"Bon nuit, mignonne."
Effortlessly, Remy's hand darts out to catch the glass that
slips from Rogue's.
"Remy! Ya startled me. Ah was beginnin' to think ya
didn't want to be here."
"Dis s'posed to be a pajama party, neh? Seein' as I
sleep au naturel, left me wit' out a t' ing to wear."
He steps into the light, enjoying the spark of pleasure that
glows in Rogue's eyes as she notices his light azure silk
pajamas and darker smoking jacket.
"Ah -- ah think what ya got on is fine, Remy. Ah've
never seen that color o' silk before. Reminds me of a robin's
He takes the remaining glasses from her hands and sets them
in the sink. Rogue busies herself with gathering what she
needs. She feels him come up behind her. His breath teases
her neck. She stands on tiptoe, not quite reaching the marshmallows
on the top shelf. Remy's palm caresses the back of her hand
as he reaches over and grabs the bag for her.
"Ya missed out on all the games."
Remy swallows the last of the beer from his bottle.
"Maybe not all."
He sets the bottle, long side down, on the countertop.
"Party jus' ain't a party wit' out playin' de classics."
Rogue watches as, with a flick of his wrist, he deftly spins
the bottle. It rattles noisily. Remy studies Rogue, smiling
to himself as she holds her breath expectantly. The bottle
slows, then stops. The neck of the bottle points unmistakeably
"Look at dat."
He circles the counter, coming up behind her. Lovingly, he
lifts her thick, shining hair to one side, then kisses her
neck lightly. She shivers.
His lips whisper against her ear.
"Maybe it's a little chilly."
He turns her around to face him, drawing her closer. She
leans into the warmth of his body.
"S' okay, t' ink maybe you gon' be warmed up right quick."
"Ya think you're that good, Cajun?"
He laughs softly.
"How good I am somethin' best experienced firsthand."
She blushes. The hair on his chest crackles, sensitive, into
through Rogue's shirt, to her stiffening nipples. He slips
her top button loose, revealing the firm swell of her breasts
above bandaged ribs. Seeing the bandages, Remy stops.
"Maybe it too soon for dis, Rogue."
She kisses his cheek.
"That's sweet o' ya to be so worried 'bout hurtin' me."
Her fingers caress his neck, then tighten in his hair, pulling
his lips to hers. Without warning, his lips yield to hers.
A chaste kiss given lightly deeps with a young woman's desperate
passion. Instinct overrides thought as Remy inhales deeply,
catching the scent of Rogue's desire.
"Chere, I wan' make love to you in de worst way."
"Ah don't think ya can do it much worse that the Genoshans,
His fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders. She gasps.
The sudden flare of anger in his eyes startles her.
"Dat had nothin' to do wit' love!"
He eases his grip, slides his hand, then his lips to her
neck. He continues to caress her shoulder as he playfully
nips he ear. He slips his other palm beneath her breast. His
thumb rubs lightly across her nipple. She slides her hands
into his robe, letting her fingers rest on his waist.
"Rogue, I got to be knowin' what dey did to you, so
I don' hurt you de way Genoshans did."
He flashes her a broad grin.
"'Course, if Genoshans did somethin' you 'specially
enjoyed, wouldn't mind knowin' dat, either."
Continued in Chapter
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