𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 | 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

００８．

Rafe realized very quickly that this girl made him stupid. Made him reckless. He needed to get away from her.

He pulled her closer.

This was very, very low on the list of things he would have ever expected out of his night. Even after Ren had invited him to meet her, he hadn't allowed himself to consider that she wanted anything to do with him beyond a sale.

He should have known. Should have gotten out the second he realized that Ren was the only girl he truly noticed walking through the club, or when he hesitated to let her go when she went off searching for coke. But he hadn't, and then he'd done something brazen and reckless to get a rise out of the prick behind the bar, and now she was kissing him.

He had to give her credit -- he'd been considering it since he saw her in that dress, hugging her figure in a way that made him pause before approaching her. It'd been a miracle that she hadn't noticed him glancing down at her mouth throughout the night.

But whatever was between them had been ambiguous at best before now, and Rafe hadn't felt normal in weeks before he'd met her, and he refused to let himself fuck it up. So he'd let her set the pace with everything, not pushing unless she pushed first, observing every second of her body language and taking cues from that.

The move with the coke had been unprecedented. Something he didn't really realize he was doing until he'd already done it, something that the old Rafe would have done because he wanted desperately to put Cain in his place.

Ren reacting by kissing him was a wholly unexpected bonus.

And there wasn't a chance in hell that he wasn't going to kiss her back.

He'd let her take his comfort zone and blow it up all evening, but this -- this was where Rafe Cameron was comfortable. He kissed her hard, allowing himself to get swept up in the intensity of it all as all of her lined up against all of him.

Rafe braced one hand against the bar, steadying her as she arched over it, tilting herself back to allow him better access to her now-open mouth. One of her hands clung to his bicep while the other rested at the back of his neck, her fingernails grazing over his skin with just enough pressure that his breath hitched.

He ran his free hand along her body until it came to rest at her upper thigh. He dug his fingers into her skin, painfully bare beneath his fingertips. It was not until he had to act against his instinct, to fight the urge to move his hand higher and move the fabric of her dress with it, that he realized that this was neither the place nor the time for him to lose control completely.

Even if Ren was stunning and the complete opposite of everything he was used to and almost as addicting as the coke she sold. Even if he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her, every person in that club be damned.

Rafe was breathless when he forced himself to pull away. Every inch of his body was too warm, almost burning as his chest heaved with the effort of slowing his pounding heart.

It was an act of will not to kiss her again as she looked up at him, eyes wide and impossibly bright.

For a moment, she said nothing, and he felt his chest tighten as a thought wormed itself into his head. She regretted it, and he had just embarrassed himself, and this had all been a mistake. Rafe straightened slightly, his hands dropping back to his side too quickly to be casual.

But then she was smiling, and she was laughing hysterically. Belly-laughing, covering her mouth as she all but cackled.

Rafe couldn't help but crack a faint grin himself.