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Kayla was tugging him back through the bar, down a dimly lit hallway, around a corner and through a door marked “private” to a stairwell that led to her upstairs apartment. Before the door to the bar even closed behind them, she turned, giving him those gorgeous sea glass green eyes again.
“I know it’s been a year, and this is crazy… but I can’t wait.”
Jesus, neither could he. Catching her by the back of the neck, he pulled her in, taking the kiss she’d been about to offer. And fuck, her mouth was perfect. Sweet and wet and open beneath the thrust of his tongue. Because yeah, he’d had to taste her, claim her…have her.
Had to.
Those sweet wandering hands of hers were coasting over his chest, balling in his shirt and then restlessly moving on. Like somehow no matter what she touched, how much she took it wasn’t enough. Or at least, that’s the way it was for him.
He wanted her every soft curve, every secret place.
And when she gave up that first fragile moan…he wanted all the rest of her sounds too. The gasps and cries and—shit, he shouldn’t be thinking about making her scream his name, but yeah, he wanted that too.
Kayla was pulling at the fabric of his shirt with one hand, and his belt with the other.
He’d been worried she wouldn’t remember him.
Fuck, that unfounded concern might have made him laugh if he wasn’t burning up from the feel of her soft breasts pillowed against his chest and the urgent crush of a kiss about to blaze out of control.
Her arms tightened around his neck, her knee sliding up his side as he rocked into her hips.
“Oh god,” she gasped, moving to meet him as he did it again. “Rafe, please.”
There was nothing tentative about her plea or the way she was practically crawling up his body. He had to have her.
Beneath the swing of her short skirt, he cupped the globe of her ass and pulled her hips forward to meet him. He wanted her, couldn’t remember a time he’d ever wanted a woman more.
Breaking away, Rafe nodded toward the stairs. “Your apartment?”
She shook her head. “No. My brother’s up there.”
Her brother. The man at the window.
Right. He hadn’t even thought about her brother, hell he hadn’t thought about anything more than the way she was looking at him since he’d walked through the door.
“I haven’t moved into my apartment yet,” he said. “I’ve got to pick up the key, but we could go there.” He could take her to a hotel, to his car, anywhere—so long as he could be alone with her.
“Too far, too long,” she gasped, delving her fingers into his hair to pull his mouth back to hers.
“Baby,” he groaned against her parted lips. “If we don’t stop, I’m not—”
“Don’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”
This time when he pulled back, he stared straight into her eyes, needing to know if what he was hearing was right. “What are you saying?”
“That I wished we’d done this a year ago.”
He moved his hands over the backs of her thighs, his fingertips tracing the tops of her stockings. His thumbs stroked the soft flesh above them until they grazed the warm, wet strip of her panties, and a shudder ran through her.
She wet her lips, going on, “That I don’t think I can wait a minute more.”
He’d driven a thousand miles to get to her…neither could he.
Rafe grasped her ass and hoisted her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and looked pleadingly into his eyes. He braced her against the wall, rocking into the cradle of her thighs as he kissed her long and deep. Let the need rise between them until they were both breathless and fumbling with their clothes.
Belt…panties…fly…condom…
None of it could happen fast enough.
