by Sam Mariano
When I got back to Rafe’s table, he completely threw me by asking, “Is Felix gay?”
I blinked, then my eyes widened in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I thought Felix was gay.”
I stammered, completely lost for what to say. Finally, I managed to say, “No, he’s not gay.”
He didn’t say anything more about it, but the whole occurrence was incredibly odd, just like Rafe’s general quietness afterward. I don’t know if things are weird because Rafe doesn’t want people at the restaurant to know about us and maybe he hadn’t even thought of it, or if there’s some other reason.
Now it’s just us though, and we’re great in our bubble. If we could spend all our time together alone, I wouldn’t be worried about anything.
Rafe reaches a hand toward me, brushing a rogue chunk of hair off the side of my face, then dragging the backs of his fingers along my jawline. I close my eyes on a sigh, but I open them right back up because I don’t want a miss a single moment of looking at him, gloriously naked in bed with me.
I never thought this would actually happen.
“What are you thinking?” Rafe asks.
Given what I was just thinking isn’t something I necessarily want to share, I pause to reach for another thought.
Rafe shakes his head. “Nope. The first one.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t take that long to answer with the thing that’s right on the tip of your tongue. That’s immediate. It doesn’t take any time. I want that thought.”
I huff at the unfairness of him selecting which thought I have to share. “I can have more than one thought at a time, you know? What are you thinking?”
Without hesitation, he answers, “That you look beautiful.” Cocking an eyebrow, he says, “Now, tell me what you were thinking.”
I try to envision saying what I was thinking and it not making things weird, but I can’t. As much as I’d like to obey him, I look away. “I… I don’t want to share that one.”
“Were you thinking about someone else?”
My eyes widen. Normally he’s at least close on what I’m thinking about, but he couldn’t be further off base tonight. That gives me some idea of where his head might be, but… well, it just seems crazy. I’m lying in bed with the literal man of my dreams, thinking how amazing it is that I am in his bed with him, and he is wondering if I’m thinking of someone else? That’s fucking insane.
Well, insane to me.
I guess he has been dumped for another man in both of his last relationships—if you even consider him and Laurel a relationship, but I don’t know what else to call them. A tryout? Either way, I think the sun rises and sets on Rafe, but I guess I have to consider that—while he is a one-night-stand all-star—both of the women he let closer to him than that most recently found him lacking in some department.
I don’t find anything about Rafe to be lacking, ever. I can’t even fathom thinking that.
As absurd as it seems to me that those thoughts could even cross his mind when he has so much to offer, just in case they are, I slide my arm around his waist and curl up close. I gaze up at him with open affection and pepper his jawline with kisses.
“Of course I’m not thinking of anyone else,” I tell him, as my lips move along his strong jaw. “As far as I’m concerned, there is no one else. Just you and me. All the other people in the world have disappeared. It’s the damndest thing.”
That makes him smile. “I wonder what happened to them.”
“I just hope they don’t come back,” I joke, before trailing my lips down his neck. “I love being here with you. That’s what I was thinking.”
He fists a hand in my hair, tugging my head back and looking down at me severely. “It was not. Don’t lie to me.”
Warmth moves through my belly at the tone of command he uses, even though I’m sated. “I wasn’t lying. That is what I was thinking. I didn’t want you to think I was being mushy.”
“Mm hmm,” he murmurs, seemingly unconvinced, as he drags the tip of his finger lightly down the front of my neck, sending chills everywhere.
I can’t tell if he’s playing or not. Uncertainty makes me feel a little drunk, a little off-kilter. Does he want to play with me? I know he likes to play domination games, but we haven’t explored his play room, or any of the games he might play inside it.
It’s like I can feel him wanting to play, but for some reason, he doesn’t ask. Is it as much fun if I offer? Maybe part of the thrill for him is luring me into it. Maybe I should wait so I can follow his lead. I don’t know how any of this works.
I feel exposed as he looks down at me. Not because I’m naked, but because of his penetrating stare, like he’s trying to see inside me. Oh, that he could.
On instinct, I ask softly, “What are you worried about?”
His voice is hard—too hard. “I’m not worried about anything.”
“Okay,” I say easily, swallowing past the lump of unease.
“Do you like being held like this, Virginia?” His tone is at once casual and in command. The finger he has been running up and down my throat stops, and his hand curls around my throat instead.
I swallow on instinct, my heartbeat kicking up a few paces. “I—um… I can see the appeal.”
His sensual lips curve up firmly. “It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart.” His fingers tighten around my throat just slightly.
“I like it if you like it,” I finally say.
His tone is more a purr than anything, and it washes over me like pure sex as he tugs me closer. “Oh, I was wrong. That’s a much better answer.” He rewards me with a kiss, and I’m so hungry for him, I let my tongue dart out to ask for more.
Upon breaking the kiss, he murmurs, “You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?”
Always.
I nod my head, feeling the tug of my hair in his fist.
He pulls my head back sharply. “Say it,” he commands.
“I want you to fuck me again,” I say, a little shakily, my insides turning molten all over again.
