Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Clapping broke through the hazy, lusty spell he’d cast over me, and I was the first to pull away. His arm tightened around me as if he didn’t want me to go, and he glared at my now swollen mouth.
“Rafe,” I murmured. “We have an audience.”
He turned his head to look and sure enough, some guests were clapping and hooting at the show we’d put on, while others frowned in disapproval.
As if remembering himself, Rafe released me. I eased away and he licked his lips, eyes on my mouth. “Just . . . making sure they’re buying it.”
“Right,” I murmured before taking a long pull of my beer.
Chapter Sixteen
By the time night fell and everyone was leaving or making their way to a guest room, the tension between Rafe and me was at breaking point. I constantly had to remind myself what a bad idea it would be to cross the line with him, and he didn’t make it easy. He was casually flirtatious, complimentary, and considerate without even thinking about it.
Thankfully, he hadn’t kissed me like that again, but Jen had caught me on the way to the bathroom later to thank me for making her son so happy. Didn’t that make me feel like the worst human being ever.
I was not a broody person, but Rafe must have been rubbing off on me because I was definitely brooding by the time he led me to the bedroom we were to share.
The room was large, with a massive bed and a bay window overlooking the backyard. Rafe told me it was his room growing up, but there was no hint of a teenage boy here. Obviously his mother had redecorated it into a grown-up guest room. When I’d stared at the bed, apprehensive, he’d offered to sleep on the floor.
“No,” I’d assured him, trying to pretend I was unaffected by the idea of proximity. “It’s a gigantic bed. I’m sure we can share it without breaching each other’s personal space.”
Therefore, we’d readied for bed in tense silence and I wished like hell I’d brought one of my many oversized ratty T-shirts to sleep in, rather than the cute strappy summer nightie I’d brought thinking I’d be hot and alone.
Rafe took one look at me and glanced away quickly.
We’d gotten into bed together, my heartbeat pounding in my ears, and we’d lain down with space enough for another person (maybe even two) between us.
“Night, then,” I’d tried to say, but it came out a hoarse whisper.
Rafe had exhaled and answered gruffly, “Night.”
Then he switched off the light, and it plunged us into a darkness that seemed to weigh down on me.
I was aware of every breath he took, every minuscule shift of his body.
I imagined him rolling over onto me and kissing me like he’d kissed me out in the garden that day, and I could almost feel his hands on me.
Skin burning hot, I rolled onto my side, curled into a ball, and squeezed my eyes shut.
* * *
• • •
Sleep must have eventually taken me, because it was hard heat and a masculine scent that wound into my consciousness and yanked me awake.
My eyes flew open and I stared at the bedside table and the curtained window beyond it. Dim light lit the room from the sunlight pouring through the cracks above and at the sides of the drawn curtains.
A heavy weight lay over my body and I glanced down without moving my head and found Rafe’s hand on my stomach, his arm resting over my waist.
The hard heat that had awoken me was him.
He was burrowed into me, his chest to my back. I could feel the rise and fall of his breathing and the soft exhalation of it in my hair. He was asleep.
But his body was not.
I sucked in a breath as I registered the erection digging into my ass.
Arousal flushed through me like a wildfire, my nipples tightening as my breasts swelled against the fabric of my nightie. A rush of wet tingled between my thighs and I couldn’t quite catch my breath. I was almost dizzy with the sensation. In fact, I think I lost complete control over my body, because my hips moved of their own accord so that my ass ground against Rafe. A moan fell out of me before I could stop it.
Rafe tensed.
I stiffened.
Then the hand on my stomach curled into a fist, taking the fabric of my nightie with it.
“Star?” Rafe’s voice was hoarse with sleep. Then he groaned in realization and whispered, “Shit. Sorry.”
But before he could move away, I lifted my ass again, feeling his cock press deeper, and this time I shivered with need.
“Fuck.” Rafe released me, but only to roll me onto my back and brace himself over me.
My thighs parted as I gaped up at him in a heady, lust-filled fog. Sometime during the night, he’d taken his shirt off and Holy Hotness . . .