Rafael's One Night Bombshell

Cassie’s breath locked in her lungs when the elastic of her panties tightened and then slid over the curve of her backside until they rested just below it, one palm curving around the front of her thigh until he reached the heart of her.

Her body seized as a finger slid into her with ease.

“Ahhhh.” She was powerless to hold back the sound.

“Caliente. Mojado. Tal como esperaba.”

The rational side of her should feel embarrassed that with barely any effort at all he’d aroused her to fever pitch. And he knew it. But the not-so-rational side felt a stab of pride that her body had obeyed him.

All too soon, his hand withdrew. When she started to mutter a protest, he stopped her.

“Shhhh. Almost.”

He retrieved the condom from its resting place and ripped it open in front of her. He lifted it and stroked it down her cheek and over her lips. It was unbearably sexy. She could picture him against her mouth, asking to come in.

She wanted it. Wanted to feel him along her tongue.

“Tell me you want me.”

“I do.” Her eyes closed and then opened again, fixing on his. “I want you.”

“Yes.”

The condom disappeared below her line of vision, but she could picture him slowly rolling the latex cover over his length. His mouth went to her cheek, following the line he’d taken seconds before. She turned her head so she could kiss him. Their lips fused together as Rafe’s hands returned to her hips, easing them backward, tilting them, his mouth following hers as his movements forced her upper body toward the top of the dresser, until her breasts were resting on the wooden surface.

“Open. More.”

He definitely wasn’t talking about her mouth. She spread her legs wide, his chest pushing against her back, hands returning to her breasts.

With a quick thrust of his hips, he entered her, stretching her wider than she thought possible. He stayed like that, their labored breathing the only sound in the room for several long seconds. Then his thumbs were brushing across her nipples, and it was as if he was caressing her somewhere else. A sharp point of arousal began building rapidly, threatening to overtake her.

“Rafe... I don’t think I can... Please.”

“Say my name. Again.”

“Rafe.”

Then he was moving with powerful strokes, sending her hips into the edge of the dresser, the sharp pain only adding to the pleasure.

It was too much. The wave found her. Slammed into her and sent her spinning through the surf, taking her breath away and making her see stars.

She was vaguely aware of Rafe above her, shouting something in Spanish, but she was too lost to try to make sense of it as he thrust into her again and again.

Then it was over. His cheek against hers, nostrils flaring as he dragged in air.

Her own body eased its grip on her senses, and she blinked. The mirror showed that his eyes were closed. She swallowed.

Who would he be when those dark pupils met hers again?

She shifted, trying to brace herself for an abrupt withdrawal. A speedy exit into the night.

“Don’t move.” The eyes opened.

“But...”

His body slid from hers, but it was anything but abrupt. He turned her to face him. “Do you have to leave yet?”

The words sounded as if they’d been forced from him against his will. His sudden frown echoed that thought.

She should. She should go, tossing him a quick thank you on her way out the door. But she didn’t want to. To leave was to face the ugly reality that awaited her outside that door. “No. I don’t have to leave.”

One side of his mouth curved, his frown fading as he swung her into his arms. “Then let’s see if we can try that again. In the comfort of a bed this time.”

He leaned down and nipped her lower lip. “As great and sexy as that was, it was much faster than I’d hoped it would be. So for the next round...”

He tipped her shoulders down so he could catch at the edge of the bedspread and pull it down. “Let’s see just how slow we can go.” With that he set her down on the bed, went over to the dresser and retrieved his wallet. When he pulled out three more condoms, her eyes widened, and she had to moisten her lips.

Surely not.

As if reading her thoughts, he grinned again. “Oh, yes. We can. And we will.”

* * *

Bonnie—if that was even her name—was sprawled naked on her stomach, her hair in a deliciously tangled mess all around her face. A peculiar twinge went through Rafe’s gut as he stared down at her.

Shafts of sunlight were already ducking beneath the hem of the curtains and pooling on the carpet at the bottom of the bed. He was normally long gone by now, his one night binge doing what it always did: blotting out a specific memory.

Almost against his will, he took a step closer, noting her head was precariously perched near the edge of the mattress. The reason for that made a certain part of his body react yet again.

He should wake her up, make sure she got home safely, but something stopped him from touching her. He was due at work in a half hour, but it wasn’t that.

He’d approached last night the same way as he did every year on this date, and yet something about this woman’s appearance in the bar had been different. The way she’d jerked the ring off her finger as if she couldn’t stand it being there one second longer. She’d looked lost, the sense of desperation in her eyes dragging up a sense of protectiveness he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hadn’t wanted to feel in a long time.

Rafe had thought for a moment she was running away from someone. He’d actually glanced behind her to make sure some abusive ex wasn’t following her. When he’d satisfied himself that she was alone, he decided to bide his time and leave her to someone else.

Except she’d sat down beside him, the clear blue of her eyes colliding with his glance and sending all rational thought running for the door. Maybe the alcohol had actually done the job he’d meant it to do and addled his thinking. The rest was history.

So what did he do now that he was no longer under the influence?

She was a big girl. Surely she could hail a cab and get home on her own?

The notepad on the end table caught his attention, along with a black elastic circle.

When she’d reached for the band to put her hair up before settling down to sleep last night, he’d stopped her, the thick mass of strands calling for him to sift through them one more time...to wrap them around himself and...

Hell, she’d driven him wild last night. He closed his eyes to banish the memory.

Time to go. Now. Before he woke her up and made himself later for work than he was already going to be.