A Promise Between Friends
Remy watched Storm pace in front of him, his mouth curled up slightly in his amused state. He figured she'd be in a mood like this when she had called him and asked him to come over. This was always how it went: she'd go out with some tool that complimented her at whatever bar or café or business meeting, then when the date went to hell she would call him as soon as she was in the door so she could vent to him for about an hour and a half... until she was ready to either accompany him for the evening or just go to bed.
Their relationship wasn't exactly what he'd hoped it would be, but it sufficed. Many times he figured he had it better than any scoundrel that managed to get her to go on a date. When he showed up she was always still dressed up, she always had alcohol available, and she was always pissed. He turned up his beer, listening to her ranting on about her latest catastrophe of an outing. She was sexiest to him when she was angry: wild, fiery. It lit a flame in him, especially the rare times when she would let a swear slip. He had to fight himself then, to keep from pinning her against the wall and claiming her, from showing her what it was she wanted... needed. And how he was the only man who could give it to her right. But he managed to keep himself under control, and usually left with nothing more than a kiss and a 'thank you'.
"You gon' sprain y'ankle, chere, keep stompin' aroun' like dat," He pointed to her five inch heels with his bottle. She huffed, snatching off the gold stilletos from her feet and slinging them across the room, "Dis fool got you damn heated, chere!" He laughed, "Mon Dieu, what happened dis time?"
"The same thing that happens every time," Her high pitched yelling echoed through the entire upscale apartment, "Men are dogs!"
He smirked, seeing her reach and yank her hair clip from its place and shake loose her thick white curls. The woman was flawless.
"You always sayin' dat," he said, "You date 'em anyway, chere." She spun and faced him, her hands firmly on her hips at his implications.
"What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded.
"What I said," he cocked an eyebrow, daring her to say anything to the contrary, "You ti'ed a dogs, den you should quit datin' 'em."
Storm glared at him, flaring her nostrils at his boldness. But he remained steadfast, matching her gaze equally until she had no choice but to throw her hands in the air and groan loudly. He was right.
"Sit wit' me, chere. Remy'a get you tipsy an' take advantage of ya... like we bot' know you wan' him to." He purred. She rolled her eyes, pushing away the offered unopen bottle before slumping down next to him. "What?" He whined, "Not enough so dat you wouldn' rememba', chere! Where's de fun in that?" Storm giggled and shrugged away from him when he whispered in her ear.
"I don't even drink, you man-whore."
"Right, den why you keep a full stock in y'kitchen?" He asked skeptically. She leaned against her fist, watching him open the bottle he'd offered to her and swig from it.
"I keep it for you." She answered, laughing loudly when he nearly choked.
"Whatchu mean?" He rasped out, pounding his chest.
"What I said," She retorted, mocking his earlier attitude.
"Hmm," Remy grinned, running a hand up her smooth exposed leg, "Someone wan' me to stay aroun'."
"Hands off, Lebeau." She commanded, "You come over all the time and you drink, so I keep the stuff handy." The smile dropped from the man's face and he removed his hand from her thigh.
"Damn tease," He grumbled to himself, "Fo' the record, you call Remy ovah here, chere. He don' jus' show up beggin' fo' it."
Storm cooed at him, seeing him revert to pouting already, "I know! That's why you're my bestest friend in the world!" She laughed when he swatted her hand away from pinching his chin.
"I ain' tryna be yo' damn friend." He grumbled again, swallowing from his beer. Storm clicked her tongue.
"Well I appreciate the gesture, anyway." She smirked, pulling her knees up and leaning against him. He wrapped an arm around her while she snuggled into his chest.
"Show me." He stared a hole into her snow white hair until she turned to face him. Her forehead creased, seeing his eyebrows shoot up.
"How?" She asked, he shrugged, the small crow's feet around his eyes becoming more defined as a wicked smile grew on his face.
"Naked."
He howled when she stood and punched him in the arm, "Merde! Okay, okay, chere!" He laughed, clutching his shoulder. She shook her head, trying to hide the blush that was growing on her face.
"How about I let you stay the night." She offered after thinking. It was only fair, as many times as he took time out of his life to humor her. That, and he had already had a few drinks. She was afraid of letting him drive home even the slightest bit buzzed.
"Ah," he smiled, licking his teeth at the offer.
"If you promise not to try anything." She added quickly.
"Ain' no tryin' involved, cherié. Remy plan to do." He warned, eyeing her thoroughly.
"I mean it, Remy!" She bit back a smile, "You're out of here unless you promise!" Remy moaned his annoyance loudly.
