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“Got you, didn’t I?” I tease, ducking out under his arm.
“You little rebel,” he chuckles, trying to grab my hand, but I’m much faster until I slip and lose my balance, yelling as I stumble.
He grunts and catches me before my head makes contact with the floor tiles. “Fuck, kid, how many times do I need to save you?” A low chuckle comes out of him while he stares at me.
My gaze flicks to his mouth, then up into those blue depths. I want to sayfor the rest of my life, my cheeks heating instantly while I swallow back the words. This is too fast, way too soon. The ache between my legs and my erect nipples say something different, though. What happened between us didn’t feel like a one-night stand. It felt like it could be the beginning of something.
“Rafe,” I start, wanting to tell him all my secrets. Instead, my stomach rumbles, and we both look up when the dogs come running into the bathroom, expectantly looking between us.
Locking eyes with me, he rasps, “You know, I would catch you, babe, every damn time,” so low I barely hear it. “Let’s have breakfast first. We have the whole day before I decide to have you for dessert,” he says louder, waggling his eyebrows as he pets both dogs.
I nod, suddenly self-conscious.
“You okay?” he mutters thickly, towering over me with a possessive look in his eyes while he hands me a towel.
“I am, I just—” I stop talking, not knowing what to say.
He runs his hand through my hair, not tearing his attention away from my eyes although my breasts are on full display.
“You don’t have to be shy around me. But I do like how those cheeks heat when I look at you a certain way,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose. He lets go of my waist and dries himself before hoisting up his boxers, adjusting his semi.
“I’ll remember that.” I grin.
He winks, handing me a shirt. I quickly pull it over my head before my eyes land on his bulge.
“And stop giving my dick more ideas, Storm,” he teases, while I follow him down the hall to the kitchen.
Staring at his tight ass, I start to giggle. The man makes me feel safe and wanted at the same time. There is a rawness to him he can’t hide, layers I still have to uncover. The way his hand landed on my throat, cutting off the oxygen to my brain, should make me want to run for the hills. Instead, it only draws me closer to him.
I stare at the scars on his ribcage and think about him yelling out in pain while he slept. Rafe isn’t broken like he said, he’s hurting, and I want nothing more than to help him glue the pieces he lost along the way back together. The muscles in his broad back and arms flex as he rolls his shoulders, his back tattoo moving with each defined muscle. Every time I look at him, I feel like he’s tearing down his walls brick by brick. I’ve never felt truly safe with anyone, but with him, I feel I can be myself.
“I like giving you ideas,” I say as he looks over his shoulder, trying to make light of the intense feelings occupying my heart. “Your dick, I mean,” I joke, quirking up one brow.
He squints his eyes, the slow smirk spreading across his handsome face telling me he likes this little back and forth. “I like your sassy mouth,” he murmurs and winks.
Holding his shirt against my nose, the familiar smell of him fills my senses. Smiling, I lean against the doorframe, watching him grab some stuff from the fridge.
“There is dog food in that cupboard,” he says, motioning with his chin. I’m glad he doesn’t know how much my heart hammers in my ears. How my pussy clenches for his touch, how wet he makes me, standing there with those black boxers straining over his tight ass. He turns around, and I get an eyeful of his bulge pressing upward against the cotton.
“Kid? The animals,” he asks, his eyes sparkling.
Heat creeps up my neck. I need to get my mind out of the gutter. “You guys want food?” I ask the dogs. Betty and Jack sit next to each other, watching me while I fill two bowls for them. “What kind of breed is your dog?”
“He’s a wolfdog,” he explains, mixing some batter in a bowl. I place their meals in front of them, and they dig in. “Betty likes him,” I say, climbing up on the kitchen counter, dangling my feet and kicking them back and forth in front of me.
“That makes two of us.” He stares at me for a second, a half-smile touching his lips.Does he feel the same as I do?
“You like pancakes?” he asks, changing the subject.
I nod, loving he’s going to cook for me. Usually, I eat some yogurt with granola in the van. I cringe. I totally forgot about my house on wheels and my phone that’s probably blowing up safely locked inside, where I intend to let it stay a little longer. I don’t want to get out of this bubble, because leaving here means I won’t see him again, and I don’t know if my heart can take it. I run both hands through my hair. I know I need to tell him the truth, but I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to scare him away, although I highly doubt if the man ever gets afraid.
Lighting the stove, he hands me a coffee and watches me intently as our fingers skim each other. “You okay? You’re as pale as a ghost.”
“Just a little sore, I guess,” I say, squirming on the marble.
His lips curl up at the sides. “Same here.” He winks. “So, are you in school or what?” he asks, resting his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
I laugh by how quick he changes the subject and turns back to the stove. “Yes,” I say, watching him flip the pancakes. A tightness takes hold of my chest. He fucked me in almost every possible way and doesn’t know anything about me. Why hasn’t he asked more? “Second year,” I continue, “I don’t know if school is really where I belong. I spend each weekend on the road, driving to National Parks with Betty, exploring, following the light.”
