Come

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Come Page 4

by Becca Jameson


  Oh my God. He is definitely interested. All that worrying for nothing.

  “Okay. You can pick me up. Or we could hang out here. I could get a movie or something.”

  “No way. Your virtue wouldn’t be safe alone in your home. I would never be able to stick to my rules of dating.”

  She gasped. Virtue? Rules of dating? And then she laughed. “Really? Do you find it that difficult to keep your hands to yourself in general, or is it me?”

  His voice lowered as he spoke again. “Baby, it’s definitely all you. You’ve distracted the hell out of me the entire week. I had rows of numbers that didn’t add up at least a dozen times. And the ribbing I’ve gotten from Mason has been the source of his endless amusement.”

  Holy shit!

  “But I’m a complex guy with a package that is more than meets the eye. I enjoyed our date and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but I won’t go further without spilling a few more details about myself.”

  Katy gulped this time. Shit was right. Maybe this was too good to be true. Maybe he was married or had three kids or divorced or murdered his ex-wife. Anything was possible. Well, except for the murder. She couldn’t quite picture that from him.

  She heard a commotion in the background and then a muffled sound as he undoubtedly covered the phone with his hand.

  When he came back on, he continued. “Okay, gotta go. If it’s okay with you, text me your address and I’ll be there when I finish Friday. These things sometimes go rather late, but I drew an early slot this week, so I should be done by about eight. Is that okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “See you then.”

  “See you.” She pulled the phone from her ear when the line went dead and stared at it as though not believing a word of the last ten minutes of conversation. Her head swam with the excitement. He liked her. He really did. But, shit, he had secrets…

  Chapter Five

  Rafe’s hands were shaking, though he gripped the steering wheel tight. It had taken every ounce of his concentration to get through the match unscathed. Relatively. His opponent did manage to land a left hook that had evened out the swelling he still sported on the left side of his face. As if that were a goal of his.

  He cringed as he reached up to touch the bruise. He didn’t lose often, and he hadn’t tonight, but he had fought hard to hang in there with thoughts of seeing Katy swimming through his consciousness the entire time. Thank God he hadn’t invited her to come. He’d have been laid out flat and taken away on a stretcher.

  When he arrived at her condo, he took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. He was more nervous tonight than last week. He really liked this woman. And that scared the bejebus out of him. What if he told her about his sexual preferences and she ran screaming?

  After he rang the bell, it took only moments for her to open the door. The smile on her face calmed his nerves. He rubbed his hands on his jeans as she let him in.

  Her place was immaculate. He imagined it always was. Suited her. Considering how put together she was on the outside, he wasn’t surprised to find her home just as organized. “Sorry I’m so late.”

  “You’re fine. It’s only eight thirty.” She glanced at her watch. “Sit. Can I get you a drink?” She headed farther into the condo. “Beer, wine, soda?” She glanced over her shoulder as she entered the attached kitchen.

  “A beer would be great. Thanks.” He wandered deeper into her living room, admiring how comfortable it was. The soft brown couch looked inviting and relaxing. It faced a large-screen television that wasn’t on. Music played in the background. Something current. A local pop station.

  As he took a seat on the couch, Katy returned with two beers in hand. She sat next to him, not close enough to touch, but near enough for him to smell the sweet scent of her shampoo.

  Katy handed him a beer and took a sip of her own.

  “I didn’t figure you for a beer drinker,” he teased.

  “I like beer.” She lifted her eyebrows in mock offense as she curled her legs under her body. The jeans she wore molded to her body perfectly, either well-worn or expensive, or both. Her feet were bare and now he couldn’t see them where they lay tucked under her. A short glimpse of her perfectly manicured pink toes was all he’d gotten.

  What he wanted to do was uncurl those legs, pull her feet into his lap and work his fingers into the arches that were surely screaming from the number of hours she wore heels every day.

  “How was your boxing thingy?”

