Chapter Twenty-Three
M orning,” Rafe murmurs into the curve of my throat. He’s wrapped around me like a blanket, and I snuggle into him, refusing to think about how good this feels. I’m tumbling through a black hole that’s sucking me into a void of nothing, but I close my eyes and cannonball straight into its heart. I’ll deal with the fallout later.
“Morning.” I twist to face him, the band of his arm tightening. Before I can say anything else, he’s kissing me. Last night was full of firsts and seconds and, let’s be honest, thirds and fourths, and as Rafe rolls on top of me, it’s clear we’re going for fifths, and I am one hundred percent here for this.
After we’re done, I groan into my pillow, “I don’t want to leave this room.”
It’s Friday morning, and it’s almost the weekend. Rafe slides from the bed and begins gathering up his discarded clothing.
“Let’s call in sick.” I roll over and bare myself, tearing the blanket away. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”
He’s tugging on his pants, and I lick my lips and aim my pointed gaze below his waist. His eyes turn black as coal as a low growl rumbles in his chest. “Don’t tempt me.”
I rise to my knees, piling my hair on top of my head with a seductive smile. I can see him weighing his options as he steps closer, his hand sliding into the hair at my nape.
“Later,” he says with obvious effort. “As soon as we’re done today, we are meeting back here, and we aren’t leaving this room for the entire weekend. I haven’t even scratched the surface of all the filthy things I want to do to you.”
He kisses me quickly and then turns to leave the bedroom.
“Did you really just say that to me and walk away?”
He tosses a wicked grin over his shoulder as he disappears into the second bathroom.
“Fine,” I call, collapsing in a heap on the bed. “Don’t be surprised if you find yourself here alone.”
I hear his cackle from the other room as if he knows there isn’t any universe in which I’d make good on that threat, and I hate that he’s absolutely right. Wild unicorns won’t keep me from this bed.
I blow out a sigh because I can feel the stirrings of a headache. Forcing myself up from the bed, I hunt down my painkillers, hoping to chase it away.
“Why do you have so many pills?” Rafe appears in the doorway and gestures to the counter. He’s buttoning up his shirt, and I mourn the loss of the view.
“These are for daily prevention, and the rest are for dealing with the pain when they don’t work.” I wave out a hand, showing off my collection.
Rafe narrows his eyes. “What causes them?”
I shrug and squeeze toothpaste onto my toothbrush. “I don’t know.”
“You’ve been to a doctor?”
I toss him an exasperated look. “Yes, Rafe. I’ve been to a doctor. Many of them. Over and over.”
“You’ve had an MRI? Seen a neurologist? Is it a tumor?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Of course I have, and it’s not a tumor. I promise. It’s just something I have to live with.”
He tucks his shirt into his waistband and buttons his cuffs, much to my disappointment.
“Taking all that medication can’t be healthy.”
“It’s this, or spend half my life in bed writhing in agony.”
“I don’t like it,” he says, his brows drawing together.
“That makes two of us. Now get out so I can take a shower.”
“I’ve seen you naked, Tris,” he says, eyebrow arched.
“Yes, but you’re annoying me now.”
His face cracks into a smile, and he laughs to himself as he leaves, but not before tossing another wicked look over his shoulder.
Once he’s gone, I can’t help but smile, too.
An hour later, we find ourselves suffering through today’s lecture. We agreed to sit on opposite sides of the room in some wayward attempt to remain focused. But to no one’s surprise, it’s not working at all. I find myself stealing glances at Rafe every 0.02 seconds, only to find him doing the same. I couldn’t explain today’s topic if my life depended on it.
As the facilitator drones on, I feel his eyes traveling up my legs. I purposely wore a short, swingy skirt, entirely intent on being distracting because I’m annoyed that he refused my request to stay in bed. After another glance, I attempt to focus on the facilitator, but my thoughts are a million miles away.
A moment later, my phone buzzes from where it sits on the table.
Rafe: I can’t stop staring at your legs.
I smile at the screen before I swipe it open and type back.
Me: Who is this?
I return my attention to the front of the room, knowing my reply has probably earned me that villainous glare.
Rafe:
Rafe: I can still taste you. It’s making me insane.
My pulse skips. Rafe is also a dirty texter. That fairy godmother does good work.
Rafe: Uncross and then cross your legs the other way.
I don’t look at him as I reply.
Me: Seriously?
Rafe: Yes
Finally, I allow my gaze to slide to him. His hands sit balled on the table, one clutching a pen in his hand while his intense stare practically peels back the layers of my clothing.
Me: First, roll up your sleeves.
His smile morphs into deep satisfaction as he reads my text. Our gazes meet, and he doesn’t waver as he slowly unbuttons his cuffs and rolls them up as if this is exactly what he intended all along.
When he’s done, he rests his arms on the table, and I bite my lip because even after having his mouth on every inch of my skin and spending the night without a stitch between us, I still can’t get enough of him like this.
He tips his head, his expression reading okay, your turn .
I sneak a self-conscious glance around the room, but no one is watching.
