Brooke Dumas. I'm Remington.

From a man who fights like crazy, arouses me like no other, is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. From the man who plays me sexy music, gives me his t-shirt to sleep in, protects me as fiercely as a lion, and yet won't take me when I'm naked and trembling in his arms.

If you can come to my fight, you can come in my arms.

Why won't you take me, Remington?" He groans and pulls me closer. "Because I want you too much".

You tie me up in knots. I want to play you a thousand different songs so you can get a clue of what... I feel inside me.

There he is, a woman's living, breathing fantasy, doing his slow, cocky turn, spiky black hair, darkly tanned chest, dimpled smile-killer smile-all in the package of Remington Tate. He's perfection itself, and a new surge of hormones sweeps through me as I do what the rest of the crowd does and take in his visual, so blatantly on display in those low riding boxing shorts and so strikingly sexy, he becomes the center of my attention. The center. Of my. World.

At least if I keep my love a secret, he and I can still have this wonderful, odd, exciting relationship where I love him in silence and pretend he's loving me in silence too.