Rafe (Inked Brotherhood 5) - Page 32

Deathmoth posters. I recognize Dakota at their center, Rafe in a corner, but I can’t remember the other guys. They’re pretty cool photos, black and white with red lettering.

A framed drawing hangs behind the easy chair—some sort of tribal design, with bold, black strokes and yellow dots. Made by ZM. Zane Madden? It’s beautiful. Simple and powerful. Looks like a devil’s head, fanged mouth open wide.

My neck prickles and heat spills down my back. I turn back around.

Rafe is peering at me from across the room, a hand clasped to the back of his neck, the intensity of his gaze hitting me like a laser beam.

“Nice place.” I clear my throat and move toward the sofa. “Live here alone?”

He blinks. “Yeah.”

I tug on my jacket to keep my hands busy. “Must be kinda lonely.”

“Yeah.” He shakes his head and a shadow flits over his face. “I guess it kinda is.”

Sadness grips me. I know the feeling. Raylin wasn’t much of a friend, but at least she was company.

“Why don’t you get a roommate?” Then I hear my own words and cringe. “I didn’t mean…”

He lifts a pale brow at me, and I blush again, because turning red like a tomato only once in the same evening just isn’t embarrassing enough.

“I’m not suggesting you take me as a roommate,” I clarify, mortified. “Didn’t realize it sounded so much like a come-on line.”

Both his brows lift. Hey, what do you know? I’ve caught him by surprise again. A good or a bad thing?

Good thing, I decide when he laughs. It’s a quiet laugh, head bent forward, hair falling in his eyes. A rich sound, deep and resonant, that makes me want to laugh, too.

“You had a roommate. This Raylin, right?” He’s grinning at me, killer dimples and all, and I swear my panties are melting.

“Yeah. She left without an explanation. I tried to contact her, but she never replied.”

“So you live alone now?”

I shrug. “I have Raf.”

“Raf?”

“A kitten.”

“Seriously?” He walks around the sofa, unzipping his jacket. He leans over to straighten a book on the low table—a History of Punk Rock. “He’s named after me?”

“Yeah. No! It’s a coincidence. Besides, he’s Raf, not Rafe.”

“You named him that?”

“He was named Horatio. How would you feel if you were called that?” I shudder.

Then I realize I’ve practically admitted I named the kitten after him, and clap a hand over my mouth.

Oh shit.

But Rafe is laughing again, his shoulders shaking as he stands up to his full height. “Yeah, Horatio wouldn’t suit me, either. Is he a ginger?”

“More blond than ginger. Kinda like you and—” I bite my lower lip viciously, to stop the flow of stupid words.

“Oh fuck.” His gaze lowers, focusing on my mouth and he takes a step toward me. His eyes darken. “Fuck, when you do that…”

He’s crowding me again, but nothing is stopping me from moving away this time. Only I don’t want to. I look up into his face, and my breathing stops. He’s like a golden god, the faint glow of the lamp casting shadows on his features.

Tags: Jo Raven Inked Brotherhood Romance
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