“Give me a sec,” I tell Keane and walk promptly to the bathroom connected to my bedroom.
After splashing some water on my face, I finger comb the tangles out of my hair. Looking around for a hand towel to dry off with, I spot one rolled up on a shelf under the floating bathroom vanity. I bend down to get it, then stand up—and jump out of my skin when Rafe’s reflection in the mirror startles me.
“Jesus!” I yelp.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” I reply, my neck breaking out in a line of sweat because Rafe is a large man and having him in here with me is making me claustrophobic.
“Do you mind?” I gesture for him to get out.
I take a few slow breaths to calm down.I’m not back in the cage, I remind myself.I’m not back in that room in the basement of Max’s house.
Rafe’s dark brow drops with concern when he sees the color drain from my face. He crowds into me, turning me around and lifting me up to sit on the lip of the vanity countertop, then he steps between my thighs.
“Hey, talk to me.” He cups my face until our eyes align.
I try to shake my head, but his grip won’t allow it.
“Confined spaces,” is all I say, but I know he understands, especially after he told me what happened the night Max found us together.
He brings his face closer. “Focus on me. Breathe with me,” he whispers, and I do.
I grip the hand towel tighter, so I don’t do something completely idiotic like reach out and touch him. My fingertips remember how his smooth, tanned skin felt. How it tasted. I lick my lips, and Rafe’s gaze follows the path of my tongue. My heart rate accelerates again, but not from panic. This time it’s caused by the longing I see building behind his blue eyes.
I need to put the brakes on this. “I’m good now.”
“I’m not,” he replies, and I gasp as Rafe lifts me up by the backs of my thighs and pulls me forward to him. The towel slips from my hand, and I moan helplessly when he swoops in to force my lips apart, licking into my mouth.
The taste of him is so damn good, and God help me, as much as I don’t trust him, I still want him to shove his dick so deep inside of me, I forget my own name.
Rafe sucks on my tongue, sealing his mouth to mine, and I whimper as a flood of memories of us together comes rushing back like it was only yesterday. My fingernails score down the soft fabric of his T-shirt and dig into the firm muscles of his abs. My eyes close as I’m consumed by a careless, drunken desire for the boy I loved more than anything once upon a time.You still do, Kellan whispers in my ear, shocking me out of my lust-fogged haze.
My violet eyes meet his vivid blue ones. Rafe’s face is set in stony determination, the dark stubble along his jawline creating shadows on his face, making him look dangerously beautiful.
“Rafe.” His name falls from my lips. I don’t know whether I’m asking him to stop or never let me go again.
“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he murmurs against my lips before kissing me deeply, stroking his tongue against mine.
Every protest I was conjuring as to why this is a bad fucking idea gets tossed out the damn window when his clever fingers slither underneath my waistband and over the soft hair of my mons. Rafe always knew how to touch me. And once he slides two fingers through my folds, seeking then sinking them deep inside me, I have no control over my body as I let him finger-fuck me to a quick orgasm.
It only takes mere seconds before I’m shuddering and gasping his name, my body trembling like a leaf in a windstorm, as wave after wave of pleasure sends me on a high that I never want to come down from. I watch under a half-lidded gaze as Rafe brings his fingers, slicked with my wetness, up to his mouth and sucks them clean. He smiles at me, his face filled with a softness I haven’t seen for a very long time.
“Better now?” he asks.
“Mmmm,” I hum, too stubborn to tell him just how much better I do feel.
Noise from outside the bathroom catches my attention, and I push Rafe back to hop down off the counter. My clothes are all askew, and I try to quickly straighten them back into place. As soon as I step around Rafe and exit the bathroom, Liam appears in the open bedroom doorway. He gives me a considering look, and I quickly avert my gaze. Can he tell what just happened?
“Video is up,” he tells me, lingering for a second before walking away.
Chapter 16
“Are you sure about this?”
I’m going through the clothes Pearson procured for me, garment by garment. Still haven’t met the man, but according to Tessa, he’s a scary Russian with a scarred face.
Most of the clothes, so far, have fit. I hold up a sparkly dress. I don’t know when I’ll be wearing a fancy evening gown. I skip over it and toss it onto the bed next to Tessa. She’s sitting cross-legged on top of the covers, a large bandana holding back her shoulder-length hair from her face, typing away at her laptop with rapid clicks.
