Author: Aly Martinez
Category: Contemporary
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/aly-martinez/page,13,605557-the_difference_between_somebody_and_someone_the_difference_trilogy_book_1.html
Her eyes narrowed, pure Remi Grey attitude locked and loaded.
I had a better plan for her mouth.
Remi
As only Bowen’s could, his mouth came down over mine with a tender possession. How did he have such a powerful control over my body? Such a connection. Such a hold on me. I was not a prude or an angel, but if I were being honest, I hadn’t been intimate—like really intimate—with a man in a long, long time.
Not that I was nervous about being with Bowen, because I’d never felt so drawn to someone. But also, I didn’t want to get carried away physically if he wasn’t ready emotionally.
It wouldn’t be good for either of us. Plus, I wanted whatever this was budding between us to last. I wanted the man’s body seven different ways to Sunday, but when his mouth claimed mine and his strong yet gentle hands caressed my body as we lay on the massive swing, I reminded myself again to slow down and smell the flowers.
“Wait,” I whispered, cupping the side of his face.
His low voice filled my ear as he nibbled at my neck. “What are you doing to me, Remi?”
My mouth fell open as his teeth grazed the soft skin below my ear, chills exploding across my skin. “I’m making the serious, albeit probably frustrating, decision right now to slow us down so you don’t do something you’ll regret.”
His head popped up, a scowl I hadn’t seen since the bubble tea incident crinkling the space between his eyes. “Are you kidding me? The only thing I’m regretting right now is that I didn’t drag you back here the day I laid eyes on you at the courthouse.”
I smiled, basking in the realization that the attraction went both ways. “Are you sure? I don’t want all the talk of accidents and the past to cloud the present.”
He blew out a ragged breath. “Okay. That’s fair. But just so you know, I don’t feel the pain or the clouds of the past when we’re together. Being with you is the only time I ever feel the warmth of the sun.”
Emotion lodged in my throat as I stared at him.
It was different for me, but a part of me had been cold and shrouded by darkness for too long too. I hadn’t understood it when I’d met him, but Bowen’s own brand of warmth had been enveloping me from the very moment I laid eyes on him.
I had no hesitations when it came to being with him. No second thoughts or fears. And if he could say the same, then who was I to stop him from giving us what we both so desperately needed?
“You should probably get back to kissing me, then.” I offered him a playful grin. “And maybe lose some of the clothes.”
His breath caught as he stared at me, an inferno igniting in his eyes. “Do you really want this?”
It was such a simple question, and his sincerity cut me deep.
“Of course. Don’t you?”
“You have no fucking clue how much I need to feel you right now.” Reaching behind his head, he clutched the back of his shirt and pulled it off.
I’d been so damn wrong. His clothes had done his chiseled body absolutely no justice. His stomach was rippled, his chest carved to perfection, and even the deep V disappearing into his jeans looked as though it had been cut from stone. Unabashedly, I stared as he unbuttoned his jeans. He left them open as he toed his shoes off.
No man had any business being that sexy while removing his socks.
If I’d thought his skills at undressing himself were impressive, the scorching swiftness with which he used to strip me bare was downright masterful.
“Fuck,” he groaned, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
I arched off the mattress, running my hands through his hair as he worshipped my body with his lips and hands. He was still wearing pants and I had never in my life resented something so damn much.
But to his credit, he found all the right spots. All of them. The place on my collarbone that made my toes curl when he licked it. The sensitive area on my hip that had me bucking into him when the slightest pressure was given by his strong hands. The way he nipped at the inside of my thigh when he removed my panties, the last stitch of fabric on my body.
He was working me over, and I’d be damned if there was a single thing I could do to stop the flood of need that washed over me with every glance and touch.
His chest rumbled as my hand slipped into his open fly, dipping beneath a pair of black boxer briefs, and palmed his hard cock.
“That’s what you do to me, Remi. You feel that? That’s all for you.”
“Yes,” I panted before his mouth found mine again.
I gasped when his hand found my core, and together we explored each other. We pressed and ground. Took our time, not wanting to waste a single sensation.
Soon, I’d inched the denim and his briefs down his hips and my hand stretched to close around his thickness. I was wanton and desperate as he gently circled my clit exactly the way I liked it.
I was either going to die or roll him over and take what I needed. Much more of his skilled attention and my money was on the latter.
“Please,” I begged. “More.”
His glassy eyes met mine as he rose above me, his hand leaving my center. Then, as if I weren’t already putty in his hands, he brought his talented fingers to his mouth and sucked my wetness from the tips.
“Mmm, heaven,” he whispered.
A whimper tumbled from my lips, but he didn’t stop there.
His finger left his mouth, and without hesitation, he held my gaze as he guided his length to my entrance and pushed inside, seating himself at the hilt.
“Fuck,” he rasped. “This is mine. Do you hear me? Nobody else’s.”
As charity would have it, I didn’t mind belonging to him, so I agreed. “All yours.”
I’d needed that.
That possession.
That owning.
It had been missing in my life for as long as I could remember. But there in that moment, I realized nothing before that night even mattered.
I was his, and as he began a relentless rhythm inside me, he showed me exactly what that meant.
