He’s mine, and I’m his. Our love is all-consuming, powerful,
imperfect, and real…
In the international bestseller REAL, the unstoppable bad boy of the Underground fighting circuit finally met his match. Hired to keep him in prime condition, Brooke Dumas unleashed a primal desire in Remington “Riptide” Tate as vital as the air he breathes… and now he can’t live without her.
Brooke never imagined she would end up with the man who is every woman’s dream, but not all dreams end happily ever after, and just when they need each other the most, she is torn away from his side. Now with distance and darkness between them, the only thing left is to fight for the love of the man she calls MINE.
“Up on the table, Riptide,” I command. I just like ordering him around because he gives me this whatever look of amusement. Like he does now, like he’s supremely entertained by me. He lies down on the table, which is much like a massage table, at the center of the small room. Nearby there’s also a refrigerator, for meds and cold items which I’ll raid later for his ice massage.
He spreads face down first, and his body temp is so high after his workout, I can feel his heat before I even touch him.
“You feel okay?” I ask, caressing my gaze up the line of his spine. “Anything knot up? Bothering you?”
“I’d like to have my hands on you as soon as possible,” he whisper-growls at me, and I bite the inside of my cheek.
“Alright, but like they say, ladies first.”
He groans. “Don’t torture me, baby, I want to fuck you already.”
I bend over and set a kiss on his ear. “It’s not torture, try to relax,” I whisper, and I really want him to relax, focus on his body; I curl my fingers around his shoulders. The breath hisses out through his teeth, and I also quietly hold my own—but our contact does that to me. Exhaling softly, I acclimate to him and start massaging with my fingers. He also acclimates to me and I know he’s starting to relax when he groans softly.
We’re so connected, I can’t touch his skin without feeling delicious little ripples radiate through me. It sometimes feel as if I am tapping into that powerful source that makes Remington Tate Remington Tate. Every centimeter of my body becomes cognizant of his muscle and skin under my fingers—and of everything else about him. The way he smells right this second, of ocean and soap, and just him. The way his chest expands with his exertion. The way his hair is spiky and rumpled and wet.
I love working on him with my hands.
This is my job, but this is also my love.
I can’t think of anything better than this.
I feel each muscle, one at a time, seeking their heat, digging deep into the belly of the muscle so that there is perfect blood flow into every part of his body. I massage and separate the fascia, kneading the muscle tissue with my fingers to provide good nourishment to the area. When the muscle is loosened, his blood, ripe with every nutrient of his healthy way of living, enters to help repair and grow that muscle.
Once I’ve rubbed him down on both sides, I go to the fridge so I can give him an ice massage. Ice massages are perfect for any knot or injury, but Remington loves them, and I sometimes give him one to speed general recovery.
There’s a Styrofoam cup already in the freezer. It contains a frozen block of water inside, and I rub my palm over it several times, to smooth out the ice and make sure it won’t nick his skin. Then I run it all over his muscles while I hold the back of the cup, almost like I’m sliding roll-on deodorant over his skin.
He lays there and lets me tend him, his sexy male pheromones clinging to his skin like sweat, his body so hot, the ice immediately begins melting. I watch the rivulets of water zigzag playfully along his broad back, and when he flips over, those rivulets do the same down the front of his hard chest.
My eyes follow them while my brain swims with thoughts of licking each of them up with my tongue, especially the ones that slide into his belly button, the ones that curl around his nipples. While I watch and mentally lick every beautiful inch of him, he watches me work on him, his gaze hot and tender and, somehow, grateful.
“I love the way you work out,” I whisper.
“I love the way you work me.”
If you have not read Real, please stop reading this and go pick up Real; as Mine book 2 starts were Real left off.
Mine is the continuation of the story for Brooke Dumas and underground fighter Remington “Riptide” Tate or as he is known to Brook, Remy.
When the book opens Brooke is faced the very real situation of what Remy did during the time she left him; things we don’t see in book 1 as both books are told from Brooke’s POV.
I really do not want to tell you what occurs during the course of this journey, I will say it was hot at times, powerful at times and it allowed the reader to see that love is about dealing with life together no matter what it throws at you.
Remy proves in spades that Brooke is his “real” and she comes first in his life. On numerous occasions his love for Brooke is tangible to the readers and it is clear he will do anything to be with her. These scenes cause the reader to love Remy, his desire to show Brooke she is his “mine” were often heart pulling as this man who never had the love of another experiences that power of love.
Ms. Evans does a wonderful job at making the reader understand the depth of Remy’s illness, as we learned in book 1, Remy is bipolar. Sadly though his family felt he was too ill to be cared for, Remy found a new home with his training team who love and care for him. Now Brooke is part of that team and witnesses first hand the devastation of mental illness. Oh wait I must say I hate Remy’s parents, and you will too!
For me this book shows how life is not perfect; its about loving the whole person, accepting them and deciding yes deciding you are in it for the long haul. Brooke and Remy will face hardship, they will continue to deal with Remy’s highs and lows but they will do it together.
The end of this story warmed my heart and put a smile on my face.
Where to find the Author
Book 1 – Real