Biker Babe in Black (13 page)

Continuing to ignore her, Remy turned off the water, and tested the temperature with his hand. Margie cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips.

“Fine. I can act the same way. From now until you talk, I will not utter a single word.”
That’ll show him.

Remy removed a rose head from his pocket and plucked a petal off. And another. Soon, rose petals adorned the surface of the bathwater. Margie bit her bottom lip to keep from commenting.

Remy finished and moved over to stand in front of Margie. He held his finger in front of his mouth, and she understood she must not talk.

He placed his hands on her waist and grabbed the ends of her shirt.

“What are you do—”

His finger silenced her.

Remy lifted up her shirt by the hem and peeled it off. Goosebumps spread over her body, and she didn’t protest. She knew Remy understood she willingly played any game he brought to their relationship. She’d proved it to him every chance she got.

Remy groaned, his eyes drawn to her red push-up bra. She giggled at the pained expression he wore and helped him with her jeans, which joined the rest of her clothes on the floor.

Margie stood in her birthday suit and admired the way Remy kept himself in control. She took the hand he offered and followed him to the bathtub.

Remy motioned for her to get in the water. Hesitating, she tested the water with her toe, then lowered herself down. She sucked in her breath and submerged the rest of her body.

Her hair spanned out on the surface, the top of her breasts buoyant, and her nipples reacted to the warmth. Her gaze rose to take in Remy. He kneeled beside the tub. His finger trailed in the water and moved the petals around her body.

His hand skimmed her leg. She shivered, but not from cold. His beautiful cobalt eyes hinted at what he wanted from this game. It thrilled her to have a man so successful, yet the first thing he did upon arriving home was draw a bath for her; to show her he thought of her throughout the day and planned for their time together.

“I want you,” Remy whispered.

Margie nodded and enjoyed the way he slipped out of his pants. The evidence of his arousal hovered right above her face, and she reached out to touch, thankful she trusted Remy and that she took birth control pills.

“Not yet.”

She drew her hand back, spread her legs, and prepared enough room for him to join her in the tub. Instead of sitting close or behind her, he sat at the opposite end of the bath, keeping his eyes closed and his arms up on the side of the tub.

Margie refused to break her silence. The pulse on his neck throbbed—thump, thump, thump—and she swallowed.

The waiting part of the game drove her excitement to new levels. She didn’t know what to expect, or at what time Remy would touch her. She spread her legs wider and arched her back. The desire to lay a hand on him first drove her insane, but she must wait…

Remy opened his eyes and gazed at Margie. He held out his hand and helped her straddle his legs. Her hair fell on his chest and covered her view of him. She didn’t need to see what awaited her under the water. He never failed to come to her hard and ready, no matter the time or place.

Margie sank down on top of Remy and impaled herself onto him. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub. Her head lolled back, and her hair moved behind her, allowing him to behold the offering she presented.

The splash of water onto the floor went ignored, and she rode the rhythm Remy set. Her palms braced on his chest, she brought her gaze back to observe the way he watched the area where her body joined his.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Her muscles tensed all at once, and she moaned with her release. Remy grasped her hips, plunged one last time, and held her still. He filled her completely.

They stayed in the bath, Margie swaddled in his arms, and waited for the bathwater to chill enough that they needed to get out. Margie relished in the care Remy showed for her as he dried her with one of the towels off the warmer rack.

“You amaze me.” Remy held out her robe, and she slipped her arms in the holes.

In the kitchen, the radio played in the background while dinner cooked on the stove. Margie’s feet danced along with the music, and she used a wooden spoon to stir the pasta. Today was for celebrating.

This morning, she’d opened a bank account for the first time in her life and deposited all her paychecks she’d received since becoming Remy’s housekeeper. She twirled in circles to the oven and turned off the thermostat for the sweet potatoes. If she figured right, she only needed four more paychecks and she’d have enough money saved for a down payment on a house. Her own house.

