Havoc

by Autumn Grey

  And as if it was as natural for him as breathing, his fingers circled the nape of my neck, pulling me close. My mouth parted, ready. Waiting, but he only pressed a kiss on each of my cheeks.

  "Bonne nuit, Selene," he whispered against my skin, turning and walking away from me.

  "Goodnight, Remington," I murmured, rubbing my fingers on the place his lips had been.

  NOT MUCH happened the next few days. I hadn't seen or heard from Remington since the lunch in the park. However, he had made his presence known by making sure I was well fed. Just yesterday, he had one of his staff deliver a huge bag of cotton candy with his usual red-wax sealed letter. I kind of missed him even though it didn't make sense to miss someone I had known for a few days.

  My next assignment was a lingerie photo shoot, and until then, I was free. My agent in New York had spread my assignments out so I could have some free time. As much as I missed my mom, dad, and sister, I wasn't ready to go back home. I needed some time away to clear my mind. Live before I moved into the next phase of my life. I'd already accumulated enough money to start my own business designing plus-size lingerie.

  Andrew was busy planning upcoming events, and Grace had travelled to Germany for work. So I spent my early mornings either in the gym, going for walks and jogging, or letting myself be pampered in the hotel's spa. I hadn't felt this relaxed and spoiled in a very long time.

  One evening, I was readying myself to go out to Arena 31, a recommendation from Èric, the waiting staff who was becoming a regular at my doorstep at the hotel. There was no way I was going to spend the night indoors when Paris sparkled with life outside my four walls. When Andrew called to check on me, we made plans to meet in the club.

  When choosing my ensemble, I was going for elegant, yet flirty. I chose a sleeveless black skater dress with gold filigree on the front bodice, jammed my stocking-clad feet into a pair of gold heels, and put on a knee-length trench coat to keep the night chill away. Then, I was out the door with a gold clutch tucked under my arm. Adele was still at my disposal, but today, I wanted something different so I ended up taking a taxi. Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside Arena 31, in front of a suited-up, tall man with familiar blue eyes.

  "Èric?"

  A slow grin appeared on his lips. "Madame Michaels." He opened his arms as if he wanted to hug me, then seemed to remember himself and held out his hand in greeting. He was a hyper one, this guy.

  I wrinkled my nose. "You've seen me in my, um… pajamas and dry drool around my mouth. Selene will do," I said. His face turned red, obviously remembering two days ago when he delivered dinner at ten o'clock, courtesy of my Sexy Knight in Brooding Armor who seemed to keep an avid eye on me, making sure I was well-fed. I'd fallen asleep at six in the evening, promising to wake myself up to order room service, but was startled awake and raced to the door without really checking how I looked. I realized too late that one side of my camisole had hiked up, revealing a breast. We carefully had circumvented that little episode ever since.

  "So you moonlight as a bouncer?" I asked, scanning the entrance and beyond, frowning. A woman dressed in a short leather dress that barely covered her ass, and thigh-high boots sashayed past me, followed by a group of men and women wearing clothing that showed a varying degree of their skin. Was I overdressed?

  He nodded, then seemed to sense my confusion because his grin widened. "It’s Fantasy Friday. Everyone dresses in what they have been fantasizing about, something they cannot do in public."

  "Oh." Apparently, the clubbers seemed to fantasize about showing a lot of skin.

  My phone pinged. It was Andrew asking me where I was. After waving to Èric, I ambled inside, careful not to touch any exposed skin, and a lot of it was hanging out. By the time I shouldered my way to where Andrew and his wife, Marie, sat, I had been bumped, grinded, and my hands had touched places they had no business touching.

  "So you didn't get the memo either, huh?" I asked after hugging Andrew and Marie. He was attired in dress slacks and a white shirt, and Marie wore a cute short, white, lace dress.

  "It's my first time here. We know what to do next time, don't we, gorgeous?" He pulled Marie close, and quickly took her lips in a deep kiss. Even after having three kids and being married for almost eight years, they behaved as they did when I first met them.

