Chapter 17
He chose the steak restaurant Allison had wanted to try out. During dinner, right in the middle of a delightful story Allison told about her favorite city to visit, Rafe’s cell rang. He was ready to let it go to voicemail when he recognized the caller.
Greg Whitlock. He excused himself and asked Allison to order the cheesecake dessert.
Once more, the job came first. Rafe sighed.
It had to be important for Greg to call.
The DEA agent was deep undercover in the same seamstress shop where Diana got her wedding gown altered.
He’d found out the real owner was Hernandez, not the woman listed as the owner.
The shop was yet another legitimate business laundering money for the drug lord.
“Rafe. Gotta make it quick.”
He could barely hear Greg inside the restaurant.
Soon as he got outside, the reception was better. “What is it?”
“Bad news. Marty Kingman got released. Lawyer flown in from Miami to bail him out.”
Hand tightening on his cell phone, Rafe tensed. “Has to be Hernandez’s personal attorney.”
“Our guys in Atlanta will put a tail on him, but it’s not a priority. They’re overwhelmed with a huge bust going down they’ve been working on for months. Field office can’t assign an agent until next week.”
“Any progress on deciphering the codes found in Kingman’s phone?”
“No, but our coding experts think it has to do with Paul and Diana’s wedding.
Clearly Hernandez wanted you checked out.
I did hear Hernandez say that Paul is wildly in love with Diana.
He will go to extremes to get whatever she wants.
This wedding at the mansion? It was Diana Lexington’s idea after they attended a cocktail party there. ”
It made sense. Paul was a sensible, quiet businessman who was low-key and never had a good relationship with his notorious uncle. Not until Diana came into his life.
He heard noise in the background, and then Greg whispered, “Gotta run. Watch yourself and the women. They’re still on Kingman’s list.”
“Thanks, man.”
He hung up, frustrated and worried. No one in his office had yet deciphered the code Kingman had assigned to their names on his cell phone. Diana was probably not in danger. But he knew Allison could be a target.
All the more reason to keep her close, and safe.
When he returned to the table, she was digging in the cherry cheesecake. Extra cherries on top and plenty of whipped cream. Half was gone already. Rafe swallowed hard as she closed her eyes and licked whipped cream off the fork. Oh, to be that fork under her sweet tongue...
Suddenly he understood Paul’s obsession with having Diana and granting her every wish. He felt the same way about Allison. Maybe it was like this, finally meeting a woman you’d risk everything for.
With her long brown hair loose, curled slightly at the ends, Allison looked fantastic tonight.
She wore a pink denim jacket with flowers and a white sleeveless blouse and pink jeans.
The jacket was off, and the blouse showed firm breasts and toned arms. Utterly feminine, yet he kept thinking of her strength and courage.
Never had a woman’s arms been a turn-on, but he stared at hers, thinking of her lifting patients, the tender way she’d stroked his sick grandmother’s forehead, the selfless dedication to saving lives. The long hours on her feet, hustling here and there to care for patients.
Right now all he wanted was to feel those arms, and legs, wrapped around his naked body.
Rafe finally found his voice as he resumed his seat. “Hey, leave some for me.”
Mirth sparkled in her brown eyes as she dug into the cake, leaned forward and lifted the fork to his mouth. Rafe’s lips encircled the utensil. The sweet, creamy dessert’s flavor burst with sweetness. He withdrew his mouth, chewed and swallowed.
He stared at her, the little pulse throbbing in her neck, the dilated pupils. Rafe slowly licked his lips.
“Delicious.”
“It is a great cheesecake.”
“I’m not talking about the dessert.” Hell, he couldn’t help staring at her lush mouth, his need to feel her soft lips growing stronger by the minute.
She vexed and intrigued him, and Rafe craved her like a drug. Forget any opioids trafficked by Hernandez and his cronies. Allison was more addictive and intoxicating. He felt alive and aware in her presence, all his pleasure receptors flaring to life.
It took all his carefully won control not to leap across the table and take her into his arms, kiss her senseless, then sweep her back to his room with the soft sheets and tip her back naked on the mattress and have his way with her.
He had no conceit, but he knew he was a good lover, always making sure his partner experienced plenty of pleasure before he finished.
But damn, Allison brought forth all kinds of raging passion inside him.
No more gentle lover. All his fiery need would release with her, the need to conquest and dominate and claim, like a caveman marking her as his own.
So much for civilized sex.
“You okay? You’re flushed.” Allison leaned forward, looking concerned.
