The Shameless Hour (4 page)

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Authors: Sarina Bowen

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BOOK: The Shameless Hour
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Since then, I’d stuck to sex and kept my unreliable heart out of it.

Unzipping my hockey jacket, I shrugged it off. “To add insult to injury,” I added, “I was in such a hurry to get out of there that I caught my jacket on the door handle.” I showed Rafe the pocket. “And it tore. I still need to get it fixed.”

Rafe took the jacket out of my hands and inspected the rip. “This isn’t so bad. It just needs a few stitches. You should do it, though, before the edges get too frayed.”

“True. I’ll take it to that dry cleaner’s on Chapel Street tomorrow.”

“And let them charge you twenty bucks for a half-inch repair?” Rafe looked appalled. “Don’t you have a sewing kit?”

I did, as a matter of fact. “Sewing on buttons is the most I can manage.”

Rafe gave me an eye-roll, which most men can’t really pull off. On his chiseled face it looked sexy. “Whip it out, then. I’ll mend it.”

“Seriously?” I slid off the bed and went over to my desk. In the very back of the drawer, behind the highlighters that I never seemed to use, I found my tiny sewing kit. “I bought this on the street corner in Chinatown just because I liked the little silk pouch. Not because I know how to sew.”

He took it from my hand. “Where are you from?”

“New York City.”

Rafe raised his eyes. “Me too. What part?”

“Guess.”

He chuckled because I’d put him on the spot. New Yorkers were very opinionated about their neighborhoods. “Well, you don’t dress prissy enough for me to guess the Upper East Side.” He measured me with his eyes. “So… I’m going to go with the West ’70s. How did I do?”

I gave him my biggest smile. “You’re half right. Because I went to school on the West Side. But I grew up in a townhouse on East 78th and Madison.”

“Wow.” His smile was wan. “But where are your pearls?”

“Very funny.”

“Your turn,” he said, fiddling with the sewing stuff. “Where am I from?”

“Staten Island,” I teased him.


What?

Now we were both laughing, because I’d just named the least fashionable corner of the five boroughs. And I was glad I had, because it meant I got to see even more of Rafe’s hot smile.

“Just kidding, okay? How about Red Hook? That’s my guess.”

“You are not even close.” He picked up a needle. “I’m from Washington Heights. My family runs a Dominican restaurant.” He looked at the needle in his hand. “These are pre-threaded. That’s handy.”

“How is it that you know how to sew?”

Rafe shrugged. “My mother made me learn the basics when I was a little kid.”

“Show me,” I demanded.

His long fingers held up a needle with black thread dangling from it.

“Is that going to look okay against the gray?” I asked.

“Sure is,” he said. He wrapped the free end of the thread around the tip of a finger, then rolled it against his thumb, revealing a knot on the end. He slid the jacket onto his lap, dipping the needle’s tip into the pocket and anchoring the thread. “Okay, see that?”

I peered into the pocket. He’d tucked the knot into the crease where it was almost invisible. “Yeah?”

“If you make the stitches shallow, they won’t even show on top.”

That didn’t mean a thing to me. But whatevs. Rafe bent over my jacket for, oh, about seventeen seconds before tying another knot and asking me for scissors.

“Aren’t these scissors?” I asked, pulling a tiny pair from the sewing kit.

He grinned. “My pinky finger won’t even fit into those. You’ll have to do it.”

He passed me the jacket, and I bent down to find the torn seam now lying flat against the fabric in almost the same way it had before it ripped. Rafe had zipped the tear shut as if by magic. I opened the pocket to find a pristine row of stitches almost too small to be seen with the naked eye. “Holy crap. How did you do that?”

“I’m good with my hands,” Rafe said, a flare in his dark eyes.

The expression on his face made heat blossom in my belly.
Oh, baby
. I loved a boy who could turn my own jokes back on me. I wondered what he would do if I kissed him. My pulse kicked up a notch just thinking about it. “Thank you, Rafe. Really.”