  "Jeez, it's fantasy night where people play dress-up. I don't think it was a voyeur invitation to a kiss-her-like-you-want-to-fuck-her night," I said, laughing.

  They pulled apart. "Don't give him ideas, Selene," Marie said with a giggle, tucking herself into her husband.

  My chest tightened as I watched how easy they were with each other. How in love they were. Don't get me wrong, if anyone deserved to be happy, Andrew did. He'd had a lot of crap growing up. He'd moved from home to home, unable to find a couple who'd take him in. His parents had died in a car crash, and because they'd been estranged from their own parents, no one was willing to care for him. Eventually, a couple took him in, giving him the love he deserved and the medical attention he needed.

  I couldn't help the sliver of jealousy snaking through my gut though. We ordered wine for Marie and me, and beer for Andrew, then sat back and chatted while watching the semi-naked crowd on the floor. The music kept changing from one fast beat to another. I wasn't good with all the hopping everyone was doing on the dance floor, so I just kept swaying my body in a slower beat until I saw Èric making his way toward us, grinning. He was cute—the dark blond, ice-blue eyes kind of hotness.

  "Any chance of requesting something that doesn't involve breaking an ankle?" I shouted above the music so he could hear me. He nodded and winked at me before striding away toward the DJ's cubicle.

  "The boy likes you," Andrew said, his bottle pressed to his lips, studying me under his lashes.

  I rolled my eyes. "I'm like his mother."

  Did Èric like me? I had seen his eyes linger too long on my chest, but yeah, that could have been because he'd seen more than he should have.

  Oh God, I'd almost blinded the kid.

  "He does, Selene," Marie piped in. "Lock the boy down before some girl snatches him away. You have like six years age difference between you two. It's not so bad."

  "You two are crazy." I laughed, standing and swaying as the music changed to a slower, seductive beat. "Come on, you two." I grabbed both their hands, dragging them to the floor.

  Marie and I danced around Andrew until the song ended. As another song started, Andrew snatched Marie, at the same time, he shoved a passing Èric in my arms. And boy, Èric was a good dancer, light on his feet.

  "Aren't you going to be fired?"

  "It'd be worth it," he whispered in my neck, a smile on his lips.

  Am I actually going to do this?

  "Just this song and then you go back to work. I don't want you getting in trouble." He stared at me, giving me a look resembling one from a dog that'd been kicked in the ribs. Oh, shucks! "So, you're a bouncer," I said, trying to come up with something to talk about while our bodies got used to each other's movements.

  "Oui. The benefits are amazing."

  Oh, man, he's tall and really cute, especially when he grins at me like that. He's going to make some woman very happy someday.

  "Benefits, really?" I raised a brow at him. "Did you always want to work in a hotel? It seems like music is more your thing."

  "I like to interact with people and working in Hotel Catherine gives me the opportunity. I trained for combat in the army, but unfortunately had to leave due to an injury. I went back to school to study hotel management and the rest is history. Now, I work nights in clubs and get to meet beautiful women." He gave me a crooked smile, waggling his eyebrows.

  I laughed just as he twirled me around. His hands moved around my waist, framing my body, then slid down my legs. I gasped, swiveling around to face him, missing a couple of steps, and when I righted myself, I was in Remington's arms. "Bonsoir, Selene."

  "Remington?" My heart was beating fast, and I
blinked several times to make sure the god holding me was real.

  I had missed him. Sort of. And I wondered again if it was logical to miss someone you've known for a few days.

  "What are you doing here? Where's Èric?"

  He pulled me flush to his body, pressing his cheek on mine. His arms were like bands of steel around me as if he had no intention of letting go. "Was he your date?"

  God, his voice did me in.

  "No, he referred me to this place. How did you know I'd be here?"

  Not that I was objecting.

  He suddenly swung me around, his hold secure. Sure. Confident. And when he brought me back to his body, my breasts pressed against his hard, hard chest, his hands automatically went to my hips as if they belonged there. "Andrew, but you already know that. I want to have your number so I don't have to threaten to throttle him for your whereabouts every time. Did you miss me?"

