DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) Read online

  God, I’m already there now and all he’s done is shift his knee to touch my leg.

  “Remy.”

  Dammit.

  “All… None… God, this is not right,” I say in a burst of air. “Look, I’m married, and granted that won’t be for much longer, thank God, but I am still married and I am…this is so embarrassing. I’m attracted to you, okay?”

  He smirks and I swear his eyes drill right into the core of me, their depths going smoky hot and lazy all at once, and I feel myself clench deep inside, my body readying.

  “Good. I am attracted to you too, Remy, very much so. In fact, I’ve forced myself to sit through dinner with you and not make one move though my dick is so hard it pains me.”

  Oh, wow.

  He moves closer and I smell his aftershave and what smells like clean man underneath. I feel my nipples bead beneath the fabric of my shirt, tightening to hard points that I know he can’t fail to notice.

  He does, and when he looks back up at me he’s smiling softly.

  “I want you so badly it hurts. I lay awake at night wondering what you smell like, taste like, how you’d feel wrapped around my dick as I fuck you hard and then so soft and slow. I think about what you’d look like waking up in my bed. Will your hair be a mess? Will you be grumpy or one of those infernal morning people.”

  I’m breathing so hard as he says these things that I wheeze when he leans in and cups my face with both hands, bringing his lips so close I feel the heat of his them seeping into mine.

  “But I won’t touch you like that until you’re free and clear of…your husband.” He growls, closing his eyes and pulling my breath into his lungs.

  The way he says that is so snide I blink to clear my vision and shake off the unsettled feeling it evokes.

  “Uh, listen Chase, I don’t—”

  “Don’t say anything till I finish. Please,” he interrupts, pulling back only far enough that my eyes don’t cross when I look at him. “I know that you’re married and also that you’re in the middle of a divorce. I’ll wait, just don’t tell me you don’t want more before you even give this a shot.”

  I nod and look away, feeling giddy and terrified all at once. This is so…natural, I guess. Guy meets girl, guy likes girl, guy wants to sleep with girl.

  And I feel exactly the same. I just don’t know how I’d feel if I—

  “So where are you staying? or has your soon-to-be ex moved into some crappy dive?” he asks, looking like he’d relish Brian’s suffering at the hands of some flea-infested motel.

  “Uh, well I’ve moved to the guestroom, and I’m hoping the house sells quickly so I can afford an apartment.”

  He rears back—his eyes losing the seductive light—and looks at me hard, seeming almost angry at my words. Way to kill the mood, Rem, I think, almost cringing because part of me did that on purpose to put some distance between us.

  Having a guy tell me that he lays awake nights thinking about my body, and then my imagining him jerking off to thoughts of me, makes me so hot I’m afraid to stand up I’m so wet.

  Not good, not yet, not till I’m free to do something without feeling like a whore.

  “You need to leave,” he snarls, and I feel my heart stutter—not only at his words, but the pent up fury in them.

  Surprisingly, it hurts a lot when those words filter into my sinking brain. I say that because it shouldn’t hurt this much; I hardly know him. No that’s a lie. I’ve learned more about Chase Marshall in the short weeks we’ve been talking and meeting than I know about my own husband.

  I know his favorite color is green, that he loves hotdogs and Haggis equally—gross—and that he likes really dirty jokes and thinks it’s weird that I don’t.

  I know that he’s kind and giving and fierce about keeping his charity projects alive.

  Mostly, I know that it was only after meeting him and feeling his respect and interest that I finally got the balls to tell my lawyer to force the divorce.

  I want him as I’ve wanted no man in my life, and the fact of the matter is that I would have him, guilt or not. Except that it now seems that I’ve pissed him off past the point of pulling back.

  “Uh, yeah, okay.” I croak, standing shakily to my legs and smoothing down my dress before grabbing my purse.

  “Where are you going, Remy?” he barks, standing in one swift move to tower over me, his much taller presence dwarfing my five-foot-three-inch frame, making me feel so small and delicate.

