by L A Cotton
“What?” I asked.
He let out a small breath, reaching over to take my hand, sliding his fingers through mine. “I was going to say we could go to my room. But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
A feminine moan drifted through the walls and I cringed. “More uncomfortable than sitting here listening to my best friend... nope,” I shook my head, “not goin’ there.”
Laughter reverberated in Rafe’s chest as he stood up, pulling me with him. “Come on. I’ll keep my hands to myself, promise.”
I gave him a small nod, not trusting myself to speak. Worried I would say something I couldn’t take back. Because the truth was, I did want him to kiss me, to touch me, to feel his hands exploring my body.
But I was scared.
Fear lodged in my throat like jagged stones.
“This is it.” Rafe pushed open the door and hit a switch on the wall. Like the rest of the penthouse, it was extravagant, a suite within a suite. A huge four poster bed sat proud against the pale walls, drenched in pale green sheets. I walked toward it and ran my fingers over the silky material. “It’s beautiful,” I said.
It was so ostentatious, I felt small standing there.
“What’s wrong?” Rafe watched me from the door. He shouldn’t have fit in a place like this either, but somehow, he did. Maybe it was the fact I knew who he was. Or maybe it was because he was impossibly gorgeous. But Rafe belonged here.
And I didn’t.
“Do you always stay in the nicest hotels?”
“Usually it’s the tour bus.”
“Yeah, but when you’re not on tour? When you’re doin’ all the other stuff?” Interviews and appearances and impromptu performances. From what I’d seen online and read on Rock Review, the band never stopped working.
“You don’t like it, do you?” He moved closer, every step reverberating deep in my chest. Until he was right in front of me and my breath was caught in my throat.
“It’s just a lot to take in.”
“Most girls are impressed by all this.”
I blanched, offering him a sad smile. “I’m not most girls.”
“No, no you’re not.” Rafe ran the back of his knuckles down my cheek, his eyes fixed on mine. “Who are you, Evangeline Star Walker?” Intensity blazed in his gray eyes. “Because I have never wanted to know someone as much as I want to know you.”
“Let’s play a game,” the words came out before I knew what I was saying.
“What kind of game?” Rafe’s eyes twinkled.
“Not that kind of game.” I frowned, ducking around him to move to the love seat. He let out a low chuckle, dropping onto the edge of the bed.
“A question for a question.”
It was Rafe’s turn to frown.
“I’ll ask you a question,” I explained, “and if you answer, you get to ask me one.”
“I know the game, Eva. I just don’t understand why you want to play it.”
“Because our time is almost up, and I want to know everythin’ there is to know about to you.”
If he was surprised by my answer he didn’t let on. “Are there any rules?”
“You can choose not to answer a question, but you forfeit a turn asking one.”
“The floor is all yours.” He made a grand gesture of sweeping his arms wide.
“Okay, favorite city?”
“Chicago,” Rafe answered without even thinking.
“I’ve never been. Why do you like it so much?”
“That’s two questions.” He smirked.
“Humor me.”
“No way. Wait your turn. Okay... first kiss?”
Of course he would have to ask that question. But in the spirit of the game, I answered, “Jenson Blaufield in eighth grade.” Rafe’s lips thinned, and I added, “What?”
“Was he your boyfriend?”
“That’s two questions!”
“Humor me.” he teased.
“Next question... my turn. What was Rafe Hunter like as a child?”
“Really?” His brows furrowed. “You want to know this shit?”
“Humor me.” It was my turn to smirk.
“I was a quiet kid.” The strain in his voice got my attention. “I guess the kids at school would have called me a loner. Kept myself to myself. But I was loyal to a fault.”
“There’s only fourteen months between you and Levi?” A fact Molly had all too easily known.
Rafe gave me a pointed look, slowly shaking his head. “My turn. You go to church every Sunday like a good Southern girl?”
“I did, yes.”
“Did?” He sat straighter. “Give me one more question and you can have two in a row. No holds barred.”
“Rafe...”
“Come on, Eva, it’s your game.”
“Fine.” I let out an exasperated breath.
“What happened to you?”
The words echoed through my skull like a jackhammer.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
“Pass.”
“Come on, Eva. We’re sharing. Isn’t that the point of the game? I know something happened; I just want to know what.”
“Pass,” I repeated, my expression hardening.
“You don’t want to talk about it, I get it. But if you think avoiding the hard stuff makes it go away, it doesn’t.”
“What happened with Levi earlier before he sang with me?” I asked, deflecting the attention from me to him. “Why was he like that?”
“Not fair, Eva. Not fucking fair, and you know it.”
“So I have to bare my soul, but you won’t tell me anything about you? You’re right, doesn’t seem very fair, does it?” I was irate now, indignation burning through me.
“Eva, it’s not like that. But my relationship with Levi is—”
“Complicated. Yeah, you already told me that.”
A beat passed, and neither of us spoke.
But eventually Rafe broke the thick silence. “Come here.” He crooked his finger, offering me a small smile. “Please.”
Reluctantly, I got up and went to him, letting him slide my body between his parted legs, his hands resting on my hips. “I don’t want to fight. Not when time is against us.”
