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“Listen.” I pull his hands out of his pockets to hold them as I look him in the eye. “I’m not afraid anymore. Haven’t been in a while. Not when I have you by my side. When I have our friends. I know our baby will grow up safe and surrounded with love.”
“You telling me the truth?” He searches my face for clues.
“Yes. I’m so happy with you and our baby. So stop worrying about me.” I lift his hands, kiss his knuckles. “Stop worrying so much, Rafe. You can’t fix everything.”
“I know.” He nods, his gaze going distant. “I keep telling myself that. That I shouldn’t worry about not training the guys regularly, that they can take care of themselves. That I shouldn’t wonder what happened to Colt, the guy I met in the illegal fight club, the one who helped me find my father’s killer. He’d been looking for a girl, and sometimes I think… that I should have done more for him. Or not. That it’s time I got over the guilt over my family’s death and moved on.”
“And can you?” I wait breathless for his reply.
“I can try,” he whispers. “If you’re happy, and Zane is safe, then… then I can try.
***
After picking up our son from a rather tired-looking Seth, we head home. Zay is asleep the moment we drive away from Damage Control, and he doesn’t even wake up when Rafe lifts him out of the car seat and carries him up to the apartment.
I unlock and follow Rafe inside where he lays Zay in his crib and covers him up with his blue blanket.
Then he turns around and picks me up, swinging me up in his strong arms.
“Rafe!” I hiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and trying not to squeal as he carries me into our bedroom. I squirm, bolts of heat spearing through my center.
Can’t deny that it’s hot when he takes control like this.
When he lowers me to the bed, I don’t let go of him. I tug him down to me and he comes willingly, covering my body with his. I need him. I want him.
To hell with not being sure, with waiting longer.
I kiss him, sliding my hands down his arms, gripping his taut biceps, lifting my hips. Needing to feel him.
“What do you want?” he whispers against my lips, his breathing harsh, and I feel him hardening against me.
“You.” I spread my legs wider, feeling my skirt bunching up around my hips, and his hard-on is a branding iron pressed to my seam. “Please…”
He grunts, crushing his mouth to mine, the kiss brutal and deep and searing. Yes. I pull him against me, closer, falling into the kiss, loving the way his big, strong body weighs on top of mine, the way his hand clutches the back of my head and keeps me in place while he uses his tongue to find and stroke every sensitive spot in my mouth.
Just when I think I’ll come just from being kissed and the feel of his hard cock pressed between my legs, he pulls back, breaking the kiss and drawing a ragged breath.
His golden eyes hold me still, the heat in them a tangible thing as he drops them to my breasts. “Meg…”
“God, I want you.” I scratch at his shirt, needing it off. “Take me.”
He all but tears my clothes to shreds after that. He hauls my blouse off, drags down the straps of my bra until my breasts are bare, and he bends his head to them, sucking on them, hard. It’s good, it’s perfect, and I want more. My hips lift restlessly.
“Take off your clothes,” I whisper. “Take them off.”
He growls against my nipple, making me shudder, then he sits back and whips his shirt off in one movement. I hear fabric tear, buttons tinkle where they fall to the floor. He undoes the clasp of his belt and the leather whispers as he pulls it through the loops of his jeans.
Then he’s pushing those down, toeing off his boots, his socks, everything, and he kneels between my legs, naked and gorgeous, his cock so hard it makes my mouth water.
“What now?” he rasps, his gaze dark with lust, his small nipples bunched up. His cock bobs against his flat stomach, the piercings glinting.
Licking my lips, I unclasp my bra and take it off, then wiggle out of my skirt. My shoes thump to the floor, and I swallow hard when his gaze trails down between my legs, where I’m exposed and wet for him.
He doesn’t ask anything, doesn’t speak. He moves over me, every movement sure and powerful, like a golden lion stalking his prey. His cock drags over my body, leaving a hot, wet trail, as he attacks my mouth again, eating at my lips, his tongue thrusting between my lips, making me tremble with desire.
“I wanna fuck you so badly,” he groans against my mouth, and I pant, running my hands over his muscular body. “Fill you up. Make you come so hard.”
“God, yes.” I love it, how his polite manners are forgotten, his need stripped raw for me to see.