It was feral and passionate.
It was pawing and scratching.
It was holding my breath when I didn’t know how much more I could take before my limbs flew away with the wind and my body shattered into fragments of desire and flesh.
It was the way his back flexed under my palms as he drove into me and how he rolled to his back, never breaking our connection, so I could ride out my pleasure, straddling the gorgeous man I’d been lucky enough to find in the unlikeliest of places.
It was crying his name as he devoured my body until I thought the sun would come up and reveal that it had all been just a dream.
But it wasn’t.
It was real.
And the notion that Bowen could truly be mine left me higher than any orgasm ever could.
“Fuck me,” he whispered as he collapsed beside me, dragging me over to lie at his side when he flipped to his back.
I nuzzled into the curve of his neck. “I believe that’s what I just did.”
He hummed and kissed the top of my head. “I could do this all night.”
For a second, I considered starving and catching the play-by-play highlights on SportsCenter later, but knowing better, I tipped my head back to look at him. “All night? You might need some nourishment if you plan to last that long.”
A breathy chuckle rumbled at my cheek. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
“No, ye had little lunch. Ye needs meat and maybe a beer or two.”
Right on cue, my tummy growled, and without missing a beat, he slid down my side and pressed his ear to my stomach.
“What was that?” He shifted and kissed my sensitive skin, and then he went back to listening as I held in a giggle. My insides answered him. “Oh, really? Well, we can’t have that. I’m not the only one who’s going to need to last all night. I mean, I am a master at flying solo, but—”
Clearing my throat, I interrupted. “I don’t mean to break up this very cute thing you ha
ve going on right now with my digestive tract, but I need to get cleaned up and you need to feed me dinner. We have a game to watch.”
His eyes turned dark and both corners of his mouth twitched. “Or I could just stay down here and have you for dinner.”
Sweet Lord have mercy. It was tempting.
I sat up far enough to catch his face, press a kiss to his forehead, and then I suggested in my most convincing tone a better solution. “Or maybe you feed me and then have me for dessert.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” he relented as he rose, naked and outrageously gorgeous.
I offered him not a lick of privacy as he bent to grab his pants from the ground. My gaze ate him up one inch at a time.
His abs rippled as he stepped into each leg and tugged them up over his gloriously hard ass. Focusing on the button of his jeans, he said, “You keep looking at me like that and, instead of feeding you, we’re going to be testing the payload of the bolts I used to hang that damn swing again.”
“What? It’s not my fault. I feel certain the other nerds do not know you are working with that.” I circled my finger in the air, pointing to the bulge tenting the front of his pants. Clearly, I was the only one not quite ready for round two.
A devilish smile played at his lips. “I’ll go lock the dogs up. Give me two minutes and you can come in and get cleaned up.” He found the remote beside me and tossed it onto my lap. “Put the game on.”
Neither of us wasted any time. In a matter of about twenty minutes, we were eating the most flavorful brats and loaded baked potatoes while slugging back beers as Boston showed our bullpen who was boss.
I didn’t even care.
The game was a lost cause by the time he took my plate and empty bottle inside with his and returned looking hungrier than before we’d eaten. He kissed up and down my neck while I typed out a quick message to Aaron, letting him know I wouldn’t be home, using some lame excuse about having a girls’ night out with Amber and some of her college friends. He’d see right through it, but at least he wouldn’t worry until I could fill him in on all things Bowen Michaels.
“You ready to go inside? I’ll give you the grand tour of the bedroom,” Bowen asked, nipping at my ear.
“Mmm,” I hummed, threading my fingers into the top of his hair. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? What else could you possibly need right now?” He grinned. “Water?” After clicking the TV off, he sat up, shoved an arm under my legs, and scooped me up in one fluid movement. “An after-dinner mint?” Barefooted, he cocked an eyebrow and carried me inside the house. “Does my clumsy girl need to stretch first?”
I laughed and rested my head against his chest, his thin, dark hair tickling my cheek. “I’m good.”
He smiled wolfishly. “I think I can make you better.”
And dear God, better was exactly what he gave me. For hours, he worked my body, alternating between worshipping me and driving me to the point of insanity. By the time it was all said and done, there wasn’t a part of my body he hadn’t touched—or that I wouldn’t spend the entirety of the night hoping he’d touch again. I was going to be exhausted at work the next day, but that was a small price to pay when he curled behind me, cocooning me in the safety of his arms.
Falling asleep, sore, sated, and breathless, I felt something new in my heart. Something peaceful and complete.
Bowen Michaels might have thought he’d failed at love before, but he was healing me with it now.
Remi
“Nice job,” my physical therapist, John, praised as I collapsed flat onto the mat.
Cradling my shoulder, I mumbled, “Didn’t feel nice.”
He laughed and nudged me with the toe of his sneaker. “Maybe not now, but you’ll thank me one day. You’re only stuck with me for a few more weeks, right?”
“Yep. I’m counting down the days. Not that I don’t enjoy your company. It’s just…” I gingerly sat up and curled my tired arms to my chest. They felt like noodles that had been cooked too long. “Nope. I lied. That’s exactly what it is.”
