Fate Interrupted Book 3 (6 page)

“Suck my cock! Yes, like that,” he demanded, his voice gravely and slightly breathless.

I sucked harder and his tugging on my hair got harsher. I winced at the slight pain with each yank but didn’t dare tell him to slow down or ease up. He was getting tight and swollen inside my mouth, and I knew he was close to the edge and I wanted to get him there.

Remy thrust in so deep he hit the back of my throat and I let out a moan to accommodate his thick shaft. “Take it like that.”

I nodded and he groaned again, digging his fingertips into my head and holding onto me as he thrust a few more times and then came inside my mouth, his warm seed filling my mouth and dripping down my throat. I swallowed it all and tongued it off his skin as he pulled out of me.

“Damn, Livvie.”

I smiled, loving the sight of him breathless and undone. “So, what do you think? We square for next month’s rent?” I teased.

He gave me a wicked smile before launching himself at me. In one swoop, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

“I’m afraid we have to continue negotiations,” he replied, smacking my ass in the process.

I laughed and squealed as he started down the hall towards the bedroom.

***

“So, what’s new?” I asked, settling into a chair across Kaylee and Mitch at our regular table in the twenty-four hour coffee shop. It had been a couple of weeks since I’d moved in with Remy, and while co-habitation had been going well, I was afraid I was slacking off in regards to the business. I had called an emergency staff meeting to get things back on track.

But from the looks on their faces, I had a sinking feeling that it might be a little too late. Mitch looked down at the table and Kaylee looked like she was about to cry.

“Shit,” I whispered. “What happened?”

Mitch was the first to speak. “We lost the other two bands.”

“Ugh. When?” I asked, burying my face in my hands.

“They both emailed within a couple hours of each other, late last night. Kaylee and I just saw the emails this morning.”

“Great.” I’d been off in la-la land with Remy—meanwhile, my entire business had been crumbling to the ground.

I blew out a long, slow puff of air. “It’s okay. We will bounce back. Remy’s looking at office spaces right now. I have a huge list of club contacts to call. I know Christopher is going to try and trash talk me all over town, but even if I can get twenty-five percent of them to have a meeting with me, I think I could make some of my own connections, and with that in place, attracting new bands should be cake. So, maybe this is a good thing?”

My two employees exchanged a dark look.

“What?”

Kaylee cleared her throat. “Well, the two bands that left, they both mentioned that they were going to Vantage Point Management.”

“Management? You mean Beats. The record label that belongs to the devil—”

“—No. Livvie, he has a management branch. So, now he is doing recording
and
management in-house. You didn’t know that?”

“Shit.” My heart started palpitating in my chest. I looked down at my empty coffee mug and realized it was my fourth cup of the day. Probably a good sign that it was time to switch to wine. Hey, it was five o’clock somewhere, right?

Chapter Seven — Livvie

“You’re not going to believe this,” I fumed, as soon as I stepped inside Remy’s penthouse.

Remy appeared at the end of the hall, holding some kind of kitchen utensil. “Good God, what now?”

“We are officially client-less.” I tossed my purse onto the entryway table and threw my keys into a little glass bowl that Remy had ordered just for me. It was a beautiful, blown glass bowl that flared out and was flecked with shades of turquoise and coral. I smiled at it momentarily, but it wasn’t enough to completely change my mood.

I was in full-blown panic mode. I met Remy in the kitchen and watched as he worked. In the two weeks since I’d moved in, he’d opened up a new side to me: his inner chef. He was an amazing cook and had prepared some of the most mouth-watering dishes I’d ever eaten. Not to mention, he looked damn sexy in an apron.

The only bad thing about his cooking hobby—besides the extra cushion on my ass—was the stinging guilt that was stirred up every time he presented me with a new creation. It always had a way of reminding me that his real passion was food, and opening his own restaurant. A dream that he’d been very close to realizing, before he’d dropped the entire thing to invest in Conquer Entertainment. A choice that he would—if he didn’t already—regret making.

Not that I could blame him. In the past couple of weeks since his somewhat hostile takeover, we had secured a really nice office space and had some very luxe stationary printed up, but for the most part it had felt like treading water as we waited on paperwork to go through.

