Anything but Minor - Kate Stewart Page 0,49
way back up.
I lay back as he opened his nightstand drawer, fit himself in a condom, my hands gliding over every hard surface of him. I could feel the ripple of his stomach, the strength in his arms, and the curve of muscle on the sides of his neck.
“Rafe,” I whispered as he cradled my face and kissed me with so much force, everything built between us burst the moment he fit inside me.
“Jesus, you were made for me,” he whispered as he pushed into me farther, my body tight around him. I could feel every slow grind of his hips, every movement mattered. It was a dream.
“It’s not a dream, Alice,” he pushed out as he hovered above me. I hadn’t realized I’d said it out loud. “This is us.”
Completely consumed but dying to express something...anything, I cupped his neck.
“Rafe?”
He slowed to a stop, my voice enough reason to alarm him. I withdrew my hips and reached between us, slowly pulled his condom off, and began stroking him in worship.
“What are you doing?” His whisper was needful and urgent.
“If I’m going to be yours, this is the way I trust you, right? And you can trust me. I’m covered.”
Everything inside me felt adored. I wanted to be closer, feel closer to him, and this was the only way I knew how. Rafe remained above me and stilled for several moments.
“You can trust me,” I whispered as I lifted up to place a soft kiss on his mouth. Rafe lined himself at my entrance and rubbed his swollen head between my lips. In the dark of the room, and without being able to fully read his expression, I began to backtrack.
“Never mind...I just thought—” I was cut off by his eager mouth as he buried himself so deep a tear escaped my eye. He held my face in his hands as he pushed into me, his thrust and kiss blew all my walls to hell. My lips remained parted with cries for him. I took his strokes, needing more as he continued to take all that I had. Wrapping my legs around him, he sank further, deeper, as soft words were murmured between us.
“So soft, so beautiful.”
“I missed you.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Please don’t stop.”
“Alice...God, baby, you feel so good.”
We worked together, fire and air in perfect sync until we both came, sweat covered and completely sated.
Hours later, in a sunlit room, both of us covered from the waist down in his red sheets, we ate Cocoa Puffs naked in his bed. He’d had me bare for hours, a happy hostage. It was the best kind of sex imaginable. I couldn’t get enough, and the growing evidence below his part of the sheet between us said he felt the same. He looked me over, my hair a matted mess, my nipples drawn tight, and bruised from hours of teeth and tongue. I was now a super fan of sex and was never going back. I briefly wondered if they had a giant foam finger for this sport.
“I’ve wanted this since I met you, stubborn woman.”
“Naked Cocoa Puff consumption? Aiming high, aren’t you, Bullet?”
He leaned over and deadpanned, “Smartass.”
“I am,” I conceded as I took a huge mouthful of cereal and grabbed the box between us to pour more in my bowl before I pulled the box away from his eager hands. “You can’t eat too much sugar.”
He reached for it again, and I threw it behind me, and it smacked his wall.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Also,” I said as I chomped another bite, “you have got to stop shaking off Andy’s signals.”
“What?”
“You’re doing that a lot—”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Don’t you trust him?”
“You’re really going to do this right now?” he asked, incredulous.
“This will help your issue,” I said confidently.
“My...issue.”
“You’re lacking in confidence and a little sportsmanship, Rafe.” I put the bowl down, and he stacked his onto mine with a loud thunk on his bedside table.
“You really are doing this. You’re giving me ball advice?”
“Rafe, I’m just trying to help!”
“Thanks,” he said as his eyes went cold.
“And your dugout manner with your teammate Rodriguez is appalling.”
“What the hell did you just say?” His eyes narrowed, and for the life of me, I could not shut up.
“Everyone else congratulates him when he pitches well, and you just stare him down.”
“This is professional baseball, Alice. We don’t have to high five each other for doing our job. Jesus, you’re really unbelievable.”
“You’re a very poor team player at times, and it’s noticeable.”
“I can’t tell if