Faire l'amour

Holy shit. She didn’t know what it was that he just did that was so hot - but damn! A normal guy grabbing her wrist and slobbering on it would be a huge gross out, but the way he did it, with those demon eyes of his watching her. Just holy shit.

And there he sat, as smug as the Cheshire cat, grinning his fool head off at her. Not ever a girl to back down from a challenge TJ scooped up the shaker, and advanced on him in a slow crawl. She kept her head up, knowing full well that her top would sag open a little. By the looks of it, she’d guessed right. Remy looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

She cozied up against him, sliding one knee between his legs with the other to the right of him, facing him. She dipped her head to kiss him briefly on the lips, teasingly backing off when he would have deepened the kiss. She took his jaw firmly in one hand using it to turn his face slightly to the side. Leaning into him, she felt his hands come up to support her back, running slowly up and down her ribcage. She giggled at the slightly ticklish touch, and then breathed softly into his ear, before trailing a series of nips down his neck, stopping to swipe the base of his throat with her tongue. Remy jumped and moaned a bit at that and she grinned triumphantly at him, trickling the salt slowly over his moistened skin. She rubbed her body briefly up against his, and then dipped again to swipe the salt from his skin, reaching blindly behind her until her groping hand found the glass. She downed it, coughed a little at the strong burn and then wodged a lemon between her teeth, quickly deciding that perhaps the lemon was worse.

Remy just held her by her hips for a minute, looking up at her smiling down at him. “Y’win”

She laughed and scooted back from him a little, noting the disappointment in his eyes. Moving the glasses and bag of wedges out of the way a bit, she sat beside him, leaning into his side. His arm came up automatically and draped around her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

“So do you miss it?”

“Miss what, Chere?” He sounded puzzled at the turn of subject.

“Miss your home.” She sighed and snuggled in, tipping her head to the side and up to look into his face. Remy was looking off into the distance, a strange look on his face.

“I suppos’ I do, a bit.” He answered, hesitating a bit over the next words. “N’awleans will always be Remy’s home. But after ‘de hurricane…” He shook his head. “It not be ‘de same place. An’ dis place be nice – good food, nice stuff…” He teasingly bent down to lip the tip of her ear “…an’ you can’t beat de company.”

She laughed, the combination of liquor and cannabis making her feel pleasantly warm and relaxed. “Well I’ve had my moments of wondering what the hell I am doing here.” She reached one arm up around the back of his neck. “But yeah, there are some good points to it as well.” She leaned up, her lips meeting his, tongue quick to dart between them. He tasted of an interesting combination of smoke, pot, lemon, tequila and just Remy. It reminded her of a warm summer afternoon on the beach for some odd reason.

Remy shifted her over to his lap, his hands steadying her at first, and then growing more adventurous as the kiss deepened. He ran one hand slowly up her side, before bringing it around to cup the underside of one breast. He broke off the kiss, and then trailed down her jaw with soft lips, suckling briefly at her earlobe before continuing his path down, finding the spot where her neck met her shoulder and sucking hungrily at it. TJ squirmed a little in his arms, letting out a gasp at that, and he moved his hand over her breast, flicking the nipple lightly with his thumb.

“Holy shit.”

Remy looked at her, his grin crinkling the corners of his eyes ever so slightly, before meeting her lips again. TJ could feel the play of his lean muscles under the shirt as he held her, and she ran her hands down to the hem of his shirt, scooting her hands underneath, bringing her touch into direct contact with his skin. She roamed her hands up and down his chest, delighting in the warmth of him. Returning to the shirt, she tugged inquiringly at it, until he leaned back and grabbed it by the neck, hauling it off over his head. He smiled at her as she ran her hands over him, and grunted a little as she trailed a few kisses across his collarbone.

He stopped her for a moment, kissing her briefly before holding her in front of him, looking deep into her eyes. “Your turn Chere.”

************************

That had surprised her a bit. He had no doubt she knew what he meant, with her eyes flying as open as they did. If it wasn’t so dark, he was sure that he would have seen her blush. He had wondered about her range of experience before, because she was such a bold thing in many ways, but with a reaction like this he was betting more that she was new to this, drat it all anyway. Not that he had anything against virgins, mind, but it was just such a huge responsibility. No matter how many lovers one took, their first usually stood out in their memory, for good or for bad. Remy knew one thing – he didn’t want any femme remembering him as a bad lover.

He let her go and settled back onto his elbows, content to watch her for a minute, letting her relax a bit more. She looked as if she were struggling to find words, but then she startled him by quickly reaching to the hem of her shirt, whisking it off in that fluid crossed arm movement that women used. He’d tried that once, but had just ended up smacking himself in the nose doing it, so he stuck to yanking it off from the top.

He stared transfixed at her for a moment. She was slight, while still having enough substance that she didn’t look like the bone racks that most women seemed to strive to be these days. The azure of her skin added a definite exotic look to her beauty. He’d seen a lot of women before, but none quite so unusual as this one. She sat, watching him look at her, with an astounding mix of bashfulness and desire warring with her features. She was a far cry from the tired, over-dyed, underdressed and thickly made up women that he had often found companionship with at home.

