One More Minute With You

by Sierra Hill

  But Remy made all her dreams come true. The minute she mentioned wanting to have sex in the back of the car, he grabbed her hand and practically dragged her outside to the waiting car. The driver was standing outside and opened the back door of the luxury vehicle. Kenzie hopped in the back, sliding across the leather backseat, feeling the smooth material rub against the back of her thighs. She could already feel the dampness between her legs as she heard Remy say something to the driver.

  Once he was seated next to her, he leaned forward, pressing the button of the window. She bit her lip, watching the tinted screen slowly encase them in the dimly lighted space.

  Without warning, his hands were under her skirt, making their way up between her legs until he found what she had promised.

  “Oh hell,” he hissed. “No panties is so fucking hot.”

  She arched her back into his welcoming hand, his fingers tracing the V at the juncture of her legs, making her lose all conscious thought. She knew they wouldn’t have much time before arriving at the concert, so she took matters into her own hands.

  Kenzie moved to Remy’s lap, straddling him, her skirt bunching at her waist, his hands kneading her thighs. She watched as his eyes darkened and his mouth descended on hers. He tasted of mint and was oh so good. Everything about him was delicious, and she wanted him so bad she could barely breathe.

  She placed her hands on his shoulders as he moved his hands to her hips, pressing his jeans-covered erection to her naked core. Their kiss became ravenous, stealing every breath she had, as she instinctively rolled her hips on top of him, doing her own bump-and-grind.

  Unable to stand it another minute, she reached down to tug his T-shirt free of his waistband and unbuttoned his jeans, opening the fly and shoving the denim down past his hips. She took him into her hand, wrapping herself around his hard shaft and gripping him tight.

  Remy made it so easy for her to act upon her desires, never judging her or making her feel guilty about her actions. She loved this part of their relationship, the intensity and pleasures they gave each other – both giving and receiving in every possible way.

  She broke free from his kiss and leaned back slightly, bringing him to her entrance, pressing him to her wet center. She sucked the air between her teeth, the need coiling low in her belly, fanning out through the rest of her body.

  Without further ado, she slid down over his length, letting him fill her completely, reveling in the pleasured give of her body as it adjusted to his size. They groaned in tandem, his hands digging into her bare ass as he let his head fall back against the headrest.

  “You feel so good,” he murmured, his hips moving underneath her, thrusting in slow, methodical movements. “You’re always so wet and hot for me.”

  She loved it when he said things like that. His voice was so low and deep, the timber of it vibrating need through her body. She studied his face - his eyes were closed, but his handsome features were full of intense concentration and pleasure. His lips were swollen from their kisses and parted slightly in pre-orgasm rapture. He was perfect. The moment was perfect.

  Kenzie rocked against him, her thighs hugging him tightly as she continued to writhe on top of him, finding her own rhythm and pace. She closed her eyes and focused on the sounds of their breathing, the pulsing of his cock inside her body, the movement of the car – all her senses heightened with a clawing need to find her satisfaction.

  Remy palmed the bottom of her ass, his long, measured thrusts bringing heated friction to where she needed it most. She was flying toward the edge, every move of his body against hers sending sparks of electricity to her nerve endings.

  “I’m close, Rem.” She didn’t even recognize her own voice or realize she’d spoken, but heard it echo through the car. It was filled with deep, dark lust. God, she so hoped the backseat was soundproof; otherwise she would be utterly embarrassed when the driver opened the door to let them out.

  “Do it, baby. Let go. I want to feel you come.”

  And she did. With a harsh breath, her hands moved overhead to the low ceiling of the car, pinning herself between Remy and the car roof, gaining leverage that had her rocking against him just right and sending her into oblivion.

  She let out a loud cry, the orgasm rocketing through her body like a rogue wave. “Omigod.” It was all she could seem to say over and over and over again as she was rendered completely stupid, continuing to ride him through the ongoing waves of pleasure.

