neck of her blouse. Her hair was a disaster. Back at the cabin, she'd pulled the tangled mass of it into a rough braid to stop it from felting itself into a mat that would take her days to brush out. Now, as she undid the braid, leaves and twigs dropped out.
"Pretty mate," Remy murmured, dropping a kiss onto the back of her neck while she had her hair off of it, slung over her shoulder.
"Messy mate," she sighed, finger-combing sticks out of the long brown strands.
"You look delicious to me."
She looked up and met his eyes in the mirror. He'd taken off his shirt. The wounds had mostly healed, she saw, leaving only fresh pink scars seaming his tattoos.
"Yeah, gonna have to get the ink touched up," he remarked, seeing where her eyes had gone.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Better. Tired. Gonna feel good to get hot water on these sore muscles."
"I can help you stretch them out," she murmured, turning around in the circle of his arms to press herself against his front. Her nipples were already standing out beneath the fabric of her blouse.
"You know, if you're gonna get in the shower, I think you've got too many clothes on." He started unbuttoning her blouse. "Or is this how they take showers in Silver Hill?"
"Smartass." But it came out in a gasp as he pulled her blouse down over her shoulders. He leaned forward to kiss the claiming mark on her neck, and she gasped again.
"Oh yes," he said against her skin. "I can't wait to get you under some hot water."
"Are you saying I stink, mister?"
"No, I'm saying I can't wait to see you naked and wet." He was undoing her bra now.
His erection tented out the front of his jeans, pressing against her. Saffron unfastened his jeans, even as she felt her bra come loose.
"It would probably be faster to undress ourselves," she pointed out.
"Sure, but not nearly as much fun." He stripped off the bra and dropped it in a heap with the blouse, then lifted her breasts, one in each hand. "Have I mentioned you have an amazing rack?"
"Ooh, you smooth talker. I can see how you win all the girls' hearts."
"Only the one girl who matters," he murmured, and kissed her long, hot, and slow. His fingers fumbled with the zipper on her jeans. She reached down to help him.
He kissed his way from her lips down her throat, pausing to flick the claiming mark with his tongue, and she felt him smile against her skin at the way she jerked with reaction when he did that. Down he went, down her breasts, licking each nipple, and then across her belly. Now he was crouched in front of her. He pulled down her jeans, and lifted each leg with a hand on her thigh so he could take them off, followed by her panties. His hand lingered on her inner thigh, tantalizingly close to the curls between her legs.
She was wet already, even without being touched. Her clit tingled with eagerness, and when he brushed the side of his face against her mound, she flinched at the rush of heat through her lower body.
"Sexy mate." He kissed her mound, and flicked out his tongue, a light brush that woke a sharp burst of sensation. She steadied herself with her hands on his muscular, tattooed shoulders. His light licking and nibbling was just enough to make every nerve ending come alive. Even the cool, hard edge of the sink pressing against her hips made her quiver.
"I want to do it in the shower," she managed.
"You don't like my technique?" he asked, looking up with a wicked grin.
"I love your technique, but ... shower." She wanted to see him wet and soapy, wanted to feel his slippery body writhing against hers. She could feel herself mounting toward the edge already, but she didn't want to come yet. Not this time. She wanted to stay there, with this heightened awareness to her senses, for a while yet.
Remy stood up and started to pull down his unzipped jeans.
"Oh no you don't. My turn." She knelt to pull them down, and then his boxers. His cock was enormously erect, glistening with moisture at the tip. She lipped at the head, tasting the masculine heat of him, but turned away before he could do more than gasp.
"Shower," she repeated, grinning at him. She bent over, well aware that her ass was now presenting itself as a target for inspection, and fiddled with the temperature controls. Cold water cascaded into the tub, then hot.
Remy cupped her buttock in a callused hand. "Nice view back here."
"Like that, do you?" She flashed him a cheerful look over her shoulder and held a hand under the shower until it was comfortable. Then she stepped in.
With her body still thrumming on the edge, the hot water was pure bliss. She tipped her face up to it, letting it sluice over her, washing away the dirt and grime of their escape.
With her eyes closed, she was aware only by feel of Remy moving in behind her. His arms bracketed her, and when one hand touched her with something slick and cool, she jerked before realizing he was soaping her. Then she stood still, letting him soap her thoroughly. He soaped her up, running his soapy hands over her entire body—it was like a massage with the extra pleasure of the hot water beating on her body and the electric tension of his hands on her. He ran slippery hands over her breasts, with extra attention for her nipples; rubbed down each leg; caressed her buttocks and stroked a quick, slippery finger between her legs, teasing between her folds with wet, deft fingers.
When she'd been soaped all over, and was a little wobbly in the knees from the sheer thoroughness of the soaping, he turned her around under the water, sluicing the soap off her.
"My turn?" she asked, opening her eyes and blinking the water off her lashes.
They traded places, and she took the slippery bar of soap and began rubbing it all over his tattooed pecs. Over his shoulders, down his arms to his broad hands—she soaped each finger and massaged his hands, then soaped back up his arms and across his shoulder blades. She enjoyed following each curve of his tattoos with the bar of soap, over his back and around the side and across his flat, firm washboard abs, careful of his healing injuries. She soaped his legs to his feet, washed each foot, and lifted her head to find herself on eye level with his erect cock.
"Little Remy needs washing too, I think."
"Can we stop calling it that?"
She grinned and wrapped soapy hands around his shaft. His playful laughter died on a gasp as she drew the head into her mouth. She ran her tongue around it, teasing the tip and following the ridges like a treasure map. When she pulled away and looked up, Remy's expression was glazed. She ran a soapy hand over the end, and rinsed t
he entire thing thoroughly under the shower flow.
"Clean," she declared.
"Woman ..." Remy began, and trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.
She stood up and wrapped her arms around his wet body, tipping her head back to receive his kiss. "You know what I want?" she asked.
"At the moment, I'll do anything. No," he corrected himself. "Not just now. For you, anything. Forever."
"I don't know about forever, but right now, I want you to take me up against the wall of this shower."
She turned around and pressed her palms against the wet tile.
Remy's breath hitched, and he moved in to cover her from behind. She leaned forward, thrusting her hips out, spreading her legs to open her entrance for him. The tip of his cock brushed her sensitive folds and she let out a low cry.
"Beautiful mate," he murmured, pressing a kiss against the back of her neck as he slid inside.
He filled her perfectly as always, stretching her sensitive inner walls. From this direction, his whole body covered hers, and she felt as if she was enfolded in him, filled with him inside and out. His body flexed against her, muscles rippling as he pressed in with short, fast, shallow strokes. Saffron dropped her head forward, her wet hair swinging in heavy hanks.
Remy's strokes grew faster and harder as she responded, thrusting back against him. Harder and harder, he pounded her against the wall, until she let out a small gasping cry on each stroke.
As he drove into her, he kissed and nibbled along the curve of her shoulder. When he reached the claiming mark, he covered it with his mouth and tongued it, and she cried out and threw her head back.
I can't take it, it's too much—too much sensation—
Her body was a live wire, throbbing with electric ecstasy. Remy continued to mouth and nibble at the claiming mark, and she could only hope they didn't hear her cries all the way up at the big ranch house. She pushed her hips back against him, and stroke by stroke her pleasure mounted.
"Remy!" she screamed, and her body arched back as she came with a powerful rush that seemed to short out all her senses for an instant.