  He chuckled. “It’s called MMA, mixed martial arts. A little more involved than boxing. And I won the match.”

  She wrinkled her nose as she looked at his face. “Not unscathed.”

  “Never completely.” He touched his face.

  “What’s the appeal? I mean why do guys find it necessary to beat each other up for fun?”

  “It’s exhilarating like no other work out. Plus I like to win. Gets my adrenaline pumping.” He shrugged. “Not sure how to describe the feeling, but you aren’t the first woman to question it.”

  She shivered. “I can’t imagine such a desire.”

  “So, what do you do for fun?”

  “Fun? I’m a lawyer. We don’t do fun.” She giggled. “Just teasing. I do work out three nights a week after work, but I wouldn’t describe it as fun. There’s a gym in the bottom floor of my office. Membership is free. I force myself to hit the lower level when I get in the elevator. Granted I do feel fantastic afterward, but making myself go is a daily challenge. I also run with my best friend on Sunday mornings.”

  She shook a finger as she continued. “Now that’s killing several birds at one time. We put miles under our belts, enjoy the outdoors, counsel each other on the week’s problems, and provide a shoulder when we kick some guy to the curb. We’ve been known to solve world peace on occasion.”

  Rafe laughed. “Yeah, we dudes don’t rely on each other quite to that extent. Give us a punching bag and some gloves and we can accomplish the same thing by beating on an inanimate object.”

  He took another drink of his beer. “We should go out. There’s a neat little place I want to take you.” There was no way he could sit very long in her home and make small talk. Just watching her lips move to form words made him want to kiss her senseless.

  “You really can’t stand the thought of staying here alone with me.” Her eyes twinkled.

  He shook his head. “Don’t trust myself.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that.”

  He shrugged. “Compliment?”

  “Okay, but I’ve never dated a man who intentionally tried to keep his hands to himself.” She unfolded her legs and stood. “I’ll grab some shoes.” As she turned to leave the room, she paused, twisting her head around to meet his gaze. “You aren’t some sort of chaste religious freak who wants to remain a virgin until marriage are you?”

  He spewed beer in a wide spray in front of him and then choked in laughter. “Hardly.”

  Her shoulders relaxed and she narrowed her gaze at him. “I can’t read you.”

  “Good. I like to keep my women on their toes.”

  She shook her head as she wandered away. When she came back, she was wearing the same outfit, but her entire look had changed with the addition of sexy heels.

  Rafe licked his lips. He almost wished she didn’t always look so damn good. It was difficult to get to know her with the distraction of her perfect body enticing him to pay attention to anything but her face. As she turned her back to grab her phone off the kitchen counter, he stared at her ass in the perfect-fitting jeans. God how he wanted to press his hands into those pockets and grasp her butt cheeks.

  When she whipped around, she grinned at him. “Ready?”

  He felt his face flush. She’d definitely caught him ogling her. And the front was no better. She wore a thin, body-hugging shirt that accentuated her breasts and made him lick his lips.

  He was doomed.

  •●•

  Katy followed Rafe i
nto the dimly lit bar. The entrance was tight with people, so he reached his hand behind him and grabbed hers, keeping her right against his back as he made his way deeper inside. A tingle went up Katy’s arm from their joined palms to her neck. He was so courteous and protective of her. With his grip, there was no chance he would lose her in the crowded bar.

  Katy glanced around as best she could as they inched forward. She wasn’t tall enough to see much, but the atmosphere was distinct even without the visual. The room was painted a dark color, perhaps black or navy. The air was filled with smoke, but she couldn’t smell the distinct scent of cigarettes so she presumed there must have been a fog machine.

  But all that wasn’t what made the place stand out. It would have been one of any number of bars if it weren’t for the sultry deep voice of the blues singer coming from the far wall, filling the entire space with his harmony.

  Katy wasn’t a huge fan of the blues, but she couldn’t help feel her entire body relaxing as the music seeped into her soul. She lifted onto her tiptoes to get a better look and found three men on a raised stage across the room. One played the bass, one the guitar, and the third leaned into the microphone, his eyes tiny slits.

