“Let me show you the rest,” I suggest and lead her through the living area to the bedrooms. “I only have the two bedrooms, but I think this is a comfortable space.”
I don’t mention that I had the guest room furnished last week and decorated to her tastes.
“Beautiful,” she says with a nod.
“There’s a bathroom right over here. That’s all yours.”
“Okay. Where’s your room?”
“This way.” I lead her down the hall to my bedroom and swallow hard. Jesus, just having her in my place is hard enough, but in my bedroom? How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?
“This is huge,” she says with a laugh and checks out my closet. “You don’t have much in here. It looks empty.”
“I’m a dude. I don’t need much.”
“All this space is just going to waste.” She clucks her tongue and then pokes her head into the bathroom. “And look at that tub!”
“I can’t complain about the tub,” I agree and watch with a smile as she gets right into it, clothes and all, and lounges back as if she’s taking it for a test drive.
“This is sweet.”
“Like you.”
Her grin turns soft as she gazes up at me. “Rafe?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I don’t want to sleep in the guest room?”
I lean back on the vanity and cross my arms over my chest. “Well, I have a couch.”
Her eyes fill with humor. “What if I want to sleep in your room?”
“I suppose that could work. Of course, that’s where I sleep, so you’ll have to share the bed with me.”
She laughs and pulls herself up, then climbs out of the tub.
“That works for me.” She crosses to me, takes my hands in hers, and tilts her lips up toward mine.
I never could resist this woman.
And now I don’t have to.
I close my mouth over hers, gently sampling her. She tastes of the mint she had in the car, but more than that, she tastes of Annika. Like everything good in the world.
I lay my palm over her jaw, encompassing her neck and cheek, and take the kiss deeper, wanting to memorize every nuance. Each breath.
She sighs and leans into me, surrendering to me. Her breasts press against me, and I want to scoop her up and take her to bed—lose myself in her for several hours.
And I will.
Eventually.
“Rafe?”
“Yes, baby?”
“You kept asking me in those other condos if it felt right. If it was the place for me.”
“I did.”
“This is the one. Right here. This feels right.”
I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding all day.
“I feel it, too.”
Her smile is slow and full of pure female satisfaction. “Good.”
Chapter 9
~Annika~
We didn’t have sex. I thought we would the first night I was in his place, but it didn’t happen. We ended up ordering in Chinese food and talked for hours, the way we used to when we were kids and falling in love.
That’s not to say that just because we didn’t do the deed, that he didn’t touch me. No, Rafe is the king of physical affection. There was plenty of hand-holding and hair-playing. He kissed me some and traced his fingers down my cheek and over my jawline.
It’s safe to say that he kept me in a constant state of pleasant arousal all day and into the evening.
And when we finally went to bed, we curled up together, fully clothed, and whispered into the night.
As much as I can’t wait to get naked with this man, I have to admit that our first night together was exactly what I needed.
I stretch and roll over in bed, expecting to find Rafe next to me, but the bed is empty. And when I reach out to touch where he lay, the bedsheets are cool.
He’s been up for a while.
I sit up, yawn, scratch my arm, and glance around. Rafe’s place is nice. It’s not fancy, and he certainly hasn’t done much to make it look like anything but a bachelor pad, but it’s super clean and updated. I can’t wait to get my hands on that kitchen.
I shuffle sleepily into the bathroom with the best tub I’ve ever seen and consider taking a bath, when it occurs to me that I smell…bacon.
Is he making us breakfast?
I hurry through the condo to the kitchen and stop short at the sight that greets me.
Rafe, shirtless with a white towel flung carelessly over his shoulder. His skin is smooth and tanned, and the muscles beneath bunch as he moves from the stove to the mixing bowl on the countertop.
He’s just so…hot. He’s big, at well over six feet, with broad shoulders. But his movements are graceful. Those clever hands crack an egg into a bowl, and he gives it a whisk.
He’s so competent in the kitchen, it’s as if he makes breakfast every morning of the week.