Some people are pretending to listen to the facilitator. Most are looking at their own phones, and a few are nodding off after returning late from last night’s event. I can’t imagine we got more than an hour of sleep either, but I have never been more awake as I turn back to Rafe, watching me like a hawk perched in a tree.
With our gazes locked, I slide one leg off the other and slowly cross them the other way. His smile tips up, zeroing in on me like an eagle spotting a mouse scurrying along the forest floor.
Rafe: That was so fucking hot
My stomach detaches from my body and plummets to the ground. No one has ever made me feel this needy.
Rafe: This is agonizing
Me: You’re the one who made us come here. We could be back in our room right now doing… other things.
Rafe: I think those break-out rooms are empty.
Me: ??????
I pretend not to know what he’s suggesting because the thought is both mortifying and completely electrifying. Who is this man I was so sure I knew?
I’d formed him in concrete and clung to it with obstinacy. From that very first day when he’d stolen the air from my lungs, I’d convinced myself that everything about him was wrong for me. I’d lumped him with the rest of the men who couldn’t be trusted with my heart. But this Rafe isn’t the Rafe I cobbled together with scraps of a humiliated heart and a bruised ego.
This Rafe is passionate and edgy. He sends filthy texts, and he’s looking at me with a sparkle like compressed rock in his eyes. But maybe I also missed it because he’s been hiding who he is, too. He’s also had to fit a mold that’s choking off his air because his family won’t support his dreams.
As my thoughts tumble like dice on a gameboard, Rafe stands, gives me a wink, and then disappears through a door at the back of the room. No one is paying any attention, and I go equally unnoticed as I slide out of my seat to follow a minute later.
I enter a narrow, carpeted hallway with doors leading to smaller breakout rooms furnished with tables and chairs. The heavy door closes behind me, muffling the facilitator’s drone. There’s no sign of Rafe, so I proceed slowly down the hall, peering into each room.
When I reach the end, Rafe’s hand appears out of nowhere and grabs me, pulling me inside and pushing me up against the door as he locks it. He wastes no time trailing kisses down my throat and along my collarbone.
I arch into it, grabbing his hips. “If you’d just taken me up on my offer this morning, then we wouldn’t be in this situation now.”
He lets out a maniacal laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe this was my plan all along. Isn’t it kind of hot knowing we might get caught?”
I choke on a giggle as Rafe backs up until he hits the table.
I stand nestled in the V of his legs while his hands grip my ass, pulling me against his swelling erection. They slide under my skirt as he bites my nipple through the thin material of my top. This is so wildly inappropriate that it makes every line of my body tighten in anticipation.
It goes against every notion of office decorum I’ve imposed on myself, but after Rafe’s confession about the team lead promotion last night, I think I’m over caring what anyone at WMC thinks. Besides, Rafe has a way of making this feel both exciting and safe.
He spins us so I’m now against the table. “Turn around,” he whispers in my ear, and I do so immediately.
He grabs a fistful of my hair, tipping my head up. As he sucks on the curve of my neck, he grinds his cock into my butt. His other hand slides up my leg, tugging up my skirt so it’s gathered at my hips. His fingers slide between my thighs as he rubs against the thin silk.
“Fuck, I can’t get enough of this mouth,” he says as he kisses me deeply, and heat grows roots through all of my limbs.
He bends me against the table and pulls down the back of my underwear, dropping to his knees. I feel him spread me apart as his tongue strokes me from front to back. “I missed that,” he says, letting out a low groan of satisfaction.
“It’s been like three hours,” I say.
“You’re my addiction now, sweetheart. Get used to it.”
Next, I hear the sound of his zipper, and I clench my thighs in anticipation. Last night, we agreed we were okay without condoms since I’m on the pill and we’ve both been tested. He grips my hips in his strong hands and slides into me with a moan.
“Yes,” I cry as he strokes in and out. With my palms pressed flat against the table, I shove my hips back, craving more. I breathe out a moan as Rafe presses his chest to my back and covers my mouth with his large hand.
“Shhh,” he says, but I can tell he’s laughing.
“You wanted to get caught,” I mumble against his fingers.
“No, I just wanted the thrill of maybe getting caught,” he says, voice rough as he grips my hip harder.
“You like it when I’m loud,” I argue.
“Tris, stop talking. I’m trying to get you off.”
Whatever I was about to respond with dissipates as he slides a hand between my legs and continues driving into me. I muffle my cry in the crook of my elbow as I break apart on the crest of an insane vision-blurring orgasm. Rafe bands an arm around my waist, continuing his frantic pace until he groans into the back of my neck and follows me over the edge.
We remain locked together as we catch our breath. I look over my shoulder, and Rafe covers my mouth with his with a kiss so deep that my knees buckle.
A whistle shrieks through the walls, immediately followed by the sound of moving chairs and a hundred voices.
“I think they’re taking a break,” I whisper.
“Shit, they’re really loud. How thin do you think these walls are?”
I burst out laughing and cover my mouth with both hands. Rafe is tugging up my underwear and smoothing my skirt over my hips before he tucks himself into his pants and zips up. I spin around, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him as his hands slide down my backside.
“That was insane,” he says, dropping his forehead to mine.
I nod and he gives me a crooked grin, brightness reflecting in his eyes.
