Page 206 of Remy

I drop her father and Lucy off at the funeral home first, even though Ollie’s house is closer. I fucking fly up those stairs to dump Carlo and Lucy’s bags in the living room.

“In a hurry to get somewhere?” Ollie taunts as I climb back in the car.

“Watch your mouth. If you’re not careful, I’ll fill it.”

She chuckles, her grin wide.

Does she think I’m joking?

The damn woman has broken me. I can’t quit picturing what I want to do to her.

“Out of curiosity…” she muses, resting her cheek against the headrest to stare at me. “What would you fill it with?”

My muscles tense. “Don’t fuck with me, Pyro. I may not be in a hurry to take your virtue, but there are a hell of a lot of things I can do within my parameters.”

“Like what?” she purrs.

Son of a goddamn bitch. “You want to know what I’ve been thinking about the whole car ride?”

She nods, her teeth dragging against her bottom lip.

“I was thinking about how pretty you’d look on top of me, riding my face while you sucked my cock.”

She clenches her thighs together.

“I want to watch you touch yourself,” I grate. “I want to learn how you’ve made yourself feel good all these years. With toys and without.”

I fight a groan at the image of her fingers inside her pussy while my cock glides in and out of her mouth.

It’s slow and brutal torture.

She whimpers. “I really should’ve worn underwear.”

I scowl at the traffic ahead, forcing my hands to remain on the steering wheel.

Indulging in her while in Baltimore is too risky. I need to work out a plan first—not only with Lorenzo, but the cartel and their outsourced contract regarding my existence.

“Yes, you fucking should’ve,” I mutter. “We can’t mess around for a while. It’s not safe.”

“How long is a while?”

A week. A fucking month. “I don’t know.”

“I can handle it.” Her tone falls quiet. “We both can, right?”

I turn onto her street, the answer to her question remaining to be seen. “If you’re asking if I can be faithful, that’s not something you need to worry about.”

“Then what should be worrying me?”

Literally everything else—Lorenzo, the cartel, the cops.

I could write a list but that would take a rather large notebook and more free hours than I have at my disposal.

“Just lay low.” I pull into her drive, deliberately keeping the engine running as I shift into park. “Don’t draw unnecessary attention.”

“That’s my life motto.” She reaches into the back of the car, her ass poking up in the air, those tiny shorts doing exactly what sexualized fashion marketing intended as she drags her tiny suitcase and dress bag from the backseat. “Are you going to come in?”

“Not this time. We don’t know who’s watching.”

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