Rafe (Devil's Flame MC Book 1)

by Romi Hart

  Kira couldn’t help but grin. “I like your style.”

  “Get on. I’m starving,” he demanded, not acknowledging her words. As he cranked the engine, she climbed on the back, circling her arms around him with the same tingling sensation coursing through her as last night. There was something irresistible about Rafe Chambers, and she wished she knew what it was. Then, maybe she could shield herself from it and stop feeling so ridiculously aroused and out of control around him.

  Kira tried to focus on the joy of the ride and the scenery that streaked by, but she couldn’t get her mind off the way his abs clenched under her hands or how delicious it felt to have her breasts pressed against Rafe’s back. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the soft leather of his cut, working to curb her desire. She was almost relieved when he came to a stop, until she opened her eyes and saw where he’d taken her.

  The engine cut, and she asked, “Is this where you live?”

  “It’s not much, but it’s home,” he said.

  It was modest in size, but it was a gorgeous house in an upscale neighborhood. The crepe myrtles in front of the windows were perfectly trimmed, the lawn was manicured, and the gray brick home was a modern style with some classic details, including the white shutters and the heavy oak door. The trim was all white and charcoal, and Kira tried to match this house to the man who owned it. “This is amazing, Rafe.”

  He didn’t reply as they dismounted, simply striding toward the door and unlocking it, as if he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. And really, since she had failed to pay attention to how they got here, where would she go? Kira followed him inside and marveled at the décor. It was sparsely furnished but with tasteful, clean lines, and rather than having bare walls, Rafe had interesting artwork ranging from landscapes to abstract work hanging in the entry, the living room, and the formal dining room she passed on the way through to the kitchen.

  The kitchen itself was state of the art, with appliances that would have excited Wolfgang Puck, and the island countertop was a beautifully stained butcher block. “Why did you bring me here?” she asked suddenly, wondering why a man who seemed to want to pull away from her, who needed her as a means to an end, would invite her into his personal space.

  “I have food here,” he said simply. “I also have a shower you can use and some clothes you can wear. Wait here.” He left her standing next to the stools at the island, as if he trusted her not to grab one of the large butcher knives from the display, or make a break for it. And for some reason, Kira had no desire to do either.

  When he returned, he carried a large trunk that looked like it weighed at least 200 pounds, though he barely seemed to notice the weight. He set it on the floor at her feet and opened it. “Take what you need.”

  Kira pulled out a black silk shirt, a purple tank top, and a pair of jeans, eyeing them suspiciously. They were all approximately her size, and out of nowhere, a wave of jealousy erupted from her. “You think I want to wear your old girlfriend’s shit?” she barked at him, anger making her glare.

  Something flashed through his eyes too fast for her to analyze it, and then he turned to the refrigerator, yanking out eggs and bacon. “They’re my sister’s clothes. Like I said, take what you want. The bathroom is down the hall, second door on the left. There’s a hairbrush in the bedroom, first door on the left, if you need it.” He didn’t turn back around, and Kira stared at the clothes in her hands. A sister?

  She had so many questions. Why did he have a trunk full of his sister’s clothes he was ready to give away? Where was this sister, and why did he get so upset when she’d misunderstood where the clothes came from? But she didn’t think it would be wise to ask. It seemed to be a source of contention, and she didn’t want to dig too deep.

  Even if she grew more and more curious about a man who had a luxury spa tub and a rain shower enclosed in glass, with black marble everywhere in his bathroom.

  By the time she was showered and dressed, with her hair finger combed, Kira could smell the bacon even through the incredible scent of the peach shower gel and coconut shampoo she’d used as it wafted through the bathroom door she’d just opened. She padded into the kitchen, finding a plate ready for her on the island, and he gestured toward the coffee pot. “I’ve got coffee and orange juice. Take your pick.”

  She grabbed the mug next to the pot, poured herself some of the dark brew, and took a seat. She ate quietly for a moment, studying Rafe as he sat across from her and did the same. His mind was elsewhere, and the line between his eyes told Kira he was deep in thought. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Let me help you.”

