“Would you prefer to talk out here?” he asked when she didn’t respond.
“No, I—” She could handle him. She had self-control. He no longer had the power to make her forego common sense and act on impulse. After her silent pep talk, she said, “No. Come in.”
Inside, she dropped her purse on the foyer table. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked over her shoulder, making her way toward the kitchen. It was a strain to keep her voice normal.
“No, I’m fine. How did your meeting with the attorney go?”
Rebekah poured herself a glass of water and took several swallows before placing the glass on the table. “It went well. He plans to contact your attorney soon.”
His eyes roamed over her exposed skin in the sleeveless blouse. Goose bumps sprang up and down the length of her arms. “Are you okay? You seem a little tense.”
Yes, she was tense, and it was his fault. “I’m fine.”
A sound from the foyer caught their attention. Ricardo and two of his friends traipsed into the kitchen.
“Wow, it’s true,” one of the boys said, staring up at Rafael in awe.
Rafael took the boy’s hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you,” he said with a smile.
“See, I told you!” Ricardo said. “He’s my dad.” He turned to Rebekah. “Mom, can I sleep next door tonight? We want to play video games.”
Still flustered, it took a moment for Rebekah to answer. She turned to the other two boys. “Is it okay with your mother?”
Both heads bobbed in unison. “Yes, Miss Jamison. My mom sent me over to get your permission.”
“If it’s all right with her, it’s all right with me.”
“Yes!” The three boys ran upstairs, but not before one last backward glance at Rafael by one of Ricardo’s young friends.
“I’ll be right back,” Rebekah said, following the boys. It only took a few minutes for her to make sure Ricardo had everything he needed for his night at the neighbor’s. When he was safely back across the street, she rejoined Rafael in the kitchen.
Alone in the house with Rafael, Rebekah’s pulse hammered a warning, alerting her she was at a disadvantage.
“Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?”
“We were discussing how tense you were.” His voice was dangerously low and inviting.
“And I told you, I’m not tense. I’m fine.”
“Turn around.” The words conjured erotic images of him behind her. Her body moistened at the thought of doing what he asked and lifting her bottom against his hips. “Let me give you a massage.”
“Oh.” The erotic image dissipated. “I’m fine. Really.”
“You used to like my massages.” His voice lowered even more.
Magic hands, she used to call him. Once he’d eased the tension in her shoulders and back, he would ease the aching in her loins with firm, sure strokes.
“Relax,” he said, taking matters into his own hands and turning her around so she faced the table. His long fingers began to move in a soothing motion across the knotted muscles. “You’re really tense, amada.”
The initial touch of his hands sent jolts of electricity darting across her skin. Despite his size and strength, his fingers moved gently across her shoulder blades, kneading the tight tissue with the skill of a professional masseur. Having been an athlete for years, he’d mastered the technique of manipulating the various muscles. He applied the right amount of pressure, and her eyes drifted closed. She had no choice but to let go and soften to his touch.
“That’s better,” he whispered.
The warmth exuding from him caressed her skin, making the back of her neck tingle. The slow ascension of arousal began somewhere deep inside her and climbed at a steady pace through her body.
He abandoned her shoulder to encircle one wrist and brought the back of her hand to his lips. Her eyes flew open.
The other hand slid down the length of the A-line skirt, smoothing over the roundness of her hip. She heard him take a deep breath. “Now I remember.” His voice rumbled close to her ear. “Pomegranate Orchard is the name of the scent you wear.”
“Rafe, I’ve already warned you.” She retrieved her hand with a firm twist. A pulsing awareness thrummed through her, making her breathless and needy, wanting him with every fiber of her being. She turned to face him.
Bracing a hand on either side of her, he trapped her between him and the round table. “I’m not good at following directions.”
“Keep your hands to yourself.”
“You didn’t mind a moment ago.”
“I mean it.” She didn’t sound as harsh as she wanted to.
A crooked, unconcerned smile appeared on his face. “Well, if you don’t want my hands on you,” he said, “maybe my mouth is more to your liking.”
The husky words invited her to bliss. Rafael dipped his head and slid his mouth across hers with little pressure. The gentle exploration gave her the option to pull away if she wanted to do so.
The moment his lips touched hers, she was lost, caught up in a tornado of desire that whisked its way through her. Hunger stirred to full life in her body, making her long for his hands and more intimate contact. Of their own volition, her palms slid across the contours of his broad chest and came to rest on his shoulders.
But he didn’t touch her.
Slipping her arms around his neck, she drew him closer and opened her mouth beneath his to deepen the kiss, entwining her tongue with his.
Still, he didn’t touch her.
She stroked her fingers across the short hairs at the nape of his neck and pressed her aching breasts against his chest. The nipples swelled and hardened on contact. With her full length against him, she could feel every inch of his hard body, breathe in his unique male scent. The hard ridge of his erection aroused her further, making her lift her leg to wrap her foot around his calf, and get up on tip toe to try to center it where she ached the most.
Finally, he touched her.
