stomach, above the top of his boxer briefs and wait.
His breathing starts to speed up and I can hear his heart beating faster. He senses where I’m going but wants me to take the lead, so that he’ll be certain it’s what I want.
Rafe, how can you doubt whether or not I’ll want you?
Because you’ve had a horrible shock and I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate.
When is feeling my lover’s touch wrong?
His response is to pull me away from his neck and kiss me deeply. My hand slips below the band of his briefs and his hot arousal greets my eager fingers. His touch moves from my head and he lifts his hips to wiggle his last bit of clothing down with my assistance. When he lowers back down to the mattress, I lift my right leg to place it up around his hip.
His warm hand rests on my thigh and he presses forward until the hard heat of his crown meets the small scrap of fabric covering my opening. He reaches back over my hip and pulls the thong away from between my cheeks to gain entry to my pussy.
Tonight, on this night of pain and dark memories, I require no foreplay. I’m ready and wet and want only to be filled by him to drive everything else from my mind. As his thick head presses forward to claim, a sense of rightness flows through me. Blissfully, all other thoughts stop to experience the joy of our union and I can let myself go in this moment.
I reach out and send one last thought, before the passion overcomes us.
All I ever need is you… forever.
Chapter Fourteen
I could spend endless hours drinking in the sight of this strong, breathtaking man. I enjoy watching him sleep; his sheer, masculine beauty never ceases to amaze me. The hard, sculpted planes of his chest, the soft, sparse hairs, and the vibrant call of his blood beneath taut, golden skin. I still marvel at the fact this delectable man is mine. I don’t need him any more than he needs me. But I want him.
Love is a choice, and I choose to love everyday. The day I knew that, and that the choice was always mine, was the day I became a strong independent person.
When the same clarity happened for Rafe is anyone’s guess. At times, I almost think he was lucky enough to be born with an understanding of the universe’s greatest mysteries.
Four a.m. rolls around and I get up from the bed, deciding to cleanse my body of the emotional trauma of last night through some yoga. Rafe has been a master yogi for years, thanks to the teachings of his mother and father. His parents lived in India for a bit and his father, Claude, studied under a master for a decade. Back at the turn of the twentieth century, only men were allowed to practice yoga. Claude taught his wife, Olga, in secret all that he learned. One hundred years has changed the face of an ancient practice irrevocably.
I change into some yoga digs—a pair of black pants with a matching top, and head out to the hotel’s real gym located on the first floor in the north wing. Passing no guests, I’m glad for the respite in hostess duties. I’m not up to being cheery and smiling just yet. I nod to Miranda at the front desk and she waves a pink slip of paper.
“A call came in for you from New York before two a.m. It was Cy.”
“Why didn’t you alert me?”
Miranda’s eyes get big. I’m guessing my tone was a little harsh.
“Rafe told me last night when he was carrying you to your suite that we should not bother you unless it was an emergency.”
In an instant, my guilt flourishes and if I still had the ability to blush with bright pink cheeks, I’m sure she’d see it.
“I’m sorry, of course that was the right thing to do. I certainly was in no state to argue.”
Real concern colors her voice as she asks, “Do you mind if I ask what happened? I was worried when I saw you earlier.”
Crap! I hadn’t anticipated this scene when I got my happy little ass out of bed a few minutes ago. My brain scrambles fast and I’m desperate to think of some type of valid excuse.
“I… er… I think I had some…” I lock gazes with her and push her a bit to believe my next words, “blood that