“I was listening,” he assures me.
“So that Jay guy, how well do you know him?”
Rafe’s eyes narrow. “Why do you want to know?”
I feel kind of hypocritical for even asking, considering the things that made me a little leery of him could be said about the man I agreed to go on a date with as well. “It’s nothing,” I reply, dismissing the subject.
“No, it’s not.” His voice is pitched low. “Why do you want to know?” He enunciates each word slowly.
“Gwen really seems to like him. I was just curious if you knew anything about him and if he’s a good guy.”
“A good guy?” He looks away from me, his eyes becoming unfocused, as if he’s not really seeing the somewhat busy restaurant around us. “I don’t think I know very many of those. What’s the criteria?”
I let out a small chuckle. “Not married or only looking for one thing would be a good start.”
“Is that all it takes?” Rafe meets my eyes again, his dark brows high on his forehead.
“I did say it would be a good start,” I tease with a grin.
“We’re not friends,” Rafe states matter-of-factly.
“Oh.” I’m taken aback by his curt response. “I must have misunderstood.” Geez, he’s acting like he hates the guy. Thankfully, the waiter stops by the table, sets down a slim padded folder with the bill on the edge of the tabletop near Rafe’s hand, and then backs away silently.
Rafe reaches for it while using his other hand to pull cash from his pocket. I use the distraction to excuse myself from the table. “I’m going to use the washroom,” I tell him softly. He looks up from what he’s doing and runs his gaze over me as if he’s searching for something. “Be right back,” I add when he doesn’t say anything.
I can feel his eyes on me the entire walk to the bathroom. I end up smoothing my hands down my butt and the backs of my thighs as I pass through the tightly grouped tables because I feel like I sat in something.
There’s a girl a little older than me coming out of the ladies’ room as I enter, so I hold the door for her to exit and she mouths, “Thank you,” to me. Once she leaves, I head straight to the mirror and look over my shoulder so I can see my butt. A soft sigh escapes me. There’s nothing on my pants.
I pee, then wash my hands thoroughly while staring at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes look a little wide. When the door swings open again, I duck my head, feeling strange that I was staring for so long, then flip off the water.
My eyes are drawn to the door as I grab some paper towels from the wall holder, and I find Rafe staring back at me. “What are you doing in here?” I look around, wondering if I was wrong and this is a unisex bathroom.
He pushes off the wall without answering and steps closer. “Were you hoping there was a window you could crawl out of?” He tilts his head to the side.
“No,” I scoff, half laughing. “You aren’t allowed in here.” I start moving in his direction, hoping to get out of the bathroom before we get caught.
He shrugs indifferently and holds his ground until I’m right in front of him. He’s several inches taller than me, so I crane my neck back to look up at him, wondering what he’s thinking. My hands are down at my sides, relaxed, and I feel Rafe’s fingers trace over my thumbs. He turns my hands so my palms are out, then laces our fingers together.
“We’re going to get in trouble,” I whisper.
“From whom?” He leans down and places his lips softly, yet hungrily, on mine. Instead of worrying about who might catch us, I kiss him back. My lips are just as eager as his. Rafe steps closer to me so our lower bodies are connected, and then he guides my hands around my back, gripping my fingers tightly. My back arches as he leans over me and takes more control of the kiss. He nips my bottom lip roughly, and I gasp.
Sure, I’ve kissed a few boys, but they were boys, and Rafe certainly isn’t. I’d be willing to bet none of them were nearly as experienced as he is, and it shows. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed and a whole lot turned on. It could be that I haven’t had a boyfriend in two years. Most girls my age were dating, while I was taking my clothes off for strangers. I wasn’t even sure I had much of a sex drive until this afternoon.
Being a stripper made me feel dirty, and I thought having sex would make me feel like that too, but I don’t feel like that now. Every brush of his skin against mine feels amplified. My breathing is ragged, making my chest rise and fall rapidly, and I can feel the lace of my bra against my nipples.
“Oh!” someone exclaims, and I break away from Rafe. There’s a woman standing in the open doorway. Her hand is against her chest, and she’s glaring at me.
“Sorry,” I mutter, looking down at the ground. The mortification I was missing before hits me tenfold. It could have been a kid that walked in and saw us bumping and grinding.
Rafe releases my hands and spins so he’s standing in front of me. “Move,” he growls at the woman blocking the door.
“I’m going to report this to the manager. You shouldn’t be in here,” she snaps.
“Get out of the way and we won’t be.” I drop my forehead to his back and cuddle in close. If I could crawl out that window now, I certainly would.
I hear the lady gasp as if she can’t believe the way he’s speaking to her. I’m a little surprised myself. We were the ones in the wrong. I feel his muscles flex as he takes a step forward, and I’m right on his heels.