He shrugged, folding his arms over his chest. Even though he was wearing a dress shirt, I could see the outline of his biceps flaring against the fabric. “It’s the only part of your shitty story that I can fix,” he said in a low voice.

Oh, this guy! How any girl could cheat on him was beyond me. You had to wonder if the girl also kicked puppies just for fun. Without thinking it through, I lifted a hand to the muscle joining his neck to his shoulder, giving him a little squeeze.

Beside me, Rafe stopped breathing.

My fingers drifted upwards, past the collar of his dress shirt and onto his neck. He was warm and solid, and I didn’t want to stop touching him.

Rafe turned his chin two or three tiny degrees in my direction, improving the contact with my hand.

I rose onto my knees, the jacket sliding onto the floor, forgotten. Rafe watched me, and the moment stretched out between us. I loved this part — the crackling tension when “will we or won’t we” became the only question in the room. “Rafe,” I whispered. “Maybe there’s a part of
your
shitty day that I can fix.”

He swallowed roughly, and his gaze dropped to my mouth, but he didn’t make a move. Instead, time seemed to slow down, and I saw Rafe’s awareness of me engulf him. His body went quiet, and his eyes darkened.

For several beats of my heart, I let him get used to the idea. When I slowly put my other hand on his chest, he made a small grunt of surprise. Still, he didn’t move a muscle. He just watched me with hungry eyes.

“I’ve always thought you were sexy,” I whispered, pressing my palm against his pec. “Seems like a good time to tell you.” It was the God’s honest truth. And the truth, I’d learned by now, was the sexiest thing ever.

He obviously agreed with me. Because that handsome face dipped closer. And then Rafe’s surprisingly soft lips skimmed mine on a sigh. He stopped at the sensitive corner of my mouth, his lips making the gentlest nibble on mine, before he pressed, warm and firm, against my mouth.

My heart practically stopped at the way he’d silently asserted control.
Holy macaroni
. He didn’t grab me or anything. He didn’t need to. It was a subtle takeover. I received a slow, insistent kiss. And then another. His chest shifted ever so slightly toward mine until I could feel the heat pouring off his body, and I had no choice but to press my breasts against him as he deepened the kiss.

I heard a rather eager little moan. And realized it had come from me.

Two of Rafe’s fingers cupped my jaw. His other hand whispered onto my waist with a pressure so light I almost didn’t know it was there.

The man was barely touching me, and I was already feeling a little desperate for him. I parted my lips beneath his. And the first glide of his tongue over mine made me even achier with longing. He tasted like good wine and sex. My fingers gripped the cotton of his dress shirt.
Slow down
, I coached myself. But the intense vibe I was getting from Rafe made that difficult. We’d both had a bad day. It only made sense we’d both want to work that out with some energetic sex.

Who wouldn’t?

Smiling against his mouth, I shifted onto his lap. As I relaxed my body onto his, he let loose a groan of longing.

I felt it
everywhere
.

“Bella,” he rasped between kisses. “
Me matas
.” Anyone who grew up in New York could translate that.
You’re killing me
.

Holy hell
. I wanted him to whisper like that again. Maybe all night. My mind filled with erotic ideas. Rafe uttering Spanish curses into my ear while he pressed me up against the shower wall. Rafe’s tan hands on my pale breasts…

Meanwhile, he kissed me senseless. You can learn a lot about someone by how they kiss. Rafe wasn’t fast or sloppy. He was a very
focused
kisser. Each glide of his lips against mine was purposeful and so
potent
. It was wonderful, but it made me hungry for more.

Hoping to move things along, I began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing more smooth skin. Before I’d reached the bottom button I had to bend down and kiss his throat.

He tasted as good as he looked.

Rafe tipped his head back and sucked in a deep breath. Now I had him fighting for self-control, and it was beautiful to hear. Quickly, I divested him of the shirt so I could run my hands all over his tan six-pack. Muscular arms wrapped around me. His touch wasn’t quite so polite now. He held me close, kissing me hard, taking greedy pulls from my mouth. His big hands slid down to my ass, and he pulled my body even nearer to his, until I was close enough to feel through his trousers just how well I’d revved him up.

