Biker Babe in Black Read online

  Looking around the table, Margie raised her hand, brought it to her lips, and sent a loud smacking kiss to each one of them. She faced Remy and ran her finger over the cut on his lower lip. “Let me take you home and do something about that face.” She slipped her arm around his hips and headed for the door. “About the mess you left…”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following week, Remy headed to work, and Margie returned to her job as housekeeper at the Montgomery house. She’d explained to Remy how important it was for her to remain employed and save money. Margie had enjoyed the previous four fun-filled days of lounging around the house. She’d pampered Remy and helped him heal his injuries.

  She figured if he showed up at board meetings covered in bruises and cuts, it would reflect badly on his company. Although, the sight of her lover a little rough around the edges got her hot and bothered something fierce.

  Last night, Margie’s family rode up to Remy’s house to say their goodbyes. They headed to southern Oregon, but promised to return next month. This time around, she and Remy would welcome them with open arms.

  After Remy and her dad beat the snot out of each other the night of the party, it seemed they’d come to a compromise. Daddy promised not to touch Remy if he kept his little girl happy. So far, Remy had kept her very happy, and she knew he was enjoying his end of the bargain.

  The doorbell rang, and Margie hurried to start the dryer. She peeked out the window. Abigail Turner stood on the step.

  Margie smiled and opened the door, happy to see the one person who’d befriended and stood by her side during the brawl last week. “Abigail! Come in, please.”

  “Remy told me you were home, so I thought I’d come over and see for myself.” Abigail gave Margie a hug.

  She led Abigail into the kitchen. “I’m so glad you did. I wanted to thank you for the night of the party. Your comforting hand meant the world to me.” She motioned to the chairs at the table for Abigail to take a seat. “Would you like some tea?”

  “I’d love some, thanks.” Abigail’s eyes sparkled, and a grin erupted. “That was the most excitement Mr. Turner and I have had since Remy grew up and stopped spending the summers with us.” She laughed.

  Margie set the teapot on the stove and turned the burner on. “I’m afraid that everyone else has written me off as bad news for Remy.”

  “They’ll get over it. What matters is you two are back together.”

  Margie studied Abigail. Her friend really was happy for her and Remy. “You don’t know how good that is to hear. I need someone in my corner for when the next party comes around and I don’t get invited.” Margie snickered, but in her heart, she meant every word.

  “I could tell from the moment we met that you’d be the one person who had Remy falling in love…finally.” Abigail picked out a rose from the bouquet in the middle of the table and held it to her nose. “Something in Remy’s eyes gave away his feelings for you. Even my husband noticed and remarked about it.”

  “I do love him.” Margie removed the teapot from the stove and filled two mugs with hot water.

  She handed a mug to Abigail and offered her an assortment of tea bags. Margie picked a green tea for herself. “To be honest, this is the first time I’ve served tea to anyone.”

  Abigail patted her hand. “You’re doing fine. You don’t have to pretend to be anyone around me.”

  Margie blew across the top of her mug. She quite liked visiting over tea.

  “I’m afraid, though, that you’d better keep your eyes open when it comes to Gloria.” Abigail thumped the table with her index finger. “That girl has gotten meaner and more vindictive since she spent time in Europe.”

  “She knows that it’s over between her and Remy. Remy has moved on, and told her so the night of the party.” Margie sipped her tea. “I was there when he told her off.”

  Abigail shook her head and smirked. “That’s never stopped her before. She’s spoiled rotten and used to getting her way.”

  Over their second cup of tea, Abigail filled Margie in on what happened at the party after she’d left. She grinned over how animated Abigail grew regaling the events. The old girl enjoyed every minute of her story telling.

  “You should have seen your Remy.” Abigail leaned back in her chair and fanned her face with her hand. “He finally had your dad slammed up against the wall with his arm at his throat.” Abigail lowered her voice and repeated what Remy had said. “’Call off your men, and we’ll settle this like gentlemen.’ Gentlemen. Can you believe that?” Abigail wagged her head, and her body jiggled. “Then he declared his love for you, and the next thing I knew, your big old dad had Remy in a bear hug, acting like they were best friends.”

  Margie believed the whole thing. In spite of how her dad looked and acted, everyone who knew him recognized his teddy bear of a heart—especially when it came to his daughter.

  Margie waved goodbye to Abigail at the same time a car pulled into the driveway. She jumped up and down and hurried to the garage. Even with Abigail’s visit to entertain her, she’d missed Remy something crazy today.

  She tried to contain her happiness, but the second his car door opened, she squealed. “Guess what?”

  Remy handed his briefcase to Margie and retrieved a bouquet of red roses from the car. “Abigail came to see you.”

  Margie slapped his arm and laughed. “I guess you saw her on your way in. We had a wonderful visit. I really like her.”

  She skipped along to keep up with Remy, who marched ahead of her into the house.

  “Hey, who are the roses from?”

  Remy entered the kitchen and set the flowers on the table. Margie tried to peer around his shoulder, but he teased her and moved the vase every time she tried to glance around him.

  “Is there a card on them?”

  Remy slipped off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He wiggled his eyebrows at Margie.