  As her body and mind slowly returned down to earth from the heavens she’d been catapulted to, Remy’s entire body stilled completely, his grip on her ass tightening as he let out a raspy groan, coming hard and hot inside her. He whispered her name in reverence against her ear, filling her heart with an unexpected jolt of tenderness.

  Even though they’d just fucked fast and furious in the backseat of a limo, her name falling from his lips only solidified what she already knew deep inside the depths of her soul.

  She was so crazy in love with this man.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The behind-the-scenes of the theater was brimming with chaos. Roadies, promoters, reporters and various other agent-type people busily worked the crowds, talking, laughing, drinking, getting high and conducting the business that was rock-and-roll.

  Remy and Kenzie had been met at the backstage door by Deirdre, the woman responsible for their VIP tickets and the limo ride over to the venue. She, of course, was unaware just exactly how erotic that limo ride had been. That was all due to the beautiful woman accompanying him that evening.

  Kenzie rocked his world. Literally rocked it in the back of a limo. She could bring him to his knees with just a look on a normal day – but when she was turned on and consumed with passion, she was a force to be reckoned with. He loved that she was confident in her sexuality but didn’t blatantly use it like other woman he’d been with had. She was the real thing. Sweet, smart and so damn sexy it made his head spin.

  He took her hand in his as they meandered down the tunneled passages as they tried to keep up with their tour guide. Deirdre, the band’s promotions director, was dressed in a dark suit jacket and fitted skirt, looking out-of-place and too businesslike when everyone else was wearing concert T-shirts and leather.

  “Luc has been looking forward to your arrival, Remy,” she said, smiling brightly as she handed them their VIP pass lanyards. “He hasn’t stopped talking about it since he found out you’d be coming tonight.”

  Remy nervously toyed with the laminated pass, avoiding eye contact with Kenzie. He didn’t know how he felt about hearing his father was interested in seeing him. Remy still harbored anger and resentment since the last time he saw his dad, and it had driven a wedge between them. He knew his dad was only trying to show Remy that he loved him – in his own way. But it was impossible to let go of all that negativity in one day. It would take time.

  Remy fumbled for a response. “That’s cool. I guess it’s been awhile since we’ve visited.”

  Deirdre continued to guide them down the busy hallways, passing several rooms and picture-lined walls. All the greats had started their careers there or played in this hall. Dolly. Kenny. Carrie. Keith. An impressive list of who’s who in the country music world. It was strange that his father’s rock band was performing here.

  As if reading his mind, Kenzie asked the question of Deirdre. “So what’s this show tonight? I read in the paper that it’s some sort of benefit.”

  Deirdre stopped in front of them and turned, her eyes fixing directly on Remy’s. He couldn’t read her expression, but he thought he saw understanding. And maybe sympathy?

  “Oh, it’s in honor of the new charity Luc started. The Renada Martins’ Cancer Research Foundation.”

  Remy’s felt like he’d been given the proverbial left hook to the jaw. Had he just heard her right? The Renada Martins’ foundation? As in, his late mother? What the hell was that all about? His father hadn’t even loved his mother enough to be at her side when she was dying, much less
set up some bogus charity organization in her honor. What a crock of shit. His father was such a fucking phony.

  Kenzie must have noticed the sudden change in Remy’s demeanor because she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

  “That’s impressive and very sweet,” she commented, turning to look him in his eyes. “I’m sure your mother would have really appreciated it, Remy.”

  He grumbled in agreement, still lost in the whole absurdity of it all. It was obviously just some sort of publicity stunt meant to attract attention to the aging rock band that had seen its heyday come and go. And what galled him the most was that his father had never even asked him if he could use his mother’s name to front this charity. His father was using the memory of his late mother to make himself look like some benevolent, bereaved widower, and it made Remy sick to his stomach.

  He wanted to turn right back around and get the hell out of Dodge, flipping his dad the finger as he left. But it was too late. Deirdre stopped in front of a door and knocked, waiting the briefest of moments before Luc’s voice told them to enter.

