He seems to meet me halfway, and before I know it, I'm in his arms and his lips are on mine again.

I don't even care that he's sweating or that I taste blood on his lip. When he pulls my body flush against his, I feel his heart beating in his chest, and it excites me.

He deepens the kiss, digging his fingers into my backside, and I'm not just hungry for Rafe anymore. I'm fucking starving.

When he pulls away, I whisper against his mouth. "Let's go home."

He doesn't answer, just turns on his heel and drags me back to his motorcycle.

Chapter Seventeen

Rafe

It's like falling down the side of a mountain, no brakes and nothing to stop us now.

I hope she doesn't mind if I take a shower when we get back because I feel disgusting, but as I climb on the bike and she wraps her arms around my waist, I realize she probably doesn't care. There was so much heat in that kiss, I know that the doors are wide open now and it's just up to us to walk through. And I'm ready.

Being with Shelby doesn't make me feel ashamed. It doesn't make me want to punch a hole through the wall—not anymore. When I'm with her, I'm not alone. She's riding every wave of pleasure with me, and it's like the only two people who exist are her and me.

As we pull up to the apartment, she barely lets go of me. She takes my hand as we walk inside. She presses herself against me, kissing me as we ride up to the fourth floor. And I kiss her back, shoving her against the wall, barely even flinching as her hands touch my chest.

"I need a shower," I groan as we stumble into my apartment, our lips still locked. She starts tearing off my jacket.

"No, you don't," she mumbles against my lips.

Hoisting her up by her ass, I shove her body against the closed door, grinding myself against her. There's no stopping us. I feel it coming.

But what if I panic? What if I get this far and when the time comes, some buried trauma comes back and makes me freak the fuck out. What if the damage is so bad that I don't have any control over my reaction to this. I can't fucking hurt her, and I just need a minute to think.

"Really, I need a shower," I complain, kissing her neck.

"I could come with you," she gasps.

"Just give me ten minutes, okay?" I ask, setting her down and kissing her forehead. She finally agrees and lets me walk away. "Get yourself a drink and don't go anywhere."

When I get to the bathroom, I stop in front of the mirror and stare at the reflection there. For one, I look like shit. Broken lip, sweat mixed with dirt on my forehead, bags under my eyes, and a layer of anxiety hidden beneath it all. Is this what Shelby sees when she looks at me? Is this the person she wants in her bed?