“I was sick.” The words twisted my insides.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Are you better now?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“It’s only been Levi and me for a long time. We’re all each other has, and I’m very protective of him. But he’s... it’s complicated.”
I was beginning to hate that word.
“Do you regret not goin’ with him, to the party?”
“He can survive one night without me, Eva. Besides, I wasn’t going to give up this. Not for anything.”
“What are we doin’, Rafe?”
He stared up at me. “Falling,” he whispered before pulling me onto his lap. His mouth crashed down on mine. Hard and unyielding. Our tongues tangled together, slow and searching, my heart pounding in my chest, building like a soft melody.
“You are so fucking beautiful.” Rafe cupped my face, kissing me harder, alternating the rhythm. Our lips, our tongues, and kisses playing us our own personal song.
My body hummed with nervous anticipation as my hands ran down the front of his tee, desperate to feel his skin. I found the hem, tugging gently to slip my fingers beneath the material. His body was lean, the smooth planes of his stomach giving way to subtly defined abs. I explored and explored, drifting my fingers up and down; pulling away with surprise when I felt the ring of metal through his nipple.
“Do you have any more piercings I should know about?” My brow rose.
“Maybe you should find out for yourself.” Rafe leaned back in, kissing me. Heat coursed through my veins, my stomach awash with desire.
“No,” he whispered against the shell of my ear, “just the two piercings.”
“And the tattoos?”
/>
“Why don’t you take a look?” He dropped back onto his elbows, staring up at me with a lazy smile.
Curious, I pushed the tee up his torso, running my eyes over his inked skin. There weren’t as many as his arm, but it was still impressive. Tracing them with my fingers, I asked, “Do they all mean somethin’?”
“Some mean more than others.” He shrugged. “Some just seemed like a good idea at the time.”
I brushed over the barbed heart over his chest. It was the band’s emblem. Their name inked inside a banner flowing across the bottom portion of the heart.
“How did the band start?”
“You really want to know?” I saw the question he wasn’t asking, in his eyes.
“This isn’t me... stoppin’ things,” I admitted, blushing deeply. “I just want to talk a little.”
He sat up, brushing my neck, placing a tender kiss there. “Well, if we’re going to talk, we might as well get comfortable.” Tapping my thigh, he nudged me up, and pulled his tee clean off. Then he started unbuttoning his jeans. I couldn’t move, transfixed on the way the tattoos seemed to come to life as his body flexed and tensed.
“Are you going to stand there all night?”
“What... I...” The words dried on my tongue as he closed the space between us. Rafe didn’t take his eyes off me as his hands found the hem of my tee.
I nodded, swallowing hard. Giving him the silent permission he was asking for. He tugged gently and my arms went up, letting him slide it over my head. His gaze moved down my body, hungry and heated, lingering on my scar. Silence echoed around us as Rafe reached out, letting his fingers flutter over the slightly raised skin. My eyes closed, my breath caught in my throat, as his touch washed over me.
“One day, Starshine, I’m going to know all of your secrets.” His other hand slid around my hip and pulled me flush against him. “Even the dark ones.”
He saw it.
Rafe saw the darkness inside me.
And the only explanation for it was that he’d experienced something similar. Maybe not an illness but some other life-altering, faith-testing incident.
Our lips met again, this time softer, as I let him push my jeans off my hips until they were pooled at my feet. “Come on.” Without another word, Rafe led me around to the side of the bed, yanking back the silky covers. “Get in.”
This was not what I had in mind when I followed Rafe to his room earlier, but it was even more perfect. Once we were both snuggled beneath the covers, Rafe’s arm around my shoulder, my head on his chest, fingers still exploring his tattoos, he finally started.
“When I ten, Levi got into some trouble. He was barely twelve, but he was so angry at the world. Still is, I think.” Rafe stroked my hair absentmindedly. “Anyway, the school signed him up for this music program. I’ll never forget the first day he came home. He was pissed. Everyone got assigned an instrument, but nothing had come easy to Levi. Anyway, at the second session the instructor asked Levi to try singing a few lyrics. Levi wasn’t interested. Said if he couldn’t play guitar or drums, he didn’t want to be in their stupid band.”
“What happened?”
“He turned up every week for two months and refused to sing. Then one day he came home grinning so wide, I felt for sure the instructor had finally let him play an instrument. But he’d done it. He’d finally sang. And not only did he sing, he blew everyone away with his voice.
“From that day on, he became obsessed. Said I had to pick an instrument and learn it so we could form a band. Little did he know that ever since he’d started the project, I’d been sneaking into the music room at school, fooling around on the guitars.”
“No,” I gasped, and Rafe chuckled.
“He was my big brother. My idol. I didn’t want him to become some huge star without me. I picked it up pretty quickly and then had lessons.”
“How did you meet Hudson and Damon?”
“Hudson was in the program with Levi. After it ended, neither of them wanted to stop practicing so the instructor agreed to let them use the center a couple nights a week. I started going along with them, and then one night, Damon strolled in, asked us what we were doing and hopped on the drum kit and blew us away. The rest, as they say, is history.”