It was absolutely glorious.

As we made out, his hands slipped up the back of my shirt, fingers splaying across my skin. That was nice, but I was not a patient girl. So I grabbed my shirt tugged it over my head. That seemed to break Rafe’s reverie. He didn’t dive back into the kiss once I’d disentangled myself. Instead, he took a moment just to look at me. His dark eyes measured my body with an intensity I wasn’t used to. I might have wondered if he’d found some flaw, except that his hands continued to worship my skin, sliding around my ribcage, slipping up to cup my breasts, which were still trapped inside my bra.

“Take it off,” I begged. “Actually, take
everything
off. And I want you naked, too.”

His eyes widened. And for a moment I was sure I’d blown it. Too much, too soon. But then he took a deep breath. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Do I look unsure?” I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra, tossing it to the floor.

He let out another groan. And then those gorgeous hands slid up my ribcage, cupping my boobs. And Rafe dove back into my mouth, his kisses deep and bossy.

Heaven.

Eventually, he tipped us both onto the bed, shoving one of his muscular legs between mine. Otherwise, he didn’t escalate things. It was if he had all the time in the world to kiss me. He held me snug against him, the way you’d hold a treasure close to your chest. And his free hand made lazy circles on the small of my back, sometimes dipping down to cup my ass.

It was divine, but I wanted more. He still had too many clothes on. I wanted my hands on the impressive erection that had been teasing me through our clothing since the first moment I climbed into his lap. So I worked a hand down onto his fly and popped the button on the trousers he was wearing.

He broke our kiss to watch me while his breath sawed in and out of his chest. His gaze suggested that I was the most serious topic on earth, and he was going to study me and write a paper about me later.

Under that penetrating gaze, I worked his zipper down until the fabric of his dress pants gave way. I slipped a hand down his perfect abs and into his trousers. He gasped when I dipped my hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, my hand grazing his cock. Then he yanked his clothes down off his hips to give me better access.

It’s bad form to ever crack a smile during the Big Reveal, but I couldn’t help but grin. “
Jesus
, Rafe. You’re
gorgeous
. Where has this been all my life?” I love dicks and not just the big ones. His was truly exquisite — long and thick and uncut. A perfect bead of precum glistened in his slit. I bent my body at the waist so I could lick it off.

Rafe’s stomach clenched violently when I touched him with my tongue, and he let loose a whispered litany of sexy Spanish cursing. “Mmm,” I sighed, taking him into my mouth. I loved his taste and the heavy feel of him on my tongue. And the urgent noises he’d begun to make. Rafe was a sexy beast.

Two strong hands reached under my arms, and I was hauled upward for more demanding kisses. As he held my ass in his hands, I could feel him pressing between my legs. I flexed my hips, desperate for a little friction. He let out a groan and the sound of it ricocheted through my body, like a pinball, lighting up everything it touched.


Tan hermosa
,” he whispered, breaking our kiss, dipping his head to reach my breast. He gentled his kiss, his tongue barely swirling around my nipple.

“More,” I whispered, practically squirming against him. There was something about his restraint that made me want to crack through it. Fortunately, his fingers slid down into the waistband of my knit pants. That long hand ran slowly down to the edge of my tiny underwear, then stopped to tease my belly.
Noooooo! Keep going, hand!
I took his mouth in a kiss, hoping to encourage him.

His hand slipped downward again, his fingers finally sliding into the slippery desire that I’d accumulated just for him.
Yessss!

And that’s when I felt Rafe’s restraint fall away. We moaned together, our tongues tangling. Everything was heat and motion. I kicked off my pants, and he helped. We pushed all the last bits of clothing off the bed.

Side by side now, he held me as if he were trying to eliminate any distance between our bodies. Shaking hands skimmed my waist, dipping low to tease my clit, then retreating again. Even now that he was hard and leaking for me, he still did not rush. This beautiful man was worshipping at the altar of me.

