Love Me If You Dare (Bachelor Blogs 2)

The way she liked it.

Didn’t she?

“Rafe, a word?” Pirro walked over and pulled Rafe aside.

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

Sara nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“No, no. You come, too. You’re part of this,” Pirro said. He adjusted his baseball cap by the brim and led them to the far corner of the yard.

“I’m glad you came by. I have something for you.”

“We came to check on you,” Rafe said. “I’m glad to see you’re surrounded by family and doing well. Last night was rough.”

“About last night.” Pirro pulled his cap off and looked Rafe in the eye. “I know I’m embellishing the story a little.”

Sara grinned. “Not by much.”

Rafe shot her a grateful look.

“What else can I do? Tell my wife I was so scared I brought up her dinner all over that animal’s shoes?” Pirro asked, his face flushed red with embarrassment.

Rafe shook his head. “It’s our secret, I promise. Want to know another secret?”

Pirro raised an eyebrow.

“The first time I shot someone, I wet my pants.”

“Really?” Pirro asked.

Rafe inclined his head. “Let’s go back and celebrate, okay?”

Pirro nodded. “Okay. But first, here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of blue pills. “Here. My final illegal stash. I made an appointment with my doctor for Monday. I’ll get them from him.”

Rafe put his hand on Pirro’s shoulder. “That’s a wise decision.”

“Wiser than the ones I’ve made so far. And I wanted you to know I realize that now. I’m grateful to both of you for getting me out of the mess I made, and I wanted to give you the last of them.” Pirro closed Rafe’s hand around the pills.

“You’re a brave man, Pirro DeVittorio,” Sara said. “I’m honored to know you.”

And she meant it.

“I feel the same way about you, Sara Rios.”

Rafe placed one hand on each of their shoulders and led them back to the party, where Pirro rejoined his wife.

Rafe turned to Sara. “Do you have a place to hold these until I can safely get rid of them?”

She held out her hand, and he poured them into her palm. She slid them into the pocket of her shorts.

For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, they mingled with Pirro and Vivian’s guests and ended up staying for a barbecue. Sara spent a good amount of time with Mariana, listening to Rafe’s mother tell her stories about when he was a young.

To everyone’s surprise, Nick arrived with Angel, and they both appeared to be in a good mood. Despite her usual pessimism about relationships, Sara still held out hope for the couple.

The beer and wine flowed, and by the time the night drew to a close, Sara was lightly buzzed and definitely enjoying herself.

“Ready to go?” Rafe pulled her against him and whispered in her ear.

All thoughts of the party and guests fled in favor of enjoying Rafe and whatever time they had left.

She leaned into him and nuzzled her lips against his neck. “Lead the way.”

They said their goodbyes, which as usual when among his family took longer than either of them would have liked.

Until finally, he threaded his fingers through hers and tugged on her arm. “Let’s go home.”

Ripples of yearning rushed through her, not just for Rafe, but for the word he’d uttered and the elusive feeling of belonging that was always just out of reach.

RAFE SPENT THE next few days as if they were his last. He spent the hours eating, sleeping, sailing, making love with Sara—and waiting for the call that would send her home. But as the days passed without a word from New York, he stopped thinking about it and began to live in the fantasy that this could last.

Early afternoon, he returned from doing a few errands to find Sara sitting on the couch, his favorite blanket pulled over her legs, and a tub of ice cream in her lap as she ate from the carton. Jeopardy was on the television and Sara called out questions between spoonfuls of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie–flavored ice cream.

Locking the door behind him, he tossed his keys on the counter and strode into the room. “Is there enough to share, or should I grab my own?” he asked.

Her gaze darted between him and her favorite snack. “You can share,” she said begrudgingly.

He ignored her obvious reluctance to share. Instead, he grinned and, in a split second, crossed the room and jumped into the spot next to her on the couch.

“Well?” he held out a hand for the utensil.

An adorable pout settled on her lips as she spooned out a small bit of ice cream, but she didn’t hand it to him. She held out the spoon for him to eat from it.

He opened his mouth and let her feed him.

She then went back to her own mouthfuls.

“That’s it? That’s all I get?”

She tipped her head to one side. “Do you really want to come between me and my Chocolate Fudge Brownie?”

“Do you really want to make me beg?”

“Begging’s good.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Taking what I want is much better.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He plucked the carton from her hands and placed it on the table, then came over to her, swiping his tongue over her lips and finally sealing his mouth on hers. He teased the seam of her closed lips until she opened and he thrust his tongue inside, taking all the Chocolate Fudge Brownie he desired.

His yearning grew, desire building as the passionate lip-lock went on and on, all the seductive powers he possessed going into this one kiss. She writhed beneath him and let out a low moan of appreciation. Then, wrapping her arms around his neck, she fully participated in sharing her beloved ice cream with sexy nibbles of her teeth and hot laps of her tongue.

She didn’t seem in any rush to take things further, and he was enjoying the playful moment too much to rush them. He deepened the kiss, and his body pressed against hers, his hips settling between her thighs, increasing the sensation of his hard erection throbbing in his jeans and pulsing against her soft, feminine body.

He wound his tongue around hers, thrusting in and out, mimicking the most intimate sexual act until their bodies began to rock in unison to the same tempo. His hips wound in circles, thrusting against her, harder and harder, until she began to pant and moan beneath him. Rafe didn’t know how he’d hold back, but he’d damn well try, and he pumped his hips into hers, attempting to give her the pleasure she sought, the orgasm that was so obviously within reach.