Chapter 15
A lexandra
Raphael followed me into the trees to the park’s stone wall. He offered a hand, but I didn’t take it. In the boat, I’d had the strongest urge to lean in and kiss the man, and it had taken almost everything in me to resist.
The dip in the water worked wonders to cool me off.
I climbed to the first branch.
Raphael watched me, something obviously on the tip of his tongue. He had already given me a game plan for getting back. A taxi would meet us on the road the other side of the wall. Any words we had left to say to each other in private needed to be now.
“At the garden party, I saw ye react to something. I don’t want to overstep, but it’s played on my mind. I wouldn’t be a good bodyguard if I didn’t ask.”
Right. We’d reverted to our roles, then. “What did I react to?”
“A display of paintings.”
Good God. His powers of observation knew no bounds. “I used to paint.”
“As of…?”
“A week ago.”
“Why did ye stop?”
Another branch and I’d straddled the wall. He tapped my foot to remind me to wait for him there—his solution to not leaving me unprotected on either side.
“Let’s just say I discovered I was a terrible artist and it was the wake-up call no one else had the guts to give me.”
In a scramble, Raphael was beside me. He scanned the road and came back to me, his eyebrows merged in an expression of concern, and his shirt clinging to that insanely toned body.
We were both soaked. No doubt wearing a layer of grime from the lake as well. I didn’t regret it. Not after it had awarded me the sight of him half-naked. That image was branded in my brain, adding to the previous time he’d stripped his shirt for me.
It had the bonus of helping me distance myself from feeling bad about my art.
“How well did ye trust the opinion of the naysayer?”
I tilted my head. “They were strangers.”
“Were any a talented art critic?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“So what gave them the right?”
I huffed, trying to pull together the errant parts of my reasoning. “It was an exhibit. Everyone there had an interest in art in some way. The woman didn’t know the painting was by me, but she called people over to say how awful it was.”
Recognition flared in his eyes. “This was my first job with ye. I saw something happen but couldn’t work out what. Ye put a painting in the exhibition? Which one?”
I groaned. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“Do it anyway?”
My sigh came heavily, and yet I still found my phone and the hidden folder with pictures of my paintings. I scrolled to the right one, and with a tight stomach, offered it out. Raphael’s fingertips grazed mine. But it was his rapt attention that grabbed me.
He studied the screen then lifted his gaze. “This is fucking good.”
I went to take it back. He pulled his hand away, keeping my phone.
“Can I swipe to see the others?”
“If you must.”
His gaze linked to mine. Fresh energy fizzed between us.
“I’ll only do it if ye ask.”
How the heck did that turn so dirty in my head? Flustered, I gestured for him to proceed. “Please.”
Raphael took his time over examining each. He didn’t say anything, and with each swipe, I leaned in more, wishing I could read his mind.
At last, that serious brown-eyed gaze was mine again. “You’re a damn good artist. If I ever find the people who said otherwise, I’ll make them wish they didn’t.”
A shiver ran over me. I’d needed those words, and in a rush of certainty, I knew I wouldn’t have trusted them from anyone other than him. It shouldn’t have made sense, except Raphael had proved himself inherently trustworthy, despite the short amount of time we’d spent together. It wasn’t that alone. Desire and energy poured into me.
I wetted my lips.
On the wall between us, his phone buzzed.
He glanced down. “Fuck. Car’s here.”
The moment was over. Raphael became all action, jumping down the wall and helping me to descend after. Then we were in the car and perched on the edge of the leather seats, hoping the driver wouldn’t notice we were leaving a water mark.
In minutes, we were outside the gates of Ossington Palace. Raphael flagged down one of the guards to see me inside, quietly telling me I’d be vulnerable the moment I left the car.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
Inside my rooms, I showered off the lake water, shampooing my hair twice to make sure it was clean. For bed, I changed into my favourite t-shirt, then dropped down onto my mattress and checked my phone.
A message waited from Raphael. He’d sent his number.
Highlandspilot: In case you need to call me.
I saved him as a contact then replied with mine. Somehow, messaging him properly with real names felt like we’d moved on a step.
Alex: In case you need someone to night swim with in murky lakes.
Raphael: If ever you want a dip somewhere that isn’t going to poison us, I know a place.
My stomach fluttered with those damn butterflies again. Logic told me that what I’d felt this evening had been one-sided. Raphael was being paid to take care of me. Therefore I couldn’t get any fanciful notions about him wanting to be around me in his own time. Yet this sounded like the opposite. I stuck my tongue in my cheek and tested that water.
Alex: Skinny-dipping potential?
Raphael: I’m sure that can be arranged.
He hadn’t even hesitated. I stretched out on the cool sheets, sounds of the city coming through my open window along with humidity that stuck my t-shirt to my hot skin. I wanted the previous owner of the shirt here with me.
I wanted a lot of things.
Alex: Talk me through it. Describe the place.
The dots showed he was typing, then it changed to state he was recording a voice message. Anticipation at hearing him curled my toes. At last, it arrived, and Raphael’s low tones filled my room.
‘In a hidden corner of Scotland, there’s a loch, surrounded by mountains and high hills. At the west end, a river flows under an arched bridge and feeds the loch from the snow melt and rainfall from the heather-covered slopes. A castle sits on the banks. Kids play in the water, and it’s a popular spot for the locals to hang out. But at the eastern end, it’s much quieter. There’s a wee path down through the forest to the water’s edge. We’d need a torch so as not to trip over tree roots. The shore is made of flat rocks that might still be warm from the sun. A good place to leave our clothes.’
