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Elena
That night, the sound of breaking glass and running water woke me from dancing dreams. The nightmare was persistent, and I had it most nights. In it, I was stepping out on the stage and about to dance. Too late, I realized that oil covered the wooden boards, and I was going to fall, but I couldn’t stop it. It left me sweaty and miserable. I hated being afraid, and now I feared dancing, scared of the pain of falling. I couldn’t work on that until I was back at my best and rehearsing again.
The running water sound came again, and I got up to investigate. Usually, Rafe’s apartment was quiet as a tomb at night. I saw a light illuminating the bathroom at the top of the hall, cutting through the darkness like a beacon. A trickle of nerves along my neck warned me against being too curious, and yet I started toward it. I couldn’t help myself.
Was Rafe hurt? The thought made my heart lurch. Somehow, this dangerous man had become so precious to me. I reached the door and pushed it slowly open.
I realized my mistake quickly.
The water had been running, and he’d just shut it off. The bathroom was hazy with steam, and the humid air brushed my skin like a kiss. Rafe’s white shirt from earlier lay on the floor, splattered with red.
Blood.
My immediate worry was that it was Rafe’s blood, but as he stepped from the shower stall and my eyes ran over his bare chest and arms, I couldn’t see where it had come from. Holy shit. He was naked.
He stopped, clearly surprised to find me standing in the steamy room, staring at him with eyes as big as saucers. My eyes dipped. I couldn’t help it. I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin, for god’s sake. Of course, my eyes dipped.
And he was delicious. Better than I’d imagined, and I’d imagined a lot, every night since we’d met.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, my voice husky.
His dark eyes were staring holes through me. He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, even as I struggled to meet that look. What was that? It looked like hunger. Like need. It made me feel warm and liquid in my belly.
“There’s blood on your shirt,” I pointed out, breathless now.
He stalked toward me, still bare-ass naked.“It’s not mine,” he said carelessly.
A chill went through me, even as I was relieved. Relieved that it was someone else’s blood on his shirt? Relieved that he had hurt another instead of being hurt? Yep, I was fucked up over this guy.
My eyes dripped lower again, running around the firm muscles on his chest and down his toned, tight abdomen to the treasure trail of hair that ran from his belly button downward.
He was hard.
I hadn’t been expecting that.
“Why not? Around you, Elena, I’m hard most of the time.”
Shit. Had I said that out loud? I wanted to sink into the floor and die of embarrassment. His hard-on was thick, aggressive, even, straining right up his belly, a full nine inches of veined arousal. Arousal for me?
“Angel, if you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to control myself.”
“I’ve never seen one before, in real life,” I admitted in a rush.
My face blazed scarlet, and I felt like an idiot as my words stopped his slow approach. He seemed sucker-punched by that confession.
He shook his head.“Elena, have mercy on me. There’s only so much a man can take,” he muttered cryptically.
He stepped forward again, bringing himself close enough to touch, and I forgot how to breathe. He was big and brawny, so warm I could feel the heat emanating from him. He could pick me up and toss me about, and I knew, in my heart, this man would never let me fall.
“Do you want to touch it, angel?” he asked in a low voice.
My eyes jerked to his, and shock and curiosity filled me to the brim. Hell yes, I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch him all over and learn what a man and woman did together alone. I wanted him to teach me. I longed to explore his body and bring him pleasure. I wanted to reduce him to a sweaty mess, like he did me, with only a look.
“Really? Isn’t that crossing that line between us?”
Rafe’s smile was pained.“Sweetheart, we are past that. Besides, there is no line between us, there is only the sheer force of will holding us apart, and I’m dangerously close to losing it,” he said quietly.
“Maybe I want you to lose it.” My heart was beating in my mouth. This was it. Rafe was telling me exactly what I’d wanted to hear… that he felt it too. I could have died happy at that moment.
