Relentless Seduction (6 page)

6

C
LAIRE
COULDN
’
T
BELIEVE
she was lying here completely naked with some man’s face.

Not just some man. Rafe. He used his fingers to open her more and then licked her and teased her until she couldn’t hold in her moans. God, his tongue. His lips. She lifted her hips to him. The ache spiraled higher. She was so close to the edge, clasping his head with her hands and making incoherent noises.

It was exquisite. It was...embarrassing.

Stop that! Concentrate on how good it feels.
How he teased her clit with just the right touch and speed. Oh, yes. It felt so good. Amazing. Getting closer. He must have done this to a multitude of women to know how to pleasure her so skillfully.... How many had lain where she lay now? And...it was gone.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just relax and let it happen? She pushed him away and sat up, clamping her legs together and covering her breasts with her arms.

“What is it?” He huffed out a breath.

“I don’t—” she squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head “—think I can do this.”

He got to his feet, ran a hand over his mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, not sex, not you, I mean, you were great.”

His scowl grew.

“It’s me. I just can’t...seem to...” She waved a hand. “Gregory said I’m too high-strung. I can’t ‘loosen up and let go.’” She used two fingers on each hand as air quotation marks.

With his hands on his hips, he stood there blinking, staring at her as if she’d just told him she was from another planet. She wished she could disperse into millions of molecules and
go
to another planet. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

She started to stand, but he caught her shoulders. “Hold on.” He took her chin and tenderly turned her face to him. “Look at me,
cher.
”

She raised her gaze to his. His gray eyes were filled with determination.

“You’re a beautiful woman.”

Her instinct was to object, but his eyes bore into her, refusing to allow her to doubt his words.

His hand slid up to cup her breast, his fingers lightly touching her nipple.

She shuddered and felt both nipples tighten.

“Take off your glasses.”

“But, I—”

He put a finger to her lips. “Shh. Do you trust me?”

Did she? It seemed kind of ridiculous to willingly expose herself to him this way if she didn’t. But then again—

He chuckled. “You’re thinking too much again, Claire. What does your gut say? Do you trust me? Yes or no?”

“Yes.” She breathed the word.

He smiled and something inside her melted. Rafe brooding was sexy enough. But Rafe flashing a smile sent him into the handsome-as-sin category.

“Good.” He brushed his knuckles across first one nipple, then the other.

She closed her eyes and arched into his hand. Before she opened her eyes again, he removed her glasses. “Keep your eyes closed,” he said softly. He gently ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face until she felt her muscles relax.

“Scoot back and lie down.” He lay on the bed beside her as she obeyed. He palmed her stomach, slowly stroking her skin. His hand glided up between her breasts then down to her stomach again, and then farther down, caressing her thighs.

He was being so patient. What if she couldn’t— “Rafe?”

“Uh-uh-uh. No talking.” He sighed. “Turn over.” He pushed her hip and she rolled to her stomach and rested her head on her folded arms.

“Keep your eyes closed.” He began massaging her back, her shoulders. “Picture the mighty Mississippi, the water flows, lazily making its way down to the gulf.”

She saw it.

“And there’s a boat, just driftin’ along.” He gripped her behind one knee and bent her leg. At the same time he swept the hair off her nape and she felt his lips kissing there, and then down her spine. “The sun is warm.” A soft kiss. “Birds are chirpin’.” Another soft kiss. “You put your hand out and let your fingers dip into the cool water as you slowly drift down the river.” Warm, sensuous kisses down the rest of her spine.

His breathy Cajun drawl lulled her into a languid state. She let out a sigh.

“Bon,”
he whispered. His hand traveled up from her knee to her thigh and slipped between them.

She moaned and raised her knee, giving him more access. His hand accepted the invitation and played with her, rubbing softly at first, then gradually using more pressure.

The pleasurable ache, the throbbing... Mmm, felt so good, and was building up to something more, and then more still. It felt as if she might burst, but she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted even more, harder, faster, deeper, yes, deeper—and then an explosion of sensation unlike anything she’d ever felt before overtook her. She screamed, and her body tensed for what seemed like forever. She gasped for breath.

