by Paige Tyler
Triana laughed but otherwise didn’t bat an eye, smoothly shifting gears from sultry to casual with the agility of a Ferrari—she’d always possessed a quick and clever mind, even back in high school.
“Well, there’s no one in the crime lab sneaking around sleeping together, so it’s not as exciting as your team, but I still enjoy it,” she said with a smile. “It’s extremely satisfying being able to use my science background to do something meaningful.”
“Do you ever get a chance to go into the field and work an active crime scene?”
He’d seen techs collecting evidence in the field in Dallas all the time, but he didn’t know much about how crime labs were organized in other police departments.
She shrugged. “Sometimes. We have a team of trained crime scene investigators who do most of that work, though. I’ve had the chance to go out a few times, when there was something special the police wanted us to check for or if investigators wanted us to actually conduct a test in the field. But to tell the truth, I prefer the safe and cozy confines of my lab. Call me a wuss, but I’m an analyst, not a cop.”
Remy laughed. “That’s not being a wuss. That’s being smart.”
They talked some more about the kind of work she did before moving on to other personal topics, such as where she lived, what she did for fun, and what her social life was like.
“Is that your roundabout way of asking me if I’m dating anyone?” she asked in a playful tone.
He put on a shocked expression even though she was right. He hadn’t intended to ask her something like that, but it had kind of slipped out.
“Of course not,” he lied. “I would never ask anything so personal. I’m just concerned you might be one of those scientist types who’s always getting so wrapped up in their work that they forget to take care of themselves.”
The smile she gave him made him think she wasn’t buying it. “Well, that’s really sweet of you to worry about me like that, but you don’t need to. There’s a lawyer in Houston I see on and off. It’s nothing serious, but he keeps me from getting too wrapped up in work.”
Remy couldn’t help wondering if she was messing with him just to get a reaction. Well, it worked. He and Triana were merely hanging out for the week while they were in New Orleans, and yet he was bothered by the idea of her with another guy. Feeling a little spike of jealousy when anonymous men watched her walk across the room was one thing, but getting pissed at a man she might or might not be seeing, even on and off, was insane.
Maybe so, but the sensation was there, and it was frigging real. Suddenly, he was sorry he’d asked her the question in the first place. It had been better not knowing.
“What about you?” Triana asked, setting her fork and knife on her empty plate. “Is there anyone back in Dallas you see now and then to get your mind off work?”
Alarm bells went off as Triana’s flirty tone changed to something more serious. He realized he was about to step into a potential minefield and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Me?” He shook his head. “No, I’m not really seeing anyone seriously at the moment. In fact, I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”
Remy held his breath, expecting Triana to call him out. It wasn’t that he was lying. He honestly hadn’t been on a date in years—but that was only because he tended to limit his social contact to women who didn’t use the word date. Hookup was probably a better term to go with, though he doubted Triana would appreciate the difference.
“Good answer,” she said with a smile. “Ready for those beignets now?”
* * *
As they walked out of Muriel’s and headed for Café du Monde, Triana’s legs felt a little wobbly. So okay, she was turned on. She supposed an hour and a half of nearly nonstop flirting could do that to a girl. She’d gone out with guys who could talk a good game before, but nothing like Remy. Bottom line, the man possessed a way with words that made her think he could make her panties wet simply by reading a dictionary to her.
Between his clever banter and smooth-as-honey voice, she was ready to skip dessert and head straight to the nearest available horizontal surface. Heck, she wasn’t even sure if the horizontal part was a definite requirement. She could think of a few standing positions that might work just as well.
It was only a short walk to Café du Monde, but they took their time anyway, slowly strolling hand-in-hand along the edges of Jackson Square, admiring the artwork set out for sale along the sidewalk. Triana discovered she and Remy had similar taste in art, both of them drawn to bold colors and strong lines. She wasn’t surprised. It was becoming more obvious to her with every passing moment that there was a serious connection between her and Remy. A few days ago, she would have said the idea was crazy, but right then, she had to admit maybe her mother was right. Maybe the magic of New Orleans had had a hand in bringing her and Remy together after so many years apart.
From the moment Remy had picked her up that night, Triana had felt the crazy sexual spark that seemed to exist between them growing brighter. Within seconds of coming downstairs, she’d gotten all warm and tingly. From that point on, every touch, every heated glance, every innuendo-filled sentence had only turned her on more. Right then, she was more aroused than she’d ever been in her life. As turned on as she was, she could almost believe Remy could actually give her an orgasm without ever touching her. In theory, something like that shouldn’t be scientifically possible. Then again, science couldn’t explain just how perfect Remy Boudreaux was, either.
As they stopped to admire another street vendor’s artwork, Triana glanced at Remy, unable to help herself. With that dark-blond hair, those expressive hazel eyes, and his square jaw with just a hint of stubble, he was more attractive than any man she’d ever met, not to mention had a body that was so well-built it was practically sinful. He was also fun to hang out with, interesting to talk to, and unbelievably charming. Individually, any of those qualities would have been enough to make Remy amazing; but beyond all of those, there was something else about him that made her want to swoon like the Southern belles of olden days. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was or even understand it. All she knew for sure was that Remy was perfect for her.
