I want your hands on my head.” I nod and edge back to make room for him. “Does it calm your racing thoughts?” He shakes his head, then takes my hand and spreads it open over his wide chest, his voice textured as he traps my gaze with his. “It calms me here.

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

I've fallen in love a hundred times in my life! But never like you. So I wonder if I really fell or just tripped, you know?

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.

We taste and suckle each other, and I'm so thirsty he could feed me his kiss all night and I'd still be dying in the desert.

I’ve never seen a man go after a woman like that. Holy sh*t, it’s like porn with the romance.

Remy you're my king." I hug him hard. "There's no chess game for me without you.