Oh holy shit. My heart is trying to break through my ribcage. This so very bad. Zane was right to be worried. Did he even realize how close Rafe might have come to giving up?
But I’m not giving up on him. I’ll drag him back from the edge, remind him life is worth living. I’ll do my best. Because this boy tugs at my heartstrings with every word, every move. It’s crazy how badly I want to see him happy.
As I pull him out of the elevator before the doors close again and tug him toward my door, he’s silent. I unlock my door and we enter the apartment.
Raf the kitty meows from the coffee table, then hisses and jumps away, probably catching a whiff of Rafe. Pressed so close to him, I’m aware of his scent—spice, musk, and the coppery tang of blood, but his clothes are soaked and filthy. A shiver goes through his frame.
“Shower?” I barely wait for his acknowledging nod before I lead him in that direction. I need to check his body for injuries, get him warm, then figure out how to talk to him.
He comes along gamely, his boots thumping on the tiles, and lets me push him down on the closed toilet seat. I tug his jacket off, then his sweater and T-shirt, take a moment to take in his muscled, inked torso. His pecs and abs flex as
he leans back. Mottled bruising on his side catches my eye. A lot of it.
Crap.
Almost lost him. I have to fight the urge to grab him and wrap myself around him until I’m sure he’s here, alive and well.
I shrug off my jacket, toe off my shoes and kneel down to unlace his boots. They’re splashed in mud and the bathroom will be hell to clean, but it’s the last thing on my mind right now. I’m tugging on one wet boot when I feel his hand on my hair.
“Meg?” His voice is raspy with exhaustion.
“Let me take care of you.” I pull off one boot, then the other. Socks, then I place my elbows on his thighs and look up at him. “My turn.”
He looks confused, but his gaze darkens with something else as he runs his knuckles over my cheek.
Rough patches catch on my skin as he does so. My pulse jumps. I catch his hand, study his blood-encrusted knuckles. He has dirt under his fingernails. A cut on his forearm is oozing blood.
I put his hand to my cheek, turn it over to kiss his palm, and see his eyes turn to dark bronze.
“I’m so glad you came here,” I whisper. “So thankful you didn’t step in front of that car. Oh God, I’m so thankful.”
“I changed my mind,” he whispers, and a faint glimmer of hope makes me hold my breath.
“Why?”
“Wanted to see you.”
My heart twists in my chest. Oh crap, I’m going to cry like a baby.
“You can always come to me,” I say, my voice cracking. “Always. When you feel you can’t go on. Just call me, okay?”
He takes a moment to reply. “Okay,” he whispers.
I put his hand down, bend over to cover my face, and set about undoing his pants. I drag them down his muscular legs, then reach for his briefs.
“Shit,” he mutters, staring down at me, golden eyes wide. They dip to my breasts, and I’m suddenly aware I’m practically flashing him. The cleavage of my blouse is gaping wide and I’m not even wearing a bra.
Holy shit, more like. He’s completely hard, his piercings clearly outlined in the soft material of his underwear. He tenses when I reach for him, and sucks in a sharp breath when I pull down the black briefs, freeing his erection.
He moans and another shiver shakes him. His hand lifts to my hair and his fingers tangle in my long tresses, but he says nothing as I study his aroused body. The first time I saw his erect cock I was a little bit scared. He’s big, thick and long, curving up toward his ripped stomach, and with those piercings…
Now all I feel is excitement. Heat rushes through my body, and a throb starts deep inside my belly. The urge to touch him is so strong, my hand lifts of its own accord and I trail my fingertips down his hard length.
His cock fascinates me. I touch the crown and watch wetness spill from the small slit and roll down the sides, wetting my fingers.
“Meg…” he groans.
I glance up. His eyes are heavy-lidded, his mouth slack. He gives a slow blink when I follow the path of one drop of precum down his shaft to his balls, and his stomach muscles tense, showing off those mouthwatering washboard abs.