“I’m sorry, Liv,” Remy said, turning away from the stove to give me a commiserating glance.

I hopped up onto one of the tall bistro style chairs at the bar just off the kitchen. “What do we do now?”

“The office furniture is being delivered tomorrow,” he offered, sounding like he was more worried about his dinner than the demise of the company.

I sighed. “That’s great, but unless the office chairs are planning to pay rent, I’m not sure how helpful that’s going to be.”

Remy dropped his whisk into the slotted spoon holder next to the stove and spun around to face me. “I don’t know what you want me to say. This is your business plan, remember? I’m here to help, but I have to know what you want from me. I can’t read your mind.”

“So what? You’re tapping out?” I asked. I knew that wasn’t what he’d been trying to say, but for whatever reason, I was hungry for a fight.

“Livvie, don’t push me right now. I’m just as worn out as you are.”

I scoffed.

He threw me a sharp glance. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” I reached over the bar top and retrieved a bottle of whiskey—something Remy had converted me to—and poured a small amount in a rocks glass.

“No, it wasn’t nothing. Why are you taking this out on me? I get that this hasn’t been picture-perfect for you, but how is that my fault?”

“You’re right. Not your fault, not your business, and not your problem.” I hopped off the stool and threw back the shot of whiskey.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled. “Do I need to remind you that I gave up everything to be with you?”

I poured another shot for myself and sighed loudly. “You don’t
have to
remind me
,
but then, that doesn’t seem to stop you from bringing it up. Does it?”

Remy turned back to the stove and whipped at the contents of one of the metal pots. “I need to focus on this.”

I took the glass off the bar and wandered down the hall towards the master bedroom. It was strange to be going into the massive room without Remy, but I guessed technically, it was my room too since we now lived together. The penthouse was glamorous and beautiful, full of everything I could ever need, and yet, not one inch of it felt like home.

I felt hot, frustrated tears threatening to fall. That was the last thing I needed, to have Remy find me alone and crying in his room. God, what he must already think of me. He’d given up his restaurant dreams, opened up his home, and for what? We had nothing to show for it. Now, our client list was down to zilch, and no matter how much I tried, it seemed every door I came across was locked shut.

I downed the whiskey and grabbed my legal pad off the bedside table. It was jammed full of scribbled phone numbers, business cards stuck on with clear tape, and more than a few stains from sloshed coffee mugs. I fluffed up the pillows and settled in, ready to attack the list. I’d find another band before Remy had a chance to back out of the whole deal.

This was my “make it work” moment, as Tim Gunn would say.

Remy came to get me for dinner about an hour later. He didn’t say a word, simply stood in the doorway until I turned to face him from the nest I’d created in the middle of the bed, surrounding myself with notebook pages, my phone and computer.

He crossed the room and in one swift movement, cleared aside all my papers, and pinned me under his body weight on the bed. My eyes went wide as I stared up at him. My body wanted him. Whenever he got this close, it didn’t matter what my brain or heart was telling me—my hips pivoted towards him, my lips parted, my nipples went hard, and my pussy started to pulse, desperate to have him inside me.

I arched my back so my breasts were pressed against his firm chest, but before I could get him to kiss me, he grabbed my wrists and held my arms above my head.

“I’m not tapping out. Livvie, don’t ever question my intentions again.” His voice was deep with the serious tone of his warning and a small shiver crept down my spine at the sound.

“I won’t,” I promised.

Only then did he bring his lips to mine, building the coiled tension within me with each long, slow, sensual kiss. His lips were soft on mine, but possessive and overbearing as he held my arms above me, still pinned to the bed.

“Remy,” I breathed, my lips still touching his.

A thousand unasked questions were running wild in my mind, but I couldn’t find a voice to speak any of them.

I wanted him so badly, but at what cost? To Remy? To me?

His lips parted mine and his tongue dipped into my mouth, exploring with small, hot strokes. I was powerless to stop him. I didn’t want him to stop.