  “Er, you just told me to leave.”

  “No! I meant you have to leave that house, Remy. You can’t stay there with him,” he snarls, pulling me back down and taking his seat. And this time he’s almost pressed up against me he’s so close.

  “Chase, hon, I hate to break this to you, but not everyone has bajillions to throw around. I have exactly three-hundred dollars in my bank account right now, and Brian is sabotaging every house viewing, so I don’t see it selling any time soon. That means I’m either in the guestroom or homeless. Since it’s coming on winter, I’m kind leaning toward the guestroom since I don’t want to die of exposure.” I say with a little more snark then is truly necessary. I close my eyes at the frustration I feel.

  I understand his point, really I do, but the guy is so loaded I doubt he even knows what a coupon is. I do, boy, do I know.

  According to Brian, the husband takes care of the mortgage and utilities, while it’s my job as the wife to pay for groceries, the maid he insists we have, and even the pool guy.

  Needless to say, I never have any money; hence my sparse wardrobe and the fact that I only get a wax every three months because it takes me that long to save enough money.

  And know what he does about my legs being hairy? He complains. Constantly.

  “Move in here.”

  That has my thoughts stopping so suddenly I crack my neck with whiplash.

  “Um, that is not even…”

  Chapter 7

  Chase

  She declined my offer.

  Of course she did, since I lost my temper and acted like a maniac. But that hasn’t stopped me, and bright and early the next morning I’m walking into her office building with a bouquet of flowers and peanut butter cups clutched in my hand, hoping like all hell she won’t be pissed to see me.

  Dinner had gone downhill after she’d declined my offer and I’d, well…

  Let’s just say I hadn’t been too happy about the thought of her driving home and sleeping under the same roof as that blight upon humanity that will soon be her ex, very ex-husband.

  I get the distinct impression that Remy wasn’t too thrilled at my performance last night, and why would she be? with my yelling obscenities about a man I'm not supposed to know.

  I haven’t told her my identity or that I’ve purposefully set out over the last several years to not only destroy the boys who’d been responsible for her heartache, but that I’ve made it my mission to ruin a man she’s spent over a decade lo—

  I stop that thought there, unable to even contemplate that she likes the ass, never mind feels anything even remotely like love for him.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  A little old lady who looks older than Methuselah asks when I walk into the dingy little building and look around. The nametag reads Rose Digger…ha-ha.

  Her eyes are periwinkle blue and start dancing when she sees the peanut butter cups, her mouth quirking softly.

  “Her office is the second door on the left, just down that hall. Be nice, she’s having a rough morning. Oh, and thanks for the flowers, they really brighten this place up.”

  For a minute, I think she’s got designs on my woman’s daisies before she indicates the vases full of roses I’ve sent on previous occasions. Great, so Remy hasn’t kept any—not one.

  I just shrug with a smile and make my way down the gray hall, eyeing the color scheme with a frown. I’m painting this place tomorrow or my girl will shrivel in this heap.

  I’m a man, and usually I’d say t
hat very little fazes me, but for the first time in a long while, I’m so bloody nervous I feel my palms start sweating and my heart rate pick up.

  Through all of my planning and carefully-thought-out moves, I never once thought that my biggest obstacle to getting Remy could be Remy herself. For a guy who knows this girl on a deep level, I think I forgot that she is by far one of the most honorable women I’ve ever known.

  And dam if she isn’t one of the most stubborn too.

  So, now that I’ve pissed her off and made her feel even guiltier about what she felt for me before the divorce, I know I’m going to have a real struggle on my hands.

  “Oh good Lord above have mercy on my needy self.” I hear the moment I step into the office and I smile at Liv, remembering having met her before.

  She’s grinning up at me, her light brown eyes sparkling as she cuts her gaze to Remy, who is currently unaware of my presence and arguing into the phone.