And his girlfriend cheated on him? She must be an imbecile.

Five
Rafe

W
hen I was a kid
, I could sometimes go swimming at the public pool on 173rd Street. Above the surface of the water, it was overcrowded, loud and crazy. But when I dipped my head underwater, the world hushed, and I was lost to pure sensation.

Losing myself with Bella was just like that. The world shrank down to the size of her mattress. As I caressed her, reality was muffled by her smooth, creamy skin and the sound of our breathing.

I knew that if I stopped to think about it — if I popped my head back above the surface — the real world still waited, loud and disapproving. But she and I were swimming alone together, hands stroking, tongues teasing. I did not want to come up for air. Ever.

At some point, Bella sat up. So I sat up, too. Then she handed me the box of condoms. Somehow, even though I was drunk with lust, I managed to tear it open. They came out in a string — the way the bodega on our corner used to have a chain of red lollipops hanging over the cash register, and the cashier would tear the next packet off if you wanted to buy one. I tore off a condom and let the others slide to the floor.

I handled the packet carefully, not wanting to tear the latex inside. But the packet did not open on the first try.

“Let me,” Bella whispered. The feel of her hand stroking my dick practically erased my ability to respond, let alone hear.

I handed the condom over to her, too turned on to care that I wasn’t man enough to get the job done. I flashed back to the whole champagne-bottle incident. An hour ago, I’d had no idea where this night would lead me.

Still didn’t.

It seemed impossible to believe that sexy Bella and I were naked together right now. That she was kneeling beside me, one hand on my hip, the other one fitting a condom over my
pene
.

“Is this your usual brand?” she asked softly, using two hands to roll it down. “It’s kind of tight. Seriously, you should buy the next size up. And I’m not just saying that.”

I didn’t answer, because I didn’t want to admit that there
was
no “usual brand” for me. There was nothing at all
usual
about this moment. I didn’t even want to think about why.

With a tug on her hands, I pulled Bella onto my lap and kissed her again. As long as I had my mouth on hers, I didn’t have to think. More sensation,
por favor
. More action, less talking.

And no thinking. Maybe not ever.

Bella straddled me willingly. So willingly. She curled one of her pretty hands around my waist and let me plunder her mouth again.
Cristo
. The way she touched me was incredible. I’d never felt my own desire mirrored back to me like this. With Alison, I’d always been
coaxing
her. But Bella arched into me. When I touched her, she pressed closer. When I groaned, she joined the chorus.

This
. This is how it was supposed to be. Bella’s enthusiasm had obliterated all of my caution. She wanted me. And I could no longer think of any reason why I couldn’t have this.

Our kisses were bottomless. I leaned back against the wall behind me, the sound of my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. Bella reached down between our bodies, wrapping her hand around me again. This time, the condom prevented me from feeling very much. That was probably a good thing. When she’d stuck her hand down my pants earlier, I nearly came like a fountain.

“I like you right here,” she whispered.

I only groaned. I liked her anywhere at all. As long as she didn’t stop kissing me.

She reached over to grab a pillow, and I had to lean forward so she could jam it behind my back.

Then she put her hands on my shoulders.

Then she rose up on her knees.

Then? She lowered herself down on my aching dick.

Caliente
, I thought immediately. It was so warm inside her. I let out the breath that I didn’t even know I was holding.

“That’s more like it,” Bella whispered, pushing her hips forward. Her cheeks were pink, I noticed. And those beautiful rosy nipples were right there in front of me, shamelessly asking for my attention. I took both breasts in my hands and circled the nipples with my thumbs. “Yesss…” she hissed, moving her body against me.

I had never seen anything so erotic. All my senses stood at attention as that beautiful girl began to ride me. I felt the tickle of her hair on my shoulders. And the brush of her smooth belly against my abs. The only thing keeping me in check at all was the condom’s tight grip.

