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His compliance is so soft, so intense, that I’m instantly breathless. Suddenly needing air that isn’t thick with Raphael Visconti charm, I burst through the side door and out to the deck.
Slow, heavy footsteps follow me to the bow. Gripping the railing, I tilt my head to the ink-black horizon, not caring that the wind is undoing all the hours of work I spent putting rollers in my hair.
My skin prickles with awareness when a silhouette interrupts the glow of the security lamp above me and Rafe’s jacket slides over my shoulders. His hands come either side of me, his lips skimming behind my ear.
“Nice song,” he murmurs, raising a thousand goosebumps along my arms. “Were you trying to hypnotize me?”
I smile into the darkness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about; it’s the only song I know all the lyrics to.” My attention drops to his hand next to mine. Big and busted to my small and smooth. A sick thrill sweeps through me when I remember his hands didn’t used to look like that; every scar is fresh and belongs to me. Skimming my pinky over his bruised knuckle, I add, “Unless it worked?”
He shakes off my light touch and spins me around so my back is pressed against the railing. It’s a stark contrast: the warmth radiating off his body and the icy wind lashing my back. Each feels as dangerous as the other.
Sliding his hands over the lapels of his jacket, he pulls me even deeper into his orbit. Steals my next breath with a brush of his nose against mine.
“It really would be the perfect night to kiss you,” he whispers.
Fuck.
All of my senses sharpen, aside from common sense. I’m suddenly aware of the rhythmic sound the ocean makes when it slaps against the hull. How handsome Rafe looks under the romantic glow of the security light. Wren’s sweet rendition of ABBA’sLay All Your Love on Medrifts through the glass and grazes my ears.
This is how it’d happen in a film.
Then when this was all over, I’d have to torture myself with the replay forever.
I let out a tense breath and close up my heart. “Nah. I already told you; I want rain. Like inThe Notebook.”
A soft laugh escapes him. “I’ll bear that in mind when you write me a check.”
He glances quickly down the deck, then, biting down on his bottom lip, he skims a large hand up the inner seam of my thigh. Christ, his palm sizzles like rain on a hot roof in the height of summer, burning a hole into my lower stomach. When he pushes my thong aside and dips two thick fingers into me, my moan is one of relief.
Sexual tension has tethered me to him all night. Every time his velvet laugh has chafed the back of my neck, every time I’ve been trapped by his wink over the rim of a crystal tumbler, my blood has heated another degree. I don’t know how I’ve gone four hours now without fucking this man.
His stare darkens at my reaction. “But I suppose for now,theselips will have to do.”
Despite rising on my tip-toes to chase his touch, my tone is defiant. “Not yours,” I whisper.
Annoyance threads through his features, just like it does every time we fuck and I scramble enough semblance together to tell him this.
Eyes narrowing, he skims his middle finger over my entrance, then further south. “Then what about this?”
I yelp as he pushes into the entrance of my ass, falling into him. He catches me, his laugh against my chest tightening my nipples.
We’re so close now, his scent consumes me like a drug. I rub my face over his neck, desperate for more of it. All of it.
“It’ll cost you,” I murmur half-heartedly against his pulse.
“I’ll pay it,” he mutters back, resting his chin on the crown of my head. His tone is so simple I know he’s no longer joking.
We stay like this for a while, his jacket warming my shoulders and the rise and fall of his chest lulling me into lethargy.
I sigh against his top button. I’m guarded, but I’m not naive. I know I’m obsessed with this man. He makes me want to do stupid shit, like tell him so. Or even tell everyone else by yelling it from the bow like Jack yellsI’m the king of the world!in the Titanic.
That’d be pretty embarrassing, though, so I’d settle for staying here forever in his strong arms, the hum of a good time barely touching us. Although, when the thought offorevercomes to mind, it slides down my throat and tightens there like a noose.
There’s no such thing. Even if there was, it’s not made for us, but it’s hard to remember that when his eyes find mine across a packed room. When he puts his hands over my ears during a thunderstorm. When he spends an hour massaging me after he ruins me.
“Tell me why you think I’m unlucky,” I blurt out.Convince me this can’t be forever.
His stomach tenses against mine. “You already know why.”
