by Anne Conley
"I'm sorry, Grace, I wasn't thinking." Her friend came up behind her and hugged her. Bree's face abruptly turned mischievous.
“You do think he’s hot, don’t you?”
"Who?" Grace was still rummaging, so she didn't notice Bree's eyes cut toward the living room.
"Rafe." Bree's voice was a conspiratorial whisper.
"Oh. Um, yeah. He is." Finding the lip gloss, she leaned over Bree's dresser and applied it to her lips.
"I would go for it, except I think he's got his eyes on you." Bree sounded a little disappointed.
"Whatever." Having finished with the gloss, Grace turned to look at her friend, and saw that she was serious. "What do you mean?"
"Earlier this afternoon. I was watching him watch you. I think he likes you."
"Well, he's going to have to get over that. I've got Brad."
"I'll bet Rafe's better in bed."
Grace scoffed. "Good looks doesn't make a good lover, Bree."
"It can't hurt."
"Besides, Brad's not that bad in bed."
"I didn't mean that he was. I just meant that Rafe's probably better."
Rolling her eyes, Grace left her friend's room and trekked back across the house to find a pair of shoes. She noticed that Rafe hadn't moved, but his face had changed. His eyes were still closed, but his mouth quirked up into what Grace decided was a satisfied smirk. Almost as if he'd heard them talking about his sexual prowess. He couldn't have, they'd been whispering. He must be thinking of something else.
Picking out a pair of strappy heels, she declared herself ready just at the time that she heard a knock at the door. Walking out of her room, she saw that Rafe had answered it, and Brad and Rafe were gripping each other's hands in a shake that could only be construed as a pissing contest. Both of their forearms were veiny and corded from flexing, and Grace could only imagine the pressure being exerted in this particular handshake. Brad seemed to cave first, as he turned to her.
"Hey gorgeous. You ready for some dancing?" He walked over and wrapped Grace in his arms, kissing her possessively. It was a side of Brad she hadn't seen before, and she giggled inwardly at the testosterone swirling around the room.
He clutched her waist and turned to watch as Bree and Nicole came strutting into the living room.
"Everybody ready? I need to dance!" Nicole was obviously eager to get going, as she was already headed toward the door. Grace grabbed her tiny purse with the long strap, wrapped it around her body, and followed, Brad close behind her.
"Bree, toss Rafe your keys. He doesn't drink." Grace motioned to Rafe with her chin.
"You mean we have a designated driver moving in with us? Cool." She dropped her keys into Rafe's outstretched hand and followed Nicole outside. Rafe paused at the open door to allow Grace and Brad out, before turning to lock it and following everybody out to Bree's car.
Electonica music spilled out of the club when they arrived. Grace started bouncing almost immediately and turned to Brad.
"You're not going to dance with me, are you?" She was disappointed. Grace loved to dance, and Brad didn't.
"No, baby, I'm just going to watch you." Lowering his mouth to her ear, he said softly, "I love to watch you dance. It turns me on."
"You don't mind if she dances with other people, do you?" Rafe's voice was closer than Grace realized, and she looked up to see him directly behind Brad, looking at her with those amazing green eyes.
"Nope. I know who she goes home with." Brad's hand stroked her shoulder possessively, and Grace rolled her eyes at the display.
Bree joined in the conversation. "Brad's our cabana boy!"
He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I make sure all the girls have fresh drinks at all times. I'm not much for dancing, but I enjoy watching everybody have a good time."
They got through the line, and made it inside the club. Brad went to the bar to get drinks, while Rafe found a central spot to claim for rest periods, and the girls headed straight for the dance floor.
Grace allowed the beat of the music to take over her body. With the loud music, the harsh lighting, and the press of bodies, she couldn't think about anything but dancing. And she loved it. She moved her arms around her body, clutching herself and laughing out loud at the antics of Bree, who was shaking her butt with the music. Nicole was bouncing, too, but in a more subdued manner. She would let loose once she got a drink or two inside her, but Grace didn't want to wait. She needed to get the erotic images of her new roommate and his incredible eyes out of her head.