A lifetime of wishing on stars, blowing out birthday candles, and searching for four leaf clovers just to achieve home ownership lay right at her fingertips. She’d kept how close she was from reaching her goal from her family and Remy, afraid she’d jinx herself and something bad might happen to spoil it all. Remy discussed their future together, but it never involved the word marriage. Nevertheless, to own a home sat at the top of Margie’s list whether she got married or not.

Her daily routine to clean the house, cook the meals, and process the laundry had already fallen into place and seemed normal. Though it didn’t mean she’d forgotten it was a job or that she earned money from doing it. The house belonged to Remy, not her. During the day, she was the housekeeper, and at night, she became his lover.

She turned the radio off and mused over the rumors and whispers people spoke about her at various parties. His business partners leered at her and joked about Remy paying her to sleep with him. It bothered her, but Remy distracted her, and everything she worried about disappeared back at the house in his arms.

The wives of those men treated her worse. They stared down their noses at her and kept her alienated. She never told Remy how they made her feel, preferring to handle it herself. But Remy never once made her believe it was wrong to work for him and be his lover at the same time.

Margie carried a plate of food for Remy and her over to his office. He was working on a project and had asked her to join him in there to eat. Margie had rushed dinner, as Remy needed to attend an opening of one of his new buildings tonight.

“Dinner time.” Margie entered his office.

“Mm, it smells great.” Remy took a plate from her and motioned for her to sit on the other side of his desk. “We’re going to have to hurry if we’re going to make it to the opening before it’s over.”

Margie would rather stay home, but Remy promised they’d show up, toast the building, and come home the minute his speech was over. She realized Remy liked having her by him at his business events.

“I’ll change as soon as we’re done eating. I’ve already thrown the dishes in the dishwasher.” She took another bite of sweet potato.

“Margie…” Remy frowned.

“I know, I know, but I have to do this.”

“I’ve told you—” He pointed his fork in her direction.

“Stop. Don’t. I know you love me, but I need to do these things for me.” She smiled. Just to goof with him, she exaggerated a big cheesy grin to make him laugh. Tonight, she didn’t want anything to upset her perfect day.

***

The six-story building lit up the area and impressed Margie. She turned to observe Remy’s reaction and laughed. His satisfied smirk told her he flew high on the power of success at the finished project. They both had a lot to celebrate later, once they returned home.

No sooner had Remy and Margie stepped into the main lobby than someone dragged Remy away to make a speech at the podium set up on a temporary stage at the back of the room.

Margie strolled over to the side of the room and found a spot where no one could stand in front of her and block her view. These kinds of moments where she witnessed Remy in his world made her more appreciative of how hard he worked to make the differences in their lifestyles seem insignificant. To him, as long as they were happy, it didn’t matter who else questioned their relationship.

Remy’s voice came over the microphone, strong and self-confident. Margie smiled, proud of everything he’d accomplished to get this building built. She knew lots of strong men in her life, but never one who commanded such a following.

“What do you think about Remy’s new project?” Clay Barrett, one of Remy’s associates, slid over to stand beside Margie. She lost her smile. Clay Barrett was the last person she wanted to get friendly with, and she didn’t want to miss Remy’s big moment. The man hit on her every chance he got. With Remy not around, she appeared to be a sitting duck awaiting his attention.

“It’s a beautiful building.” She turned back to the podium.
Maybe he’ll take the hint I’m not interested, move on down the line, and pick up the next decoy.

The acrid smell of old, musty cigars reached her. She knew without looking Clay moved closer to her, and she stepped back. She needed to wear a sign around her neck proclaiming, “I belong to Remington Montgomery, please stay away!” whenever Clay came around.

“Not this building, love, although it is spectacular. I was talking about the Steinbeck project Gloria’s working on.” Clay smirked.

The hair on Margie’s neck stood up, and her eyes flashed to Clay’s. What kind of project would Remy have going on with Gloria?
What the spades is he talking about?

