Page 50 of The Devil’s Feather

I was rambling, but he remained intent, so I let myself keep going. “Deep voices scratch a brain itch. Before I met you, I would have said it’s more of a stim, but you have a panty-dropper voice if I’ve ever heard one. Like damn!”

Rafael’s chest heaved with silent laughter.

Buoyed, I traced the hard edges of his delts and biceps. “I’ve never dated anyone particularly muscular. It fascinates me. Your abs are very pretty, but I also think you would be beautiful without them being so visible, so please drink more water.”

He kissed my temple. “For you, I will try.”

“Never cared much about height; I’ve dated guys shorter than me. You’re so different from most people; it makes sense in my head that you’d be taller too.”

“While it is a relief to meet a woman who does not have a size difference kink, is this about your type or are you simply listing off things you like about me?”

“Why not both?” I twisted so I could look him in the eye. “Can I admit something silly?”

“Submit yourself for judgment,” he rumbled menacingly. “I will decide whether it warrants another spanking.”

“I was jealous of Zainab when we met her in the coffee shop. You didn’t do anything to make me feel that way, but y’all had such easy banter and she’s gorgeous. She’s so sweet, though. I feel silly for being insecure.”

“You should feel silly.” Rafael tsked, lifting his chin. “Zainab is a lovely girl, but she is barely 20 years old and definitely not my type.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a type.”

“My type excludes the religious. She prays too much.”

I poked him in the ribs. “Trickster God will have no others before him, huh?”

“‘All shall love me and despair’.” He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me gently out of the tub. “Hand me a towel.”

I swooned, snagging a fluffy white towel from the rack. “A Tolkien ref? Are you trying to get me to propose?”

He wrapped the towel around his waist as he rose, sadly blocking my view. “Give us the ring, preciousss.” Gollum’s voice in bass was infinitely creepier. “Sneaky little hobbit.”

“Oh god, I take it back.”

“Come, I want to show you something.” Rafael hardly let me throw on my robe, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the bathroom.

“Is this another secret dungeon?” How many surprises did this place hide?

We entered his office. I squinted. Often backgrounds changed drastically before I could parse them, but something was different …the Giger piece was gone! Its absence revealed a pocket door.

He opened it, and I entered, frowning in confusion. A convertible standing desk and an expensive-looking computer chair nestled in the corner of a smallish, white room. It held a huge monitor with a fancy ergonomic keyboard. An expensive pair of noise-canceling headphones hung from the desk. The HR Giger hung on the back wall.

“Would you prefer a different desk?” Rafael’s hands landed lightly on my shoulders from behind.

“What?” No, it couldn’t be.

“You said you wanted a dedicated writing space. I want to help you realize your dreams. Even the small ones.”

A lump formed in my throat. “No, this is too generous. I can’t!”

His arms slid around me. “You can. It is the least I can do to make up for my extreme lapse in judgement the other night. I had already bought your computer and was going to put it beside mine, but I realized I could do more. I believe in your talent, Elaine.”

“But I don’t⁠—”

A tsk came from him. “Stop that. You deserve it.”

I turned into his embrace, burying my face in his chest so I wouldn’t get all emotional again. “Thank you.”

Rafael stroked my hair. “I put the Giger in here on a whim, but you are welcome to move it. Rearrange however you like.”