Café du Monde was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and since it was a popular tourist attraction, it was usually also extremely crowded. However, in what had to be the strangest customer service concept on the planet, they expected people to find their own tables. There were multiple entrances into the covered seating area with signs everywhere pointing that out. Yet, while many locals walked in and found their own tables, most of the tourists found a line and got in it. Fortunately, the lines weren’t too long at the moment, so Triana didn’t feel too bad about grabbing a table while the tourists stood there waiting for someone to tell them what to do.
The moment she and Remy sat, a waitress came over to grab the plates, mugs, and money left by the previous customers, then took their orders.
“Two orders of beignets,” Remy said to the waitress, then looked at Triana. “Hot milk?” When she nodded, Remy finished their order. “Two coffees. One au lait, one black with sugar.”
The waitress nodded but didn’t write anything down. No notepads or menus at Café du Monde—it wasn’t that kind of place. After the woman left, Triana couldn’t help smiling at Remy. “So you like your coffee strong, black, and sweet, huh?”
He returned her smile with a sexy grin. “I’m not even going there.”
She laughed. He was no fun. She’d really wanted to tease him about the connection between his taste in coffee and women. She rested her forearms on the small table and leaned closer. “I’m surprised you agreed to come here for dessert.”
“Why are you surprised? I love this place.”
She shrugged and reached out to trace a finger over one of his bulging biceps, enjoying his sudden intake of breath. Not only di
d it let her know that he liked it when she touched him, but it also made his pecs flex under his shirt.
“It seems obvious you work out a lot.” She ran her finger down the rolled-up sleeve of his button-down, along his strong forearm, all the way to the top of his big hand. “I thought you might worry about blowing your diet and all.”
He chuckled, flipping his hand over so fast she didn’t see it move, capturing hers and caressing it casually with his thumb. “Are you kidding? I’m a cop. I practically live on doughnuts.”
She lifted a brow, seriously doubting that. “Yeah right,” she laughed. “Next, you’ll be telling me you have Dunkin’ Donuts on speed dial.”
Triana was pretty sure he hadn’t eaten a doughnut, or any other kind of junk food, since high school. His kitchen probably didn’t have anything in it but whole grains and protein shakes. She was okay with that, especially if it gave him a body like the one he had.
“As a matter fact…” Remy let the words trail off as he glided the fingers of his other hand up and down her forearm. His touch made her skin tingle everywhere—and she did mean everywhere. She would have squirmed in her chair, but he was holding her hand too firmly.
Did he even realize how much she enjoyed what he was doing? Probably not. Guys could be so oblivious.
“So you’re not worried about your diet at all, huh?” she managed.
The light from the streetlamp outside caught his eyes, making them glint gold. “Something tells me I’m going to be working off a lot of calories before the night is over.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Are you going jogging or something?”
Triana couldn’t help teasing him just a little. Verbally fencing with Remy was such a heady turn-on.
“Or something.” His mouth quirked. “I’m not sure exactly what I’ll be doing, but I have no doubt it will be strenuous, get my heart rate going, and probably last most of the night.”
“That sounds like a lot of exercise.”
He gave her a slow, sexy grin. “When I exercise, I like it to last for a very long time.”
The thought made Triana’s breath catch. Oh yeah, Remy could definitely flirt better than any other man she’d ever met.
“Maybe we can exercise together, then,” she murmured softly. “I love a long, exhausting workout myself.”
Remy opened his mouth to say something, but the waitress appeared with a tray of beignets and cups of coffee. Café du Monde apparently owned stock in powdered sugar because they absolutely drowned their doughy treats in the stuff. Some might consider it a ridiculous amount of sugar. Triana thought it was perfect.
As she and Remy ate, they talked about how much Remy and his teammates from Dallas actually worked out. He claimed they maintained the bodies they had with as little as two hours of exercise per day.
“Sometimes we lift weights when there isn’t much going on around the compound,” he added. “But that’s pretty rare.”
True to his word, Remy ate all three of the beignets on his plate and two of Triana’s. She gladly let him, because while he supposedly didn’t have to work very hard to look the way he did, she certainly did. If she was going to be exercising later, she didn’t want to do it on a full stomach. Besides, if she’d be getting naked with a man who looked like Remy, she wanted to measure up.
She’d finished the last of her beignet and was sipping her coffee when Remy smiled and motioned at her mouth.
“You have a little powdered sugar on your lips,” he said.
She blushed. Of course she did. It was impossible to eat beignets at Café du Monde and not get sugar everywhere. She quickly grabbed one of the little paper napkins the waitress had given them and patted it over her lips, then gave Remy an embarrassed smile.
“Better?”
“Not quite,” he said. “Here, let me.”
She expected him to reach over and dab at her lips with a napkin. Instead, he leaned over and kissed her. Not one of those sweet, innocent, we’re-in-public kind of pecks, but one that made her quiver all over.