  “No, I will not accept that. Of course not, but that’s not the point, Jake. The girls need to attend school more regularly or they will report you. No, Jake, I do not know what that’s like because I am not a single father. I gave you the contact information for the church daycare. I don’t care if you’re not Catholic, the nuns do not discriminate. Fine, then take that risk, but I’m warning you— God he just hung up on me!”

  She’s furious, her eyes are so round and intense that I stand back and watch in amusement when she picks up something sharp and hurls it to the right without looking.

  When I look up, I laugh in a boom and have to grab the doorframe for support. The photo is almost unrecognizable it’s so full of holes, but I’d recognize that shit-eating grin anywhere.

  “Jesus, I can’t believe I was jealous!” I crow, smiling at a now scowling Remy, whose eyes are narrowed on me before a big grin curves her mouth.

  “Told ya, Marshall.”

  She had told me that I had no reason to stress about her still residing with the idiot, and I hadn’t believed her. I guess I do now.

  “Yes, you really did, didn’t you? So…am I forgiven, or would you like to torture me a little longer?” I ask, almost laughing when she looks down and spots the candy I’ve brought her.

  As I’ve witnessed on many a dinner, Remy is a total goner for anything that contains the words sugar, chocolate or peanut butter.

  “Those babies for me?”

  The darling hasn’t even spared the flowers a second glance, and I find myself giving them a jaundiced eye.

  “Always. No flowers?”

  Liv starts laughing and I pull my eyes away from Remy with an effort to look at the woman now snorting with mirth.

  “Dude, her husband used to make her arrange flowers in every room of the house. She freaking hates the things. Bring that bouquet on over here and give it to a woman who’ll appreciate it,” she purrs, batting her lashes at me with a licentious smile that makes me choke on a chuckle.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be single by any chance?”

  That gets me a snort and a snarl from Remy, and I turn to throw her a wink before giving Liv my attention again.

  “Yup, but Remy’s my pal so that’s a no go, stud. Sorry, you’ll have to do without this hotness.”

  I’m amused but keep myself in check before turning back to Remy and smiling hotly.

  “I have a friend who is just this side of anal, and I think he might benefit from a gem such as yourself.”

  “Oooh, a blind date? Sign me up, hottie, I’m not picky. Just as long as he has all his teeth, grooms regularly, and doesn’t consider farting an Olympic sport, I’m sold.”

  “He’s too uptight to pass wind, Liv, so I think you’re safe.”

  “No farting, huh? What does he do with all that gas if he’s as anal as you say?” she laughs and I look over at Remy who’s rolling her eyes and fighting a smile.

  I don’t get a chance to volley an answer back before Liv taps her chin and murmurs straight faced.

  “S’all cool. I can handle almost anything. I went out with this guy who ate garlic for breakfast, lunch and supper and apparently drank bean smoothies all day long.”

  Jesus, this woman.

  “I’ll give him your number.” I say through a huffed out laugh, noting Remy’s sparkling eyes and the way she’s biting at her bottom lip to keep from laughing at Liv’s ridiculous antics.

  “As long as I’m number one, it’s all peachy. Now give the girl her peanut butter treats and get the hell outta here. I had a rough night and need a nap.”

  God, if I didn’t already have a best friend…

  “Breakfast, Remy?”

  Her eyes freeze on me for a second, and I’m pretty sure she’s about to refuse when I see her face clear and she nods.

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do kiddos.” Liv giggles, ducking Remy’s hand as I put a hand at the small of her back and steer her out.

  “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?”

  “Nope. That’s the point!” she yells down the corridor, her dark laughter following us as I lead Remy out of the building.

  Right there, I know she’s the right woman for Gabe, and I almost bust with impatience at the thought of hooking them up.

  Later.

  Now, I have a woman to seduce back to my way of thinking, and I know just how to do it.

