Rafe’s handis between my legs, and I’m not doing anything but staring at him. I had a few guys try to feel me up before, but this is the first time I’ve actually wanted the touch. There’s a big part of me that feels like I’m doing something wrong by allowing his hand to remain on me. Will he assume because I’m letting him go this far, I’d be willing to go further? And isn’t there a three-date rule? Gwen used to say any girl who puts out before then was considered easy. I don’t want him to think that, nor am I ready to jump into bed with him.
“You’re good,” Rafe assures me softly as if he can sense what I’m thinking, or at least knows I’m not completely comfortable in this situation. When I don’t respond, he leans in again and kisses me, not moving his hand at all, just holding me between my legs while his lips press against mine. When he slips his tongue in my mouth, I nearly melt. It’s strange and exciting. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on.
We kiss, heck, it’s a full-on make out session while the ride makes a few more revolutions then eventually slows to a stop. I pull back and lick my lips. He’s a really good kisser. It makes me think about how much more experience he has than me. I wonder if he can tell.
I shift a little, expecting him to move his hand, but he doesn’t right away. Instead, he pushes against me harder for a second, then drags his palm down the inside of my thigh before wrapping his fingers around my leg above my knee. His chest is rising and falling a little quicker than it was, but so is mine. Neither of us say anything.
We were one of the first cars to load, so we exit the ride quickly without having to sit through all the starting and stopping again. Rafe gets out first, then reaches for my hand to help me up and out of the carriage. My legs feel a little weak. I can try to blame it on the fact that I’m nervous, but I know the truth. He doesn’t release my hand as we make our way down the ramp. I keep stealing glances at his profile, wondering what he’s thinking, but his face is impassive, not giving anything away.
He guides us over to another line for a ride, I’m not even sure which. I make a point of looking around and people watching so I don’t end up just staring at him. After only a second, he grabs a lock of my hair that’s hanging over my breast and tugs. I turn my narrowed gaze on him, my question clear on my face.
“What are you looking at?” His chin is lowered, and he’s staring intently right into my eyes.
“Nothing.” I shrug. He places his hand on my shoulder and shifts our positions so he’s standing right in front of me, until he’s all I see. “Is something wrong?” I ask.
“You tell me, it’s like you’re avoiding me.”
“Avoiding you?” I kind of chuckle. “I’m holding your hand and standing right next to you. How could I be avoiding you?”
“You’re not looking at me,” he replies with his full lips turned down in a frown. I think he’s being serious.
“Would you rather I just stare at you?” I lean up on my toes and get closer to his face jokingly.
“Yes.” He nods and wraps his arm around my back, trapping me against his chest. “I would.”
I grin at the way he’s teasing me. “You asked for it. Now I’m going to stare at you all day.”
“Good,” he mutters and looks over my head, scanning the crowd.
“Oh, I see how it is. You want me only looking at you, but your gaze is free to roam?”
“You’re catching on so quickly, it’s almost like you know me.” He meets my eyes, but this time he’s searching them for something. “I’m just making sure no one else can bother us,” he explains, his tone strangely sincere, as if I were questioning his motives for looking around and not just teasing him.
Plastered to Rafe’s chest, I can feel how firm everything is, and I’m not just talking about muscles. I’m pretty sure his dick is against my lower stomach, and that’s even harder than his abs.
I start to pull back, but he tightens his grip, clinging to me. The outline of what’s in his pants is even clearer now. I’m tempted to look down, but I try to pretend not to notice instead.
Rafe lowers his head and puts his lips near my ear. I can hear him breathing, feel his chest moving against mine. How can that be sexy?
I’ve seen couples embracing like this before, sharing little smiles and secrets. I never really thought about what they might be saying to each other, or what they might be thinking, but I feel like I’m seeing it in a new light. I’ve always thought it was sweet and cute, but this doesn’t feel cute. It feels intimate, like we’re sharing a private moment, even though we’re surrounded by strangers.
In the back of my mind, I recognize things might be moving fast, but I swat the thought away. I haven’t been in a relationship in years, and the ones I was in were just short-lived crushes. As long as I’m comfortable with the way things are, why should I care if it’s fast or slow? I’m putting way too much pressure on both of us, considering it’s only a first date and I may never go out with Rafe again.
My stomach dips, but this time, it’s not from butterflies. It’s more like the uneasy feeling I would get when I was driving to the club for the night. It’s not hard to figure out why I don’t like the thought of not seeing Rafe again. I like him. Probably more than I should, considering I just met him. But I like the way he looks at me, like the way he seems to notice everything, and if I’m honest, I think I even like the fact that he stood up to those guys for me. I can admit it now that I’m no longer worried about our safety.
Rafe eventually eases his hold, and we shuffle our way to the front of the line. The guy running the ride barely looks at us as he swings the gate open. I pull Rafe’s hand, towing him around the back, and we find a row of empty swings. I take the inside seat, and I’m already feeling a little nervous. While we were in line, I noticed how high up the ride goes, not as high as the Ferris wheel, but still pretty high. I check my lap belt and the bar several times, wiggling them to make sure they are secure.
The swings have never been my favorite. They cause a strange mixture of feeling completely out of control, which I don’t really enjoy, and the elation of flying.
Rafe stands in front of me instead of getting into his own swing, cupping my cheeks in his hands gently. “You’re scared.” He searches my face.
“Not really scared,” I deny. “I told you it’s been a while. Buckle up.” I tilt my head to the side, indicating for him to get into his own swing.
He stares at me for a moment longer, then slides into his own seat, just in time for the carney guy to make a trip around the ride to make sure everyone is fastened in safely. He wiggles my bar as he walks past, but just looks at Rafe’s to confirm it’s correct before moving on to the people in front of us. I kick my legs back and forth while clinging to the metal chains.
In no time at all, the ride begins to lift into the air and spin slowly. Instead of looking at the ground, I focus on the horizon, but I quickly start to feel dizzy, so I train my eyes on Rafe. He’s swinging out farther than me and to the side, so I can just make out the curl of his lip as he smiles the same lopsided grin that made me reconsider my initial thoughts about him seeming so standoffish.
I watch as he closes his eyes briefly and lifts his chin in the air. That alone is worth riding this stupid thing.