  He glanced up at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Rafe, whatever you have against my brother, I can help you draw him out and set things right.” She didn’t know why she wanted so badly to help him, but she felt like she needed to. And this time, it had nothing to do with how it would benefit her. How she would be able to feel like she’d gotten her revenge. It was only the sadness in his eyes and the determination in his expression that made her want to help him.

  He scoffed. “Right. You want to help me get your brother to come out of hiding so I can kill him. That’s rich, Kira.”

  “I’m serious,” she pressed on adamantly. “I hate him. I don’t know what he did to you, but I promise you, he has no redeeming qualities. You saw, he’s so overprotective of me, so worried about my honor, he couldn’t even bother to come for me himself today. What do I owe him?” She put her fork down and leaned her elbows on the island, waiting until Rafe met her gaze. “Do you realize that, even being my captor, you’ve been kinder to me than he is?”

  That admission didn’t go as she’d planned and actually seemed to backfire as Rafe’s jaw muscle began to twitch. “That’s because, whatever you might think of me, I’m a decent human being. Jake Hawthorne is not.” He shook his head and went back to eating, muttering between bites, “I told you last night I could be a gentleman when I wanted to be. I have nothing against you.”

  “Then let me help you,” she insisted. “I can be more than bait. I can set him up. I can get aggressive and goad him into action. There’s a lot I can do, if you’ll just let me.”

  Slamming his fork down and standing up so fast his stool fell over with a clatter, Rafe threw his arms in the air. “And have you screw this up? Come on, Kira, what could be so horrible that makes you hate him so much? Why would I trust you to take my side over his?”

  Kira stared at him, weighing her options. She could tell him the truth, could tell Rafe why she hated Jake so much. She could explain why she wanted to deny being related to that cold, calculating son of a bitch. She could tell the story of his betrayal, but Rafe refused to share anything about his own history with Jake. And Kira wasn’t inclined to give information without something in return.

  Rafe didn’t trust her. And while she could reason that out and make sense of it, her emotions took it personally. If he couldn’t trust her enough to share his pain with her, why should she offer hers up to him on a silver platter? For that matter, why was she so ready to help him take down her brother, when she didn’t even know what Jake had done to earn it?

  Indignant, she stood and drew up to her full height. It was nothing compared to Rafe, who loomed over her like some Greek Titan, but she still squared her shoulders. “You know what, Rafe? I have thrown myself at you, and I’ve offered my assistance. You haven’t given me shit in return, no acknowledgement and no good faith trust. You brought me to your house, didn’t even bother to tie me up, and here I am, still with you. You left me alone in your kitchen, which is full of weapons, so you must have some intuitive instinct that tells you I’m not out to get you. But you refuse to admit it to yourself. So, when you decide to trust me with your truth, I’ll trust you with mine.”

  He smirked, his eyes smoldering. “So, you’ll trust me with your body but nothing else?” he asked, his chest heaving.

  Kira swallowed, wishing her own desire wasn’t right there on th
e surface. The way her body reacted, with moisture already building between her thighs without any sort of invitation, he could probably smell her arousal already. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Rafe lunged, capturing her lips as his body had her falling back against the counter. Kira didn’t care, her need too great for her mind to process the discomfort of marble cutting into her back. She fisted her hands in his hair, holding him to her and devouring his mouth. The blend of salt and coffee and his subtle musk was so overwhelming she groaned into him, and he grunted, thrusting his hips forward so she could feel the rock hard erection already pulsing in his pants.

  Her breasts were heavy with her arousal, her nipples hard and rubbing against the silk of the shirt, with no bra to hold them back, and Rafe must have noticed, his hands cupping them and squeezing delightfully. Kira released her hold on his hair, pulled back from the kiss, and reached for his fly. She was desperate, and when she freed him, she stroked his cock fast and hard. She knew if she didn’t fan the flames, they would die before she got what she needed, and she wasn’t about to let Rafe back out this time.

