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I had no luck, that much was clear. I gravitated toward danger, and I had no idea why.
My ears rang as I squeezed my eyes closed, so much so that I didn’t hear the footsteps until they were right outside the door and someone was knocking. I sucked in a breath, hoping that if I was really quiet, whoever it was would go away until I’d gotten myself under control.
“Peyton?” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know you’re in there. Open up.”
I pressed my head to the door, relishing in the coolness against my skin. “Go away.”
“Nope.” I felt and heard a small thud as the handle moved. “I can pick the lock in the time it would take for you to count to ten.” He paused, and I hated how my lips lifted into a small smile. “Your choice, mama, but I’m getting in there to you either way.”
Shaking my head, I pulled in a calming breath. They still weren’t normal, but they were better than they were, and when I opened my eyes, the room wasn’t spinning anymore. Although, my hands were still shaking.
“Five.”
I took a step back, then another, and another as he counted down to one, and sure enough, with his last number, the lock turned and he opened the door.
“Told you.” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
I folded my arms over my chest, not missing the way his gaze dipped to my cleavage. I hadn’t done it on purpose, but now I couldn’t move them because he’d know that I’d noticed. “What are you doing, Raf?”
He locked the door behind him, then stalked over to me like a predator does with his prey. “Came to check on you.” I opened my mouth, but he continued, “I saw that you were upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
He pursed his lips, clearly not happy with my words. “Can’t lie to me, mama. I see everything in those eyes of yours—windows to the soul, that’s what the flowery writers call them, right?”
I couldn’t help but snort. “Flowery writers?”
He shrugged, tilting his head to the side as he continued to advance toward me. I don’t know what made me back away a step, but I did. “You tryin’ to get away from me?” My breath caught in my throat. “You scared of what I’ll do to you?” His voice was lower now, enticing me in all the ways I shouldn’t have wanted it to but craved.
“That depends,” I whispered, my back hitting the wall, the coldness from the tile shocking me as it blasted the bare skin of my shoulders. “What do you plan on doing?”
His tongue traced his lips as he looked me up and down, taking me all in. I wasn’t wearing anything special—just a dress that ended mid-calf and tied around my waist, along with some wedges. My hair wasn’t curly, but not straight either, it was in that weird in-between stage.
“My plan,” he started, taking two more steps toward me, then stopping inches away. “Is to finish what I started three days ago.” He placed his arm on the wall above my head, blocking me in.
“Is that right?” I asked.
“Yeah, mama.” His thumb swiped along my bottom lip, pulling on it. “That’s right.”
I swallowed, my breathing picking up for an entirely new reason this time. “What else?”
His dark eyes lit with fire, his enjoyment clear to feel as he pressed his hips into my stomach. Even though I had wedges on, I was still too short, and as if he’d read my mind, he dipped down, moving his head into my neck as he whispered, “I’m gonna touch you.” His breath fanned over my ear, followed with a kiss, then another, trailing down my neck. “Everywhere and anywhere.”
“Fuck, Raf,” I moaned, giving him better access to my neck. I couldn’t explain what his words did to me, how they made me feel, but my body loved every second of it.
“You want that, Peyton?” he asked, lifting his head from the crook of my neck so he could look right at me. “You want me to touch you?”
I nodded, scared that I’d mess up the words coming out of my mouth if I tried to vocalize it.
“Words, mama, I need those words.” His thumb gripped on to my chin, keeping me in place as he lowered to his knees in front of me. “Tell me what you want.”
My chest nearly caved as his hands trailed down my waist, over my hips, and all the way to my ankles. He gripped each one of them, staring up at me with eyes that I swore invaded the deepest parts of my mind.
“Touch me,” I begged. “Please. Touch me.”
“Where?” he whispered as his hand trailed up my leg, stopping on my thigh. “Here?”
“Higher,” I panted, barely able to contain myself. Raf was a distraction, I knew that; he knew that, but it was one that I desperately needed.
