Nothing.
I swallow. “I’ll just stand here quietly and wait for Rafe.”
“There you go,” he says, since I finally picked the right option.
Thankfully, Rafe comes back in. There’s an air of command in the way he sweeps across the room, so coolly confident of his own control. He’s not even trying and I already feel my insides beginning to melt.
“Your little girlfriend here has a big mouth,” Sin states, upon Rafe’s entrance.
Rafe smirks and comes to my side, sliding his hand down to the small of my back and tugging me against his hard body. “I have no complaints about Laurel’s mouth.”
God, that voice.
Wanna play with me, kitten?
I throb between the legs as memories flash through my mind from Easter, me kneeling on the floor in front of him, the incredible cock he possesses right in front of my face, but I wasn’t allowed to have it yet. I looked up at him, so strong, so self-possessed, so beautiful. His big hand brushed my jaw tenderly as that sexy voice commanded evenly for me to beg him.
My heart thuds dully in my chest and I lick my lips, trying to stay focused. His hand presses me closer and my heart sinks into my stomach, still beating like a drum.
I hear Sin’s voice but I can’t make out words. Rafe is smiling down at me, still pleasantly. He dips his head to kiss me. At the mere brush of his perfect lips, the part of my brain that’s still working goes into standby mode.
His lips are so tender while his grip in my hair adds just a touch of roughness. I can scarcely breathe, but I open my mouth for him and his tongue sweeps in. My whole body dissolves in a pit of raging flames. I’ve lain awake so many nights thinking about his touch, his kiss, how it felt to have him inside me. It may have been the biggest mistake of my life, but it was the best one, too.
My blood begins to cool, cold fear moving down my spine as I remember why I’m here. This isn’t a booty call. I’m not here for kisses or dinners; I’m here to tell him…
Fuck. I’m here to tell him I’m pregnant.
Now this Sin guy is here. He already doesn’t like me, so I’m not going to bring it up in front of him.
I’m ushered out to a sleek black sedan with tinted windows and a front grill that seems somehow angry. Clearly this car belongs to Sin; it’s as welcoming as its owner. I can’t help flicking a glance at the back of the car, my thoughts turning to the trunk. I bet it would be hard to shove a body into a trunk.
Rafe opens the back door for me and I slide in. I don’t know why, but I expect him to sit up front with Sin, who is apparently driving. The front is a place I associate with the people in charge, and the back is for passengers. Only, Rafe slides in right next to me and pulls the door shut.
Now that we’re both inside, his arm snakes behind me, curving around my shoulders, and he tugs me into his chest. I’m immediately flooded with how safe I felt there, nestled against his chest back in Chicago.
“So, how’s school going?” he asks.
“Well,” I tell him. “I made the dean’s list.”
He offers up a smile that makes me feel almost prouder than the accomplishment itself. “Look at you, preparing to set the world on fire.”
Even though I’m flattered, I find myself saying, “It’s not a big deal. It’s easy to make the dean’s list. Just show up to class and stay awake.”
“I doubt it’s that easy. If it is for you, I doubt it’s that easy for everyone,” he says, simply.
I begin to lose focus on his words, though, as his fingertips move ever so lightly over the swatch of exposed skin around my collar bone. I wore a gray off-the-shoulder shirt today, so there’s a good bit of skin available for him to touch without undressing me.
I recall him doing this when I was nervous in the bedroom that first night in Chicago. For all that I decided to go all-in and follow him to his bedroom for my first one-night-stand, once I got there, my nerves crawled back out. No longer drunk on the sight of him holding a baby or the general crush of Morelli Kool-Aid I must have been chugging while I was at Mateo’s giant house, going to bed with the sexiest man ever seemed mildly terrifying. Rafe settled my nerves effortlessly with his little finger-tracing trick.
Now he does it again and my inhibitions slip away, my tether to sensation strengthening and overtakin
g my knowledge that I’m in a car and we’re not alone. It’s not that I don’t know that, it just seems so much less important than where his hand might go next.
His index finger dips inside my shirt, sliding toward my breast. My breath quickens, but it’s gone just as fast. I bring my eyes to his face and see a faint smile tugging at the corners of his luscious lips. He’s teasing me, the bastard. I open my mouth to say something, but seeing an opening, he takes it. Rafe’s lips claim mine, his hand sliding up to cup my neck so he can draw me closer. Everything outside of him feels fuzzy and unimportant, no longer part of my reality.
I should be buckled in, but I’m not. I should keep my ass in my seat, but I don’t. All it takes is a firm palm pushing against my hip and my fuzzy mind recognizes his wordless command to straddle him. Without breaking away from his lips, I climb on his lap, facing him. Still with the one hand on my neck, he settles the other on my waist. Blood rushes through my veins, racing toward my vagina. Everything throbs and I grind against him, pleased by the tightening of his hands on my body and the way he pulls me against him to feel how hard he is.
Pleasure courses through me. It’s like an aphrodisiac in and of itself, being wanted by him. I have the hardest time not ripping his clothes off, but I settle for undoing the top button of his dress shirt and sliding my hand inside. As soon as my hand connects with his firm, muscled chest, I feel like I’m on fire. Then he draws my bottom lip between his and sucks on it, sending shooting stars of pleasure through my not-at-all-prepared body.