Havoc

by Autumn Grey

  "Turn around and look at me, Selene," Remington said roughly. I did and we stared at each other. For some reason I felt embarrassed, which was weird because I really enjoyed what his mouth did to me.

  "You're so responsive," he said, finger combing my hair.

  If only he knew!

  The last time anyone touched me sexually was my husband. Even then, he'd just groped my breast, stuck his dick inside me, and when he was done, he pulled out and walked out the bedroom door without looking back.

  Now, in the hands of another man, I fell apart like it was my first time having sex. Which only made me feel a bit awkward. What was the etiquette for facing the man who just gave you your first epic oral in your life?

  What do I do?

  "Hey, are you okay?" He tugged my chin up to stare into my eyes and I could feel heat spreading over my cheeks. He narrowed his eyes. "You have the most expressive eyes. For a minute there, I thought I lost you. Where did you go, Selene?"

  "I'm here," I said, as he helped me to my feet. "I just… Did you come?"

  He kissed my hair and chuckled softly. "I wanted to fuck you so badly. When we snuck in here, that was what I had in mind. I've never held back before, but I did." He shook his head as if he couldn't understand why he did. "I want to be inside you when I do that. Is that what has you troubled?"

  I opened my mouth but closed it again and shook my head. My mind was still tangled up in so many thoughts I was afraid I would say something I'd regret later. "We need to go."

  I turned to leave, but he caught my elbow turning me around. "Believe me, Selene, I need to be inside you like I need my next breath. But"—he waved his hand around the room—"not here."

  I nodded, unable to talk. I wasn't sure what bothered me more. The fact that I liked him more than I thought I would or shocked by how fast I was getting used to him.

  We left the room, my eyes focused forward as we passed a group of men, heading toward one of the lounge rooms. Heat filled my cheeks as a few eyes wandered to the sexy beast beside me and me. Did I look as ravished as I felt? Remington's hand on my waist was gentle as he tugged me into him, yet claiming. Secure.

  After paying for our dinner, he grabbed my hand and led me outside. We hopped in the car as soon as the valet brought it around. As much as my feelings were all over the place, I didn't want the night to end.

  He placed a hand on my knee, squeezing it a little. "What are you thinking about, Selene?"

  "I had a lot of fun tonight, thank you."

  "It's not over yet." He grinned at me, looking very carefree and young. I realized he'd been like this the entire evening, other than when he arrived on my doorstep. He turned his focus back to the road. "You wanted adventure. I'm the man to give you that."

  We left the restaurant and fifteen minutes later, parked in front of what looked like a warehouse. He left his side of the car and came to mine. Holding out his hand to me, he led me toward the building. Giving me a playful look, he turned and removed something from his pocket and angled it in front of us. Immediately, the pull-down metal doors on the building slid slowly up, revealing a sleek, black sports car. It reminded me of a panther.

  "What are we doing, Remington?" I asked as excitement and fear ratcheted up a notch.

  "Have you never ridden in a sports car before?"

  I shook my head, my eyes still on the car.

  "Consider this your first." He grabbed my hips, pulling me into him. "It looks like we have a lot of firsts ahead of us."

  Then he kissed me hard, snapping me out of my daze. I could live in this man's mouth forever.

  "Ready?" he asked as soon as we were inside the car, safely buckled.

  Feeling the high from being inside this car and the smell of leather surrounding us, I nodded, grinning widely and gripping my seat.

  The thing roared to life, sending heat rushing through my veins and arousal between my legs.

  Holy wow!

  Remington pressed on the gas and the car sped off, throwing my body against the seat. I screamed and laughed as he raced through the streets around the outskirts of Paris. At one point, I wasn't even sure where we were, but by that time, I trusted him to keep us safe.