  Chapter 8

  Remy

  The soft breeze that pours through the open windows, along with the candlelight, gives the room a magical quality. After last week's failed dinner, and then the truly perfect breakfast ‘meeting,’ Chase and I have reclaimed the amiable ease that we'd had before.

  The only difference now is that I am fully aware of his desire every time our eyes meet across the table. And God in heaven, he doesn’t miss an opportunity to let me know that he’s hard, that he’s been thinking about me non-stop, and my personal favorite and the reason I’m considering looking into a vibrator, how he described in detail how he jacked-off to thoughts of what he’s been dying to do to me.

  Just remembering makes me…

  “You look stunning tonight, Rem,” he purred, staring me down, almost daring me to withdraw my gaze.

  When I didn’t, he tilted his head to regard me and moved in for the kill.

  “I thought about you all through last night. I even took the sweater you left here to bed with me.”

  I gasped and clenched my thighs together at the thought of an item of my clothing gracing his sheets, lying across the cool cotton as he sprawled his tight body across the expanse of his bed.

  “The scent drove me mad. I shot so hard the sheets were a torture against my cock.” He whispered, licking his lips and drawing me in with nothing more than grated words and the intensity of his lust-filled gaze.

  I couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe through the need streaking through me, pressing deep into the empty ache between my legs. The rush of heat sent a gush of moisture to my sex, readying me for what I needed, what I’ve been fantasizing about since the day his eyes met mine.

  “Chase.”

  “I lay there for hours just breathing in the sweet scent, torturing myself, and imagining running my nose over your skin. When I could stand it no more I pulled the sweater over my face and closed my eyes. My cock was so hard by that time, that when I grasped my length and started pulling, I almost shot at the first stroke.”

  I almost melted into a wet puddle of need at his words, my lungs constricting with every breath as he told me how he’d pretended that his hand was my own, how he’d fantasized that I would jerk him off right to the point of coming before lowering my head and swallowing every drop he had stored up for me.

  That had been almost enough to make me come without so much as a touch. And then he’d sealed my fate by telling me that he’d wrapped the soft wool that held my scent around his rod and come all over it, needing to brand some part of me.

  I can say one thing for sure, well no, two things. I’d gone home on shaky legs, afire with a raging arousal that
made the slightest movement almost painful and rubbed myself to completion just thinking of the things he’d told me.

  I am now positive that Chase Marshall will not only satisfy every sexual hunger I have, but by the time he’s done with me, I will be enslaved by the man.

  “We’re celebrating,” he’d crooned into the phone this afternoon after calling me to set up a dinner date.

  I was giddy to the point of doing cartwheels by that time. My lawyer had just called and, as of this morning, I am a free woman. I am now officially Remy Harrow again, no Carson tacked on to the end, and I am free to do what I want, when I want, with whomever I want and there’s not a thing anyone else can say or do about it.

  I’d accepted the invitation and rushed home early to throw my possessions in my car before zipping over to Liv’s apartment and getting ready for my epic date.

  Now, here I am, sitting on the half patio off Chase’s bedroom, enjoying the bracing air and the ambience of the lighting while he putters around downstairs ‘getting supplies.’

  “Fuck me, you look sexy in that dress.”

  I turn and smile, feeling my nerves tighten when he strides through the bedroom and drops a covered box to the table beside me.

  “You…”

  Words fail me when I realize that he’s wearing nothing but a pair of worn jeans and an arrogant smile that’s just this side of indecent. He waits, keeping me pinned with nothing more than a heated look.

  “Open the box, Rem.”

  I obey, shutting my eyes just before lifting the lid and dropping it to the table, my pulse racing at the anticipation streaking through me.

  “Open your eyes.”

  When I do I almost faint with pleasure.

  “God help me.”

  It’s all I can get through frozen lips as I lower my hands and pull out a sheer white lace thong and matching bra that’s not a bra at all but a set of cups that will end just below my nipples.

  The underwear, if I can even call it that, is indecent in its skimpiness and I absolutely love it.