  “Remy, tell me about the flowers.”

  He shook his head and mimed that his lips remained sealed.

  “Please, Remy.” She stuck out her bottom lip. He’s up to something.

  He walked away from her, turned into the bathroom, and twisted on the tap for the tub.

  Margie frowned. “Are you taking a bath?”

  He ignored her, kicked off his shoes, and threw them into the bedroom. He removed a towel from the closet and laid it over the warming rack.

  “Come on, Remy. You’re acting weird.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the bathroom counter. “Did you get fired?”

  His shoulders shook, and he rushed out of the room. She tapped her foot and waited to see if he planned to come back in the bathroom. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “So…you’re giving me the silent treatment.” She stood right beside him.

  Continuing to ignore her, Remy turned off the water, and tested the temperature with his hand. Margie cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips.

  “Fine. I can act the same way. From now until you talk, I will not utter a single word.” That’ll show him.

  Remy removed a rose head from his pocket and plucked a petal off. And another. Soon, rose petals adorned the surface of the bathwater. Margie bit her bottom lip to keep from commenting.

  Remy finished and moved over to stand in front of Margie. He held his finger in front of his mouth, and she understood she must not talk.

  He placed his hands on her waist and grabbed the ends of her shirt.

  “What are you do—”

  His finger silenced her.

  Remy lifted up her shirt by the hem and peeled it off. Goosebumps spread over her body, and she didn’t protest. She knew Remy understood she willingly played any game he brought to their relationship. She’d proved it to him every chance she got.

  Remy groaned, his eyes drawn to her red push-up bra. She giggled at the pained expression he wore and helped him with her jeans, which joined the rest of her clothes on the floor.

  Margie stood in her birthday suit and
admired the way Remy kept himself in control. She took the hand he offered and followed him to the bathtub.

  Remy motioned for her to get in the water. Hesitating, she tested the water with her toe, then lowered herself down. She sucked in her breath and submerged the rest of her body.

  Her hair spanned out on the surface, the top of her breasts buoyant, and her nipples reacted to the warmth. Her gaze rose to take in Remy. He kneeled beside the tub. His finger trailed in the water and moved the petals around her body.

  His hand skimmed her leg. She shivered, but not from cold. His beautiful cobalt eyes hinted at what he wanted from this game. It thrilled her to have a man so successful, yet the first thing he did upon arriving home was draw a bath for her; to show her he thought of her throughout the day and planned for their time together.

  “I want you,” Remy whispered.

  Margie nodded and enjoyed the way he slipped out of his pants. The evidence of his arousal hovered right above her face, and she reached out to touch, thankful she trusted Remy and that she took birth control pills.

  “Not yet.”

  She drew her hand back, spread her legs, and prepared enough room for him to join her in the tub. Instead of sitting close or behind her, he sat at the opposite end of the bath, keeping his eyes closed and his arms up on the side of the tub.

  Margie refused to break her silence. The pulse on his neck throbbed—thump, thump, thump—and she swallowed.

  The waiting part of the game drove her excitement to new levels. She didn’t know what to expect, or at what time Remy would touch her. She spread her legs wider and arched her back. The desire to lay a hand on him first drove her insane, but she must wait…

  Remy opened his eyes and gazed at Margie. He held out his hand and helped her straddle his legs. Her hair fell on his chest and covered her view of him. She didn’t need to see what awaited her under the water. He never failed to come to her hard and ready, no matter the time or place.

  Margie sank down on top of Remy and impaled herself onto him. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub. Her head lolled back, and her hair moved behind her, allowing him to behold the offering she presented.

  The splash of water onto the floor went ignored, and she rode the rhythm Remy set. Her palms braced on his chest, she brought her gaze back to observe the way he watched the area where her body joined his.

  Up.

  Down.

  Up.

  Down.

  Her muscles tensed all at once, and she moaned with her release. Remy grasped her hips, plunged one last time, and held her still. He filled her completely.

  They stayed in the bath, Margie swaddled in his arms, and waited for the bathwater to chill enough that they needed to get out. Margie relished in the care Remy showed for her as he dried her with one of the towels off the warmer rack.

  “You amaze me.” Remy held out her robe, and she slipped her arms in the holes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In the kitchen, the radio played in the background while dinner cooked on the stove. Margie’s feet danced along with the music, and she used a wooden spoon to stir the pasta. Today was for celebrating.

  This morning, she’d opened a bank account for the first time in her life and deposited all her paychecks she’d received since becoming Remy’s housekeeper. She twirled in circles to the oven and turned off the thermostat for the sweet potatoes. If she figured right, she only needed four more paychecks and she’d have enough money saved for a down payment on a house. Her own house.

  A lifetime of wishing on stars, blowing out birthday candles, and searching for four leaf clovers just to achieve home ownership lay right at her fingertips. She’d kept how close she was from reaching her goal from her family and Remy, afraid she’d jinx herself and something bad might happen to spoil it all. Remy discussed their future together, but it never involved the word marriage. Nevertheless, to own a home sat at the top of Margie’s list whether she got married or not.