I gave up trying to hold back and pushed aside the doubts plaguing me. I needed him. His touch, his breath mixing with mine, the feel of his fingertips on my body—there was nothing more I could do.

Remy’s free hand trailed down the exposed skin of my arm, down the side of my cheek, and over my breast. His touch was like a feather on my skin, so soft that it was like something from a dream. He gripped my wrists tightly enough that I couldn’t move, even if I somehow found the strength or desire to try, and yet, his touch was so gentle and sweet. The mix of the two—the harsh and soft—quickly got me spinning, not knowing what was going to come next.

Remy’s hand stilled at the elastic band of the sweats I’d thrown on, and he teased the skin between my t-shirt and pants with the tip of his thumb. I shivered as a bolt of heat scorched over my skin.

“Livvie, I want you to understand me. You need to see me,” Remy said, his voice low and soft.

Our eyes met and I saw a flicker of pain reflected back at me.

“I do, Remy. I see you.”

He kissed me again.This time the kiss quickly turned deep and each one that followed came quicker, until we were breathless in between each new meeting of our lips. Remy pulled my shirt off, over my head and stripped away the sweats, leaving me naked before him. He lowered his lips and teased my nipples with his teeth and tongue. I grabbed onto him, clinging to his strong back, when he pinned my arms back over my head. I moaned at the sensation of being immobilized under him, his powerful body taking full control of mine.

I was already soaking, desperate and ready for him. I needed him inside me. I arched against him as he slowly pulled at my tender nipples. He used one hand to bring the tip of his rock-hard cock to tease my clit. He groaned when he felt the wetness built up and after a moment of pause, he entered me with a slow thrust, giving me time to expand and stretch around him. I sucked in my breath and released it when he was finally deep inside me.

I’d missed this.

Remy’s eyes roamed up and down my naked body as he began slowly thrusting inside me before he brought them back up to my eyes. Once I was warmed up, he went hard and deep. I groaned at the sheer pleasure of each stroke and let my eyes flutter shut for a moment as I let the pleasure wash over me.

“Livvie, look at me. I need to see you,” Remy commanded.

I opened my eyes, and his were even darker and more intense. He thrust again and I called out, feeling more vulnerable than I ever had before. The lights were soft, but I knew Remy could see every inch of my naked body, and watching him watch me felt more intimate than anything we’d ever experienced together to that point. His eyes on mine as I gasped and writhed with pleasure was almost too much. I wanted the lights out, to hide. Sharing the moment, eyes wide open, was intense and exposing, especially after the tension of the past few days.

Remy’s grip on my wrists tightened as he got closer to release, and my hips bucked underneath him as my own pleasure rose inside. He was pulsing inside me when I crashed over the edge, a rush of relief rushing through me as I came hard against him. Remy stayed inside me for a minute, letting me finish and catch my breath before he pulled out. He let go of my wrists and lowered onto the bed next to me. I rubbed my wrists, circulating the blood back into my hands. He hadn’t hurt me, but towards the end his grip had cut off the blood supply and left my hands feeling pins and needles.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, watching me intently.

I shook my head. “Just asleep, I think.”

He grabbed my wrist in one hand and planted a soft kiss where the blue veins were showing,then repeated the sweet gesture on the other one. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said when he finished.

I searched his eyes, remembering the glimmer of pain I’d seen there while we were making love. “I don’t want to hurt you either, baby.”

He nodded and made a noise like he was clearing his throat.

“Goodnight, Livvie.” He lifted up long enough to flick off the bedside lamp and then lay back down.

I curled up and let my hand rest on his chest, feeling every steady beat of his heart.

The heart that I was starting to see I had the power to break.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the dark.

Remy placed his finger over my lips, silencing me with his gentle touch. After a moment of silence, he pulled me closer to him, every inch of our skin melding together, and I closed my eyes.I guessed dinner would have to wait.

***

The next few weeks passed in a flurry as Remy and I both worked our asses off to fight against Christopher’s barriers and roadblocks to get meetings with bands and club promoters. We ended up expanding our reach to the outskirts of the city which made for long nights, and unfortunately, nights where we were on opposite ends of town and were more like passing ships in the night.