Â In case you guys missed this sexy MINE teaser reveal today at Totally Booked, here it is!
* * *
â€śLadies and gentlemen, we all remember our crushed soulsâ€”our crushed spirits!â€”when the crowd favorite lost the championship final last year.â€ť
The crowd boos in memory, and my throat clogs thinking about how Remyâ€™s broken body had been carried out of the ring.
â€śHave no fear, people. Have no fear!â€ť
â€śREMY!!!!!!!!!â€ť someone screams.
â€śBring him out already!â€ť another yells.
â€śOh, we will. Have no doubt about it, we will,â€ť the announcer somberly says, painfully drawing it out for the crowd. â€śAfter much speculation and many rumors, itâ€™s completely official. The man is fighting this season, and heâ€™s taking no prisoners, people! Here he is, ladies and gentlemen. Here. He. Is! You all know who Iâ€™m talking about?â€ť
The crowd roars, â€śRIP-TIIIIIIIDE!â€ť
â€śOne more time, â€™cause I canâ€™t hear you!â€ť
â€śThatâ€™s right, ladies and gentlemen! Hereâ€™s our favorite bad boy with that infamous smile and those deadly fists, ready to carve R.I.P. into anyone who stands in his way this year. The one, the only, Remingtoooon Tate, your RIPTIIIIIIIIIDE!!â€ť
Wild excitement rushes through me as the crowd stands and roars like never before.
â€śMy god, the fans are thirsty for him,â€ť Pete breathes.
And so am I. My god. So am I.
Across the ring from me, women are waving panties in the air. Panties! Another lifts a sign that reads pull me under, riptide!
My mouth is dry, and a thousand and one winged things flutter in my stomach when I see a flash of red.
And then, heâ€™s closer.
Trotting out of the walkway and to the ring.
To his ring.
My body enlivens with sensations as he breaks through the crowd.
Some fans have escaped their seats and make a grab for him, but he easily shoves his way through the throng, his face shadowed by the hood of his red satin robe. Remy. My Remy. The man I love with every ounce of me.
â€śRiptide, you put the sex in SEXY!â€ť
â€śRemy, I want you to fucking impregnate me!â€ť
He climbs into the ring with a fluid jump, and then he removes his riptide robe, slowly, without hurry. Hundreds of female screams ring in my ears as he goes to his corner to hand the robe to Riley, his coachâ€™s second.
Riley pats his muscled back with a smile and tells him something. Remington throws his head back as if heâ€™s laughing and then takes the center of the ring, spreads his long, ripped arms out, and starts doing his slow and cocky I-know-you-all-want-to-fuck-me turn.
I will never, ever, get used to the sight of him in that ring. My heart whams excitedly into my rib cage while all my insides pulse with need, and my chest feels like a balloon about to burst in excitement. Hard, lean, and perfect, he is all dangerous, all beautiful, and all mine.
My eyes absorb every inch of what every other woman here is drooling for, and I helplessly let my gaze run up and down his perfect athletic form. My eyes lovingly caress his tan and kiss the inky Celtic bands over his biceps. I admire his torso and his long, strong legs, his sculptured arms, his narrow waist and broad shoulders. Every muscle in his perfect body is so defined that you would know exactly where one structure ends and the next begins if you trailed your fingers along his magnificent form.
And as he turns even more, I see the washboard abs with eight squaresâ€”eight! Yes, it is impossible, but heâ€™s got them . . . and his face.
Oh god, I canâ€™t even take it.
The scruffy jaw. The brilliant blue eyes. The sexy smirk. The dimples. Heâ€™s got a smile on his face, his expression, one that tells you heâ€™s got a whole lot of trouble planned for the evening and you donâ€™t want to miss it, is playful and boyish.
A collective gasp spreads out in the rows behind me as he moves to face us.
The butterflies in my stomach burst awake when those dancing blue eyes start scanning the crowd, silently laughing at all of us. Heâ€™s clearly amused by our obsession over everything Remington Tate!
Beside me, a middle-aged blonde with too much Botox jumps up and down and screams like a lunatic, â€śRemy! Give me a taste of that Riptide!â€ť
The impulse to drag the woman down by her hair seizes me, but at the same time, I know you canâ€™t look at him without dissolving into a pool of lust.
He is a stud. He was made to mate. To procreate.
And I want him like my next breath.
I want him more than any one of these screaming women wants him.
I want every fragmented part of him. I want his body. His mind. His heart. His beautiful soul.
He says heâ€™s mine, but I know that thereâ€™s a part of Remington Tate nobody will ever have.
I am his, but he is untamable and unconquerable.
The only one who can defeat Remington Tate is himself.
Heâ€™s up there, ever elusive and mysterious, a black box of mystery without end. And I want to get lost in him, even if I never come out the same.
My nerve endings stir and tingle in excitement as his twinkling blue eyes glide down the length of my row, where he knows I will be. I swear every part of me quivers in anticipation, waiting for those eyes to find me.
He electrifies me. Invisible currents leap between us. His smile blazes through me, and suddenly, the inside of my chest, where my heart beats, feels like a burning torch heâ€™s just lit.
His eyes hold me clasped in the loving heat of his, and I can see his quiet joy tonight, his possessiveness, the territorial stare that tells everyone in this room that I. Am. His.
Then he points at me.
My heart stops.
It seems that everyoneâ€™s eyes follow the finger pointing in my direction, aimed straight at my chest, where my heart races for him, his red-hot blue gaze clearly saying, â€śThis oneâ€™s for her.â€ť
A delighted roar from the crowd explodes around me. It hits me like adrenaline, like a shot of tequila that flies straight to your head, the way his fans love him. The way he loves them back. The way he loves me.
Iâ€™m amazed by the way the public reacts to him and by the way he stands there, with his dimples flashing, sucking in all the energy in the room and channeling it into â€śRiptide.â€ť
God, I love him, and I never want him to forget it!
Overcome with the impulse, I blow him a kiss.
He catches it and smashes it to his mouth.
The crowd grows even louder. Remy points at me, laughing, and Iâ€™m laughing too. My eyes burn a little because Iâ€™m so happy that I just canâ€™t fit inside my skin. Iâ€™m happy that heâ€™s happy, and heâ€™s where he belongs.
This is his season. This year, nothing will stop Remington Tate from being the Underground League champion.