"Fine, damn it. Where de bedroom, Stormy?" He stood, stretching. Storm narrowed her eyes at him.
"This way," He puckered his lips to her as she passed him, "Moron." He smirked, waiting until she was completely in front of him before smacking her hard on her backside.
"Remy!" She screamed, grabbing the stinging area where he had stricken her.
"Mmm," He moaned as he stopped in the doorway, leaning into the bedroom by his arms, "Say my name again, Stormy."
She ignored him, grabbing a navy t-shirt and stepping into the bathroom to change. Remy plopped onto her bed and removed his shoes. He took the time to take in his surroundings. Storm was impossibly neat, he felt almost like he was in a hotel...except for the lack of a television.
"Stormy," He called, "Where th'hell yo'..." His words and thoughts flew out of him when she emerged from the bathroom. "Shit."
"What?" She asked, looking down at herself, "What?" She asked more urgently when could find nothing out of the ordinary, "It's a t-shirt!"
Remy laughed, running a hand over his face, "Mon Dieu, chere, if you only knew." She smiled at him through her confusion.
"Whatever," she laughed, circling to the other side of the bed, "Is that what you're sleeping in?"
"Nah, chere," He answered, standing and pulling his shirt off.
Storm could feel her jaw drop, getting a look at his body. The muscles in his back flexed as he pulled it over his head. Her heart skipped a beat when he turned to face her, the defining lines in his chest and abdomen being illuminated perfectly under her dimmed lights. He undid his belt and Storm felt a warmth rush between her legs at the idea of his more hidden assets. He bent down, almost in slow motion, pushing his jeans down fully. She couldn't believe that this was the first time she'd seen Remy unclothed. The man was build like a god.
He ran a hand through his hair as he kicked his pants off and Storm adjusted herself before she was caught oggling him.
"Remy hope he can at least spoon ya, chere." He winked, pulling the sheets back. She stood, noting the sudden rise in temperature and nodded dumbly.
"Uh, sure." She said, sliding into the bed, and tensing when she felt him mold his body to hers, snaking his arm around her. She shivered, feeling his breathing on her bare neck. Her heart was beginning to race, just having him this close.
"You know what," She said suddenly, sitting up and scooting away from him, "Maybe this was a bad idea."
Remy sat up, concerned at her swift mood change. She was obviously uncomfortable, and he definitely did not want her to feel ill at ease in her own home.
"Remy'a just sleep in the den, if it don' feel right, chere." He soothed, rubbing her arm.
"Yeah," She breathed, "Yeah that's a good idea. That's probably better."
He stood, taking a pillow with him to sleep in her living room.
"Goodnight." She called after him. He paused, turning to face her.
"Bonne nuit, Stormy, chere." He answered, exiting the room.
Remy tossed on the couch. He'd managed to nod a few times, but could not bring himself to sleep comfortably.
He stirred, feeling a disturbance in his uneasy rest. He frowned with his eyes closed, he felt as if someone were hovering over him. His eyes shot open and he nearly jumped, seeing Storm standing over him.
"Did I wake you up?" She whispered, twisting the hem of her shirt. He rubbed his eyes, propping himself up on his elbows.
"Non, chere, I was up," he answered.
Storm's eyes sank closed, hearing the depth in his sleep ridden voice. She'd tossed and turned for hours trying to rid the image of his body from her head.
But they wouldn't leave, rather, they expanded into vivid images and fantasies. Him pinning her against the wall, bending her over the kitchen table, lifting her onto her dresser.
She wanted the real thing.
"Good."
"You wan' me to come back to yo' room?" He asked, under the impression that she'd had a nightmare and was frightened awake. She shook her head, stepping closer to him. Remy's expression changed from shock to surprise when she straddled him timidly, leaning forward and kissing him softly.
"I want you." She answered, breathlessly. Remy smirked, folding his arms behind his head.
"Dat so, Stormy?" He asked. Storm creased her forehead.
"You don't?"
Remy chuckled, "Au contraire, chere. You can't tell?" He asked, shifting underneath her. She giggled.
"Well...you feel excited, but you don't seem too eager." She bit her lip, unaware just how badly Remy wished to flip her over and make it so that she'd be immobile for days.
"Hmm. As Remy recall, you made him promise not to try anythin'." He grinned, seeing her laugh loudly atop of him.
"I see you are a man of your word."
"I am," He agreed, "Dis' should be fun." He growled as she lifted the thin night shirt from her body.
"Oui." She smiled, "It should."
End