He barked a laugh and walked toward his next client, calling out, “Ah, quit your complaining. I’ll see you next week.”
I groaned at the thought. Before the crash, I had been no stranger to the gym. Though I had always been more of a cardio girl with the occasional weights thrown in. I still ran when I had the chance, but after I’d spent eight weeks with both arms in casts, physical therapy was a different kind of beast altogether.
“You looked good today,” Ms. Linda said, standing over me, extending a water bottle in my direction. In her mid-sixties, she was something of the grandmother at Atlanta PT. Though she didn’t look like any grandmother I knew. Tall and lean, with thick, rich auburn hair and gorgeous green eyes, she was easily one of my favorite people at the physical therapy center—though John didn’t exactly give her much competition.
During our many chats, I’d learned she was a retired nurse who had taken to volunteering a few months earlier. She mostly walked around telling everyone how awesome they were doing while handing out water, sports drinks, and on more than one occasion homecooked brownies. Not to brag, but also to brag, it was a well-known fact that I was her favorite.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the water bottle and making quick work of twisting off the cap and lifting it for a long drink.
“No problem at all, kiddo.” She walked over to a stack of mats against the wall and hoisted herself to sit on top. “Seeing you each week is always a good reminder for me to take a break. Oh, that reminds me. Next week, I’m making another batch of those chocolate drizzle Rice Krispies Treats. Would you like me to bring you another pan?”
See? Totally her favorite.
I arched an admonishing eyebrow. “Are you going to let me pay you this time?”
“Sure,” she chirped.
“Wait. Let me rephrase. Are you going to let me pay you this time and not sneak it back into my purse on my way out?”
“Oh, then, no.” She winked. “You want ’em or not?”
I groaned as I pushed up to my feet. “Of course I want them, Linda. Nobody in their right mind says no to your culinary perfection.”
“Just for that, you’re getting extra chocolate drizzle.”
And just for that, I was going to have to get creative when it came to hiding money in her back pocket like a reverse robbery. I had her phone number. Surely she had a Venmo or something set up.
“You’re too good to me.” I stretched my hands above my head and leaned from side to side. As much as I hated to admit it, John was right. I always felt a little stronger the next day.
She smiled. “I try.”
I walked over to my bag and picked my phone up. Aaron had already texted me three times asking me if I was on my way yet. It could be said I didn’t have the most punctual track record when it came to our weekly coffee dates—or in general. But today, I had an entire weekend of Bowen Michaels to fill him in on and only an hour between his meetings. I couldn’t afford to be late. I still wasn’t positive the timing was right to tell him, but after I’d stayed the night at Bowen’s, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep putting it off.
I typed out a quick On my way and then started collecting my stuff.
“I have to head out. But next week, it’s me, you, a pan of Rice Krispies Treats with extra chocolate drizzle, and forty bucks, right?”
She shook her head. “Get out of here with that nonsense.”
I hooked my bag over my shoulder. “Okay, okay, fine. Fifty bucks.”
She rolled her eyes and shooed me with her hands. “You better stop before I change my mind.”
I squeaked at the threat she would never follow through with and zipped my lips closed. With one last grin, I jogged to the door.
“Later, Remi!” John called from across the gym.
I lifted two fingers in a peace sign before busting out of there.
It wasn’t a long drive, but I was still ten minutes late. The expression on
Aaron’s sourpuss face when I walked into the café made it seem like I’d left him there for the better part of a decade.
He glared at me as I hurried over in a pair of yoga pants and an off-the-shoulder cropped sweatshirt I’d thrown on over my tank top. I sank down into the chair across from him and focused on his forehead. “You do know that’s the face that causes those wrinkles you’ve been bitching about.”
His eyes flashed wide, and he rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “So it’s your fault I suddenly look a hundred years old.”
I lifted the latte he’d bought me and clicked my paper cup with his. “I plead the Fifth.”
He moved his fingertips to his nonexistent crow’s feet. “Does the Fifth cover my antiaging cream?”
“Psh. Don’t act like you don’t already use mine.”
That finally earned me a smile, even if he looked away so I wouldn’t see it.
“Don’t be mad,” I said. “I really did leave when I texted you. I got a call while I was in the parking lot. I’m sorry for making you wait.”
His gaze came back to mine, a brilliant white smile splitting his mouth. “It’s fine. I’m just giving you shit.” He leaned in close. “The hot barista gave me her number.”
I couldn’t help it. I immediately flicked my gaze to the counter.
“Stop looking,” he hissed.
Which honestly is the worst possible thing you can say to a person in that situation. Because it made me look back at him before my brain forced my gaze back to her. And when her eyes made contact with mine mid-visual seizure, I made it even worse by squinting and staring up at the menu over her head as if I didn’t already have a drink in front of me.
There was no way to deny we were talking about her.
“Sweet Jesus,” Aaron muttered, going back to rubbing his forehead. “Anyway, heads up, I told her I was meeting my sister here so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea when you arrived. Not that it matters anymore.”
A laugh bubbled from my throat, and as much as he probably wanted to strangle me, he laughed too.
“I hope you’re planning on living with me forever because, at this rate, that’s how long I’ll be single.” He brought his coffee to his lips.