The muffled thunder of chatter signals that this morning’s session has ended. We open the door to find a stream of people heading for the bathrooms at the end of the hall. I step out and come face-to-face with Andy.
“Hi!” he says brightly. “I texted you…”
His voice drops off as Rafe appears behind me. I watch him catalog our current state. Hair mussed. Faces flushed. Clothing askew. Only a fool couldn’t put two and two together.
“Hey,” I say, matching his cheeriness with an inward cringe, hoping to deflect his thoughts to anywhere but what Rafe and I were just doing. “Sorry about that! I went to bed early last night. Lunchtime?”
He narrows his eyes, and it takes all my willpower not to roll mine. Does he really think I owe him a damn thing?
“Yeah, lunchtime,” he says after a moment.
Rafe wraps his arm around my waist in an entirely unnecessary show of possessiveness. I hate that I kind of like it. But instead of leaning into it, I lightly elbow him in the stomach and then roll my eyes at him instead. I duck past Andy, adjusting my skirt as my cheeks flame.
“Gotta go to the bathroom,” I say with a wave and, like the adult I am, run away.
A few minutes later, I’m standing at the mirror attempting to smooth out my hair and splashing a bit of cold water on my cheeks. It’s then I notice a poster taped to the wall advertising a massive dessert buffet in one of the hotel’s restaurants happening tomorrow.
While snapping a photo, I see Lan emerge from a stall. She passes behind me and starts washing her hands, giving me a sly smile in the mirror.
“Hi,” I say.
“How’d you enjoy the session?” she asks, tucking a black strand of hair behind her ear.
“It was… fine?”
She bursts out laughing.
“I saw you leaving right after a certain tall, dark, and handsome someone else left.”
She blinks, her lips pressed together like she’s trying to contain a smile.
“Did you hear us?” I ask, my cheeks turning red again.
She snorts. “Was there something to hear ? I was learning all about WMC Purcell company culture. That’s all I heard.”
I study her for a moment and then decide it’s better not to know.
“Come on,” Lan says, linking her arm through mine, still laughing to herself.
We find Rafe waiting near the door with his back to the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. Our gazes meet, and his soft smile makes my stomach do this weird little flip.
I hold up my phone and point to the screen and the photo of the dessert buffet poster.
“Look at this.” His eyes light up as he reads it, and that also does another weird thing to my heart. “I know we had other plans this weekend, but maybe we should take a break for some sustenance?”
He assesses me from head to toe with a heated look and cocks his head. Lan pats me on the shoulder and speaks into my ear. “If you’re going, count me and Gabrielle in. If not, you might want to at least wait to get to your room next time.”
She winks and then saunters off with a snicker. Is she serious or just giving us a hard time?
“You don’t mind?” Rafe asks when she’s gone, reading the details on my phone.
“Mind? This sounds like my actual idea of heaven. Throw in a halo and some cherubs lounging on white fluffy clouds, and it’ll be perfect.”
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in close. “Okay, but after that we’re meeting back in our bed.”
My heart squeezes again at the way he growls our bed . If this keeps up, I’m going to have a heart attack.
A chime dings from Rafe’s phone, and he pulls it out of his pocket. I glimpse the name “Hannah” on the screen, and that squeeze morphs into a wave of nausea.
Rafe blows out a long, weary sigh. “Sorry. I better get this,” he says before pressing his lips to my temple. I stiffen. He’s answering Hannah’s call. “I’ll be out there in a minute.”
It’s a reminder that I need to put the brake on my feelings. I need to stop before I fall too far into this. I have rules for a reason. I’ve already broken my WMC embargo, but I can’t let myself feel anything real. This is just a fling. A casual hook-up. That’s all I’m comfortable with.
He returns to the breakout room. The same room where he just bent me over the table and made me see stars. The door closes with a click that feels like a slap to the face. A moment later, I hear the muffled sound of his voice. I briefly consider eavesdropping but then decide that way only lies madness. He said they’re broken up, and it doesn’t matter anyway. I need to remember this is only physical, and he hasn’t promised me anything.
My legs are hollow as I head to the room where lunch is being served. I gather some food and sit down with Lan and Gabrielle. But I can’t taste anything, and I quickly give up.
The hot, itchy feeling creeping down my spine amplifies when Rafe doesn’t return for the entire break. He slips into his seat on the other side of the room just as the session is resuming.
I don’t want to look at him. I’m terrified of what I might see.
My phone buzzes.
Rafe: I can’t wait for dessert later.
Rafe: And I don’t mean the buffet.
Rafe:
I snort and cover my mouth because he’s a horny fourteen-year-old. But it’s also weirdly adorable. I look up at him, and he winks. The tension loosens in my chest.
He’s giving me another new smile.
It’s so genuine and warm and sparkly that I start to feel bad for doubting him.
Still, part of me can’t let this go.
Can I trust that smile? They’re all new to me—maybe I’m only seeing what I want. I trusted Leo, too, and look where that got me.
I look at Rafe’s phone clutched in his hand like a ticking time bomb. Maybe I’m making too much out of this. He told me it’s over between them.
But then why does she keep calling?
And why does he keep answering?