Now his voice is soothing. “Good girl.” Keeping his firm grip on me, he allows his eyes a moment to wander over my face, then lower, lingering on my breasts. I don’t flinch this time. Prior to Rafe, it had been quite some time since a man saw me naked, and none that had ever made me feel as beautiful as he does. Now I’m more or less used to being naked all the time when we’re together.
God, I love him. I want to lean in and kiss him again, but he’s still looking me over, so I guess I’ll wait.
“Tell me about your fantasies, Virginia. Tell me what you desire.”
I don’t need time to think about that one. “You’re my fantasy, Rafe. You’re what I desire.”
I must have given him another right answer. There’s approval in his eyes, pleasure on his features, and then he climbs on top of me and gives me my reward.
18
Virginia
Once Vince and Carly return home after Christmas, there are less distractions around, less demands of his attention, so that’s when Sin realizes something is going on.
It happens similarly to how it happened with Felix. Laurel invited us over to hang out on my evening off. It’s a warmer evening—still a little chilly for Vegas, I wear a sweater—but Laurel is outside in black leggings and a gray NASA tank top like it’s summer, her hair in a messy bun, her baby monitor on the table in front of her so she can hear Nicky if he wakes up.
Sin’s backyard has more life now that Laurel lives with him. He had some space back there, but he didn’t do much with it before. When Laurel told him she’d like an outside reading nook, he made her a little back yard oasis. Now there’s comfortable seating, a candle-lit table for drinks or baby monitors, and lights strung up along a wooden fixture he built behind her sitting area. On the other side of that wooden fixture is Skylar’s haven—a little water table and a sand box with some shade, for the days when the sun is just too hot. As she grows older, there is p
lenty of room to expand the play area according to whatever she likes at any given time.
He loves his girls.
Rafe and I sit on separate cushioned chairs, angled and facing Sin and Laurel. They are the only public couple since it’s just us tonight, so they sit snuggled up on the loveseat that seats two—or just Laurel, if she’s reading and wants to stretch out. Right now she is nestled against Sin’s side, looking much more relaxed than she did over Christmas.
“I don’t want to go back,” she says, reaching forward to grab her stemless wine glass.
Once she eases back into her spot, Sin’s arm tightens around her again. “You love school.”
“I know, but Nicky’s going to miss me.”
“Nicky’s going to sleep,” Sin states. “I can handle Nicky.”
“You’ll see plenty of him when you get home,” Rafe agrees.
“He’s still going to miss me,” Laurel insists. “They should just let me bring him to class. It’s never too early to learn.”
Something happens on the monitor—a sneeze, a cough, something irregular. I don’t know, and it doesn’t alarm me, but Sin and Laurel both spring off the loveseat and go running in the house so fast, I feel a light breeze as they pass.
Rafe’s eyebrows rise and he turns his head to watch them depart.
“Damn, I didn’t know she could move that fast. Certainly didn’t when I told her to get me a drink.”
I crack a smile, running my finger along the rim of my own wine glass. “Checking on her baby might be slightly more urgent than that.”
“Only slightly,” he jokes, then looks over his shoulder again. Seeing they’re still gone, he crooks his finger and tells me, “Get over here, you.”
I smile, standing and putting my wine glass down on the table. “What?” I tease, as I approach. “Do you need a drink right now?”
“No, just your mouth.”
I think he wants me to go down on him, so I cast an alarmed look back at the house. “I don’t think they’ll be gone that long.”
Rafe reaches for the hem of my sweater, uses it to yank me into his lap, and situates me so I’m straddling him. “I meant a kiss,” he tells me, bringing a hand around to the back of my neck and drawing me closer.
I melt against him, closing my eyes as his perfect lips brush mine.
“We should leave soon,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“Oh, should we?” I ask, languidness washing over me.
“Mm hmm. I want to eat your pussy, and I don’t think I can do that here.”
Arousal shoots through my lower belly and settles between my legs. “You can lick my pussy anywhere and anytime you like. On the six o’clock news, if you really want to.”
Rafe’s chuckle rumbles through me and I snuggle closer. His hand drifts down between my legs and he rubs me through the snug denim of my jeans.
I nearly jump out of my skin—and nearly fall off Rafe’s lap—as Sin pointedly clears his throat. My eyes dart to his like a guilty teenager whose father just walked in on her with a boy, while Rafe’s reflexes are thankfully good enough that his arm shoots out and keeps me from falling backward off the chair.
Swiftly untangling myself from Rafe, I climb off his lap, my face flaming. I don’t know what to say, exactly, so I just stand here. Waiting to be grounded, I guess.
“You know we have windows, right?” Sin asks.
I clear my throat. “I—” I stop immediately, realizing I have no idea what to say.
Rafe, however, seems to know just what to say. “Don’t tell Laurel.”
My swollen heart drops right out of its too narrow cavity. It scrapes the sides on the way down, and drops into a dark pit in my stomach. I glance at Rafe, but I don’t look long enough to catch his eye. I don’t know how to interpret what he just said, but as I begin running through explanations, none of them are good. Obviously he doesn’t still have romantic feelings for her (and Sin isn’t the person he would confide them in if he did, since he’s her fiancé) but the fact that he wants Sin to protect Laurel from this information… the fact that as much as we’re enjoying one another, he doesn’t want those closest to him to know…
It means I’m temporary.
