I know all about the crowd he hangs out with. All of them are older. Most of them are drop-outs, and some even run with a local biker club. I feel for his mother. She has her hands full. I'm only surprised, even at his young age, that he hasn't already moved out or been thrown in jail.He is everything I hate in guys: a disrespectful jackass, too damn full of himself. And that name he dubbed me with . . . I thought it was kind of sweet at first because for once he seemed genuinely nice about something, saying he loved the color of my hair. Then later he explained the real reason. Now every time I hear him say it and see the gleam in his eyes because I know what he's thinking, I blush clear up from the bottom of my spine to the top of my head.

"I love you so much Remi," he whispers against my lips as he continues to make love to me. "I don't think I'll ever be able to explain the depth of what I feel for you. I've known it since I was twelve. That first time my mom hired you. Do you remember that?"

I pull out of her and turn her around to face me then kiss her again sweetly as I gaze into her anxious eyes. "Don't say anything," I whisper not wanting to ruin this, reaching for a towel and I clean her up. "Just remember this." I say as I kiss her again and she kisses me back willingly. "Nothing we do will ever be wrong. You hear me? You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how it’s always been and always will be."