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I can pinpoint its source immediately. The warm, masculine scent that lingers within the four walls of the G-Wagon. After making the mistake of spraying it on myself last Monday, I spent an hour in the shower scrubbing it off, and I really don’t want to be intoxicated by it again. It smells like danger, and I don’t like the heat it spreads in certain parts of me.
My unease only heightens when Raphael slides into the driver’s seat. He stares straight ahead in silence, but the anger rolling off his inked skin roars. I push up against the cold window in an attempt to get away from it.
“Seat belt.”
It’s all he says before shifting the car into gear and tearing off through the rain.
You know, perhaps I should have taken my chances and run. Now that I’m sitting here with the throb of his hand around my neck, it feels like it would have been the safer option.
Instead, I clutch onto the book in my lap and focus on the wipers working overtime.
A Christmas song crackles on the radio, barely audible. My hair drips onto the armrest in rhythmic plops. In my peripheral vision, I see Raphael’s irritated gaze fall to the small puddle I’ve created.
“These seats are Nappa leather.”
“And my sweater is cotton.”
“What?”
I hitch a shoulder. Glare at the glow of fragmented headlights through the windshield. “Thought we were naming fabrics no one gives a shit about.”
A beat passes, then he huffs out a dark laugh and shakes his head. A few more of my heartbeats thump before his voice touches my skin again. This time, it has a calmer undercurrent.
“Seriously, Penelope. Don’t walk the streets alone at night. Pretty girls don’t always get to see the next day.”
I blink, completely ignoring his safety message in favor of indulging the light thrill creeping under my skin “Did you just call me pretty?”
His jaw ticks. “You know you’re pretty.”
“I do?”
He has my full attention now. I stare down at his knuckles tight on the steering wheel, and the way his grip makes the King of Diamonds on his forearm flex squeezes my lungs.
“Of course you do. You wouldn’t be prancing around in your panties trying to tease me if you didn’t,” he mutters bitterly.
Despite the unfortunate circumstances I’ve found myself in, I can’t stop the hot triumphlicking the walls of my heart.
I curl my fingers around the plastic edge of my book and feign nonchalance.
“You barely looked.”
“Because I’m a gentleman, Penelope.”
My gaze falls down his chest. His shirt is soaked through and I can just about see the dark shadows under its expensive fabric. A chink in his bespoke armor, and I’m breathless at the mere idea of what’s underneath.
The car slows. Confused, I look up and find myself trapped in Raphael’s intense gaze. “Would you have wanted me to look?”
“I—what?”
He licks his lips, a new wave of darkness to his expression. “You said I barely looked,” he says quietly. “Would you have wanted me to look?”
A shiver rolls through me, slowing my next breath. The goosebumps rising on the back of my neck have nothing to do with getting caught in the rain and everything to do with the hot, heavy expectation swirling inside the four walls of the car. It soaks into my skin, permeating my lungs and making it harder to feign indifference.
I settle with changing the subject. It feels safer.
“How did you know where to find me?”
A few seconds pass, before Raphael’s gaze stops burning my cheek, and the car engine purrs under my ass again.