The throbbing eventually faded. Lazily she opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. Remembering where she was.

She was on her back, with no memory of getting there. The muscles inside her still contracted like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

And that’s what it had felt like. An earthquake inside her, erupting fiery lava, transforming her world. Transforming her.

And there was Rafe, a blurry shadow, but the white of his teeth flashed. “What does Gregory know, huh?”

Her face heated. “I just assumed it was me.”

“Nothing wrong with you,
cher.
”

She smiled, cupped his face and rose up to kiss him. And kiss him and kiss him.

Squinting, she studied his muscled chest. A bold, black tattoo covered the top half of his right side. The abstract pattern started at the top of his right shoulder in a series of stark black swirls, or flames, each swirl ending on a fine point like a scythe. One of the scythes curved just under his right nipple. She wanted to lick that nipple.

With a hungry moan she stroked his pecs, and then slid her hands down to his stomach and back up, memorizing everywhere she touched. She licked her lips, pushed him to his back and leaned over him to place her mouth at his throat.

As she did, her breasts brushed his chest.

“I need these off.” Her hands fumbled with his jeans.

He chuckled warm and long. “I’ve created a monster.”

She grinned and palmed his erection through the denim.

“Hey!” He grabbed her trembling hand. “Careful now.” He pushed to his feet and pulled a shiny packet from his wallet. Then he tugged his boots off, his jeans and boxer briefs followed and he lay beside her.

Even without her glasses, she could tell he was large and magnificently erect, the skin slightly darker than the rest of him. She wanted to touch him, to pleasure him the way he’d pleasured her.

She reached down and grasped him, feeling the soft skin covering a rod of steel. Her thumb rubbed the tip and spread moisture around the head. He groaned, pushing into her hand. “Won’t take much more. I’d rather be in you,
cher.
”

Moving a leg between hers, he rolled on top of her, resting his weight on his elbows. His penis pushed against her stomach. Deliberately, he took her right nipple into his mouth, drawing deeply and flicking his tongue across the peak.

“Rafe!” She cupped the back of his head and arched off the bed.

“I like that. Hearing you call out my name.” He tore open the packet with his teeth, slipped on protection and then pressed into her to the hilt.

She wrapped her arms around his back, holding him tightly, running her fingers up into his hair.

“You feel good,
cher,
all tight and hot around me.” His voice sounded strained, even muffled as it was against her neck. He started to move.

“You feel good, too.” She arched her hips, matching his rhythm.

He groaned and pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back into her.

“Oooh, that feels good.” She nuzzled into his neck. “Mmm, and you smell good, too.”

He pulled out and pushed in again, powerful and hitting just the right spot. “Oh! Rafe? I should’ve told you at the hotel, thank you f—”

He stilled. “Claire?”

“Hmm?”

“No more talking now.” He kissed her, long and deep as he moved inside her. His kisses trailed down her neck to her breasts where he suckled and his hands cupped, and played. She groaned and closed her eyes and pictured herself floating along the mighty Mississippi, its currents ebbing and flowing, gently tugging and pushing, and the pressure started to build again. Her hands caressed his back and shoulders. She was losing herself in the experience just like she had a few moments ago, and the aching, throbbing release was so close.

His rhythm sped up, and he slid a hand between them to rub and tease her and the next minute she was falling over the edge again. Rafe froze, then thrust once more, shuddering as he came.

Moments later, he moved next to her, his breathing erratic.

For a while there was nothing but colored lights behind her eyes and a thrumming in her veins. Gradually she began to notice the heat of the man beside her. Hear his breathing, feel the soreness between her legs and in her thigh muscles.

So this was passion. This was sex. This was the way it should be.

Sex with a man so purely male, so powerfully masculine he’d patiently brought her to, not one, but two miraculous orgasms.

She lifted up to study him, wishing she had her glasses on. He looked delicious, every broad-shouldered, big-muscled, long-limbed inch of him. Disheveled strands of hair fell across his eyes. She wanted to reach up and brush them away. But she didn’t.