  BY THE time he drove me back to the hotel in the Phantom, I was breathless with exhilaration from the ride. We stopped at the elevators and he warily glanced at the steel doors. But when he leveled a hungry gaze on my mouth, my excitement morphed into lust. He tilted his head, licked his lips, and he leaned toward me. He pressed his hands to my cheeks and I felt them tremble, whether from the adrenaline of racing or from desire, I couldn't tell. His eyes fell shut as his mouth met mine, softly kissing me as if learning the map of my lips with his own. Gently, he pulled my upper lip into his mouth, sucking gently. He never went past my lips, yet it was the softest and most erotic kiss I had ever experienced. I wanted to see him as he kissed me, so I didn't close my eyes. I was rewarded with the most blissful look I've ever seen on anyone's face.

  "Bonne nuit, Selene," he whispered against my lips, his eyes now open and watching me, watching him.

  "Bonne nuit, Remington."

  He leaned back and strode away, leaving me clutching the wall by the elevators.

  Remington St. Germain's kiss had just spoiled me for other men.

  YESTERDAY WAS one of the most enjoyable evenings I'd had in a long time. Admittedly, my ex and I had dined out while dating. After getting married, everything went well until things started to dwindle and finally stop. Most nights, I found myself eating alone or heading over to my parents’ for dinner. So the past few days were stuck in my Hall of Great Memories. Maybe it had to do with me finally not letting anything hold me back. Or maybe it was Remington. I could see myself becoming addicted to him. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I had to tread carefully—have fun, but keep my heart out of it.

  My phone, on a towel beside me, vibrated before playing a classical music tone. I frowned and shifted on the bench where I was sitting inside Hotel Catherine's swanky indoor swimming pool. When I picked it up, heat crept up my cheeks as I saw the name on the display. I didn't remember having that tone. Remington probably added it yesterday when he put his number in my phone.

  "Don't tell me you're one of those classical music-obsessed guys who can't function without it."

  Remington's chuckle was slow, and as usual, seductive. How did he manage to do that so effortlessly? I bet he had no idea how sensual that sound was.

  "I am one of those classical music-obsessed guys. Would you like to come over?"

  Smiling, I sat up on the bench, pulling my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knees. "Hmm. What's my incentive?"

  "Adrien is having some friends over in my house and I need company."

  His son was enough to make me grin like a fool. He was so cute and—

  I stilled, freezing my train of thought. I could not think like that. This was someone else's child and I was already forming a mental bond with him, yet I would be leaving in three months.

  I wonder what my therapist would say to that.

  "Selene?"

  Remington's voice snapped me back to the conversation.

  "Sorry, um… I drifted off for a bit."

  He was quiet for a few moments. "Are you all right?" His voice was low and worried.

  "Yes. It is a bad habit of mine. Just ignore me." I laughed nervously. "What were you saying?"

  "The incentive, I'll feed you. Not only am I one of 'France's sexiest fathers,' I'm an excellent cook."

  "Careful there, St. Germain. Your head might not fit through the doorway if you aren't careful."

  He laughed. "So what do you say?"

  "I suppose I'm in the mood to be fed and spoiled."

  "You have no idea how much I want to spoil you, Selene." His voice was low and intimate, sending a thousand tiny shivers all over my body.

  I closed my eyes tight, biting my lip. "You're good with words, Remington."

  "I'm good with other things as well."
r />   I blew out a breath, opened my eyes, and looked around. A few hotel guests were scattered around the pool area, all appearing to be distracted in one-way or another.

  "I'll send someone to pick you up in twenty minutes."

  I was dressed and waiting in the lobby ten minutes later. I was wearing fitted jeans with a chiffon blouse and a light sweater. It was an afternoon with kids playing around the house so my makeup was minimal. And anyway, I might end up having food and who knows what else tossed on my face.

  Even that thought didn't take away the excitement of seeing Remington and Adrien. In fact, I was looking forward to it.

  A man who looked like he could lift a small hill with his bare hands entered the lobby and slid off his sunglasses. I knew him. He was the same guy who'd been talking to Andrew and Remington at Saint Bernadette. His eyes zeroed in on me as he strode or rather prowled toward me. My back straightened as he halted in front of me.

  "Madame Michaels?"

  "Yes."

  "Monsieur St. Germain sent me. This way, please."

