Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I’m acutely aware that I want another night with him. But I won’t ask for it.
Rafe speaks next. “I have a proposal for you.” His voice is smooth and honeyed—in control.
“Do you now?” I ask, intrigued.
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m listening.” Just stay cool. And in charge.
He locks eyes with me. “I told you I don’t like lies. I told you, too, that I want to be honest. Can you handle it?”
Somehow I don’t let on that I’m crawling up the walls inside my head. “Sure, I can handle it.”
“I don’t do relationships. I’ve been hurt before. I won’t let that happen to me again,” he says.
I growl, wanting to punch Lucas—or anyone who hurt Rafe. “Who is the jackass?” I ask, pretending I don’t know.
Rafe gives a soft smile that fades quickly. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except this.” He gestures from him to me.
Suddenly, it’s like we’re in a cocoon of desire and pleasure. Of wants and wishes. Like nothing exists beyond these tinted windows.
“I want to see you again,” he says. “So, I want to strike an arrangement with you.”
23
I WANT TO MAKE YOU AN OFFER
Gunnar
Rafe’s limo swings onto my block as he utters the word “arrangement.” I sit up straighter, eager to hear the deal he has in mind. But I also want to grab some control.
The car stops at the curb, and I gesture to my quiet building. “There’s a sitting room in the lobby. Let’s go inside,” I say.
“Sure.” Rafe nods and we exit the car together.
I open the building’s door, head up the steps and punch in the key code, Rafe right behind me.
The lobby is sleek chrome and white walls, coolly industrial and eerily quiet. A much safer setting than the too-sensual vibe of his limo.
I claim a spot on the black couch that frames the lobby space, and Rafe sits next to me, but not too close. Business deal distance, I suppose. He’s focused and intense, so that fits.
“I’m listening,” I tell him, and he nods.
“Good. Because I want to make it worth your while. Gunnar, you are fascinating and full of the cockiest charm I’ve ever seen. It drives me crazy that you keep trying to walk away from me, especially since I know that’s not what you really want.”
He’s not wrong. “If you say so,” I say, flirting.
He growls. “I know so, Gunnar.”
The man digs the chase, whatever he may say. Likes a little cat and mouse. He’s intrigued I don’t fall to my knees every time I see him. He may think he wants me to serve up my psyche on a silver platter, but he doesn’t want that all the time.
Rafe is like a great game of baseball. The sport is best when you don’t know what’s coming and all you can do is react.
“So then what do I want?” I counter. Let him spell it out.
His eyes glimmer with heat and passion. “You want to feel wicked, mind-blowing pleasure. And I want to give it to you.”
Yesssss.
I like where this is headed.
I peer around him in case anyone’s coming down the elevator. But the lobby remains silent. Only his words and mine fill the quiet.
“Keep going,” I say. He is hitting all the right notes.
“I want to make you writhe, and beg, and pant. I want to see how you look when you’re about to lose your mind. I want you to beg for my mouth, my fingers, my tongue, my cock, and anything else I want to use on you.”
It takes all my willpower not to slide closer and crash into him. “I want that.” Three words are all I can muster.
“I want to test your limits, and I want to take risks in public that thrill you more than you ever imagined.”
Here. Right here. Where someone could come downstairs and see.
“Why?” My voice wobbles with heat, with lust.
He gives a sly, dirty bastard smile. “That’s what gets me off,” he explains, so simply, so elegantly. So like a polished, savvy businessman. That’s what this is—a business deal he’s striking.
I do want him to test all my limits. I want to find them with him.
“But you need to know something,” he says, his tone deadly serious.
“Tell me. Whatever it is, I can handle it,” I say, hoping that’s true.
“I can’t offer you anything else,” Rafe says, resigned but determined. His eyes are sad. “That is all that I have. I can be your lover, but I can’t be anything more.”
I wince privately—which is silly. I’m not looking for someone to date. I’m busier than I’ve ever been in my life. “Yeah, that totally works for me too. Except for that family reunion I planned to invite you to,” I say with a fatalistic shrug. Sure, I’m putting up a wall, but it matches his.
He doesn’t laugh but seems pleased with my answer. “Good. Then we agree. No strings. No falling in love. When this ends, it ends.”