  Rafe came to a stop and twisted to whisper in her ear. “You’re smiling. You like the place?”

  “I do.” She didn’t remove her gaze from the singer. His deep voice tugged at her, hypnotizing her with his rhythm.

  “I’m going to grab us a beer, okay?” His lips landed on her ear as he spoke, sending a shiver down her neck. The bar was so loud, she wouldn’t have been able to hear him otherwise, but she preferred to think he liked being that close to her.

  She nodded. “Sounds good.”

  He didn’t release her hand as he wove through the maze of patrons and leaned over the bar to order. Only their fingers touched as he angled his body to one side to fit between two people leaning against the bar. Katy couldn’t manage to squeeze any closer, but she noted that Rafe didn’t release her. In fact he squeezed her hand tighter as though she would drift away and be lost to him if he let go. She had the sensation of floating in the sea, the calm waves threatening to dislodge her from Rafe, who had no intention of allowing such a travesty.

  When he turned back toward her, he held two bottles of beer over his head. They dripped with condensation, cooling Katy’s heated skin when the icy water hit her shoulder.

  Continuing through the labyrinth, Rafe led her around the bar and found an open spot to lean against the wall. He handed her one of the bottles and took a long drink from his own. “Something about a beer and blues seems to go together.”

  She could barely hear his words over the music. When the song ended, she turned around to watch the band as they introduced the next number. She didn’t recognize the name of the tune, but it didn’t matter. As soon as they launched into the next set, she felt herself sliding back under their spell.

  Rafe pulled her back against his front and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  Katy leaned into his chest, nestled between his legs. It felt so familiar, so right. She glanced around, wondering what someone would think of them at a glance. They could easily be mistaken for long-time lovers instead of a newly matched couple on their third date.

  She smiled.

  Rafe set his chin on her shoulder and tapped his foot to the rhythm. He whispered into her ear again. Did he have any idea how that affected her? She held her breath as he spoke, aware of every inch of her skin. “I love this place. It calms me.”

  She could see the allure. He wasn’t kidding. But she wasn’t particularly calm at the moment. Her entire body was alert. Her nipples pebbled beneath her tight shirt and sheer bra. She was glad it was dark enough that no one would notice. When he spread his palm wide against her belly, she felt the possession clear to her pussy.

  Her clit came to life. Her jeans seemed suddenly too small. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, causing Rafe to press into her stomach tighter as she adjusted her stance. Nothing eased the pressure on her sex, however.

  His other hand, draped across the first, held his beer, which he tapped in time to the music against his knuckles.

  Katy swallowed. She’d never been so intensely aroused with anyone. Was it the music? The atmosphere? Or Rafe?

  She knew the answer to that question. The man had grabbed her interest from the moment she’d plastered herself to him outside her uncle’s gym. He’d played along so easily, comfortably allowing her to pretend they were a couple without missing a beat. And she would never forget the way he’d opened his mouth and eased into hers with his tongue, as though instinct had driven them both into a deeper embrace that wasn’t strictly necessary.

  The task of convincing her boss she had a boyfriend could easily have been accomplished with a simple peck. From inside the car, the man couldn’t possibly have seen the intimate way Rafe teased her tongue, the way he gripped her ass with his hands, molding his fingers around the globes and almost lifting her off the ground.

  And there was no way in hell the man in the car could have heard the soft sounds Katy emitted as the table turned and Rafe took possession of her before she’d known what the hell happened.

  Rafe definitely captured her interest. And he held it tighter with each passing day. Whatever his rules of dating entailed, she hoped he had some magic third-date exception that lifted some of his hesitation.

  She closed her eyes and listened to the music, or tried to anyway. It seemed as though the sounds in the room swirled together to form a unique blend of noise that reached inside her and set the stage for her mood. No one dissonance stood out any longer. The package controlled her mood.