With a suddenness that took her breath away, he grabbed two handfuls of her bottom and lifted her until he was cradled in the valley of her thighs. Moisture filled her panties as she ground her hips against him.
“I see you’ve changed your mind,” Rafael said, his voice rough with passion.
Without giving Rebekah a chance to answer, he spun her around so she faced away from him. She assumed the position, her fingers splayed out on top of the cool, wooden tabletop. She stood frozen, except for the trembling of her inner thighs, awaiting his next move.
His long fingers swept her thick hair aside to hang over her shoulder so he could drop tender kisses along her neck and the sensitive skin behind her ear. She closed her eyes to savor each connection of his lips to her flesh.
Before she could process his actions, his hands climbed up the back of her bare thighs. Heady desire engulfed her, weakening her resistance. Rendered helpless against the onslaught of his skilled touch, she longed to have him stroke her intimately, to ease the throbbing that blossomed between her legs.
“You won’t be needing this,” he said.
Not a second later, she heard the sound of tearing material and felt his hands on her naked hips. He’d torn off her panties! The fragile silk proved no match for the strength of his powerful hands. As he caressed her bare bottom, she fell onto her forearms, using the table to stay upright because her weakened knees could no longer support her.
“Rafe,” she breathed.
Her senses reeled with an indecent swell of anticipation as her mind registered he was on his knees behind her. The folds of her skirt were bunched in his meaty fist while his mouth—his wicked, thorough mouth—pressed reverential kisses along the base of her spine. Lips parted, back arched, she squeezed her eyes tight as he showered kisses down the curve of her backside and licked the underside of her right cheek before his tongue lingered to flick a circular pattern around the flat mole of the left one.
With one hand, he nudged her legs wider. A low whimper
escaped her throat. Her body pulsed, wanting what was on offer, consumed with need. And then…contact. The moist swirl of his tongue against her damp, aroused flesh was more than she could bear. With a helpless moan, her shaky knees gave way. The sureness of his hands eased her crumble to the floor.
She offered no resistance when he positioned himself between her open legs, leaving the path clear for the descent of his mouth. Her heart beat crazily in her chest in response to the gradual slide of his palms up the silky length of her thighs.
A guttural sound emerged from Rafael’s throat, and he lowered his face between her legs, kissing her intimately. She slid backward on the cold tile, trying but not really wanting to escape his mouth, but he used his superior strength to hold her in place. He raised his head long enough to loop her right leg over his shoulder, licked at the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, then directed his undivided attention to her moist center.
His grip tightened on her quivering thighs, keeping her open to every swipe of his rapacious tongue. She twisted against him, aching, throbbing, her breath harsh and shallow. His teeth gently nipped at her, teasing her sensitive skin for long seconds, leaving her gasping and forcing a long, low moan from her lips. She drowned in the pleasure of his mouth, her body growing wetter at the contented groans she heard from him, as if he enjoyed what he was doing as much as she enjoyed having him do it.
His tongue stroked the bundle of nerves with precision, then drew it between his soft lips with a prolonged suck. The single act catapulted her into the abyss. She exploded into his mouth. Her breasts thrust toward the ceiling with a sudden jerk while a hoarse cry of satisfaction tore from her lips as her body convulsed. She was out of control, shattering into a million pieces, lost in the sensations of an orgasm that fired through her with such force she couldn’t catch her breath.
Even after her climax, his head remained between her legs. His mouth wrung every last quiver from her pulsing body, his actions akin to those of a starved man who aimed to capture every morsel and lick his plate clean.
When he finally leaned back on his haunches, he cleansed the sheen of her body’s moisture from his lips with a swipe of his tongue. Hunger swirled in the depths of his eyes, darkening them to charcoal gray. He had been deprived of the release granted to her, and the massive bulge between his legs confirmed it.
Rebekah looked away from him as aftershocks vibrated through her. With trembling fingers, she pushed her skirt back down to her knees.
Chapter Nine
Rafael pushed up from the floor and helped Rebekah to her feet.
“I guess you’re proud of yourself,” she said, straightening her clothes. In the aftermath, she was angry. She hadn’t handled him at all. He’d been in control the entire time. Two nights in a row she’d been like softened clay in his hands, unable to resist him.
“Actually, that’s the last thing I have on my mind. I’m very horny right now.” His admission didn’t surprise her because of the blatant evidence. The old Rafael would have taken her on the floor, which made her wonder what had made him stop.
“Well, don’t think I’ll return the favor.”
His dimples appeared and his eyes became alight with amusement. “Oh, I already know you don’t like to do that—unless things have changed?”
“Nothing’s changed.” Feeling self-conscious, Rebekah combed her fingers through her voluminous hair. “And it’s not that I didn’t like to do it, it’s that you wanted me to—to—”
“To let me finish in your mouth?”
Heat warmed her cheeks. “Yes.” She reached up to close a button that had popped open from her wanton writhing on the floor.
His hooded gaze remained on the movement of her fingers as they fumbled with the button. The exquisite orgasm he’d gifted her with made her bones feel like liquid and her skin hypersensitive. What happened between them couldn’t be helped, she reasoned. His lovemaking skills hadn’t diminished one iota in the intervening years. What woman could resist such an erotic onslaught?