I rolled onto my stomach to face Rafe. “You do realize you just told me a story without revealin’ any important details?” He’d told me the how but not the why.
Why was Levi in trouble?
Why was Hudson at the program?
Why was Damon at the center?
I felt like I was still missing all the vital pieces of the puzzle. The pieces which made them the band they were today.
Rafe gazed at me intently, his gray eyes searching my face. “I can’t remember the last time someone wanted to know all this stuff.”
“What do people usually want to know?” I moved slightly, hyperaware of how our legs brushed against each other’s.
“Am I single? How much money do I have in the bank? Will the band be releasing a new album anytime soon? The list goes on.”
“What does this one mean?” I traced a different tattoo, changing the subject.
“That,”—he traced the artistic razor inked along his ribs—“was a drunken mistake after one too many shots with the guys. We’d just been signed to Razorsharp Records and Damon managed to score us some liquor to celebrate. I was only sixteen at the time. One drink led to one more and before I knew it, I was in the chair being inked.”
“I can’t imagine what that must be like... being thrust into this world so young.”
“Eva?” His eyes darkened, homing in on my mouth.
“Yeah?” I breathed, a violent shiver running up my spine.
“It’s time to stop talking now.”
Rafe rolled me onto my back, hovering above me. “We go at your pace, okay?”
My heart skipped a beat at his words, my throat dry and skin tingling with nerves. Leaning down, he brushed my jaw with his fingers, fixing his mouth over mine. A soft moan slipped from my lips at his touch, the feel of the cool metal pressed against my flesh.
“Imagine me touching you, Eva; curling my finger inside you,” his dirty words were like a bolt of lightning through my chest and I involuntarily arched into him, wanting more.
Needing more.
“I don’t want to imagine,” I whispered. Rafe eased back to look at me, his gray eyes hooded, smile lazy with lust.
“Yeah?” he asked.
I nodded, finding his hand with mine and gently guiding it to my lower stomach. “Touch me, Rafe. I want you to touch me.” He needed the words, but I needed to say them too.
His hand splayed over my stomach as he kissed me harder, deeper. Then slowly he swept his hand down to my panties, dragging it over me, making me gasp. Rafe broke the kiss, watching me intently, as he dipped inside the damp material and worked a finger into me. My eyes fluttered closed, my breathing growing shallow as his thumb circled the sensitive bud of nerves. “Look at me, Starshine,” he rasped, “Give me your eyes.”
I opened them to find two pools of molten silver watching me as he worked me in slow, sensual strokes. My stomach coiled tight as waves of pleasure began to sweep over me. It started off gentle but quickly built into something powerful, crashing over me. Leaving me a breathless, quivering mess. But Rafe didn’t give me chance to catch my breath, sealing his mouth against mine, kissing me as if he might never get to kiss me again.
“I want you,” he whispered against my neck. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
My hands ran eagerly down his smooth inked body pausing at the waistband. “I want you too,” I said shakily.
His body tensed, his eyes questioning as he looked at me.
“I want you, Rafe. Please?”
“You’re sure? Because I meant what I said, Eva. I’ll only take what you’re willing to give me.”
“I want you,” I repeated with more conviction. “All of you.”
He dropped a kiss on my f
orehead before scrambling off the bed. I watched as he kicked off his black boxers before rummaging around in his jeans pocket. When he came back, he threw down the foil packet before kneeling between my legs. Slowly, Rafe inched my panties down until I was bare to him. Lust flashed in his eyes, making me feel beautiful.
Desired.
So alive I wanted to freeze-frame the moment.
He palmed himself a couple of times, and I watched transfixed on how comfortable he was in his own skin. How confident. His body was like a painted canvas, telling a story I hadn’t yet pieced together.
But I wanted to.
I wanted to know everything about the deep and mysterious and loyal Black Hearts bassist.
Grabbing the foil packet, Rafe tore it open with his teeth and slowly rolled it over his hard length. Then he covered my body, kissing me once. Twice. Dragging his tongue up the slope of my neck, making my stomach clench and my heart pound.
“You’re sure?” he asked, a trace of uncertainty in his words.
“I want you,” I said.
So much it scared me.
One of his hands slipped underneath my thigh, hooking my leg around his hip as he gently guided himself inside me. My body trembled as Rafe stretched me, filled me, but his kisses helped me relax.
“Fuck, Eva, you feel...” The words left him in a long drawn out breath, as he dropped his head to the crook of my shoulder, sucking the skin, rocking into me. Slow, sure, measured strokes. I felt him everywhere. His weight pressed down on me, making me feel so small and protected. His lips on my skin, tasting and marking. His fingers gripping the fleshy skin of my thigh, biting harder with every rock of his hips.
It wasn’t only physical though, it was emotional. The way he handled me with such tenderness, as if I was fragile and precious. Something he never wanted to hurt.
I felt myself spiraling. Giving over to the waves of pleasure. Letting myself fall further and further for him.
His free hand found mine, tangling our fingers together as he pressed it into the mattress, beside my head. “I’m not sure I can...” His jaw clenched and I knew he needed more.
Because I needed it too.
“It’s okay,” I breathed, hardly able to form words.