Rafe shook his head and slid his arms around me fully so that he was hugging me into his chest, his large hands rubbing my back. “Poppy won’t be up for hours yet.”
“Still, I don’t think we should take any chances, Rafe,” I said, my voice muffled by his shirt.
Rafe sighed and pulled back from me, but kept hold of my hand.
“Clara, I told you last night,” he said in that soft but firm tone, “I don’t give a fuck if my sister sees me with you. She knows I’m a grown adult. She knows I’m not celibate and she’ll be chuffed to bits that I’m shagging someone who isn’t a stuck-up bitch for a change.”
I managed a weak smile. “How do you know I’m not a stuck-up bitch?”
He laughed. “Just a hunch.”
I dropped my eyes from his and bit my lip. “Rafe, I just don’t know if us being open about having a relationship is the best idea for now.”
“Clara, I don’t?—”
“Hear me out, okay?”
Rafe’s jaw clenched in obvious frustration, but he gave me a short nod to continue.
“It would confuse Ozzie. It might break some of the trust I’ve built with him. Most children of divorced parents want them to reconcile. A new girlfriend is not a step towards reconciliation. Ozzie will know that, and it might make him angry. That could affect my progress with him.”
Rafe started to shake his head, his mouth opening to interrupt, but I laid my hand over his chest and he closed it with a sigh.
“Trust me, I know kids. I know how they will react to things. Ozzie likes me now because he doesn’t think I’m a threat. If he saw me in a different light, it could be very difficult for him to deal with. He’s only seven, Rafe.”
Rafe sighed but nodded a couple of times. “Okay, okay. I guess you’re probably right,” he said in a grumpy voice. “I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardise how well he’s doing.”
My chest tightened. He was a good dad. I wished I could be completely honest with him about my reasons for hiding our relationship. My hand moved to Rafe’s face to trace his stubble with my fingers, down from his high cheekbones to his strong jawline. I couldn’t quite get my head around the concept that I could touch him freely.
“I can’t believe that we...” I whispered, then broke off, not knowing how to complete that sentence.
Rafe smiled again, slipped his arms underneath me and lifted me up onto the granite worktop, stepping in between my legs.
“You better believe it, Clara,” he said as he kissed the nape of my neck. “You know,” he told me, his hands sliding over my jumper up to my breast. “You’re very sexy when you’re in schoolteacher mode.”
“I doubt that, Rafe,” I said through a surprised giggle. I was wearing my super soft, but oversized jumper with a pair of leggings. “This outfit is anything but sexy.”
“I love this jumper,” he murmured against my lips, his hand lightly squeezing my breast. “It’s so soft.”
“I, uh… the kids like it,” I said in a shaky voice, rocking against him, feeling lightheaded. He moved his hand to the apex of my thighs and pressed on exactly the right spot over my leggings, moving in small circles. My breathing started coming in short pants as I felt myself coming closer to the edge.
“And these leggings are very sexy,” he said against my ear, his low rumbling voice sending sparks through me. “I can feel everything through them.”
“Oh my God,” I said, clinging to his neck as my orgasm built.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured in my ear. “Right here on the granite, just like in your dirty little dreams.” His low, dark voice brought all the memories of last night flooding back and pushed me over the edge. I gave a sharp cry as I came against his hand.
“Well done, darling,” he said in my ear, one hand cupping me with firm pressure whilst the other held me up on the granite – otherwise I was sure I’d have melted onto the floor in a boneless heap. After a few moments, he put his hands on my hips again, lifted me off the granite surface and put me safely back onto the kitchen stool. Then he swivelled the stool around to face the kitchen island, reached across and put a mug of coffee in front of me. When I didn’t move, he took both my hands and wrapped them around the mug.
“Drink your coffee, Clara,” he said, his body caging me in from behind. I could feel his heat and the hardness on my back.
“Right, yes, okay,” I said weakly as I managed to raise the coffee up to my mouth. He gently moved my hair back to kiss the side of my neck, then stepped to the side, grabbed his phone off the counter, glanced down and then back at me.
“I’ll see you later tonight, okay?” he said.
“Uh, yeah, okay. Um…” I trailed off, glancing down at his crotch, then back up at his smirking face. I wasn’t at all sure of the protocol here. “Are you, I mean…?”
He raised his eyebrows. “No time for that, I’m afraid,” he said through a smile. “I’ve got to get to court, but I wanted you thinking about me all day. I didn’t want you to forget what happened or how good it is between us, understand?”