A small moan of need slipped from my lips, and I squeezed my knees together, lost in the scene he was creating. It was a version of tonight where we weren’t constrained. A fantasy, because constraint made up my life.
I tapped the voice message button. “Don’t stop.”
As if waiting on my encouragement, he started recording another. I could hardly wait to play it.
‘Once we’ve found our way there, we’ll kill the lights so we don’t give ourselves away. No need to clue any nosy folk in to our fun. But there would be enough moon to see each other by.’
Damn, this was beyond hot and yet still the tamest conversation.
I replied, my other hand wandering down my body. “So you can see me?”
‘Clear as day, princess. Are ye looking my way?’
His second sentence came out less sure, as if he didn’t know how badly I was into this. Raphael’s voice scratched an itch inside my brain. That delicious Scottish accent made every word somehow more vital. Except the waiting between messages was driving me crazy.
My phone buzzed in my hand with an incoming call.
I fumbled it and snatched it up again.
But it was Dori calling. Fuck. I loved my friend, but now was not the time. I dismissed it and tapped Raphael’s name to dial him without giving myself a chance to lose my nerve.
He immediately answered. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. Keep talking.”
“What do ye want to hear?”
“What happens when we take off our clothes?”
My breathing stuttered. Had I really just said that? I’d lost my mind. But if I had, so had my bodyguard.
“I’d watch the trees until you’d climbed into the loch, then I’d strip and follow ye in. Unlike me, ye don’t keep your eyes to yourself. Tell me what ye see.”
My fingertips grazed the apex of my thighs. “Strong shoulders. Your arms out as you swim to me.”
“What about before I got into the water? We both know ye peeked.”
I touched my clit and hissed. I was wet for him. My legs fell open. “You’re hard.”
He exhaled. We’d gone there. Past the point of no return.
“Aye, course I am. I’ve never seen anyone so pretty. When I reach ye, what happens next?”
I knew what he needed. For me to set the pace of this exciting and illicit conversation. But I was out of my depth. I’d never done anything like this. “I…want you in control.”
“Ye have it.” His voice took on urgency. “I’d reach out, needing ye in my arms like I’ve imagined too many times. As soon as we’re close enough, I claim a kiss. It starts tame, but it can’t stay that way. We’re naked. Our bodies touch, and though I keep my hands in safe zones, I can feel ye.”
The picture he painted had taken over my whole being. I stroked my clit and imagined holding on to him. My breasts against his chest. His lips parting mine in a blistering kiss built up from countless times of imagining it over the years.
“Christ, woman. Your breathing…I can hear how turned on ye are.”
“You’re making me,” I confessed.
“How far do ye want this to go, Alex?”
“Don’t stop.”
“I won’t. Your legs curl around my waist and your arms around my shoulders until there’s no space between us. If I’d started turned on, by now, I’m a wreck. Nothing in my head but the feel of your body and the taste of your kiss. The water is deep, but I can just about touch the rocky ground to keep us afloat. My balance lets me use my hands to trace up your spine.”
A shiver passed over me. I moved my hand faster. “What if we got out of the loch?”
“Fuck. Aye, we do. I carry ye out, our kiss never stopping. Tell me what ye need from me. Do I offer my shirt to dry off?” He laughed at my whimper. “Then how about my lips travelling down after I place ye on the warm rock?”
“God, yes,” I hissed.
I could almost feel him. He was much bigger than me, and I widened my legs further to give him space.
“I kiss my way down your body. You shove my head to where ye need me most. Right between your legs. In a heartbeat, I have your legs over my shoulders and am discovering exactly how hard up for me you’ve become.”
I couldn’t answer any more than a moan, my body tight to the point of pain. I drove harder circles over my clit, desperation filling me for what he’d say next.
“The first touch of my tongue to your wet centre has ye bucking your hips to meet my mouth. I die over your sweet taste but don’t waste any time because my girl is needy. I lightly lick up and down so I know your shape then form my lips over your clit and suck.”
My moan filled the air, echoed by Raphael’s groan.
“Lucky for me, you’re telling me with those sounds exactly what ye need. How hard. How much pressure. I build ye up and up, toying with ye and loving the game. Except I’m selfish. I want all of it fast, so I push until you’re teetering at the edge, pulling away to tongue-fuck ye because I need ye desperate for me. Are ye close?”
“Y-yes. So close.”
“Good girl. Feel my mouth and my tongue. The thickness of the fingers I slide into ye so I don’t miss a single one of your reactions. You’re wild for me. Ye squeeze down on my hand so perfectly then one. More. Suck. And my beautiful girl breaks apart.”
My looming orgasm surged and crashed over me, created then released by his words. I cried out and pulsed, dizzying waves of pleasure ebbing through every cell of my body and leaving me boneless. Alone, I could never reach this level of satisfaction. He’d done it over the phone using just his dirty words.
I came down from my high with a blissed-out smile on my lips.
“Still there?” Raphael asked.
“Still here.”
“I’m not. I’ve jumped back in the water to cool off because that was the hottest fucking thing I ever experienced.”
My heart squeezed, and I tried to conjure a response. But a check of my phone showed that Raphael had hung up on me.
When I drifted off to a heavy sleep, it was to thoughts of that Scottish loch and him.