  She was aware of every movement Rafe made, her ears nearly ringing with the musical background as though she were wearing earplugs that dampened the tones and brought every touch to the forefront. He lifted the bottle to take a drink, his chin rising from her neck. She could feel his throat as he swallowed. She was that close to him.

  And the condensation on the bottle dripped again onto her bare shoulder and ran down between her breasts. She was on fire. The cold drops of water making her aware of her burning need.

  When Rafe set the bottle against her neck, she rolled her head onto his other shoulder and moaned. She gripped her own beer tighter, afraid she would be consumed by him and drop the bottle on the ground.

  Rafe chuckled, lowered his arm back under hers, and then rocked her world by licking the moisture from beneath her ear. “God, you’re sexy.”

  Katy inhaled sharply, every inch of her body wishing she were naked in his arms. She could feel the wetness building between her legs and wished it were socially acceptable to turn around and fuck the sexy god behind her against the wall. She hardly cared what anyone around her would think. She was that far gone. He had cast a spell on her. And she wanted more.

  Katy’s hand shook as she lifted her beer to her lips. She needed a drink. Her mouth had grown dry. As she tipped her head back and let the icy cold liquid run down her throat, her shirt rose a few inches, enough that Rafe’s splayed fingers now rested against her exposed belly. He dipped two fingers into her jeans and grazed them against her skin. His hand was so big, he covered nearly all of her stomach. As he tapped the bottle he held with his other hand in rhythm to the beat, the cool glass repeatedly hit her belly button. Condensation pooled and ran down into her jeans.

  Rafe seemed oblivious to her plight. He hummed to the music and tapped his foot and his hand against her until she thought she would explode with the need to have more of him.

  It was so unlike her. She hadn’t had time to date in the last few years. And the few men she’d gone out with in recent months had not lit a spark anywhere close to the one igniting her since she’d met Rafe.

  A couple squeezed by Katy to grab a spot on the wall next to her. Rafe pulled her in closer, as if that were possible. She became aware of his cock pressing into her lower back. He wasn’t unaffected by her either. In fact, she grew bold enough
to wiggle against him, praying it would pay off.

  Forget his rules of dating. Katy never slept with a man this early in a relationship. She wondered if the very fact that he’d insisted on keeping things at a snail’s pace was enticing her to want him to speed up the process. Withholding sex was in itself a turn on. Was it a ploy?

  She didn’t give two fucks right then. She wanted him to crave her the way she desired his touch.

  “Imp,” he whispered into her ear as he bucked his ass away from her squirming butt. “You’re playing with fire.” The words without his tone of voice could have been a warning, but from Rafe they sounded like a promise. God she hoped so.

  Katy’s skin heated as the band moved on to another song. She didn’t know enough about blues to discern one from another, but she considered the possibility of learning more if this was how she would feel every time she listened to a blues band. She suspected the majority of her mood was caused by the man holding her more than the sensual tunes coming from the stage.

  Lulled by the heat, Katy leaned her head back and rested it fully on Rafe’s shoulder.

  Rafe lifted his beer and rolled it across her exposed neck and chest. It felt heavenly, the contrast making her breasts tighten and her nipples plead with her for attention.

  When Rafe lowered his other hand to her thigh, she closed her eyes entirely. Her vision had gone blurry anyway. She was that aroused. He gripped her leg with firm pressure and stroked his thumb to the music, every brush of his hand grazing precariously closer to her pussy.

  She might have moaned. She wasn’t sure. Or maybe Rafe did. Either way, she seemed to melt.

  Rafe took her beer from her hand and held both bottles between his fingers, continuing to tap them against her chest. She was grateful not to have to concentrate on holding the bottle any longer. She wiggled her arms under both of Rafe’s and reached back to grab his belt loops. It gave her something to do with her arms, but she immediately felt more open and exposed to him. She held on anyway, afraid she would simply slink to the floor in a pile of goo if she did anything else.

 

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