Bella was exquisite, and I couldn’t quite decide whether to watch her or kiss her. So I did both as well as I could. Her gaze began to go soft and unfocused. She moaned into my mouth. And her hips flexed faster than they had before.

Dios
.

I couldn’t hold still any longer. My hips jacked off the bed to match her rhythm. And time slowed to a crawl as Bella’s breath stuttered. “Oh, fuck,” she panted. Then she slammed her mouth down on mine and moaned.

The sound of her climax was so fucking beautiful. It had been a long time since I made a girl come. I’d forgotten how that felt — to make someone whimper as if she were helpless and I was the only one who could save her. Only this was so much better than any of the furtive make-out sessions I’d had in high school. Bella was soft and draped all over my naked body, her back heaving, her
tatas
rubbing against my sensitive skin.

She dropped her face into my neck. “
Whew
. Sorry.”

“No,” I whispered, cupping the back of her neck. “That was magic.”

“You’re going to have to take the wheel.” She lifted her face and kissed me once. “But God, don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?”

Her eyes widened. “Rafe, we’re just getting warmed up here.” She climbed off me, and I missed her immediately. Bella stretched out on the bed beside me and tugged on my arm. “Get your giant dick over here.”

As I rolled to brace myself over her waiting body, all my restraint fled under Bella’s door and down the old stairwell. There was something primal about that position — pressing down into her curves — that reached the core of me. “
Jesus Dios
,” I whispered, my hips already twitching with anticipation.

“Do it,” she begged.

So I did.

Hours ago, I’d been worried about my inexperience. What an
idiota
I’d been. There was nothing more natural than this. Sliding inside Bella felt like something I’d been born to do. My hips set a rhythm that was a lot like the pounding of my heart. “
Tan buena
,” I panted. “
Tan belleza
.”
So good. So beautiful
.

Bella lifted her knees, gripping my body with her legs. “Give me that mouth, hottie.”

When I dropped my head, our kisses were wild, tangled things. I moaned into her mouth, and she dragged her fingernails down my back.

I have no idea how much time passed. A minute? A half hour? There was only the feeling of her skin against mine and the ridiculously sexy noises she made while I fucked her. She gripped me with her knees, and then began to moan my
name
.

All of a sudden, everything began to feel just too good. So fucking good. I was
drowning
in lust. Someone was groaning like crazy, and I’m pretty sure it was me. Bella seemed to like that. A lot. She arched her back and gasped. I felt her body pulse around me, and then it was all over for me. I drove my head down into the pillow to muffle the shout I made when I erupted.

“Jesus,” Bella panted as silence descended. The only sound was our ragged breathing. It was all I could do to take enough oxygen into my lungs. Her hands skimmed down my sweaty sides, and then she rubbed circles around my hips. “Mmm,” she said.

I agreed, but was still unable to say so.

We lay there while my heart rate tried to decide whether or not it would ever slow down again. My thoughts were a swirl of delight and satisfaction and not much else.

“Rafe, you’re going to have to pull your sexy self out eventually.” Bella gave my ass a playful slap.

That woke me from my stupor fast. It figured my inexperience would crop up somewhere. “Sorry,” I choked out, embarrassed now. I began to lift myself off her.

Wait
. I couldn’t mess up this part. I reached down to secure the top of the condom, just like they told us to in health class. Self-conscious now, I planted a foot on the floor and practically ran to the door of what had to be her bathroom. I opened it, finding a tiny little room tiled in black and white, with a slanted ceiling.

Feeling almost lightheaded, I stumbled over to the wastepaper basket. When I looked down to unroll the condom, my heart practically stopped.

The bottom of it was split open.

For a long moment I stared, just hoping I was wrong. But that flap of latex and my exposed skin stared right back up at me.

I put a hand onto the wall to steady myself. “Bella,” I ground out.
Jesus Dios
, I didn’t want to say this.

“Yeah,” came her breathy murmur.

I’m going to ruin everything now
. “The condom broke.”

