“Almost,” Garcia says, and his tone is more than a little irritated. “You can sit up now.”
Rafe gives my leg one last caress and then he sits up. His cock is tenting the front of his pants, and I wet my lips at the sight of it. He’s giving me another hungry look that promises what his kiss wanted to deliver on the riverbank.
“Can you see yourself out?” Rafe asks, raising an arm and rolling his shoulder to flex his muscles. The sight of that makes my mouth dry.
Garcia’s brows go down. “We need to talk first.”
I gesture at the door to the bedroom. “Why don’t I just go get myself a drink?”
Rafe nods, but his gaze is devouring my face, my breasts, my legs. He brushes a hand over his mouth, and I know he’s not thinking about anything Garcia is going to say. He’s thinking about me. Me under him. Me on top of him. Me with my mouth on him. Him with his mouth on me.
Aaaaaand now I’m thinking about it, too. I force myself to get up and walk out of the room, closing the door behind me. Immediately, I hear Garcia start talking, his voice low, and then Rafe begins to argue with him. Part of me wants to stay and snoop, but I have bigger, better ideas on my mind.
I head for the bathroom of the small bungalow and dig through drawers and cabinets, looking for two very particular things: condoms and lube. If I’m taking Rafe’s virginity tonight—and oh, I am—we need both.
The bathroom doesn’t have anything good except travel-sized shampoo and conditioner. There’s a washcloth and an ice bucket and it gives me ideas, but I’m more interested in finding condoms. I head back to the living room and dig through Garcia’s bag. Success. One condom. One. I eye the package but it doesn’t read as “extra large.” Well, damn. We’ll figure something out. I set it down on the counter for later.
I return to the bathroom and grab the ice bucket and washcloth, and run the tap until the water’s nice and warm. I add a little soap, and then fill the bucket.
Tonight is going to be the first night we’re going to be clean, well fed, and not afraid that a bug is going to bite something unmentionable. I plan on enjoying every moment of this, and I plan on touching Rafe all over.
And we’re going to start with the sponge bath I promised.
The arguing escalates, and I shut off the water, listening. A moment later, I hear a muttered “fuck it” and then the door to the home slams shut.
I peek out, and Rafe’s standing in the living room, shirt off. He rubs his mouth and stares at the door, then shakes his head.
“Did your friend leave?” I ask Rafe, opening the door to the bathroom wider.
He nods.
“He’s not a big fan of mine,” I point out.
Rafe glances over at me. “He thinks you’re distracting me when I need it least.”
Ah. Well, he might not be wrong about that. But I’m not changing my plans. Regardless of how I feel about Rafe, I need his help to save Rose. It’s just an added bonus (so much bonus) that I happen to be nuts over the guy, too. I tuck the bucket under my bandaged hand and drop the washcloth into it. “If he thinks you’re distracted now, he hasn’t seen anything yet.”
That gets Rafe’s attention. So does the swing of my hips as I move forward. Around this man? I feel pretty, no matter the bug bites and the bruises.
“What’s with the bucket?” Rafe asks me. He’s getting the hungry look in his eyes again, which makes me excited.
I bite my lip, reach into the soapy water, and lift the towel up and give it a squeeze. “Time for your sponge bath, just like I promised.”
His brows go up. “You going to play nurse for me, Ava?” He moves toward me, and I can tell that he’s excited about the thought. Everything in Rafe changes when he’s thinking about me. Even the way he moves is more predatory, more hungry.
And God, I fucking love it.
“That’s right,” I say, keeping my voice light. “I want to check your wounds over for myself, and make sure you’re squeaky clean before bedtime. So back onto the bed with you.”
His eyes flare with need, and he moves toward me to give me a kiss.
I neatly sidestep, because I’m in playful mode now. If we’re going to have sex, we’re going to have lots of foreplay first. “Naughty, naughty,” I tease. “If you want your bath, you’d better get in that bed pronto.”
The promise of a rubdown makes him climb into bed again, wincing at his wounds. He sits up on the edge of the bed and stares at me, impatient and hungry for touch.
But I’m a girl, and we are expert teases. I set the bucket of soapy water down on the nightstand and pick up a pillow instead. “Here. Let me help you get comfortable. Come lean back against the headboard and I’ll get you fixed up.” Rafe does as I ask, and then I direct him once more. “Lean forward and I’ll give you a pillow.”