𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 | 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

００９．

Warning: This chapter contains explicit description of a sexual encounter. If that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip to the next chapter! You won't miss out on anything critical to the plot if you don't want to read this kind of content :) 

Ren was very much aware that she'd probably made a handful of mistakes throughout the night.

This had nothing to do with what her father wanted. She hadn't sold a single ounce of product and she'd completely dropped the ball when it came to learning anything about this new family, besides the fact that the oldest son was an unbelievable kisser. And that, she wagered, her father wouldn't care much to know.

She wouldn't have a damn excuse, either, when he called and wanted to know what exactly had gone so sideways with her plan.

But if Ren was being completely honest, she didn't care.

It was impossible when she was blindly, desperately kissing this guy she'd somehow only met that morning, though it felt like she'd known him weeks rather than hours. And so she didn't try to make herself care about cocaine or her dad or what he'd say or anything, really, other than Rafe.

Rafe, and the fact that they were stumbling across her dark living room, and his shirt was already off, and -- dear god, he was muscular. It wasn't like she hadn't already learned that after he'd carried her up the stairs, but it was different feeling the solid shift of his arms and chest completely bare beneath her palms.

And his hands, broad and a little rough as they moved over her legs, her ass, her torso, made her heart thrum in her chest harder than any cocaine ever had. Especially now, as they toyed with the hem of her dress, not fully making any move to pull it off of her but painfully clear in marking his intentions.

Ren relied on memory alone to guide her through the living room, holding out one hand as she searched her surroundings for her bedroom door or even a light switch.

She could have made this easier. Could have dragged her mouth away from his, actually looked at where she was going to get them to her bedroom before one or both of them had the chance to trip over something. She certainly could have done that.

But pulling away was easier in theory than in practice, and he had a hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back at the perfect angle, and she was in no position to put a stop to that. So she fumbled blindly in search of her bedroom and prayed that she didn't make a fool of herself, and that would have to be that.

And apparently someone or something heard her prayers, because the pressure of his kiss growing deeper, almost devouring, pushed her back a step -- right into the cold knob of her bedroom door. Before Ren could reach for it, Rafe had already taken his hand off of her hip to open the door in one deft sweep, and then he was guiding her back a couple of steps into her room.

The second the door clicked closed behind them, all semblance of restraint went out the window.

Her movements were near frantic as her fingers clawed at his belt, an act that was made no easier by the way her hands trembled at the feeling of his lips on her neck, pressing kisses and biting gently every few inches along the most sensitive spots there. Each graze of his teeth against her skin had her arching against him more, and it was all the incentive Rafe needed.

His splayed hands came up to cage her sides, starting at her thighs and moving up, dragging the fabric of her dress along with them. He pulled away from her throat for half a heartbeat and then her dress was gone, tossed into some corner of the room she couldn't see.