As if reading her thoughts, something icy touched her shoulder, and she turned to see the eyes in question gazing down at her. A tremble went straight to her toes, as a heated desire flared in her belly, and she took the drink he was offering. She realized she'd stopped dancing when she saw Rafe, so she forced herself to resume her bounce, as he leaned down to speak in her ear.
His spicy scent overwhelmed her, as she tried vainly to hear his words. Sheesh, he smelled so… "drink to you. He doesn't mind if I dance with you…" I could just take him… "…going home with Brad…" Those shoulders, I want to touch him so bad…
She heard the next words clearly.
"He said he doesn't mind you getting all worked up, because he reaps all the benefits. So…" Rafe's hands snaked out to her waist, clutching it gently, as his incredible eyes gazed into hers with the question.
She nodded and turned, leaning her body into his as they danced together amidst the crush of sweaty bodies. His hands on her waist didn't do much to diminish the licking flames of desire in her belly, but she managed to take a sip of her drink to try to cool the rising heat inside of her, as she felt the hard body pressed up behind her. Grace could feel his warm breath on the top of her head.
Her hands waved in the air, to the beat of the music, as his hands drew around her waist to her stomach, eliciting a gasp from her. Of its own volition, Grace's hand not holding her drink came down to rub his thigh. Oh… Up and down his thigh, her hand rubbed the muscle under his jeans, flexing with the beat. …My…
She felt his body groan behind her, a deep, rumble in his chest against her back, and his fingers flexed on her stomach. He pulled her closer to him, and leaned his head down. She could hear him inhale deeply near her neck, and it sent goosebumps up her arms and back. Dancing with Rafe was better than sex with Brad, any day.
Did she just think that? What was wrong with her? She cast a glance over at her boyfriend, who was watching her intently, an unreadable expression on his face. She tossed him a reassuring wink, and his face relaxed into an easy grin. He raised his glass to her in a toast from across the room, and she took a sultry sip of her own drink, hoping to make him remember who she was going home with. Rafe's breath on her neck was definitely getting her ready for Brad…
Grace had danced with other guys around Brad before. He honestly didn't mind. But none of the other guys had affected her the way Rafe was. His hands on her body, his breath on her neck, it all made it very difficult to concentrate on anything else.
They danced for a while, until she needed a fresh drink. She turned to him, and raised her glass, indicating she was going to the bar. He nodded, eyes intensely green on her.
At the bar, she expelled a deep breath while vying for the bartender's attention. A voice at her ear made her turn.
A tall, dark stranger gazed at her. "May I buy you a drink?"
She nodded. "I'm here with my boyfriend, but you can buy me a drink, if you want to."
The stranger pursed his lips and looked around her. "I don't see a boyfriend. Is it the man you were just dancing with?"
She shook her head. "No, Brad doesn't dance. That was my roommate."
His eyebrow quirked, and he smiled smugly. "What are you having?"
"Cranberry juice and Vodka." This guy was really gorgeous, and Grace wondered at her luck tonight. Brad was definitely going to get some later. These guys were getting her all kinds of hot and bothered.
"I'm Damien." He held out his hand, long
manicured fingers.
"Grace." She shook his hand and was surprised at the cool smoothness of it. This guy definitely had an office job. No calluses here.
"Can I dance with you? Will your boyfriend mind?"
She shook her head and took the drink from the bartender, following Damien out to the dance floor. He led her directly in front of Brad, turned her so she was flush against him, and began to writhe to the music.
Grace looked over at Brad and raised her eyebrows in a helpless gesture, while he sipped from his drink, staring at her over his glass.
Damien's hands were on her waist, then they traveled lower, fingers spread, to her thighs. They clutched the fabric of her skirt, bringing it up to expose skin.
Grace shook her body, bouncing to the beat, Damien's body bouncing with her.
