Remington “Riptide” Tate is one of the hottest underground
fighters around. There are sides to
Remy that no one else but those closest to him knows. He is black and he is blue. He has one thing that he will fight for and
do whatever it takes to protect, that being Brooke Dumas.
During Real and Mine we got to meet Remy. He’s hot, he’s sexy, he’s fierce, he’ bipolar. We watch him when he’s high and when he’s low. We watch it all through Brooke’s eyes.
In Real and Mine we got Brooke’s POV. In Remy
it is all in Remy’s POV. We get too see what
Remy was thinking, feeling, wanting and needing from the start.
I absolutely loved Remy, more than the other books hands
down. I connected with Remy more than I
have with Brooke. Remy is more than just
a fighter who is not only fighting in an underground MMA fight, he is fighting
to stay Blue, fighting to prove to Brooke that she is the one thing in his life
that means the most to him. His music
centers him, it is how he expresses himself to Brooke and tells her how he
feels with songs.
I loved seeing how from the moment he laid eyes on Brooke he
knew she was the one he had to have.
Remy is omg sexy beyond words. He
is protective, sweet, caring, and sex on 2 legs and he only has eyes for
Brooke. Seeing the events that happened
between him and Brooke in his POV made me love him even more than I did prior
to reading Remy. Remy deserves his happiness and he finally gets
it with Brooke.
I am addicted to this series, each book is like a fix for my
addiction. I am anxiously awaiting the
next book in this series, like a drug addict is needing his next hit. I hope that in the future books we will get
more of Remy’s POV because I for one could not get enough of this sexy fighter.
During Real and Mine we got to meet Remy. He’s hot, he’s sexy, he’s fierce, he’ bipolar. We watch him when he’s high and when he’s low. We watch it all through Brooke’s eyes.
Now, we get the story from Remy. We get to see and hear
what’s going on in Remy’s mind. How he feels, what he’s thinking, how he
suffers. Finally. We get the other side of the story.
I was so excited to get this story. I wanted it. I wanted to
read it. I wanted inside Remy’s head, and I got it.
It was fascinating to see all of this through Remy’s eyes.
Hearing his thoughts, hearing how he was suffering for Brooke, for someone to
love him, for someone to find him worthy. Hearing how he handled things and how
he tried to keep calm added a new depth to the first two stories. It was also
comforting to hear how Brook centered Remy and helped calm the voices, calm the
“speedy” and help him through the black.
My only complaint is I didn’t get to hear everything I
wanted. I felt there were some really important parts that were not covered in
this book. There were pieces in the first two books that I wanted from Remy’s
POV. How did he handle being apart from her? I wanted more from that.
I’m really glad I read Remy. It added some pieces of the
puzzle and made a more complete picture.
EXCERPT:
“REMY!
REMY! REMY! REMY!” people yell.
Their chants grow in intensity while
her startled golden eyes devour me like I’m devouring her.
“You want more Remy?” the announcer
happily asks the crowd. “All right then, people! Let’s bring out a worthier
opponent for Remington Riptide Tate tonight!”
Hell, they can bring out anything
they want, man or monster.
I’m so primed, I could take a couple
at once.
In my peripherals, I’ve got her
pinned down, nice and tight. In that frilly shirt. Those body-hugging pants.
I’ve already cataloged her at about a 120 pounds and five feet seven, at least
a head shorter than me. In my head, I’m already measuring her breasts in my
hands and tasting her skin with my tongue. Suddenly, I notice she whispers
something to her friend, rises to her feet, and takes off down the aisle.
“And now, to challenge our reigning
champion, ladies and gentlemen, is Parker ‘the Terror’ Drake!”
I stare in disbelief as she walks
off, and a knot coils tight around my gut as the rest of my body tightens in
preparation to chase.
The crowd comes alive as Parker
takes the ring, and all I can do is watch her leave my arena while every
molecule in my body screams at me to go get her.
The bell rings, and I don’t play the
little feinting and waiting game that me and my opponents always do. I stare
into Parker’s face and give him a look that says, Sorry, dude, and go straight for the slam and knock him down.
He falls splat and doesn’t move.
The crowd is stunned into silence.
The announcer takes a moment to speak as I wait, frustrated as fuck, my heart
pounding in anticipation as I wait for Parker to stay down and the counting to
begin.
It begins.
Come on, motherfuckers . . .
I’m fucking winning the championship
this year and I won’t be disqualified . . .
Just call it a knockout and let her
hear . . .
TEN!
“Holy cow, that was fast! We have a
KO! Yes, ladies and gentlemen! A KO! And in record time, our victor once again,
I give you, Riptide! Riptide, who’s now jumping off the ring and—where the hell are you going?”
The crowd goes crazy as I land on my
feet on the aisle and their screams follow me all the way to the lobby. They
are screaming for me while my body is screaming for me to catch her. “Riptide! Riptide!”
