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Ashlyn squirmed. That was too close to saying ‘take advantage ofhim,’ only who was she kidding? Rafe Wilson wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of him. They’d both be getting what they wanted out of the deal Elise was proposing, but it still seemed so wrong to Ashlyn. Almost clinical.
She was quiet as they finished up their lunch. Despite Elise’s encouragement, she just didn’t know if she could go there. She’d never slept with someone she wasn’t in a long-term relationship with. How do you just flip a switch and sleep with someone because you’d made a deal with them? A deal for sex?
The rest of the day, her mind wasn’t as focused on teaching as it should have been. Instead, she warred with the idea of allowing herself the freedom to simply ask for what she wanted with Rafe as opposed to having utterly unsatisfying sexual experiences with the type of men she usually dated. To experience the kind of sex life she knew was possible, if only because she could see it in Elise’s eyes when she told her how happy she was with Kane. Of course, what Elise and Kane had was so much more than just sex, but Ashlyn couldn’t deny, she wanted to know what else was out there. She also had a feeling her insistence on the possibility of a white picket fence from every relationship was keeping her from having what she wanted.
Ashlyn cut herself a deal. She’d leave it up to the fates, or whatever ruled all of those superstitions Rafe practiced so religiously. If the Strikers won the game tonight, he didn’t need her and she didn’t need him. If the team lost, she’d know this arrangement was meant to be. She would go for it.
After she watched Rafe’s game fall apart again on the screen, she dialed Elise’s number.
“Hey, it’s me. Can I have Rafe’s phone number?”
Chapter Five
Ashlyn didn’t know where to begin. Rafe sat on her couch, legs stretched out in front of him, waiting. He wasn’t relaxed. In fact, she knew there was no way he could relax after the game he’d played tonight. When she’d called and asked him to come over, he’d come straight from the ballpark. And, now he sat watching her, waiting calmly as though he knew it would take a lot for her to work up the nerve to tell him what she wanted.
Ashlyn twisted her fingers together, trying to decide how to explain that she wanted more than a pregame kiss from him. That she wanted pregame sex. That she wanted to experience the kind of sexual freedom she read about in her romance novels. Without any conscious thought, her eyes flitted to the bookshelves lining her living room wall.
Rafe’s eyes followed hers to the shelf and she felt the flush of red creep over her neck, her cheeks.Oh no.Before she could stop him, he was on his feet, glancing at the spines, all of which contained the names of nothing but romance novels. No textbooks left over from her time in college, no travel books or biographies of famous people.
Rafe grinned at her over one of those gorgeously tempting shoulders of his, and then turned silently back to the shelf before pulling out a book.Oh, he didn’t.Of course he did.He pulled a ménage book. On the cover, a woman was ravished by three men, one burying his head in her chest, another holding her from behind as a third knelt in front of her, hands on her thighs.
Rafe turned and raised a brow at her.
“Fantasy of yours?”
She held her chin high and looked at him with eyes that dared him to continue mocking her.
“Some things are only a fantasy, Rafe.”
He nodded slowly, as if he was thinking something through before turning and swapping that book out for another one. This one was a bit more tame. One book in a series from one of her favorite authors. It was steamy and hot and racy, but a lot more sedate than the ménage book he’d first chosen. Rafe silently flipped through the pages, stopping to read a passage here and there.
“Now this I can help with,” he said, turning back to her, that wicked gaze seeming to melt her a little each time he turned it on her.
“Excuse me?”
“This,” Rafe gestured with the book and crossed back over to where she sat on the couch, “I can help you live out some of the dreams you’ve clearly been having.” He nodded to the shelf and then grinned at her. “I’m good at it. Very good.”
Laughter burst out again. “Well, you certainly don’t lack confidence, that’s for sure.”
Part of her was relieved he’d guessed about what she wanted without her having to broach the subject. Another part was just humiliated that he’d read her so easily, that he’d seen what she wanted so badly and hadn’t been able to explain. She was a grown woman, after all. Shouldn’t she be able to discuss her needs like an adult?
“Nope, confidence isn’t one of my issues,” he said with a small shake of his head. He turned the book toward her and pointed to a passage for her to read. “I can give you this, Ash. I can give you everything you’ve been wanting. If you help me before my games.”
Ashlyn forced her eyes to drop from his, down to the book, skimming the scene quickly. She was mortified to hear a small moan escape her lips before she bit down on them. Rafe had chosen a scene that involved blindfolds and silk ties on a four poster bed. Ashlyn was a confident woman in many ways. When she was teaching, she was confident. Dealing with her students’ parents? Confident. With friends? Confident.
But, she’d never felt comfortable asking any of the men she dated to experiment with her in the bedroom in this way. In fact, she hadn’t been comfortable simply expressing her most basic needs or wants in that department. And, she wasn’t stupid. She knew that was one of the reasons she was often left unsatisfied, but when it came to speaking up in bed, she just clammed up.
Talking about this kind of thing seemed to come a lot more easily to Rafe. Could she just let herself go with him? Just pretend she was someone she wasn’t? That she was someone brave and confident in bed? Could she let herself do this with him? For however long he wanted her to be a part of his ‘pregame routine’?
She glanced up to find Rafe watching her intently and the look in his eyes was shocking. It held wanting, lust, need—directed at her. Things she never thought she’d see in his eyes. Something she’d thought she would only find between the pages of her books. Of course, the wanting in her books eventually led to love, and she knew that wouldn’t happen here. But, maybe that was all right. Maybe Rafe could teach her how to get what she wanted in the bedroom. Maybe, before this ended and he walked away from her, she’d have found the confidence to tell her next lover what she wanted and needed. Then someday down the road, she could find love with the right man, someone who wanted the white picket fence and wantedher, passionately and intently.
“What if this messes with the pregame kiss?” she asked. “I mean the thing that worked was a kiss, not—you know.”
“Not sex?” he asked and she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes at her inability to even voice the word. She wanted to kick herself as the flush of heat hit her cheeks again. Why couldn’t she just say the word?
“I mean it’s always the same socks, or the same shirt, or whatever you have to do before each game. Won’t messing with what we did screw things up for your games?”
Rafe looked at her and she could tell he was analyzing what she said, and then he shook his head. “It won’t mess with anything. If a kiss is good, sex should be better. More is always better, right?” His grin was back and with it, the heat in his gaze.