Rafe swallowed hard, trying to chase away the image of a nude Allison writhing with pleasure beneath him.
“Fine.” When did his voice grow so hoarse? “But I have to tell you, I’m sitting here having all kinds of fantasies about you right now.”
Now or never. Allison’s eyes widened. “What kind of fantasies?”
“You. Me. Naked. In bed all night.” Had he added a deep grunt, like a caveman, he couldn’t have made his intent clearer.
Her wild gaze whipped around, and for a heart-stopping moment, he feared he’d gone too far.
Spotting the waiter, she waved like a drowning woman flagging down a lifeboat. “Waiter! A box and the check please. We’re in a hurry.”
While the waiter scurried off, she pointed to her backpack. “I hope like hell you brought condoms, Rodriguez, because I didn’t.”
Rafe laughed. What a woman. “No worries. I came prepared.”
Uncertainty flickered on her face. “So you planned to get lucky with some woman on this trip?”
Ally, don’t do that to yourself. Rafe reached for her hand and caressed it. “Not some woman. You. You’re the one I wanted, Allison. For a long time now.”
* * *
Once inside his hotel room, she felt frantic to climb into bed with him. But Allison realized Rafe had different ideas.
She kicked off her shoes when he pulled her into his arms. Rafe leaned forward and cupped her face. Slowly, so slowly, his mouth descended upon hers. Firm and commanding, yet gentle and warm, oh, so warm and amazing.
Oh wow, the man knew how to kiss.
Crazy. She’d dreamed of kissing him. Such a kiss haunted her at night when she slipped into sleep and had the good sex dreams, the ones you never wanted to go away.
The ones that left her aching and sweating and needy, but they were better than the awful emptiness of not having anyone or anything to look forward to.
Such a kiss would be life-changing. Her bar was set too high; her expectations too much.
This was what it was like to kiss someone you truly cared about, even if you only admitted it in your dreams. This was a kiss she never wanted to end, sensations she sank into deeper and deeper.
It was hot and sweet and spicy all rolled together.
Allison slid her arms around his neck, never wanting to surface for air, never wanting it to end like her dreams did.
This was much better than any dream. This was real and she felt every nuance, every subtle slide of his lips over hers, sealing them together as if they drew breath from each other.
When they broke apart, they stared at each other. A pulse beat madly at the base of his throat. Rafe looked like he barely clung to control. This wasn’t a guy who hesitated at going after what he wanted.
He went full steam ahead and right now, he wanted her.
The thought made her heady with power as they unzipped and unbuttoned and shed their clothing.
When she was fully naked, he pushed her gently back onto the bed. “I want you so much,” he said in a thick voice. “I can barely wait. But damn, Ally, I’ve wanted this for so long, I want the night to last. I need to make it special.”
Then he spread her legs open.
Rafe opened the take-out box he’d placed on the nightstand and dipped his fingers into the dessert. He held up the whipped cream and a bright, shiny cherry.
“Dessert. Never got mine.”
Oh boy, this was going to be good. She shivered a little as he smeared the cream over her vagina, and then added the gooey cherry.
Then he put his mouth on her. Slow, even strokes, expert little flicks of his tongue.
“Mmm,” he murmured.
Every movement of his mouth built the pleasure higher and higher. Suddenly he stopped and lifted his head.
“Shall I continue, mi angel?” he inquired.
“Oh, my sweet buttered biscuit, don’t stop,” she gasped, arching her back. “Please, Rafe, don’t stop. I’m gonna die.”
Licking whipped cream off his lips, he grinned the wicked grin of promise of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. “No, mi angel. Not until I send you over the edge.”
His mouth descended on her soft flesh again.
Allison moaned, grabbing fistfuls of sheet.
Her hips automatically pumped in response to the motions of his mouth, readying her for the ultimate act of penetration.
Sensing her frantic whimpers, he increased the pressure subtly, faster, harder, stroking her closer to the edge until sensations exploded between her legs.
With a sharp cry of his name, she came hard, seeing stars behind her closed eyelids. The sweet throbbing in her loins continued as he lazily finished with a slow kiss.
When she finally came back down to earth, Allison opened her eyes. He flicked out his tongue. On it was the cherry from the cheesecake. Rafe popped it back into his mouth, gave another teasing grin.
As he chewed and swallowed, he winked. “Got your cherry.”
Laughter burst out of her. He was naughty and so much fun. Hell, she hadn’t enjoyed an evening like this in ages.