I’m still not recovered from seeing him up close, and my bloodstream already carries all kinds of strange, bubbly, hot little things.

I’m still going with the opinion that you should see a doctor instead of have sex.  I mean, whatever that is, you don’t want to spread it around.

Brooke carries on in her own head for a while, talking about Remmy is just SO MANLY and in fact is TOO MUCH MAN because that’s how SUPER MACHOMANLY he is.

Remmy gets to the ring and fights Hammer while making eyes at Brooke.  It’s…surprisingly bland, but I think only because I don’t find it sexually arousing, and the book seems to be banking on that.  It didn’t write in any backup emotions.

My sex muscles clench every time he hits his opponent

Okay, there’s YKINMY (your kink is not my kink) and then there’s…a vague worry that this sort of thing could turn destructive if she doesn’t get a handle on it.

“I need to get in the mood.  Hey, Remmy, fight someone in front of me and we’ll have sex, yes?”

During the night, he goes through several fighters

AHAHAHAHAHAHAno.

I would suggest that the author get in a fight and find out just how much energy even one match takes out of you, but I get the feeling the response would just be “but Remmy is MANLY, YO!  LIKE, SUPER MANLY AND STRONG!  SWOON, BITCHES!  MUSCLES!  WHEEEEE!”

I imagine his hips rolling over me, his body inside mine,

Brooke decides in the middle of all this that she totally wants to fuck his brains out.

I’d like to remind everyone that literally their only interaction so far has been to exchange names. \~/

And, you know, eyeball fuck a lot, but I’m not sure that should count.

This is the most intense foreplay I’ve ever felt

You mean the foreplay where you’re not actually even interacting.  What kind of sex have you been having before now?

The book claims he won TEN fights (in a row?) and I just roll my eyes and have another drink.  \~/  Then he jumps out of the ring so he can approach Brooke (while she flails endlessly on the inside) and say that he’ll “send someone for her” later.

It takes the woman next to me about a full minute of shaking and hyperventilating to get out, “Omigod, omigod, omigodgodgodgod, his elbow brushed me, his elbow brushed me!”

I get the feeling these aren’t real people.  Or that this is, like, a massive group prank pulled by a bunch of people who are sarcastically imitating excitement, but none of the main characters get the joke and they think it’s all serious.

weightless as whipped cream

…eh?

Two guys named Pete and Riley come over and take the whole group out of “the Underground” (yeah, let’s just call that a very poorly named arena or something) and over to a hotel across the street, claiming to be part of Remmy’s team.  I say ‘claiming’ because in the alternate version of this book that’s playing in my head, they’re just conmen who saw that whole exchange and decided to capitalize on it.  I mean, it’s not like they offer up any proof besides “no, we’re tots with Mr. Tate, trust us.”

Alas, we are not reading that other book, and instead when they get up to the penthouse suite and Brooke goes into the master bedroom, she finds Remmy there.

Two Asian women kneel on the bed behind him, each of them rubbing a shoulder.

…I’m trying to think of a way that this image could get any more offensive, and I’m struggling.

\~/

Also, you can’t really give a good massage from that position.  Hard to get enough leverage that way.

The two women don’t have a single speaking line at all before they’re summarily dismissed.

Remmy barely says a word, either, he just sits there cracking his knuckles and being all manly and muscley while Pete comes in and explains things.  Apparently they looked her up and want to hire her for her physical therapy services as they go on the road.

Except what I heard was “Remmy randomly saw you in a crowd, demanded your name, did a background check on you, and came up with an excuse to drag you on the road with him.  Presumably, if you’d been in some other profession, he would have come up with some other excuse.”

And then I

Then he demands that she give an answer on the job offer right away, which just throws up more red flags.  For any job, really.  Don’t take a job that demands an answer immediately, that’s shifty.

“I’ll work with you for the three months you have left to tour if you include room, board, and my transportation, guarantee me references for my next job application, and let me promote the fact that I’ve worked with you with my future clients.”

Although I give her props for making some smart demands.  She’s slightly less in the negative now.

“But I want it on paper she’s not leaving until the tour is over.”

Aaaaaaand we’re back to creepy.

Seriously, the guy randomly picked her out of the crowd and decided to become obsessed with her, in no genre will this ever be anything except stalker-obsession.

She goes back to her friends and they all spend several pages talking about the plot and Remmy’s manliness, which I guess also counts as ‘the plot.’

I promise you I can take care of myself, ask my self-defense class teacher.

I am seriously skeeved by this ‘self defense’ bullshit line they keep harping on.  The idea that a few classes can 100% protect a woman from harm just leads to the line “well, if she didn’t really want it, she should have fought harder.”

They to a drive through for snackage.  It’s riveting, I assure you.

“Mel, he hired me as a specialist. There will be no kissing, it’s all professional here.”

Yea-no.  That whole debacle was not the least bit professional.

And then the chapter just sort of peters to a stop.  I guess going out for burgers just took too much effort to keep going.