  Remy took a steadying breath, trying desperately to tamp down the anger that was brewing, ready to blow like a tea kettle whistle. He exhaled and willed himself to remain calm no matter what his father said or did.

  Placing his hand on the small of Kenzie’s back, he led her through the dressing room door, closing it behind them. His father sat in front of the brightly lit dressing table mirror. He was on the phone speaking animatedly in French, his hands gesturing frantically – so very French-like.

  “Oui. Tu me manques tellement. Au revoir, ma chère.” He must have been speaking to his wife because he just told her he missed her more.

  They stood waiting in the corner of the room as Deirdre shuffled through some paperwork that she placed in front of Luc to sign. He ignored the papers and turned to them both, the excitement evident in his smile.

  With outstretched arms, he jumped up and embraced Remy, who stiffened at his touch.

  “Mon fils, Remy. I’m so glad you are here,” he exclaimed, his voice deep and thick with both accent and emotion. Stepping back to admire him, Luc kissed both of his cheeks. “You look well. C’est bon.”

  He then turned his attention to Kenzie. “And who is this beautiful young woman with you? Elle est très belle”

  Remy tried to keep his anger in check, his hand clutching tightly to Kenzie’s, the warmth of her hand calming his temper. He kept his voice calm and his breathing focused as he responded to his father.

  “Dad, this is my girlfriend, Kenzie Daniels. Kenzie, this is my dad, Luc Martins.”

  He wasn’t surprised with the look Kenzie gave him when he introduced her as his girlfriend. They’d not spoken about what their relationship represented, but it seemed odd to call her anything else. She was everything to him – friend, lover, roommate, writing partner. Girlfriend didn’t even come close to putting a name to what she really meant to him.

  Her surprise quickly turned into a star-struck fan excitement.

  She shook Luc’s hand with such ferocity that Remy laughed.

  “Oh my God, Mr. Martins. It is just such an honor to meet you. I’ve been a huge fan of your band since I was young. You have no idea how much your music means to me. Wow. I’m just thrilled beyond belief.”

  Remy knew without even looking at his father’s face that he would turn on his rocker sexy charm. He’d seen it thousands of times throughout the years and often emulated it himself when he wanted to get into a girl’s pants. It was cruel irony, though, that it would now be used on Kenzie.

  Luc held Kenzie’s hand in both of his, slowly and seductively bringing it to his mouth where he placed a feather light kiss across her knuckles. Her little flirty, fangirl giggle said it all.

  God, that pissed him off.

  “Ma Cherie. Tu es très magnifique. Son, you have taken after your father, non? Only the most beautiful women for us.”

  The words alone made his skin crawl. But the sheer sexualized tone of his voice made him want to haul off and deck him. How dare he compare his tastes, or anything about Remy, to himself. Luc Martins was a fucking selfish user of people – women in particular. And Remy was nothing like him.

  His anger got the best of him as he gripped Kenzie’s hips and dragged her back against him, her hand jerking from Luc’s grip.

  “I’m nothing like you,” he hissed under his breath.

  Just then an assistant popped his head in to give him a ten minute warning.

  “Mr. Martins,” the young man interrupted apologetically. “You’re due out on stage in ten minutes. Here’s the lemon tea you requested.” The kid handed him a tray filled with a steaming tea pot, cup and assortment of tea fixings. Luc nodded over to his dressing room table.

  “Thank you, Kirk. I’ll be out.”

  Kirk turned and left the room closing the door behind him, leaving the three of them alone once again in the crackling silence. The room suddenly felt cloistering and claustrophobic.

  His father’s voice broke through the quiet. “Kenzie, I’m ashamed to admit this, but my son Remy and I have not spoken much over the years, for which I am to blame. Due to that unfortunate situation, I know so very little of what’s going on in his life. But by all appearances, he’s in good hands. Please, tell me a little about yourself.”

  Kenzie looked diffident, glancing over at Remy in a helpless response. His dad was right about one thing, she really was magnificently beautiful. Her cheeks were pink from nerves and her eyes a dazzling green from excitement.