“That’s every man’s fantasy,” he said with a silky drawl.
“I’m sure…” She almost said she was sure he’d had plenty of women willing to do that for him, but she didn’t. They had an agreement not to bring up the past anymore. “I’m sure it is.”
Just behind Rafael she caught sight of the torn remains of black silk he had tossed behind him. He followed her line of vision and reached down to pick up the torn panties. When she reached out her hand to take it, he tucked it into the pocket of his jeans.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered fiercely, as if someone else stood in the kitchen with them.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He headed toward the front door.
“You can’t keep that. Give it to me!”
He ignored her, never faltering in his steps.
“Rafe!” He turned to face her just inside the door.
“Think about it,” Rafael said.
“Think about what?”
“About us,” he answered. “We both have needs, we’re both adults, and we’re still married. There’s nothing wrong with us satisfying our needs with each other during the interim.”
He made it sound so simple, but it would only complicate matters between them, and she had to consider the ramifications of her actions. Could she explore a purely sexual relationship with him and walk away unscathed at the end of it?
“It’s a ridiculous idea,” Rebekah said.
“Is it?” He pulled the underwear from his pocket and dangled it in front of her.
“You’re a pig.”
“Think about it.”
She made a grab for her underwear, but he snatched it out of her reach.
One finger curled into the waistband of her skirt and drew her close. He dipped his head and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “It’s not a crazy idea.” His warm breath fanned across her lips. She gazed into his eyes, on the brink of abandoning her resolve and yielding to more ecstasy in his arms.
He released her, allowing his hand to drag along her buttocks. She took two steps backward and broke the spell.
His sensuous lips curved into a smile. “Buenas noches, amada.”
Rebekah closed the door with a firm thump and pressed her back against it. She closed her eyes, unsuccessfully trying to will her breathing to return to normal. Her entire body shook. How could she have allowed herself to get so carried away? How could she have allowed him to stoke the flames inside her and reawaken her body to intimacies that made her long for him again?
It had taken several years to put her splintered heart back together after the tabloid story. The joy of becoming a mother had helped her through the pain, but the fear of getting hurt had caused her to delay involvement with anyone else for a long time. She had devoted her time to her son, working, and going to school to get her degree.
Rebekah groaned inwardly, pressing her palms to her heated cheeks.
“Enough, Rebekah,” she whispered. “Get over it. He’s only a man.” A virile, sexy man who’d had her moaning his name and crying out on the kitchen floor.
She reminded herself he’d destroyed their marriage with his selfish pursuits and caused her great humiliation. Because of him, she’d been forced to concede her parents had been right and had given her sound advice, which, to the detriment of her heart, she had disregarded in youthful ignorance.
Yet despite the mental catalog of reasons why she shouldn’t want Rafael, her body couldn’t connect the dots.
Letting out a slow breath through her lips, Rebekah pushed away from the door to go upstairs. She could not avoid a long, cold shower tonight.
* * * *
Back at the hotel, Rafael paced the floor slowly, deep in thought. The CNN newscaster gave an update on strife in other parts of the world, but he didn’t hear a word the man said.
He swirled the amber liquid of his favorite bourbon before swallowing a mouthful of it.
He was so aroused he might have to
soak in a tub filled with ice. His inadequate memory had in no way prepared him for the pleasure he’d received tonight. His body wanted inside hers with such ferocity it shook him. It had taken monumental restraint to rise from the floor instead of unzipping his pants and filling her with his hard length.
Despite her enthusiastic response, with one small, sane part of his brain, he’d recognized it was too soon, and she wouldn’t handle that level of intimacy well. He’d set aside his own needs, but he doubted he’d be able to exercise the same level of restraint if he found himself in a similar circumstance again.
He came to a halt and drained his glass. His eyes remained on the view beyond the patio door. Long, rectangular buildings were covered in tiny squares of light in the darkness of night.
The thoughts that had speared through his mind earlier resurfaced. How would he manage the long separations for months at a time from his son? Another thought emerged. How would he manage the separation from his wife?
The seeds of an idea sprouted in his mind.
By some odd twist of fate, he and Rebekah were still married. What if they stayed married? What if he could convince her becoming a family was the best thing for Ricardo?
She didn’t trust him because of the past, so it would take some convincing. He’d wooed her once, and maybe he could do it again. It would be hard, but he would have to back off, give her room, and let her feel comfortable.
With renewed purpose, he picked up his cell phone and punched in the number for his assistant.
It was time to head home, and he was taking his wife and son with him.
Chapter Ten
Rebekah stroked her fingers down the strands of her ponytail, amazed she was on her way to California. She still didn’t know how she’d managed to pack for the summer and wrap up her personal life in four days.
She stretched her legs, enjoying the roominess of the first class seat. Across the aisle, Ricardo sat next to the window with Rafael seated beside him. Their dark heads were huddled together over the video game Ricardo had hardly put down since his father purchased it.
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