  I smiled, laying my face on his shoulder. "Did you?"

  He sighed. "Yes, I did. I couldn't stay away for long." He pulled me tighter into him and moved one hand from my hip, sliding up my arm until he found my hand and linked our fingers together. The other hand skimmed my hip and came to rest on my lower back, pushing me to him right there, where I could feel the huge bulge in his pants. I shivered and snuggled closer, enjoying the feel of his arms on my body more than I probably should. The music continued to pound all around us. I inched closer, subtly inhaling his cologne that smelled minty with a slight woodsy edge in it.

  Not knowing what to do with my free hand, I let it drift upward to his neck, twirling my fingers around the silky, soft hair on the nape. The longer we danced, the tighter he held me until I was certain not even air could pass between our bodies. I felt the hand on my lower back flex several times before it framed me harder.

  "Mon Dieu, your arse. I want to play dirty. Bite. Lick. And bite again."

  I giggled, swaying, feeling happy and free and intoxicated by being around him. "What happened to the Brooding Remington?"

  "Brooding?" he asked, pulling back to peer down at me, his lips twitching slightly. "I do not brood. How much did you drink?"

  "One or two glasses of wine. Oh, yes, you've mastered the art of brooding," I said, shimmying my shoulders. I didn't make a habit of drinking too much, especially in social gatherings with crowded places. I was too paranoid someone might slip one of those infamous date rape drugs into my drink. Or I might not be in control of what happened around me. He pulled me closer. I could feel his erection pressing harder on my belly, and I felt delirious that I had this effect on him. Did he just grow bigger in his pants? "Tell me what else you'd do to this ass of mine."

  He cocked his head to the side and stared at me through narrowed eyes. "I would rather show you than tell you." His eyes remained on mine the entire time, watching me. Devouring me. Sending every single breath in me scattering. I was lost in his touch. Lost in his gaze and in the middle of a thousand gyrating bodies, it was him and only him. His heart was beating fast and hard where our chests met, or maybe it was mine. But holy shit! Remington St. Germain was very intense, sexy, and enthralling. I could feel him in my veins like a drug.

  "Have dinner with me," he murmured in my ear.

  I didn't answer him immediately. I couldn't. My mind was still trying to catch up and regroup. I let my eyes wander aimlessly around the space full of clubbers. Remington seemed to sense my reluctance; he didn't pressure me. Just held me close, swayed with me, let me be.

  "Yes, I'll have dinner with you." I finally breathed out the words; my gaze fleetingly fell on a man a few feet away. His fierce gaze flicked around the room, before returning to where Remington and I were standing. He put on a pair of dark sunglasses, and then turned and left. He looked very familiar. "Remington, who's that man over there?"

  His arms tensed around me. "What man?"

  "Over there. I swear I've seen that face before in the past few days."

  "Probably one of the bouncers from the club."

  I snorted. I felt how his body tensed at what I said. In addition, there was the mysterious letter and the tiny piece of paper I'd snatched from the floor. I needed a clear mind to think about all of these things.

  When the song ended, I leaned into Remington's ear and told him I needed a break. My heels were killing me and I needed to rest my feet. As soon as I slid back into our seats, Remington followed keeping a respectful distance, despite the way we danced. Then he pulled my feet onto his lap and removed my heels.

  God, his touch was as beautiful and exhilarating as the man himself.

  He beckoned a passing waiter while massaging my feet; this time, I asked for water and he ordered a beer. Remington was here, and given the way I was reacting to him, I wanted to think clearly. I had been brave and shockingly flirtatious on the dance floor but now, I was scared of what I might do if I were fully intoxicated.

  We spent the next two hours talking and laughing with Andrew and Marie, hopping on the floor at intervals and switching partners. The more I watched him, especially when he was dancing with Marie or seemed deep in thought, the more fascinated I became. Every time he took her hand and pulled her to the floor, I wanted to pull him back to me. Of course, they were just friends and I knew he wasn't really mine. What right did I have to feel jealous?

  It didn't stop me though.