  Her daily routine to clean the house, cook the meals, and process the laundry had already fallen into place and seemed normal. Though it didn’t mean she’d forgotten it was a job or that she earned money from doing it. The house belonged to Remy, not her. During the day, she was the housekeeper, and at night, she became his lover.

  She turned the radio off and mused over the rumors and whispers people spoke about her at various parties. His business partners leered at her and joked about Remy paying her to sleep with him. It bothered her, but Remy distracted her, and everything she worried about disappeared back at the house in his arms.

  The wives of those men treated her worse. They stared down their noses at her and kept her alienated. She never told Remy how they made her feel, preferring to handle it herself. But Remy never once made her believe it was wrong to work for him and be his lover at the same time.

  Margie carried a plate of food for Remy and her over to his office. He was working on a project and had asked her to join him in there to eat. Margie had rushed dinner, as Remy needed to attend an opening of one of his new buildings tonight.

  “Dinner time.” Margie entered his office.

  “Mm, it smells great.” Remy took a plate from her and motioned for her to sit on the other side of his desk. “We’re going to have to hurry if we’re going to make it to the opening before it’s over.”

  Margie would rather stay home, but Remy promised they’d show up, toast the building, and come home the minute his speech was over. She realized Remy liked having her by him at his business events.

  “I’ll change as soon as we’re done eating. I’ve already thrown the dishes in the dishwasher.” She took another bite of sweet potato.

  “Margie…” Remy frowned.

  “I know, I know, but I have to do this.”

  “I’ve told you—” He pointed his fork in her direction.

  “Stop. Don’t. I know you love me, but I need to do these things for me.” She smiled. Just to goof with him, she exaggerated a big cheesy grin to make him laugh. Tonight, she didn’t want anything to upset her perfect day.

  ***

  The six-story building lit up the area and impressed Margie. She turned to observe Remy’s reaction and laughed. His satisfied smirk told her he flew high on the power of success at the finished project. They both had a lot to celebrate later, once they returned home.

  No sooner had Remy and Margie stepped into the main lobby than someone dragged Remy away to make a speech at the podium set up on a temporary stage at the back of the room.

  Margie strolled over to the side of the room and found a spot where no one could stand in front of her and block her view. These kinds of moments where she witnessed Remy in his world made her more appreciative of how hard he worked to make the differences in their lifestyles seem insignificant. To him, as long as they were happy, it didn’t matter who else questioned their relationship.

  Remy’s voice came over the microphone, strong and self-confident. Margie smiled, proud of everything he’d accomplished to get this building built. She knew lots of strong men in her life, but never one who commanded such a following.

  “What do you think about Remy’s new project?” Clay Barrett, one of Remy’s associates, slid over to stand beside Margie. She lost her smile. Clay Barrett was the last person she wanted to get friendly with, and she didn’t want to miss Remy’s big moment. The man hit on her every chance he got. With Remy not around, she appeared to be a sitting duck awaiting his attention.

  “It’s a beautiful building.” She turned back to the podium. Maybe he’ll take the hint I’m not interested, move on down the line, and pick up the next decoy.

  The acrid smell of old, musty cigars reached her. She knew without looking Clay moved closer to her, and she stepped back. She needed to wear a sign around her neck proclaiming, “I belong to Remington Montgomery, please stay away!” whenever Clay came around.

  “Not this building, love, although it is spectacular. I was talking about the Steinbeck project Gloria’s wo
rking on.” Clay smirked.

  The hair on Margie’s neck stood up, and her eyes flashed to Clay’s. What kind of project would Remy have going on with Gloria? What the spades is he talking about?

  “I haven’t heard of it.” Margie shrugged.

  “Probably not. I imagine Remy doesn’t talk about having to team up with Gloria on her father’s new non-profit organization they’re planning.” Clay grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

  Ugh…what a dick!

  “I bet a woman like you gets awful lonely waiting all day for Remy to come home to you. Wondering where he could be and where he’s been when he comes home late…”

  Margie snorted and curled her lip. He disgusted her, always throwing her a perverted gesture behind Remy’s back. Remy didn’t hide anything from her. Clay only blew smoke out of his ass to impress her. As if he can.

  “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. If you ever need anything…” Clay reached out to rub his hand along her arm.

  Margie folded her arms and frowned at him. Isn’t he even a little bit afraid of what might happen if I tell Remy what he suggested?

  “Thank you, but I have everything I could possibly want.” Margie needed to get out of there. One more minute with this idiot and she’d haul off and smack him.

  Margie found Remy off to the side of the room discussing the details of the building with the engineers. She stood in the corner out of sight so she didn’t distract him.

  Remy took control of the group of men, seeming right at home in his position as he relayed the steps of the construction project. To observe him in his element awed her. The way he shoved his hands in his pants pockets, leaned back on his heels, and appeared more relaxed. No wonder he’d gotten to where he was today.

  She glanced down at her watch and reminded herself Remy had said they’d only stay an hour at the opening. She sighed. Twenty minutes to go, and Remy didn’t act in any hurry to leave.

  A flash of red out of her peripheral vision caught her attention. She turned her head. Gloria strolled into the room. Margie’s lip twitched. The bitch headed straight towards Remy’s direction.