  Yanking her away from the counter, he shoved at her jeans till she could peel them off with her bare feet, and he nearly snapped three buttons off the shirt as he fumbled with them. Then, he spun her around and bent her over the counter, making her gasp as the cold marble hit her stomach. But the warmth of his hands as his arms came around her to grab her breasts captured her attention, and she moaned.

  “You ready for this?” he asked, his words garbled with his desire, and she nodded, not trusting her own voice. She felt his tip slide along her wet folds before he found her core and thrust deep, making her cry out with pleasure on the edge of pain. “Oh, hell,” he groaned, and she felt a shudder go through his body. “This isn’t going to last long,” he warned.

  “I don’t care, Rafe,” she muttered as he molded her breasts in his hands. She pushed her hips back against him, taking him in another inch. “You want this as bad as I do. Don’t hold back.”

  And he didn’t. With her affirmation, he found a demanding pace, thrusting in and out with a fervor that had Kira hitting a peak and staying on it, her body writhing and shivering with the release that seemed to pulse through her, over and over as he filled her, shoving so deep she thought she might come apart completely. It felt so good, and she hadn’t known anyone could reach those depths.

  And the grunting sounds he made were so satisfying, it only drove her higher to know he felt the same ecstasy she did, as he plowed into her. When he stuttered and drove into her with a roar of completion, Kira nearly went blind with a new shockwave that washed over her. Had Rafe not had her pinned to the counter with his body, she would have slid to the floor, every bone in her body suddenly liquefying and refusing to hold her up.

  As he recovered, Rafe drew his hands around her and ran them up and down her back, tickling and tingling, and then he cupped her ass and squeezed before pulling out. Kira felt the absence immediately, a chill coming over her and her heavy limbs not cooperating as she tried to stand. It was Rafe’s hands that lifted her and moved her to the stool so she could gather her wits about her. With a half grin, he handed her the clothes he’d torn off her. “Sorry about that,” he grunted.

  “Please, don’t apologize.” Her words were slightly slurred with the aftermath and the glow she felt from her release. And she couldn’t help admiring him as he pulled his jeans up and tucked his cock back inside. “Unless it wasn’t good for you,” she added, quirking a brow at him and daring him to deny it.

  “It was good,” he said with a short nod, not meeting her gaze. “I never said otherwise. But it’s just sex,” he added, as if in warning. What did he think was going through her head? Manifestations of a life together? A white picket fence around this place with a yellow lab and two and a half kids?

  Kira snorted. “I’m well aware of that, Rafe. You don’t have to tell me.” daring to go there, she asked, “So, are you going to let me help you get my brother?”

  He didn’t answer right away, and Kira held her breath. Could he have changed his mind? Had he decided he could trust her to give them what they needed to draw Jake out and give him the sendoff he deserved?

  But his shoulders tensed, and he just reached for his coffee cup, taking a sip before answering. “It’s not personal, Kira. But he’s your family. I can’t put my brothers in danger.” He turned to look at her. “If it was just me, I might pull you in. I can tell he hurt you, and you want to kill him as badly as I do. But I can’t risk my club, and that means I can’t trust you to get involved.”

  “I’m already involved,” she told him, though she knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he told her, his eyes blazing with some unspoken vow she couldn’t understand. And really, did it matter? He was hell bent on doing this without her, keeping her as leverage and nothing more. For the moment, at least, she would have to accept that.

  7

  Rafe considered the merits of staying home for the day. And overnight. But there was no way he’d be able to relegate Kira to the second bedroom. Rachel’s room. He had almost stopped thinking about it that way. Almost.

  But having Kira in his home was difficult enough. The privacy and the sexual tension between them had already come to a head once. He had a feeling he could lock her in the second bedroom and she’d still find a way to his bed.

  Or he would go to her.