“Tres belle” He followed the line of her body with his eyes, resting them briefly upon her dark nipples, jutting out with the sharpness of the night air. To her credit she continued to watch him without trying to cover herself, hands resting lightly in her lap. “Remy’s never seen anythin’ as stunnin’ as you, Chere.” He brought his gaze back up to her face.

Whoops. TJ sat regarding him with an odd look now, her brows furrowed. The waves of emotion pealing off of her were defiantly not what he expected. “What?” she asked. Shifting her weight back from him, she slid her butt off of her feet and brought her knees up, covering herself, crossing her arms over them. God damnit! What the hell just went wrong?

TJ fixed him with a look. “Just how many women are you comparing me with?”

Oh merde. This wasn’t a turn in the conversation that he wanted to follow. “Some.”

She narrowed her eyes at that. She reminded him very strongly of a pissed off cat with her eyes glowing like that. “How many is some?” She hissed, her fingers tightening into fists.

Remy heaved a sigh, sitting up to scrub one hand through his hair, before crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “Remy didn’t count, Chere, but quite a few.” He said quietly. “It be different down ‘dere. Expecially durin’ Mardi Gras.” He risked a look into TJ’s eyes again. The ship was sinking fast, and he was going down with it.

“So is that what I am to you then? Just another quick fuck to add to your collection?” She bit the words out, knees now close to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them.

“What? Non, Chere.” He reached with one hand for her, but she leaned away. “’Dat’s different. Y’ know – when y’ be partin’ and de femme, she catch your eye…it be just about sex.”

“No actually I don’t know.” She looked nearly ready to cry.

Remy put his head in his hands and sat there for a minute. “Remy don’ know what to say, chere. It’s just different.” He looked back up at her, sitting stock still. “Y’be Remy’s best friend here. Remy likes you a lot. Not about to ask y’ ta marry Remy or somethin…” His lip curled up at one end in a crooked smile, eyes begging her to understand. “Dere only be one other femme dat Remy feel like dis about before.”

Still looking like she was prepared to skewer him with glance, she nonetheless softened a tad at that. “Who?”

***********

He paused, just looking at her for a moment. He then scooped up the discarded glasses, and twisted the cap off the bottle, letting it fall to the blanket. Pouring with little care, he filled one glass half full, slopping a little in the other for safe measure. He placed that one at her feet, and then took the other, gulping the burning liquid down.

“Remy never talked about dis before. Wit’ anyone.” He looked pained, his gaze sliding off to the left of her, looking over the shadowed grounds. “Her name was Bella. Remy saw her one day at ‘dis fancy party he snuck into.” He sighed, remembering the day. “She was differn’ from de’ other filles. She ‘ad everythin’ you could ever want…a good home, a nice family, a pretty face – she could ‘ave ‘ad any ‘omme she wanted. But she liked Remy.” He shrugged, pouring himself another tot. Seeming lost in thought he sipped it before making a face at her and smiling wryly, and then tossed it back like the rest.

TJ found herself relaxing a bit, and began to play with her own glass, drawing patterns on it with the drips that ran down the sides of it. “So what happened?”

He looked back at her, staring deep into her with those burning eyes. She felt as if he could see into her when he looked at her like that. “Bella’s folks foun’ out. Dey were really high upper crust. Remy was a thief ‘dat had no ‘ome. She was only sixtee’, and Remy only seventee’.” He spread his hands. “So ‘dat was it.”

Sighing, she found herself sympathizing with the bastard. He seemed pretty upset, his face twisted with the memory. “Did you love her?”

The muscles in his jaw jumped at that, but he returned her gaze strongly. “Oui.”

“Was she your first?” She knew that she was prying, but she had to know.

He smiled a little sadly at that. “Non. But Remy be ‘er’s.” He looked so boyish and young in the moonlight, with his sad eyes watching her. “Actually Remy don’ remember much ‘bout ‘is first time. Jus’ wakin’ up wit’ a ‘elluva ‘eadache, and a blonde passed out over ‘im. When y’ live life on ‘de streets, sometime’ you just do stuff to forget it for a bit.”

Reaching over to his bag, she drug it over towards her careful to keep her knees up. Riffling through it she helped herself to his stash and rolled a small joint. He just sat there, watching her, till she held it out to him. Smiling somewhat hesitantly at her he sparked it alight, and then reached out to gently cup her chin.

“Remy have a ‘ard time trustin’ people. You don’ trust people on ‘de streets, if you want to keep whole and well.” He brushed one escaped lock of hair behind her ear. “But Remy trusts you.”

She sighed, and took a couple of quick sucks to keep the ember lit, before passing it to him. “Yeah. Well, it sounds like you had a very different time than I did growing up.” She shivered a little as a stray breeze teased her spine. What time was it now anyway…Two o’clock? Two thirty? It seemed like they’d been up here for days.