"Your boyfriend is a lucky man," he said into her ear. His breath was cool, almost cold, and Grace gasped when his fingers touched her leg. They were downright icy. Damien smelled like smoke too. Like sulfur or something. He was definitely weird. She turned to look at him, and his arms stayed locked around her body, so she was riding his leg when she faced him. His dark eyes were deep and filled with desire. She felt as if she were sinking into black pools of tar.
She wasn't sure if it was the drinks, or the music, or what, but she had a sudden surreal experience, like she wasn't exactly inside her body. She was watching herself, dance with this man, and enjoy it, but she wasn't exactly herself.
A familiar green haze fell over her conscious, and a voice inside her head said, "Be careful, Grace."
Grace shook her head to clear it, and the green haze faded, but didn't entirely go away. Another voice inside her head said, "Have fun, Grace. Trust yourself." The second voice sounded a lot like Damien's voice, and his face looked down at her with a satisfied smile, sending a shudder through her body. His leg pressed against her, causing a hot pressure to build in her core, and his arms tightened, urging her against his hard body. She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her hip, and it alarmed her slightly. But when she looked into his face, something shifted inside her, making it alright somehow.
Damien's hands on her body were like nothing she'd ever known. They filled her with desire and an unquenchable need. Something about his hands made her desperate, somehow. She rode his leg to the beat of the music, his hands caressing her back, feeling the heat of desire as it flushed her body.
His fingers trembled as they crawled up her backside and across her back. She could feel his cool breath on her face, and she looked up at him to see eyes hooded with desire.
"Grace…" He mouthed her name. She couldn't hear it, but she could feel it rise through his chest. He lowered his mouth to her ear, “Want to get out of here?” His voice was seductive, and it sent a shiver through Grace, leaving her breathless. She could only shake her head at him.
Suddenly, she felt another presence behind her, and Damien's eyes clouded in anger. Another hard body pressed against her back, and Rafe's familiar hands came around her waist to her stomach. Grace was in a hot-guy sandwich, and she realized that Rafe was dancing, but stiffly, as if he was angry. She turned, awkwardly, still bouncing to the beat, and saw Rafe glaring over her shoulder at Damien, his green eyes flashing, jaw clenched.
Then he spoke, and a slightly guttural sound came from his clenched lips. "D'Khatsea aarkheku Oma-eyonea."
Damien seemed to melt away, his presence fading, as Rafe grabbed her hand and led her back to the table, her head spinning from the sounds that had just come out of his mouth.
"You're probably tired from dancing so much. Take a break?" His affable smile was back, but there was still a disturbing presence in his eyes.
"What language was that?" The confusion in Grace's voice matched her feelings at the moment. The surreal out-of-body feeling was gone, and she was breathless with its absence.
Rafe shrugged, nonchalantly and continued to lead her to the table.
She realized she was tired and sank into the chair next to Brad, as she looked at her drink. She needed a new one, but Rafe was already on it.
"I'll get this round." He left her and Brad at the table.
"My god, woman. You turn on every guy in this place," Brad said into her ear, clasping her hand to his lap, where she could feel his erection. She smiled at him, seductively, glad he wasn't mad.
"Yeah, that last guy was pretty…out there," she acknowledged, even though something attracted her to Damien.
"I sent Rafe in to get him off you. He seemed pretty willing to help out. I didn't care much for the way he looked at you." Brad smiled at her sheepishly.
"I thought you liked it when I danced?"
"I do. It's just that particular guy. There was something about him that I didn't like, that's all." He squeezed her hand. "Besides, I think you were getting a little too worked up out there. I wanted you to myself for a little while." He nuzzled her neck and nibbled on her ear, until she turned her head and kissed him. He responded, eager hands clutching her thigh and going around her waist. Grace could taste the liquor on his mouth and realized he had been sitting there, getting drunk while he watched her dance. One of his hands reached up to cup a breast, and he groaned into her mouth.
"When can we go home?" He mumbled against her mouth.
"When every body else is ready, you horn-dog," she giggled at him.
