Page 64 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“Because you’re all up in yourself again. You do that—go into your mind and stay there. Most people might not notice, but I do. Sometimes I worry you’ll go in there one day and not come back.”

Well, what was she supposed to say to that assertion? “That sounds like a mental illness.”

“No.” The word came quickly. “Just, you overthink things. You need to learn to go with the flow.”

Wasn’t that what she’d been telling herself a few moments ago? “So how do you propose I learn togo with the flow?” A flare of frustration burned in her chest.

“Remy, sweetheart, you’ll never sleep if you’re this wound up. Let me help you.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“May I kiss you?”

Her breath caught. Of all the possible ways to relax, that wasn’t one of them. She wasn’t prepared, after last night’s disaster, to try again. Or was she? She’d been the one to tell him she wanted a normal marriage. She planned to go for counseling—that was a given. But the rest?

Don’t overthink it.

Go with the flow.

“A kiss would be nice.” The strength in her voice surprised her. She wanted to know more, but she also trusted him. If anyone would take care of her, it’d be him.

The mattress dipped as he turned on his side toward her.

“You’re in charge, sweetheart. You saystopand we stop.”

“Okay.” Her voice was husky because she wanted him to do something—anything. “I’m ready, Rusty. Please kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

The room was dark except for the illumination of the clock radio, so he was a shadow moving in the darkness. Except she wasn’t afraid. Nervous energy flowed through her body, igniting little sparks in her belly.

The first graze of his index finger along her jaw was unexpected. Her breath hitched.

He traced her features—brow, nose, mouth.

Each touch was featherlight, but potent nonetheless. Anticipation beat a steady drum through her as he eased onto his side. Leaning over without touching, he brushed his lips across hers, and she closed her eyes, leaving it up to her other senses to experience the onslaught he elicited.

The next pass of his lips added pressure. She inhaled his potent smell—just soap and water—but also something elementally Rusty. This time, when he placed his finger on her jaw, he applied more pressure, tipping her face toward him. When his lips pressed to hers, she opened, sighing.

He slid his tongue against hers as if he had all the time in the world. He angled his head to gain greater access.

She reached up, twining her arms around his neck. Her heartbeat thudded steadily in her chest. As he ran his hand through her hair, something expanded within her and she questioned what was moving through her.

Desire.

The thought hit her hard and fast. She wanted him to do something. Something more than what he was doing. That terrified her.

As if sensing the shift, he ended the kiss and pressed his lips to her forehead. He eased her to her side and pulled her pliant body against him, spoon-style. As he secured his arm around her waist, his breath warmed her neck.

“That was nice.” His words were sleepy.

“Is that all?”

“For now.” His breath was warm against her neck. “For now, because I’m not ready for more.”

She giggled, relief flooding her. Until something hard brushed her hip. She stilled.

“It’s just an erection, Remy. Nothing for you to worry about.”

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