  “Oh, well…there’s really not a lot to tell about me. I moved here from Seattle after graduating. I want to be a singer/songwriter. I met Remy about two months ago at the diner where I work, and he offered me a room to rent. And, we just finished writing and recording a demo together.” She spoke in a fast-paced, breathlessly excited voice. Remy wanted nothing more than to kiss her. She was so sweet when she was nervous.

  Luc raised his eyebrows in interest, his smile knowing. “A demo, huh? Remy did not mention this.”

  Of course he didn’t mention it to Luc. He wanted nothing from him. Remy had been doing everything on his own for years, and he didn’t need to rely on his father for his fame or fortune. Or fatherly advice.

  “Yes. Remy is an amazing singer and songwriter. He’s very talented. I’m guessing that’s a family trait.”

  Kenzie’s smile and compliment tore open his heart. She radiated light. Even though he felt uncomfortable talking about this in front of his father, and divulging anything about his music to him, he felt a surge of pride hearing the words of praise from the woman he’d fallen for. The woman he loved.

  “Ah, yes. My son is truly a natural. Do you know he started playing the piano when he was only three years old? And the guitar when he was seven. I still remember the first song he wrote about a squirrel in the backyard. He has a way with words,” he said, chuckling at his own memory.

  Kenzie let out a boisterous laugh, her hand covering her mouth when she accidentally let out a very unladylike snort. Her eyes met Remy’s, and he could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment from his father’s comment. Why was it that parents could always find a way to embarrass their children, no matter what age they were?

  She leaned into him, pressing her shoulder against his. “Oh geez, that is just adorable. I need to hear that sometime.”

  “Not gonna happen. And thanks, Dad, for bringing up that humiliating factoid.”

  Luc just shrugged his shoulders in indifference. “Perhaps you’ll want to share with me your new songs so I can see if your songwriting has improved over the years. Although, nothing can compare to a line about squirrel nuts.”

  Okay, that was kind of funny.

  Remy couldn’t help himself when a laugh burst out of his gut.

  “Yeah, I remember spending hours watching the squirrels run around in the backyard and finding them to be very worthy writing material. And Mom would sprinkle seeds and bread crumbs out there so they were
sure to come back.”

  Remy stopped himself, his smile faltered, the realization hitting him like a brick to his head. He’d just made the mistake of actually laughing with his dad, but even worse - much worse - sharing a memory with him about his mother. The pain of it hurt like a motherfucker.

  His dad did not deserve to participate with him in this walk down memory lane. Luc Martins gave up that right when he walked out on his son and his dying mother.

  Kenzie clearly noticed the sudden change in his stance and squeezed his hand again, her fingers gently caressing his knuckles. He squeezed back, loosening just slightly.

  “Remy…” Luc began, his intonation heavy with the rolled R. “I am truly…”

  Remy held up his hand, halting anything else his father might say. He didn’t want to get into this right now, especially in front of Kenzie. In fact, if he had his preference, he’d never have to speak of it again. His father’s decision to leave them like that so long ago made certain that Remy would never trust him again or care what he had to say.

  “Just stop. I don’t want to hear it. You have to get out on stage now. Thanks for inviting us tonight. Have a good show.” His voice sounded clipped and irritated, but he didn’t care.

  Remy turned to go, ready to get out of the dressing room and away from his father as quickly as possible. His dad stepped forward, cutting him off, moving in to wrap his arms around Remy and placed a kiss on both cheeks.

  “Thank you, Son. I will see you after the show.” Luc let go and turned toward Kenzie, cupping her face in his hands. “And you, ma chère. You are beautiful and I can see my son cares for you very deeply. I will see you very soon.”

  Luc opened the dressing room door and began to step out, but not before returning his attention to Remy. His father’s eyes were downcast, his shoulders hunched in defeat.

  “Je t’adore, mon fils. Please forgive me. I am truly sorry.”