Triana slid her fingers into his short hair, pulling him closer and returning the kiss with all the passion and arousal that had been building the entire evening. She moaned softly as Remy’s tongue slipped into her mouth. The sweetness from the sugar and beignets along with the spice from the coffee and chicory all mixed with his unique masculine flavor, and the combination was intoxicating.
When he finally lifted his head, he hesitated just a moment to swipe his tongue over the corner of her lips, making sure he got all the powdered sugar off. Not that she cared why he did it. By then she was so aroused she was ready to climb onto his lap and devour him.
Triana gripped the edge of the table, holding on to it for dear life as she fought to get herself under control. She’d never been kissed like that before, and while she wasn’t completely sure if it was possible to orgasm from a kiss, it was pretty darn close.
“So, did that do it?” she asked softly, and she sure as hell wasn’t referring to getting all the powdered sugar off her lips.
Remy’s hazel eyes glinted. “Yeah, it did. Are you ready to get out of here now?”
She smiled. “Finally. I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 6
Triana didn’t remember much about the walk across the French Quarter with Remy. She vaguely recalled stopping along the way to make out a few times. Okay, maybe more than a few. Overall, she was very proud that she was able to keep her hands mostly to herself until they reached his hotel. Her willpower gave out on the elevator ride up to his fourteenth-floor room. The moment the doors closed on the lobby level, she was in his arms kissing him.
Remy buried one hand in her hair even as the other slid down her back to pull her closer. She sighed as his hard-on pressed against her tummy through their clothes. It made her feel insanely good knowing she was getting to him the same way he was getting to her. She wanted him so badly right then it hurt.
Refusing to be a passive player in their game, Triana reached up and twisted her fingers in his hair, yanking his mouth down harder onto hers, tangling her tongue with his and giving as good as she got. As they kissed, she let her free hand roam over his shoulders and down the front of his shirt, thrilled at the feeling of his strength under her fingers.
In the space between two heartbeats, Remy urged her backward until she was up against the wall of the elevator. His hardness was even more evident in this position and she moaned at the thought of what he would look like naked.
The hand that had been on her back moved slowly down her hip, until it was sliding up and down her right thigh, teasing her little yellow dress up higher and higher. Remy could have yanked the thing off if he’d wanted and she wouldn’t have stopped him.
But just as she felt the tips of his warm, strong fingers on the bare skin of her thigh, the elevator suddenly stopped with a ding. She barely had time to understand what was going on before Remy pulled down her dress and broke the kiss, then spun her around so she was standing in front of him. A moment later, the doors slid open and an elderly couple stepped onto the elevator. The couple smiled at them, thankfully oblivious to what had just been taking place a few seconds earlier.
She waited for the couple to press the button for their floor, but they merely stood there as the elevator went up. That was when she realized the couple was riding up to the fourteen floor with them. At the same time, it also dawned on her that Remy had positioned her in front of him to hide his erection, which was currently poking her in the bottom.
She probably should have been on her best behavior since there was another couple around, but she couldn’t resist teasing him a little by pressing her ass against his obvious arousal. Then she wiggled a bit to make sure he wouldn’t miss it.
Remy let out what sounded suspiciously like a growl. It was soft and his nose was buried in her hair, but she heard it. Judging
by their expressions as the doors of the elevator opened on the fourteenth floor, the older couple heard it too. They quickly exited and turned left, while Remy took Triana’s hand and urged her to the right.
His room was at the end of the hall. One fast swipe of the key card and they were inside. Remy locked the door behind them and flicked on the lights, then pinned her against the nearest wall.
“You are so naughty,” he murmured, his mouth tracing along her jaw, driving her crazy and making her tremble all over.
“I know,” she breathed. “I couldn’t stop myself. For some reason, I don’t seem to have much control over myself when you’re around.”
He pulled back and looked at her for a long moment, then flashed her a sexy smile. “I can’t say that’s a bad thing, necessarily, at least from my perspective.”
Triana opened her mouth to say something witty in reply, but his warm mouth came down on her neck and started to nibble before she could. She rested her head back against the wall with a moan, then quickly bit her lip as she remembered they were in a hotel full of people. She was going to have to keep the noise to a minimum.
Remy clearly wasn’t going to make it easy on her, she thought, inhaling sharply as he nipped her shoulder with his teeth. Okay, she’d never had a guy do that before. But as tingles of pleasure rippled through the rest of her body, she decided she’d been missing out.
She wasn’t sure when Remy got his hands on the hem of her sundress, but one moment he was doing crazy things to her neck, and the next he was dragging the material over her head. He was even able to get her tiny purse off her shoulder without tying her up in it. Before she knew it, she was standing in the entryway of his hotel room wearing nothing but her skimpy bra, a tiny pair of panties, and her strappy high heels.
She was about to make a comment about him being as smooth at undressing her as he was at talking, but the words got stuck in her throat when she caught sight of the hunger on his face. He looked like he wanted to eat her up.