My heart pumps like crazy. She’s
walking fast, but I’m fucking running. Every one of my senses demand I chase,
capture, and have this girl. I grab her wrist and spin her around.
“What the—” she gasps, her eyes wide
in shock.
She’s so beautiful my lungs freeze.
Smooth forehead, long lashes with spiky tips—those gold eyes, that dainty nose,
and those marshmallow lips. I need to taste that like yesterday. My mouth
waters as a wild, primitive hunger opens up inside me.
“Your name,” I growl. Her wrist is
tiny in my hand, fragile, but I’m not about to let go. Oh, no.
“Uh, Brooke.”
“Brooke what?” I snap, tightening my
hold.
Her scent works me into a lather. I
need to find the source of that scent. The back of her ears? Her hair? Her
neck?
She tries to pry her hand free but I
tighten my hold because she’s not going anywhere but my bedroom.
“It’s Brooke Dumas,” a voice behind
me says, and then the crazy friend who was with her throws off a number, which
my idiot brain doesn’t grasp, for I’m still hung up on her name.
Brooke Dumas.
My lips curl as I meet that pretty
gold gaze. “Brooke Dumas,” I say gruffly out loud, slow and deep, my tongue
twisting around the name as I savor it. Such a strong, classy fucking name.
Her eyes widen in shock—and she
gives me a hungry, doe-eyed look that lets me see she’s a little excited but a
little afraid.
It makes me crazed. I need to touch,
smell, taste, claim. I burn with the need to tell her she should be afraid of
me, and at the same time, all I want is to pet my hand down her long hair and
promise her I’ll be her protector.
Yielding to the impulse, I slide my
fingers into the nape of her neck, fighting to be gentle so that she won’t run,
while only one thought remains in my head: Take.
Her.
My gaze never leaving hers, I set a
dry kiss on her lips, slowly, trying not to scare her, but just so she knows
who I am, and who I will be for her.
“Brooke,” I say against her soft
lips, then I draw back with a smile. “I’m Remington.”
Her eyes meet mine, and they’re
metallic gold and liquid with something I recognize as wanting. My smile fades
as I look down at her mouth again. It’s so pink and soft I bend my head to take
it even more deeply. My blood rushes through my veins as her scent drowns me. I
want this woman. I can’t wait one more second without tasting her, taking her.
One second she’s warm and trembling
in my arms, quietly tipping her head back for more, and the next, the crowd
engulfs us and some fucking lunatic is screaming in my ear.
“Remy! I
FUCKING LOVE YOU! Remy!”
Brooke Dumas seems to snap into motion
and quickly squirms free.
“No.” I reach out to snatch up a
piece of her white shirt. But she and her friend wind through the throng like
wiggly, little bunnies, and I’m in the crowd stuck with two fans who—
“Riptide,
my god, please let me touch your cock.”
“Riptide,
you can take us both together!”
As they rub their hands down my abs,
I think, FUCK! and pry their arms
away, then I charge after her. When I reach the elevator, the gate is shut and
I hear her noisily ascending up to street level.
“Remy!”
“Remington!”
Growling in anger, I slam my palm to
the closed door, then dodge an incoming group of fans and bulldoze my way back
into the locker room.
I don’t know if I’m angry,
frustrated, or . . . I don’t know. Where the fuck is she going? She was looking
up at me like she wanted me to eat her; I don’t even understand fucking females
and never fucking will. Scowling as I charge to get my stuff, I slam my fist
into a locker.
“Take care of your knuckles, Tate!”
Coach snaps as he gathers all my things into a red duffel.
I loathe being told what to do. So I
slam my other fist into another locker and dent it like I did the first, then I
glare at the old man and grab my headset, my iPod, and a sports drink.
Following my crew out to our Escalade, I’m pissed as fuck at myself for letting
her go. I try saving her number on my phone, at least the few numbers I
remember.
“That KO was unbelievable, dude, you
knocked him down within three seconds!” Riley says, laughing.
I stare out the window at the lights
of Seattle and tap my fingers on my knee.
“All right, so what was that all
about? Are we going to discuss the elephant in the car?” asks Pete from up
front. “The one with the long hair? You seemed hell-bent in chasing, Rem?”
“I want her watching my next fight.”
The car falls silent when they realize I’m fiercely hung up on her.
Pete sighs. “All right, I’ll see
what I can do. We also got you a couple of girls.”
“A good assortment,” Riley adds. “A
blonde, a brunette, and a redhead.”
And as soon as we get up to the
suite, there they are. They’re waiting for me. Three girls with
different-colored hair, waiting in next-to-nothing clothes, ready to fuck the
Riptide.
Hey! I’m Katy Evans
and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and
three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care
of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story.
I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more
about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!
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