Page 205 of Remy

“Of course, Remington.” She slides from her stool to pad toward me.

That is not my fucking name, and given her extensive googling, she goddamn knows it. But it looks like she woke up and chose violence this morning.

“Your room,” I growl. “Now.”

She smirks—fucking smirks—then saunters that heavenly ass to the hall and into her room.

“What are you playing at?” I close the door behind us, the wood hitting the threshold with a thwack.

“I’m not playing. You said no labels, so I’m single, aren’t I?” She frowns in mock confusion. “That’s how math maths, right?”

She pivots and walks for the bed.

I grab her wrist, tugging her back to me, her toes stumbling across my shoes, our mouths an inch apart. “That’s not how my math fucking maths, Pyro, and you know it. You don’t get to flirt with other men unless you want them dead.”

She stares up at me, her inhales increasing. “Is that a two-way street?”

“You bet your fucking ass it is.” I weave my arm around her waist, dragging her into my hips. “If you want a label so badly, take whatever you need. You want to be my lover, Pyro? Fine. You want to be my spouse? My girlfriend? My fucking wife?” I lean in so our noses are almost touching. “I. Don’t. Fucking. Care. They’re just words, Ollie. You can take them all.”

She frowns. “You don’t care?”

“No, I don’t.”

She flinches and pushes against my chest.

“What have I done now?” I tighten my hold. “Didn’t I just give you what you want?”

“No.” She wiggles, trying to calmly escape.

“Then what is it?”

“I want to know you care about me.”

“You’re all I fucking care about. How do you not know that?”

She pauses, her brow furrowed, her insecurities clearly warring with what’s right in front of her.

“You want proof that I’m in this but you’ve had it the whole time.” I drag a finger under the collar of her shirt and drag out her necklace. “You wear my ring, Ollie. I’ve been yours for months.”

A breath shudders from her.

God, I want to taste her again. To make her come.

“But we need to keep this quiet for a while.” I nuzzle my nose against hers, fighting temptation like a motherfucker. “At least until I figure out how I’m going to deal with Lorenzo.”

“I can prove myself to him,” she whispers against my lips. “Just tell me how.”

“You’ll do nothing. Leave me to handle it. Okay?”

She swallows. Nods.

I return the necklace to its hiding place beneath her shirt. “Now get that tight little ass back out in the kitchen and welcome your father to breakfast before I bend you over the bed and make the drive home incredibly awkward.”

She grins, then slays me with a hard, deep kiss, before walking from the room.

I have to remain in place for a good five minutes to get my dick under control.

The drive home isn’t any better. Not with Ollie seated beside me, her fingers constantly playing with the frayed hem of those short shorts while I question whether or not the whole no-panty situation was real or just a fucking cruel punishment.

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