I mull it over. “It’s possible. I suppose it would make sense with the timing, but I don’t understand what could have happened.”
I tell him about how Adrian started working more at his office downtown. How the late nights became more frequent, as did his out-of-town business trips. He no longer took me with him. Every so often, Rafe chimes in with questions.
Did I know where he was going? Who he was with? Why type of investments he was involved in?
I don’t know the answer to any of his questions, and for some reason, he seems frustrated by my lack of answers—something that, in turn, frustrates me. I think he’s just trying to understand how I could’ve ended up on that counter with Adrian looming over me, claiming ownership. Hell, I’m trying to understand it, too.
The more I voice this out loud, the more mystery shrouds Adrian Morningstar. For weeks, I’ve been focused on Rafe, not caring about my ex or his motivations for the things he’s done. As I continue, the questions stack up in my brain, and Rafe remains a silent listener, enraptured in the whirlwind that was Adrian and me. It’s not until I mention the night I found the blood that he stills.
“Blood? What the fuck, Brie?” he asks, his voice laced with disbelief and anger. “Tell me everything.”
Racking my brain to remember it all, I tell him the best I can. “It was all such a blur, and I think my brain tried to rationalize it. It wasn’t until later that it all sank in.”
“When was this? Can you remember the date?”
I frown. “No. It was a couple of months ago. Why? Why does that matter?” I ask, wondering what’s with the third degree.
His expression softens. “It just worries me. What he’s done. What he might do in the future. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt you. Did he? Did he ever hurt you?”
“No, no.” I shake my head emphatically. “At least, not physically. I swear, Rafe.”
My words seem to calm him. “Is there anything else?”
“You seem awfully interested in Adrian,” I observe, wondering where this is coming from.
He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. “I know his type. With my job, I’m surrounded by them constantly.” He pauses then coughs, clearing his throat.
His job? I’m about to question him when he continues.
“You know, with most of our construction sites being similar to Morningstar’s. They’re all the same. Rich assholes with wives they don’t know how to cherish or satisfy at home. I can’t wrap my brain around how a man like him could ever let a woman like you go.”
“A man like him?”
“Yes. Powerful, wealthy, charming, intelligent. And then I remember the arrogance. The smug sense of entitlement those men possess, never believing anyone could ever walk away from them,” he says, anger laced in his tone.
“You sound like you have experience.”
“I have the memory of how he was with you and that’s enough for me. Part of me still wants to kill him for that. The other wants to extend a handshake, because his loss is definitely my gain.”
“It most definitely is.” I smile at him. “Now, I think that’s enough talking for one night.”
He hesitates for just a moment before a devilish gleam fills his eyes. “I couldn’t agree more,” he says, rising from the couch, holding his hand out.
I place mine in his, and shivers run down my spine as he leads me back towards the bedroom. For the first time, this will be intimate, unhurried, and I know that my feelings for him will only blossom once we do this. But I don’t hesitate to follow him.
I could be on the verge of making the second-biggest mistake of my life by letting him in so easily. I hope to God I’m not, but if I’m wrong, I’ll suffer the consequences later.
AS WE ENTER HIS room, he lets my hand go and crosses to the stereo. It brings a smile to my face when he turns the music on low. He dims the lights just as smooth sounds of R&B flow through the stereo. Moving in the middle of the room, he holds a hand out to me.
“A dance?” he asks.
I raise an eyebrow as I lean against the doorframe, watching him. “Dinner, drinks, talking, and dancing? This may just be the perfect date. What more could a girl want?”
His eyes flick to the bed, and I laugh, gliding across the room and taking his hand, more than ready to move the night along. He pulls me tight against his chest, and his free hand caresses my neck before trailing down my spine to rest at the small of my back. As he does, I press myself tighter against him, smiling coyly when I feel his erection molding against my belly just as my breasts rest on his chiseled torso. We’re both so ready for each other yet unwilling to expedite this experience. This is the perfect foreplay, and Rafe is the most incredible partner.
We swirl and sway in time to the music, enjoying our close proximity. He slides his hand up my curve of my spine and then buries his hand in my hair before tilting my chin, capturing my lips with his. His hot tongue explores my mouth, trying to touch every part of me—inside and out. His kiss is demanding, possessive, and strong even though he treats me gently at all times. He gives and takes, and he challenges me to protest yet encourages me to give in to him. It’s a pure contradiction, and it drives me wild with hunger, wanting to experience both sides of him.
He presses his hips against me, proving that he’s undeniably male. Undeniably hard. Undeniably aroused and wanting. A soft moan escapes at the feel of him pressing against me. Desire flows through my veins, and I want to be his. It’s dangerous and risky, but opening up to him about my past, about Adrian, is freeing, and it makes me want him more than I ever thought possible. I’ve become fixated on him. He makes me tremble, takes all of my defenses away, and still, he puts me at ease with each tender touch and gently spoken word.