Hot.

Alive.

Needy.

Our gazes entwined, and the feelings spearing through me were too intense to ignore. I’d lost count of the number of fantasies I’d had of this moment when he would touch me. Really touch me. Not as the kid he treated like a sister, not as the bothersome girl who mercilessly drove him to madness, but as a woman.

A woman he wanted.

His hand drifted lower, fingers skimming over quivering stomach muscles. Breath eluded me. The circumstances mattered no more. Fear evaporated into particles of mist that lingered but weren’t powerful enough to douse the feelings I thought I’d buried years ago. All that mattered was his hand, lowering…lowering still. I clenched my thighs to keep from spreading them and braced my back against the bars, hands balled at my sides.

His body pressed into mine, and I closed my eyes, cataloging each sensation from the way his chest flattened my breasts to the heat of his thighs. He lifted my arms above my head and curled my fingers around the bars.

“Don’t move,” he growled, hands squeezing one last time before falling away. “You are such a fucking tease.” His words drifted across my cheek. “I never touched you. No matter how much—” Abruptly, he sprang away as if I’d burned him. “I never touched you.” He reached for the belt that must have fallen to the concrete. “You destroyed my life,” he said, fingers playing with the buckle. “I was this close to making it to the UFC, and you snatched it from me.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that, you took my freedom, my reputation. You fucking took everything, Alex. I have to register as a sex offender now? Did you know that?”

“I’m sorr—”

The belt landed across my breasts hard, and I cried out as the breath stole from my lungs. My arms dropped, automatically moving to protect, but he struck again with a powerful crack. I gasped and clung to the bars as my nipples burned.

“Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry! You’ve had eight fucking years to be sorry, but you left me there to rot.” The belt slid to his feet, and he kicked my legs apart before shoving a finger inside me.

My eyes grew wide as he probed me, though his jerky thrusts were far from gentle.

“I rotted while you dated that jerk who probably doesn’t know the first thing about setting you off.” He added three more fingers, wrecking my concentration, his touch stretching and reaching higher. “Did he make you feel this good?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and began counting. Five in, hold, five out. Repeat.

“Answer me!”

“He didn’t.” Lucas’ kisses and wandering hands had made me feel nothing, but Rafe…he made me feel everything. I swallowed past the self-loathing constricting my throat, tried to ignore the slippery plunder of his fingers, but a strangled moan escaped anyway.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Yes.

“No.” I extended to my toes, fingers gripping the bars for support, and barely breathed as his thumb rubbed circles on my clit. “Rafe!” I pushed my pelvis against his hand even as tears leaked down my face. His mouth opened over my throat, and I inhaled sharply, my pulse throbbing an erratic beat underneath his tongue.