It means I am Cinderella at the ball, and midnight is coming. Rafe is just enjoying the dance before then, like he does with every other temporary girl he brings into his life.
I’m a booth girl. Just one with a longer shelf life, I guess.
Sin doesn’t have the most expressive face, but when he looks back at me, I see a flash of pity in his eyes, and it’s more than I can take.
Clearing my throat, I reach for my purse. “You know what? I have an early morning tomorrow, so I should be getting home anyway. Tell Laurel I said thanks for inviting me.”
Rafe frowns at me, pushing up out of his seat. “Yeah, I should go, too.”
“No, you should stay,” I tell him. “Stay here with your family. I’m going home. Alone.”
I flash Sin a wilted smile and make my way around front, but Rafe is right on my heels.
“Virginia, come on. Don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I state, working to keep unhelpful emotions out of my tone. “Everything is fine, Rafe. We’re fine. I just really do have an early morning tomorrow, and I should probably maintain my own life outside the Rafe bubble. That’s all. I can come over when I get off work tomorrow, if you want me to.”
Since I say all that without stopping and without so much as looking back at him over my shoulder, he doesn’t buy it.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he tells me. “I’m not even sure why I did. It seemed like an unspoken understanding between us that we weren’t telling. I put the ball in your court on Christmas, and you’re the one who didn’t want—”
Now I spin around. “I didn’t want Carly to know. I didn’t want my co-workers to know, because you own the damned restaurant and I didn’t want people to talk shit about me sleeping with the boss. Sin and Laurel? They’re our friends. They’re your family. Laurel is the one who started dragging me under your nose to begin with. She would be happy for us. She’s maybe the only person who would be happy for us. Everyone else thinks I’m on the fast track to heartbreak, but hell, maybe they’re right and she’s the one who doesn’t get it.”
Instead of responding sensibly or trying to disengage my burst of emotion, Rafe fires back with his own, “Felix, you mean. Felix thinks you’re on the fast track to heartbreak.”
I can only stare at him, wide-eyed. That’s too close to verbatim to be a coincidence. “What, were you eavesdropping?”
“There’s security footage on the bar. You acted weird around him, I wanted to know why.”
Now my jaw joins my eyes in their expressions of disbelief. “Are you serious? You spied on me?”
“Damn right, I spied on you,” he states, like that’s a normal thing to do.
“That’s… I don’t even know what to say,” I manage, completely at a loss. “That’s not only an invasion of my privacy, it’s insulting. All you had to do was ask me what he said, and I would have told you.”
“Well, you can tell me what you were thinking when you stood there awkwardly, like you owed him some kind of explanation for fucking me. Do you two have a history?”
Shaking my head in more than mild disbelief, I say, “What? No, we don’t have a history. I was thinking that he’s a good waiter. I was thinking that given his level of efficiency, we should train him to work the floor, too, because he’s good at up-selling, and he would make you more fucking money. That’s what I was thinking. I was thinking about you, like always.”
“Right,” he says, his tone heavily skeptical. “Of course you were.”
Summoning all the patience I have in my heart right now, I remind myself that Cassandra did a number on him, that she damaged his ability to trust, and that it’s not his fault. There has been no one since her. He has not learned to trust again. The closest thing to a relationship he
has had since was Laurel, and she didn’t love him, she loved Sin. I don’t blame her for it, Rafe’s bad behavior is what pushed her away from him in the first place, but judging from the abruptness of them being over and her living with Sin, I assume there was some sneaking around. Some behavior that further damaged his already dented trust in women.
“Rafe, I have no reason to lie to you about other guys. You know that. Logically, you know that. I’m not Cassandra. I’m nothing like her. I think she was a terrible person, and I would never in a million years do what she did. I would never hurt you. I would rather take the pain on myself than ever give it to you. I’ve spent four years watching you fuck everyone but me, for God’s sake. You have to know I have your best interest at heart. That hasn’t changed just because you put your dick inside me.”
I expect—hope—for my logical words to ease his irrational concerns, but instead of anything like relief, instead of accepting that I’m someone he can trust, someone he can finally have a healthy relationship with, he shoves a hand through his hair and looks down at the ground. “I think this was a mistake.”
My whole system freezes. The cogs in my mind jolt to a stop, my poor heart—I don’t know how I’m ever going to make all this up to that poor organ. It feels like my legs are sandbags, and I can’t move a muscle in my useless body.
“I know it was my mistake,” he adds. “You tried to…”
He trails off, and I feel like queen of the fucking idiots. My chest is tight and I struggle to draw a breath. I had boundaries for Rafe, and this is why. For four long years, I knew that the only way I could keep him was to stay out of his bed, and for four years, that worked.
This is my fault. I knew better. I knew that sleeping with him would be a mistake, I just… I couldn’t resist him that night. He told me he needed me, and I believed him.
Tears burn behind my eyes, and I’ll die if they fall.
Nodding my head, I agree with him so I can get the hell out of here. “Yeah, I think it was, too. It’s fine. This is—I knew better. I’m just going to go home, and I’ll see you at the restaurant.”