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“Stay the fuck away from my house,” Rafe said. “And from Donni. Don’t look at her. Don’t touch her. This is the only warning you’re going to get. Do you understand?”
Christophe brought his head down on a whimpering sob and Rafe let him fall to his knees.
“Good.”
???????
Donni woke to the sound of barking. Dazed at first, she quickly shot up after a quick look at the clock. It was nearly 2am and pouring rain. The violent spatter of it drummed against the window.The witching hour, she thought.
Moving quietly, she crept to the window, staying low at the sound of car doors slamming. For a moment, she couldn’t make out much in the gloom. But then she recognized the silhouette of the car parked out front. It was Rafe’s Prius. And coming out of it was Rafe himself.
He stalked to the front door, wearing different clothes than the ones she’d given him to wear. He had his suitcase and backpack, too, and as he walked under the porchlight she caught the gleam of metal around his neck. Where would he be going at 2am? And why was he walking like he was angry?
She went to her bedroom door and opened it, just in time to hear him crossing from the foyer to the main hall. But he didn’t go to his room. Instead, she heard his footsteps cross through the house to the living room. She headed for the stairs and heard the click of the lock on the sliding glass doors. The floodlights turned on, making the glass and acrylic furniture glow.
What the fuck is he doing?
His rain-soaked clothes were in a pile by the door. He was in the hot tub, magnificently naked, staring unseeingly into her backyard. Water had matted the hair on his chest and made the skin of his arms and shoulders gleam under the lights. His other hand was moving beneath the frothing water, brisk with purpose and ill-concealed fury.
His head fell back as he touched himself, causing rainwater to pool at the base of his throat. She could imagine what it would be like to go out to him. How the water would cause her sleep shirt to cling to her body, and how his mouth would trace the shapes of her curves through the damp cotton before pulling it over her head and pressing his lips to wet, night-chilled skin. She could imagine the erotic shock of the chill and heat, the sharp pinch of entry made smooth by pleasure. She could imagine all of that, and it terrified her because of how badly she wanted it.
He opened his eyes and saw her looking. She nearly ran, but the dream-like quality of the moment tempered her fear and kept her rooted to the spot.
If he had lunged for her, she would have run for it. She was ready to. But he remained still, watching in silence as she opened the door. She noticed, however, that his hand stopped moving.
The rain soaked into her clothes, her hair. Within a few seconds, her shirt was plastered to her body, nearly transparent. She saw his eyes flick over her body, but still, he didn’t move.
“What are you doing out here?”
The faint look of surprise left his face, replaced by something darker and more intense. A small smile curved his lips as he leaned back. “Waiting for you.”
An icy wind curled against her, raising goosebumps. She shivered and walked closer on shaking legs. When she stepped into the bubbling water, he gripped her by her thighs, yanking her down on top of him with such force that she very nearly felt bruised. His thighs were hairy, the texture rougher than hers, and the light abrasion of the damp thatch of curls covering his sex caused tiny flickers of discomfort as he rocked into her softer parts.
He picked up her hands by the wrists and laid them on his face. Despite the lash of the cold on her damp skin, his was feverishly warm. “Your hands are like ice.” She felt the flex of his jaw muscles against her palms. “How long were you standing there?”
“I don’t want you to talk,” she said. “I want you to fuck me.”
His smile disappeared. “You’re shaking.”
“Fuck me,” she repeated. “Do it like your books. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
His eyes seemed to glow in the reflection of the pool. What was he thinking, looking at her like that? His father had never been this guarded.
Unable to bear his study, she closed what distance remained between them, molding her body against his at the sudden crush of his lips. She felt him sigh, and his hands slid from her wrists to rest at her waist. “So after two weeks and nine hundred pages, you think you’ve got me all figured out. Is that it?”
“You said you wanted astellarperformance from me.” She ground her hips against him and felt his breathing cut out. “Did you plan on talking through it?”
“All right,” he said, his tone grim. “No more talking.”
Donni gripped the back of his neck as he slid her underwear down her thighs, rolling it down the backs of her legs in a damp coil of fabric. She got to her knees to let him pull them off completely and he tossed them away with a growl, covering her mouth with his as his cock slid inside her so roughly that it would have hurt if she didn’t want it.
He tore her shirt off next, and a little gasp escaped her as the cold air hit her skin. Then he drew her arms behind her back and did everything else she had imagined, as the rain steamed around them and the entire backyard seemed to melt away along with what remained of her inhibitions. For all she knew or cared, it could have been a dream.
At least a dream couldn’t break your fucking heart.
SHADOW SELF
MOVIE REVIEW:SILENT TO THE GRAVE