Remy scooped up his discarded shirt, offering it to her. She tossed her head at him, taking it from his hand, and wrapping it around her front. Getting her feet under her she waddled over to him, flopping herself into his lap, resting her back into the warmth of his bare chest. His arms came up around her, firm and strong, cradling her to him for a minute, before he reached up to remove the nearly spent joint from his lips, offering her the last bit. Sucking the last of the leaf to ash, holding the last of the smoke in for a moment, she coughed a little, breathing the smoke out and tossing the bit of paper to one side. She twisted in his arms a little, smiling slowly, before placing her lips to his in a soft brush. The effect was on him was instantaneous, his mouth covering hers in an almost demanding need for reassurance, his hands reaching up to cup her face in them.

The wind kicked up another gust, causing her to shiver again a little, even within the warmth of his arms. Remy paused, backing off to graze gentle fingers down the gooseflesh that was pebbling her arm. “It be getting a little cold out ‘ere, non?” He smiled at her. “Y’ wanna come see Remy’s secret?”

She laughed at that. “That has to be the most pathetic pick up line I’ve ever heard.”

He grinned, chuckling with her. “Y’ave a dirty mind, petite.” He carefully set her to the side before gathering up the remains of their impromptu party, thriftily drinking her neglected drink. “Non. Remy don’ feel always comfortable wit’ all ‘de people round ‘ere. So ‘e foun’ ‘isself a private spot.” Storing the rest of the belongings back into his rucksack he stood on the roof, offering her one hand.

“Please tell me we don’t have to climb down now.” She asked, only half joking as she looked over the edge of the roof to the ground a dizzying distance below, holding his hand tightly.

“Non. It jus’ be over ‘ere.” He dragged her up across the roofline, towards the back of the building, feet steady and sure over the slippery tiles like it was a stroll along a pathway.

She could just see the faintest outline of an irregularity in the roof up ahead. He stopped beside this, kicking a stray chunk of broken tile out of the way. “Some one ‘ere be kind enough to offer ‘dis swamp rat a way in.” He grinned at her dropping his feet through the hole, holding himself up by his arms for a minute, before dropping into the dark below, making only the slightest of thumps with his landing.

“Remy?” She leaned over the hole, trying to see into the black within. The hole had an odd jagged appearance to it, and the edges of it were black with soot. What ever had made it, she doubted it was on purpose.

“Come on Chere.” His voice rose up from the dark. “Remy’ll catch ya.”

Swinging her legs into the hole, she sat on the edge for a minute, taking the shirt that she still held plastered against her front and pulling it over her head. She smiled, sniffing her newly clothed shoulder, enjoying the mixed scent of cologne and Remy. “Are you ready?” She asked, edging her bottom to the rim of the hole.

“Oui. It not be dat far to drop Chere.”

She lowered herself into the hole, feeling odd about dangling into the unknown, before she felt Remy’s hands solid around her hips. Smiling she let herself drop the rest of the way, Remy bearing most of her weight her till her feet hit the floor.

It wasn’t as dark once she was in the attic, he eyes adjusting to the blackness with ease. She could make out the vague dusty forms of boxes and things piled up around them. The sudden flare of a match caught her attention and she watched as Remy held it to a candle that had been placed on a nearby stack. He grinned at her, the flickering light playing off his features. “Remy’s tried to light ‘dem de easy way, but it don’ work so well…de wick for some reason always goes ‘boom’.”

The small pool of light revealed a thick layer of dust and the odd cobweb over the jumble of items. “So this is it?” TJ asked with of a hint of dismay.

Remy laughed. “Non, Chere. Remy ain’t gonna put his lay-up right under ‘de hole for anyone to find.” He scooped up the candle, and grabbed her fingers with his free hand, pulling her close for a brief kiss before leading the way into the dark recesses of the attic.

Weaving around and about things, TJ brushed at her hair as she felt the creepy brush of a cobweb as she walked too close to it. “Ewww. You have got to be kidding me.” She whispered to him.

The attic suddenly opened up in front of her, as they rounded the corner. A stack of boxes served to lengthen the outcropping of the wall in the odd niche in some forgotten corner of the mansion. It was fairly neat and tidy, the roof sloping steeply to the end of it, but the nearest boxes were tidied of their dust, the floor clean and the area cobweb free, she noted gratefully. There was an old mattress, covered with a clean sheet and a couple of rumpled blankets at the bottom, a rickety chair, and a cloth covered box that evidently served as a table of sorts, by the looks of the odd stuff piled on top of it.

Remy dropped her hand to reach down to the jumble of items, finding and lighting another candle to bring additional light into the area. He shuffled the items; a stack of cards, an empty beer bottle and a pack of smokes; to one side and then fished out the contents of his rucksack onto it – the glasses clinking against each other as he uncapped the bottle yet again and poured a more modest amount into each.

“Beinvenue.” He grinned at her and he sat carefully on the edge of the mattress, patting the spot beside him. “Well, dis be it chere…”