In this relaxed pose, he didn’t look as formidable, but more like a little boy forced to become a tough man. Instead of looking peaceful, he looked tired. Lines of stress were more visible, and dark circles smudged his eyes.

What troubles weighed him down? She knew nothing about him except that he managed a bar, was good with a knife and was an exceptionally patient and determined lover.

How many other women had he brought here? Rafe had undoubtedly had dozens of one-night stands, maybe hundreds. Her nails dug into her palms at the thought.

Wait a minute.

Was she jealous? After having sex with him once?

“Why’d you call me?”

Claire jumped when he spoke. “What?”

He opened his eyes. “When I dropped you off at the hotel you thought I was no better than a thug with a knife. Why’d you call me instead of the police?”

“I did call the police.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Fine.” He sat up and rolled off the bed to his feet. “Hide behind semantics.” Rafe disappeared into the bathroom.

“Wait.” She frantically searched the bed for her glasses, squinting and feeling around with her hands until she found them.

As she slipped them on, he came back out, stepped into his underwear and jeans, tugged them up and zipped the fly.

Yanking the comforter up to her chin, she scooted to the edge of the bed, unable to meet his gaze. “I called you first because...because I knew you would make me feel safe. I was so scared, and I—I just...needed you there.” She chewed her lip and waited for him to laugh.

Instead, he stepped close and touched his fingers to her cheek. “Tell me about you and your missing friend.”

Claire blinked. “You want to talk about Julia?”

He shrugged. “Most people wouldn’t go to these lengths for a friend, no matter how close they were.” Striding to his makeshift kitchen—which was a small counter, a portable cooktop and a mini-fridge—he grabbed a can of grounds from the fridge and proceeded to make coffee.

“Are you coworkers?” While the coffeemaker gurgled and dripped, he retrieved his only chair from a tiny table by the window, turned it backward and straddled it.

“No. We go way back.” She smiled, remembering when they were kids. How many scrapes had the two of them gotten into? Julia would suggest some outrageous stunt, Claire would dutifully list all the reasons why it was a bad idea and then Julia would coax Claire into doing it, anyway.

Her smile faded. “If you can believe it, I used to be even more of a geek than I am today. I’m sure you noticed my stutter.”

“I did.” Rafe got up and poured them each a mug of coffee. “Hope you like it black.”

“Black is fine.” She took the mug from him and sipped. “I was taller than most of the other kids, and shy, had the thick glasses.” Wow, she sounded pathetic. She glanced at Rafe, but he looked interested, not disgusted.

“And Julia was gorgeous, blossomed early?” he guessed.

“Oh, no, she was a scrawny little thing.” Always hungry. And frequently dirty. Claire had eventually discovered that Julia’s mother was an undiagnosed bipolar, incapable of caring for her own daughter. “Scrawny, but scrappy.” She smiled. “She was fearless. One day this boy was bullying me during recess when Julia stepped in and bloodied his nose.”

He whistled. “Julia punched some kid in the nose?”

“Yep.” She nodded. “Got suspended from school for it, too.”

His shoulders shook as he chuckled. “How old were you?”

“Third grade.” Julia had become her best friend, her mentor, her sister.

“Gutsy kid.”

“She was. After that we were inseparable until...” Until she’d left for Cambridge. Claire hadn’t thought, until this moment, about how Julia must’ve felt when her best friend went off to an Ivy League university and left her in Missouri attending cosmetology school.

“Until?” Rafe urged.

Snapped back to the present, Claire answered, “Until I went to college. Which I might not have had the courage to do without Julia. I definitely wouldn’t have gone to prom. But she had a way of making me believe in myself.” She met Rafe’s gaze with a determined glint. “And I owe it to her to believe in her now.”

Rafe gulped his coffee. “But if she’s such a daredevil, why are you so sure she hasn’t just taken off on her own?”

“I’ll admit, she sometimes does things on a whim without thinking it through. With Julia, taking risks was a lot of fun. But sometimes it got us into trouble. And Rafe, I know her. If she weren’t in trouble, she’d be on the phone telling me all about her crazy adventure. We tell each other everything.” She frowned into her coffee mug. “At least, we used to....”