  He couldn’t understand the draw. He’d been with plenty of hot women, had plenty of women seduce him, especially since he’d joined the MC. But he’d never chased after a woman or felt the absolute magnetism that tore at him whenever he looked at Kira. Or smelled her. God, that shampoo suited her!

  And the protective, almost possessive nature that overwhelmed him when he thought about her was completely foreign. Only Rachel had made him feel that way, and that at least had made sense. She was his sister, after all, and a big brother was supposed to protect his little sister. This animalistic need to get inside Kira that accompanied the unwarranted possessive streak had him on edge. He didn’t like feeling anything he didn’t understand, and he definitely couldn’t comprehend this.

  So, rather than risk losing his sanity trying to keep his dick in check, Rafe decided they needed to head back to the clubhouse. He could turn over Kira’s captivity to Rocky or another prospect, getting some distance, and maybe he could work with the guys to come up with a plan, in case that little piss ant Jake never decided to show his face.

  Because he really needed an alternative that didn’t involve Kira’s brains being anywhere but inside her skull.

  She didn’t argue when he told her they were leaving, just quietly packed a couple of extra things from the trunk, into the duffel he tossed at her. He didn’t want to come back here, if he could help it, until Kira was gone, back with her own people. The lure was too great.

  When they arrived, she followed him quietly back to the bunk room, settling in without a word. “I’ll be back in a bit to check on you,” he told her, feeling guilty. “I promise, I’m not going to leave you in here to rot.”

  She snorted. “You better not.”

  The way her gaze lingered at his crotch almost set him on fire. Distance. He needed distance.

  And something else to focus on.

  He gave her a short nod and headed back down the hall, searching for Corey. He’d called a last minute meeting, and Rafe had confirmation the entire crew would be around the table in twenty minutes. It obviously concerned Jake and the Diamond Kings, probably more related to the little visit this morning. But Rafe needed a distraction now, not in twenty minutes. That was more than enough time to make at least one more poor decision where Kira was concerned.

  Rafe found his president quickly, behind the bar pouring himself a finger of whiskey. When he glanced up and saw Rafe, he grabbed a second glass. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Corey quipped sarcastically.

  “Don’t start,�
�� Rafe grumbled. “I’ve heard enough from Zeke already.”

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” Corey asked, plunking the second glass in front of him hard enough to slosh a bit of the liquid out. “You were the one who said nothing was going to happen. And then you not only sleep with her, you take her back to your house?”

  “She had to eat and shower, and I wasn’t going to make her a spectacle here for everyone to see.” It was a valid argument, but Rafe also knew there was more to it. He just couldn’t say anything to Corey, or he’d be kicked out of this meeting and taken out of the fight ahead.

  Corey shook his head, downed his drink, and poured a second before meeting Rafe’s eyes with a warning expression. “You aren’t thinking straight, brother. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but you aren’t in the game.”

  “I’m in the game,” Rafe countered adamantly, draining his own glass.

  “Are you?” Corey asked, eyeing him carefully. “You’ve been waiting for the opportunity to skin Jake Hawthorne alive for over six years, and you’ve had a lot of anger to carry around about it. But you’ve always stayed level headed, even in your worst moments. Today, you went after Edgar like he tripped a wire to a land mine. And the way you’re acting about this chick, the one who’s supposed to get Hawthorne into your hands, is not like you.”

  “I don’t know what you mean by that.” Rafe didn’t want to have this discussion, but he couldn’t walk away from the club president.

  Corey didn’t answer immediately. “You’re too close to this, Rafe. You need to let someone else handle her from now on.”

  Rafe shook his head. “She’s my prisoner. It’s my fight.” Corey opened his mouth to argue, but Rafe held up a hand to stop him. He knew where the conversation was headed, and he had to put a halt to it. “I know the whole club is involved. And I know I have to keep a clear head. That’s why I’m here and not at home. That’s why Rocky is posted on the door to the bunk room. That’s why I’m coming to this meeting and hoping we can do something productive, something that gets Jake’s attention so I can hand her over and be done with it.”