Brad broke away from her, gasping and needy. She could tell he was totally turned on and was more than willing to go home with him. After the dancing she'd done tonight, she was turned on, too.
Chapter Seven
Rafe lay in his bed, gazing at the ceiling, listening to Grace and Brad in the next room. He heard the murmurs, then the kisses, the sighs, the groans, then finally, the knocking of the bed against the wall, accompanied by Brad's grunts and Grace's moans.
He smiled to himself as he heard her fake the orgasm, but it was short-lived. She belonged to someone else. Never mind that Rafe knew she was thinking of him.
While she'd made love to her boyfriend, Rafe was inside her head. It gave him a small amount of pleasure to know that she thought of him that way, but he wanted more. It would come, though. His plan was in place, and taking effect.
He realized that he'd done it. He was living here, with her.
He'd infiltrated the lair, so to speak.
Rafe had actually managed to be alone with her for awhile today, and it felt great to spend so much time with her like that. He wanted to tell her everything, but he knew it was too soon. He just needed to bide his time for a little while, until he could tell her without her totally freaking out.
He understood the feelings he was having. Uriel had explained them to him. When he'd asked the Boss several years ago, if it was possible, the Boss had explained about the light and the dark feelings of love, but Rafe hadn't understood completely. Even after Uriel fell, Rafe didn't totally get it.
He was starting to understand, now.
Rafe had wanted to hurt Brad tonight. When he'd opened the door to him, Rafe wanted to punch him in the gut, to see him doubled over in pain. And he'd never wanted to hurt anyone before. The ever-present heat in his gut, when he was around Grace, had transformed to something malevolent when he'd met Brad.
Rafe was supposed to be the healer.
But all that was nothing compared to what he'd felt when the Deceiver had made a play at the club. Rafe had been so caught up in the exhilaration of dancing with Grace that he hadn't noticed him until Brad had said something. The smile had been wiped right off Rafe's face when he'd seen the "punk" Brad pointed out. There was no mistaking the evil intentions radiating off of the Deceiver. He should have been watching for him. Uriel had warned that he might come around.
The Deceiver always stirred the pot.
Rafe had been a part of Grace's life for three years, now. He'd first heard her cry after she lost the little boy Alex. He'd gone to her then, but she didn't realize it, and he'd been with her ever since, trying to make sure she didn't go throu
gh that loss again. Her cries had torn him into pieces. Rafe had talked to the Boss about it, but he'd just denied him, unwilling to help.
The truth was, Rafe wanted love. He had wanted it for centuries. Humans had sung about it, written poetry, painted pictures, and more recently, made movies. Throughout time, humans had both lived and died for love. Rafe only wanted to experience it.
Rafe had tried having sex, thinking that making love to women would create the emotion. But it didn't work that way. Sure, the act was enjoyable, like eating was, or sleeping. It was something to do, in order to appear more human, because all the humans did it. But it wasn't the real thing.
He'd talked to the Boss about that too. But at the time, He hadn't been interested in letting him go for love. Something had changed that, though. The Boss was giving them the choice, and Rafe knew what his would be.
He wanted to fall for Grace.
She lived to save people. Just as he was created to heal, Grace spent her days watching for people to get into trouble, so she could help them. Rafe had spent time with lifeguards before, as part of his job, and he knew that a lot of them were arrogant, much like Brad, the power of saving lives going to their heads.
But Grace wasn't as egotistical as most. Sure, she was proud of her life-saving skills, but it was different from overbearing arrogance of the others.
He hadn't even seen her until that day on the beach after she'd saved the man who fell from the jetty. Rafe had always just seen inside her head, watching her as she saved people, felt the emotion and adrenaline that coursed through her as she went through her motions. Rafe felt a kinship with her, some sort of connection. But when he'd finally seen her for the first time, his mouth had gone dry, as she emerged from the surf, dragging the man on the backboard, face etched with concentration. Water had beaded off her lithe body in rivulets, and her toned muscles bunched under her tanned skin.
She was absolutely breathtaking to look at.