  "Where's Adele?" I blurted out. This guy was very scary. The impassive look in his eyes didn't make him appear any friendlier.

  He just stared at me before jerking his head toward the entrance, and then turned around. I quickly pulled out my phone.

  Who's the Vin Diesel guy you just sent?

  I stood up and adjusted the strap of my handbag on my shoulder. Gripping my phone, I hurried after him and then stopped as my phone pinged in my hand.

  Adele is off today. Sorry I forgot to tell you Gilles was picking you up. He is a good friend of mine. You're safe with him.

  My step faltered. Safe with him? I pressed send and the answer popped up immediately.

  I meant he is a good driver. Almost as good as me. ;)

  I laughed, followed Gilles to his car, and made a mental note to knock his ego down a few notches when I finally saw him.

  Ten minutes into the drive to Remington's townhouse at Montmartre, I noticed Gilles's head quickly darting to the mirrors every few minutes. His eyes were safely hidden behind his sunglasses again. Turning in my seat, I craned my neck back to check what had him so jittery. I didn't see anything unusual. Traffic was light this time of day.

  I leaned back in my seat, the same uneasiness I'd felt the past week coiling in my stomach. I was so lost in thought that when Gilles suddenly swerved the car and dashed into a side road, I shrieked, shaking in my seat. Horns blared and car wheels screeched on the tarmac outside the window.

  "What happened?" I asked, my hand on my chest, darting a glance out the window and back to Gilles.

  "Just avoiding some crazy drivers on the road." His voice suited him. Rough, deep, and rumbly.

  I glanced out the window again. Gilles was driving on a narrow street, frequently checking the mirrors. As the Peugeot slowed at some traffic lights, the car suddenly shook hard. I screamed, throwing my hands around my head and shoving it between my knees.

  Oh, God, OH, MY FREAKING GOD!

  Silence descended. The only sound was the pulse beating violently in my ears and my labored breathing.

  "Gilles?" I called, lifting my head slightly and looking around.

  "Everything's all right, Madame Michaels." His voice sounded strained. I pulled my hands down cautiously, peeking around his seat. "Everything is fine," he said while dialing his phone. Seconds later, he was talking in a low voice. My French wasn't the best—even though my mother had insisted on speaking to my sister and me in her mother language and I regretted not making the effort—but danger and car were tossed around a lot. Then his voice dropped further and I leaned forward. It was nosy and probably rude, but if this was about me, I had to know.

  “I didn't see the face,” Gilles was saying. “The idiot drove away before I could catch the plate number.” Then, “She is okay. She asked but I didn't tell her.”

  Suddenly, rage flared inside me. I fisted my hands on my lap and my body shook with pent-up fear. That unsettling feeling I'd had for a while now spread through my chest and by the time we arrived at Remington's place, I was ready to explode.

  What if… what if…

  I shook my head as all kinds of possibilities rushed through my thoughts.

  If this person, whoever it was, was after me… but no, I wasn't that famous. I'd heard of models being stalked, but I was just a small person in a sea of fashion.

  I had to talk to Remington before I drove myself insane.

  Glancing up from my hands, I realized Gilles was standing there, watching me, waiting. I couldn't tell what he was thinking behind those sunglasses. Slinging my handbag strap around my shoulder, I placed my hand in his and allowed him to help me from the car, and somehow, my nerves settled a bit.

  REMINGTON WASN'T in the living room or the kitchen when I walked into the house, but I could hear voices drifting from somewhere inside.

  I dashed upstairs in search of the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, grabbed some tissues, and flipped the toilet seat to sit down, waiting for my nerves to settle. After quickly reapplying my eyeliner and lip-gloss, I tossed everything back into my bag and left the bathroom.

  Remington was leaning on the wall outside the bathroom door, his arms folded across his chest. The white T-shirt hugged his chest and upper arms, and a pair of blue jeans framed his muscular thighs.

  Voices drifted from downstairs, a child squealed followed by laughter so infectious I wanted to head down to join them.

  But Remington was back to being Mister Intense.

