“You’re not a stereotype. Pull up YouTube instead and cue up a bunch of music videos. I don’t fuckin’ care. I’m going at your pace, and something makes me think you want to hold off for—”
The last thing I wanted was to hold off. Rather than let him finish his sentence, I let go of the remote, leaned up, and kissed him. His hands skated down my torso to my hips, and he lifted me on top of him. I spread my legs so I straddled him. He moved his hands from my hips to my ass. I loved feeling his fingers spread wide there. A variety of sensations coursed through my body, from sheer excitement, to heat in my breasts, to wetness in my pussy that did nothing to soothe the deep ache I felt there as well.
Rafferty pulled at my ass, which ground me against his erection. He broke the kiss and stared up at me. “Are you sure you’re ready, Lex? I don’t want you to do this because you feel rushed or obligated or—”
I moved my hips against him. “I’m very sure, Raff. It’s gonna hurt, but as I understand it—”
He cut me off with a quick kiss. “Gonna do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t hurt that bad, baby.”
His words sent a chill racing down my body. Still, I smiled at him. “That’s good to know.”
“Do you want music playing? Or do you just want to make out some more?”
I lowered my lips to his.
“Both,” I murmured just before I kissed him.
He chuckled, rolled us over, and grabbed the remote before he broke away from my kiss. “Time to see if your taste in music has changed,” he muttered, and twisted at the waist so he could bring up one of my music playlists on YouTube.
The opening notes of “Sailor Song” filled the room. Rafferty tossed the remote on the other side of my queen bed, then he stole my attention when he pulled his t-shirt over his head.
I’d gone out of my way to ignore his bare chest yesterday, but now… I took in the entirety of his ink and muscles. “Great gracious, you’re a walking work of art.”
His eyes glittered. “For you.”
My head tilted on the pillow. “What?”
“The majority of this ink is for you.”
I blinked for a moment and shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
A huge capital ‘A’ sat over his heart. He grabbed my hand and put it over the tattoo. “You wanted the story behind just one of my tattoos. That one’s for you.”
“No, Raff. That’s a college football logo.”
He dipped his chin, seriousness filling his eyes. “Look closer, woman. You’ve seen my dad’s tat since it’s on his bicep and he rarely wears sleeves. It’s not the same.”
I pulled my hand free of his hold, and traced the lines. He was right. Itwasdifferent…but to an untrained eye, he could pass it off as a bad take on a popular logo.
My gaze met his. “But why?”
“You’re the one who stole my heart a long fucking time ago.”
This was getting way too deep… and venturing into superstitious territory for me.
As though he could read my thoughts, Rafferty said, “And Blake told me not to do it. Even said you’d be the first to point out it’s bad luck.”
“You did it anyway.”
His brows shot up. “Yeah. Like I said, you’re as much mine as I am yours.”
“You’re not allowed to be this sweet to me.”
A sly grin curled his lips. “Trust me, I’m going to be anything but sweet in a few minutes. You gonna let me take your shirt off?”
I nodded, wishing I’d worn a fancier bra.
He leaned up so he stood on his knees, pulling me up to a sitting position. Then he sat on his calves and his eyes watched his hands lift the hem of my t-shirt. I lifted my arms and he pulled my shirt off.
