Before I know it, his hands are in the waistband of my scrubs again, and they come off in one eager swoop. Now, I’m sitting completely naked on his couch while he’s still fully dressed. But I can’t move to take off his clothes because my hands are stuck behind me.

I hardly have time to notice as his mouth travels down my neck, straight down the center of my chest to my belly where he takes a slight nibble.

I’m completely breathless when his hand finds the gentle folds between my legs. Then his mouth his there, his lips around my sex, and his tongue devouring me like he’s starving.

I feel his eyes on my face as I writhe on the couch, a little self-conscious of how not-long I’m going to last. I haven’t had a man down there in a long time—fuck, maybe a year. And Rafe is not holding back at all. When his two fingers sink deep, I yelp, almost moving my hands to grip his hair more than once.

Just as I feel my climax closing in, he pulls away. Waiting for him to climb up here and fuck me right, I finally open my eyes and peer down at him. He has a wicked smile as he dives back in.

Two more times, he stops just when I'm about to reach the pinnacle.

“Rafe, please,” I beg when he halts his movements again.

“Please what?” he teases.

“Stop torturing me,” I cry, my back arching off the couch as he hooks his fingers and hits the spot that makes me see stars.

Suddenly, my legs are clenched around him and I’m flying. His hands are all over my body. His lips and his tongue own me.

As my body relaxes against the couch, he stands, towering over me with a wicked look on his face. Eager to reach for him, I pull my hands out and put my hand out toward him. He doesn’t take it.

“Feel better?” he asks as he walks away.

“What?”

“I can tell you’ve been on edge. Did you get that out of your system?” He reaches his wine glass, and suddenly I feel extremely exposed, naked on his couch. In a scramble, I reach for my clothes and throw them on, feeling like a bigger fool than ever.

“Wait. That’s it?” I ask, following him to the bathroom.

“Unsatisfied?” he asks with a snarky tone.

“I just thought we would…”

“What? Fuck? I distinctly remember you standing at my door and telling me very adamantly that we would not be doing exactly that.”

I stand there, mouth hanging open as he brushes past me with a duffel bag in his hands. “Is this all a game to you?”

But he doesn’t answer. Instead, he leaves through the front door of his apartment like nothing happened.

Chapter Ten

Rafe

My body feels like a cinder block of fucking tension at the moment. And laying into this punching bag really isn’t helping as much as it normally does. I can still taste her on my lips.