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)
He was so beautiful.
Right now, his every feature was granite hard with hunger for me. “Star?”
I urged my hips up to make contact with his arousal. My eyelids fluttered as I moaned and Rafe let out another hoarse curse. Then he shifted between my legs, holding himself above me as his cock nudged near my clit. The friction was just a tease, but sensation sparked down my thighs and deep in my belly.
“Rafe,” I gasped, my breathing quick and shallow.
“Jesus.” He bent his head, pressing his face into the crook of my neck, his hot breath scattering goose bumps down my chest. His hips moved against mine as I arched into him.
The coil of tension tightening inside me squeezed sharply and my eyes flew open in wonder as I realized I might come like this. “Rafe.”
Hearing the urgency in my voice, he lifted his head from my neck and gazed down at me with determination as he moved his hips faster, harder against me. We were dry-humping like two teenagers, and it was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to me.
Rafe yanked down one side of my nightie and his hips stuttered at the sight of my bare breast. “You’re so fucking beautiful. I swear it’s going to kill me.” Then his hot mouth covered my taut nipple and I cried out, my back arching to push into him.
Patience snapped, Rafe’s hand slipped between us, and I’d just felt the first spectacular press of his thumb on my clit when three bangs on the bedroom door broke us out of the spell.
“Morning, sleepyheads!” Gigi shouted through the door. “Mom told me to come wake you, so I’d start getting ready if I were you or she’ll come up here herself.”
Gigi, Rafe’s sister, had just interrupted us having almost-sex in his old bed in his parents’ house, parents whom we were deceiving by pretending to date. And Rafe was paying me to do that. Rafe who didn’t do casual sex.
Cold reality flooded me, and Rafe cursed at my expression. “Star—”
“Off.” I pushed him and he rolled off me with a disgruntled and very loud groan.
“Star—”
“Nope.” I jumped out of bed, my heart hammering, my clit throbbing with unsatisfied desire. He’d blue-beaned me! Angry at that and at myself and at the sexy fucking sight of him half naked with his big cock stretching his pajama bottoms, I whisper-yelled, “That was not supposed to happen and it will never happen again!”
Rafe scrubbed his hands down his face. “Star—”
“Stop saying my name. I’m going to take a shower and when I get out here, we are never speaking of this again.”
He pushed up to sitting, his brow furrowed, and he looked as if he was in pain. I thought maybe it was the hard-on he was rocking, but then he shocked me by saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you into anything—”
“No.” I stopped him, even more horrified by that than what had happened. “Rafe. No. I was right there with you. I just . . . it’s a mistake. We’re not . . . and I’m not.” Frustrated with myself, I shrugged wearily. “Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.”
A hard glint replaced his concerned expression. “Go shower first.”
Telling myself I was relieved, I grabbed my bag and marched into his bathroom.
It was only as I was showering and trying not to think about our awesome fooling around that I realized he’d never actually agreed to pretend it hadn’t happened.
Chapter Seventeen
The ride back to the city was not fun.
Icy silence filled the car, and for once it wasn’t Rafe’s fault. Before meeting him, I rarely brooded. But he had me doing it twice in one weekend. Even Gigi and his mom had given Rafe concerned looks before we left. I knew in that moment I was doing a crappy job convincing them Rafe was in a happy serious relationship, but I couldn’t pretend.
Rafe needed to know that the flirting and the affection and the sex were things that should never occur between us!
I tried to tell myself my silence was all about making a statement, putting professional distance between us.
Yet I was brooding.
Because . . . I liked Rafe.
However, I knew there was no place in my life for him.
Nor for me in his.
I think I might have sighed in relief when the Pontiac pulled up to my building, because Rafe gave me a sharp look. Ignoring it, I said, “I’ll get my luggage.”
Rafe was already out of the car, grabbing my suitcase from the back seat. When I reached him on the sidewalk, I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll take it from here.”
“I’ll carry it up for you.”
At his flat tone, I finally dared to meet his eyes. Dark clouds had blown in on the Fourth of July weekend as if sensing the turn in my mood. Consequently, Rafe was not wearing sunglasses and he was not hiding his displeasure.