Saying it aloud shook me up even more. I shucked off the useless thing and threw it away.

“Ahem,” came another female voice. I whipped my head around. “The whole neighborhood can hear you.”

The other voice had come from behind a little wooden door on the opposite wall of the bathroom.

Madre de Dios
. I stumbled out of the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

Bella had gotten under the covers, where she now lazed, her head on one curled arm. The lazy expression on her face did not match mine. Why was she not freaking out? “Rafe, relax. It’s okay.”

“How is it okay?” There was
nothing
about this that was okay.

“Come here.” Bella pulled the covers back and beckoned to me. Reluctantly I got into bed beside her. She put a hand on my nervous chest. “I have an IUD. That’s a device that protects against pregnancy, and it’s more effective than any condom or any pill. So as long as you’re clean…”

“Of
course
I’m clean,” I sputtered.

“Of course you are,” Bella said softly, patting my chest. “I’m just saying. You don’t have to worry. I’m as careful as they come.”

I put a hand over my eyes, still mortified. A few hours ago, I was an upstanding guy who was taking his girlfriend out for her birthday. And now? I was some asshole who’d had a one-night stand.

And
the condom broke
. I thought I might throw up.

“Please don’t freak out.” Gently, Bella removed the hand from my eyes. “Because what we just did? That was ten different kinds of hot.”

She smiled at me then, and it was hard not to feel just a little calmer. A guy could get pretty lost in that smile if he wasn’t careful. “Yeah,” I whispered back to her. “Okay.” I still felt a little lightheaded. The fact that I’d had no dinner and more than half a bottle of wine probably explained it.

Bella propped herself up on one elbow to reach the lamp. She clicked it off and her room dropped into darkness. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said, getting comfortable on her pillow. “Because we might have to do that again in the morning. I need to know whether that much hot can be duplicated. For science.”

“For science,” I repeated in the dark, my head woozy.

I felt her lean in close, and she kissed me on the shoulder. Then she lifted one smooth knee up, dropping it down over my outstretched leg. A few minutes after that, I heard her breathing lengthen into sleep.

That’s when I really began to feel alone.

In the pitch dark of Bella’s room, I no longer had her smiling eyes to tell me everything was all right. The sleeping girl beside me became a stranger again.

The stillness pressed in on me, and tonight’s events began to play back in my mind. And what I saw there made me feel pretty damned
loco
. My plan had been to make love to my girlfriend of many months — a girl I thought I knew.

I’d thought wrong. So wrong.

And before the day was even over, I’d stripped off my clothes for sex with Bella, who I barely knew. It had been amazing, of course. I enjoyed every minute of it.

But what if the night had happened differently? If I’d gotten naked with Alison instead, and the condom broke? What then? A hasty trip to the health center, to get that pill you can take if you’re quick enough. The one that doesn’t always work.

Jesucristo
.

There was a reason I hadn’t slept around like a lot of other guys. There were several reasons, but guilt was the main one. If my mother had any idea what I’d done tonight, she would lose her mind. Pregnant at nineteen, Ma’s life had never been the same.

After my father disappeared, Ma waited two years to find out what happened to him, saving up to hire a private investigator. The P.I. found my father within the month. He lives in Mexico City now, where he has another family.

We never even got a note.

“Not everyone is as selfish as your father,” Ma always said. “But I don’t want you putting yourself in the position of having to do the right thing. And you can’t put a teenage girl in the position of having to
figure out
what the right thing is. Don’t do it at all until you’re ready to become somebody’s father.”

My mother doesn’t mince words.

I never planned to take her advice literally. But her story weighed on me. It made me respectful of my high school girlfriends, who liked to make out but rarely let me touch them. And it made me feel guilty for wanting sex from Alison, who did not want to have sex. (With me.)

And now? It made me feel like a tool for sleeping with Bella.

Beside me, Bella breathed deeply, sleeping the sleep of the shameless. I envied her that. My churning thoughts kept me awake until, eventually, even those wore me out.

And I slept.

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