“I haven’t heard of it.” Margie shrugged.

“Probably not. I imagine Remy doesn’t talk about having to team up with Gloria on her father’s new non-profit organization they’re planning.” Clay grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

Ugh…what a dick!

“I bet a woman like you gets awful lonely waiting all day for Remy to come home to you. Wondering where he could be and where he’s been when he comes home late…”

Margie snorted and curled her lip. He disgusted her, always throwing her a perverted gesture behind Remy’s back. Remy didn’t hide anything from her. Clay only blew smoke out of his ass to impress her.
As if he can.

“I just want you to know that I’m here for you. If you ever need anything…” Clay reached out to rub his hand along her arm.

Margie folded her arms and frowned at him.
Isn’t he even a little bit afraid of what might happen if I tell Remy what he suggested?

“Thank you, but I have everything I could possibly want.” Margie needed to get out of there. One more minute with this idiot and she’d haul off and smack him.

Margie found Remy off to the side of the room discussing the details of the building with the engineers. She stood in the corner out of sight so she didn’t distract him.

Remy took control of the group of men, seeming right at home in his position as he relayed the steps of the construction project. To observe him in his element awed her. The way he shoved his hands in his pants pockets, leaned back on his heels, and appeared more relaxed. No wonder he’d gotten to where he was today.

She glanced down at her watch and reminded herself Remy had said they’d only stay an hour at the opening. She sighed. Twenty minutes to go, and Remy didn’t act in any hurry to leave.

A flash of red out of her peripheral vision caught her attention. She turned her head. Gloria strolled into the room. Margie’s lip twitched. The bitch headed straight towards Remy’s direction.

The men who surrounded Remy turned their heads to Gloria, and Remy stopped talking. Margie snorted, but no one witnessed her slip of manners, because they all ogled Gloria. The saying “men think with their dicks” couldn’t be truer.

Remy stood next to Gloria and entered her into conversation. Margie tried to hear what he said, but she stood too far away. She tucked her hair behind her ear and walked a few more feet along the side wall.

She spotted an art piece closer to the group and strolled over to examine it. At least if Remy spied her, it would appear she had an interest in art, not eavesdropping.

“Remy and I are so excited about this project we are working on for Father.” Gloria shook her hair behind her shoulders.

“It will benefit so many children when it’s up and running,” Remy added.

Margie’s eyes narrowed, and the painting she faced blurred in front of her eyes.
Clay’s right. He
is
working with Gloria.

She didn’t catch anything else, only Remy’s bark of laughter after something his ex-fiancée said. She frowned. Not caring if anyone noticed her exit, she marched out the front door. She needed fresh air.

With everyone still inside, she strolled around the outside of the building toward the back. The cool night air helped calm Margie. She slipped off her shoes and picked them up. A walk barefoot through the grass sprinkled with dew might cool off her temper. If she stayed inside, who knew where her anger would take her.

Margie followed the newly laid grass around the building where it ended in a courtyard with a huge water fountain built in the middle. She laid her purse and shoes on the concrete bench, sat down, and dangled her feet in the fountain water. The thought of Remy secretly working with Gloria bothered her more than she realized.

Remy having to work with Gloria didn’t bother her. She trusted him. What did bother her was why he’d never mentioned it before. She wondered if he wanted to hide it from her, and if the involvement indicated something else.

Okay, I’m jealous.

Jealous over someone rich and beautiful. Margie opened her purse, dug out a few coins, and closed her eyes.

“My first wish is…I want Remy to love me forever and always.” She threw a coin in the fountain.

“Second wish…” She pursed her lips and gave it some thought. “My second wish is for a house of my own.” The second quarter joined the first in the bottom of the water.

She returned the other to her purse and set it beside her on the bench. She giggled at the silliness of her wishes. Did she think her life resembled a Disney movie, and her fairy godmother would appear at any time? She glanced to the left and to the right.
Nope, no godmother.