  "Are you okay?"

  I walked around him to lean on the wall next to him, leaning my head back. "Am I okay? Hmm. No. Not really." I rolled my head to the side to face him, pretending I was calm, but deep down my stomach still twisted at the memory of what happened on our way to his home. "What's going on, Remington?"

  He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped in front of me, placing one arm on the wall beside my head. He leaned forward, running his nose along my jaw. "Nothing you need to worry about."

  I inhaled deeply and held my breath, fighting the shiver travelling down my spine. "Does this have anything to do with me?"

  He placed the other arm on the other side of my face, caging me in, and pressed his lips to the side of my neck.

  I groaned, moving my head to the side. "Oh God, Remington." My fingers twined in his hair. “You’re distracting me, St. Germain." I brought my lips to his, kissing him deeply before pulling apart. "I want to know."

  He buried his face into the crook of my neck, his warm breath on my skin. "Let's talk about this later, yes?"

  "No."

  He pulled back to look at me. "Not right now. Not with the children here."

  I huffed out a breath, breaking his gaze to stare in the direction of the stairs. "Fine. No distractions?"

  He grabbed my chin, forcing my attention back to him. "No distractions."

  As we descended the stairs, Adrien saw his father and me and came hurtling toward us, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

  "Selene!" he shouted, flashing the cute grin I'd fallen in love with the moment I saw those green eyes staring down at me.

  Dropping Remington's hand, I hurried down the stairs and scooped him in my arms. I squeezed him gently, savoring the feel of his little, squirming body.

  "How are you, tiger?"

  He pulled back, slapping a hand over his mouth, giggling. "Good. Papa? Can we swim outside?"

  "It's cold out—"

  Adrien interrupted, pleading his case in a torrent of French words. Laughing, I put him back on the floor, tossed my bag on a side table, and headed to the kitchen to see what I could do to help.

  "Did you do all this?" I asked, glancing at the tray of food in front of me.

  "I told you I was a good cook." He winked, and I laughed. He looked so carefree and beautiful, and I loved how self-confident he was in his masculinity. It was such a huge turn-on.

  "You managed to handle those kids out there on your own?"


  He nodded and smiled briefly. "I have been doing this, having Adrien's friends come over to play, for years. When you are the father and mother of a less than one-year-old child, you learn to take things in stride. Sometimes Adele helps and at times, when I have a lot of work to do in my office, I hire help. But mostly, I do it myself. I would do anything for him."

  Oh my. How did this man manage to leave me breathless with just his words and actions?

  I walked to where he stood, slid my hand to the back of his neck, pulled him down to me, and kissed him hard on the lips. I leaned back, watching hunger play in his eyes.

  "What was that for, ma belle?"

  "Because you are so…" He cocked his head to the side as I dug around inside my head for the right word. Then I remembered I was on a mission to teach his ego a lesson. "Cute," I finally said, dropping my hand and heading back toward the kitchen island. I could feel the heat of his gaze on my back. I tossed him a sassy smile over my shoulder and my step faltered.

  His eyes widened in obvious disbelief at my choice of words before narrowing. "Cats are cute. Dogs are cute. Adrien and the rest of the rug rats out there are cute."

  He started toward me, the look on his face as dangerous as the prowl in his walk. I bolted around the island, heart pounding in my chest, giggling. I kicked the ballet flats from my feet and adjusted my stance. "Cute."

  "Take that back before I make you, and I won't be gentle about it."

  I shook my head, dashing to the other side as his long legs covered the distance between us. "Nope. We need to cool you down a little. Your ego is getting out of control."

  "My ego," he growled, feigning a left. I darted to the right but too late, he pounced on me, tackling me flush into his body, my back to his front, "is exactly the right proportion. Cute, you said, huh? I will have you know the word doesn't describe me. Not even close."

  I wiggled my butt against the bulge in his jeans, highly aware of the blast of heat from his body along with the shouts and fits of laughter from the children's playroom down the hall. "All right. Give me a word that would describe you without inflating your already large ego."