  After we said our good-byes to Andrew and Marie, Remington drove me back to the hotel, and just like the last time, walked me to the elevator and stopped.

  "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow. Wear something to show off those curves and leave your hair like this. I like it." He leaned forward, brushing a thumb across my lips, and bringing his lips to my ear, which sent a shiver scuttling down my spine. "I like it so damn much."

  Gah! This man was going to destroy me with his words and his dark, seductive voice. He was as devastatingly charming as he was frighteningly broody.

  "Well then." I found my mouth leading the way, letting my brain catch-up. "It seems as though pleasing you might be in my best interest too, kind sir."

  The amusement in his face vanished, and for a second I thought I'd said something wrong until I noticed his eyes darkening and his long, spiked lashes lowering. His gaze dropped to my mouth for several moments as he just stared.

  He inhaled deeply, seeming to need all his energy to drag air into his lungs.

  "Until tomorrow, Selene." He brushed his knuckles along my jaw to my mouth, lightly touching my lips with the tips of his fingers, leaving a trail of heat on my skin. All I could do was just stand there, looking into his eyes, hypnotized and savoring the slight tremble in his fingers. "I have this overwhelming need to find out how it feels to kiss you." And before I can say, "Shut up and kiss me," he stepped back and squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds. And when he opened them, hunger still shone bright in his eyes. He shook his head as if to clear it and then walked away, leaving me with a perfect view of his tight butt framed in those black pants. I realized I had a thing for his butt. How could I resist when it all but screamed, Bite me, spank me?

  And I have this overwhelming need to do all sorts of things—some of them probably banned in several countries—with your mouth and your butt, Remington St. Germain.

  I shook my head, smiling as an idea began to form in my head, and as I walked into my room, it bloomed into something so frighteningly exciting.

  Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

  IF ANYONE would have told me a few days ago that I'd be heading out for a date with Remington St. Germain, I'd have thought them insane. Nevertheless, here I was, planning what to wear.

  I stepped out of the shower, rubbed a towel on my hair to dry it, and headed for the bed where everything was perfectly laid out. After slipping on white, seamless, silk underwear with lace trimming around the waist and a bra and garter stockings to match, I sat on the vanity close to the window to do my makeup.

  Remington stood at the door at exactly seven o'clock. If Remington in jeans, cable knit sweater, an
d a blazer looked hot, Remington in a tuxedo looked simply stunning. My gaze moved upward, halting every single dirty thought beginning to pour through my head.

  Something was wrong. His chest rose and fell rapidly as though he were struggling to breathe. Tiny beads of sweat popped up on his forehead. His face was flushed and his fingers were trembling at his side. He looked… frightened.

  "Hey," I said, moving aside to let him in.

  My hand automatically pressed on his forehead without thinking. He leaned his head into my palm, his eyes falling shut.

  No fever. I dropped my hand, and his eyes snapped open, giving me a clear view of the turmoil thrashing within. What had him so shaken? God, this was worrisome. And for just a second, I wondered if he had different personalities. Did Andrew forget to warn me about this?

  "Come in and sit down for a bit." I took his hand when he showed no sign of following me inside.

  He lowered himself onto the chair and as I turned to grab a bottle of water for him, he buried his face in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees.

  As soon as he had the water in his hands, he downed three quarters of it before lowering the bottle. Then he sat back as color returned to his face.

  Not sure what to say or do, I sank into the seat beside him, waiting. Was the dinner still on? Or maybe cancelling the whole thing was the better option?

  "I've never had anyone so enthusiastic about taking me to dinner before." I tossed him a look.

  He lifted those stunning, green eyes, now clear of torment, and scrutinized me for what felt like minutes, his expression unreadable.

  Then he chuckled, and soon it turned into full-blown laughter. Such a beautiful sound from a delicious mouth.

  "I arrive at your door, looking like some mad man, and all you do is make a joke of it?"

  I shrugged, smiling. "I have a black belt in karate. I could kick your ass before you had a chance to touch me."

  He blinked. "You do?"

  I laughed. "Not really. I always wondered how it would feel to say that so casually though."