YOU WEREN'T SURE WHAT YOU WERE THINKING. What you had done was so wrong, and it made you feel horrible. You despised yourself for how much you enjoyed it, and how bad you wanted it to happen again.
Rafe drove you home that night in silence. You were in tears the whole drive, which earned a good amount of eye rolls and huffs of annoyance from Rafe.
As the car stopped moving, you wiped your cheeks and prepared yourself to walk inside. You sniffled, pulling on the handle as Rafe's hand reached out to grab your elbow, tugging on you for attention.
You looked back with wet eyelashes, a sad look on your face. It stung his heart, really, but it wasn't enough for him to think you looked so fuckin' hot. Eyes wet; hair messy, and swollen lips. Seeing you so devasted, so vunerable. . . Shaking his head, he reached out and grabbed your chin, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your bottom lip his teeth marked flushed. "I'm sorry. Topper's a loser anyway, who cares?"
"I care." You mumbled out to him, bottom lip trembling. You pushed his hand away and stepped out of the truck, cursing yourself all the way inside.
And ever since then, you had made sure to avoid Rafe Cameron at all cost. A part of you was paranoid he'd slip up and say something to Topper, rat you out and make you look like the bad guy. But after a couple of glances you got when you'd pass him quickly around the club, he sent you a nod. One that you only assumed was that he was confirming he wouldn't say anything.
So currently, as you watched your current boyfriend. . . strip his golf clothes to change. He had meant it so innocently, with no worry of turning you on; it almost made you sad one why he didn't try.
The memories of Rafe flashed into your mind and immediately you felt yourself grow wet, throbbing because you ached to have a familiar feeling.
Huffing, you decided the only reason why you even liked it so much was because Topper just lacked certain skills. It wasn't because you actually had feelings for Rafe.
"Baby. . ." You said it quietly as you kneeled on the bed. You flashed your eyelashes at him, sliding onto your hands. Your back arched and you couldn't help but grin as Topper's eyes widened, his face getting pink.
"Angel?" He said it more as a question. He was confused because you hadn't ever acted so. . .
"I'm horny." You told him out right. His time spent blubbering pissed you off. "Okay? I'm really horny and it's like really embarrassing how horny I actually am and I wish you would notice so I wouldn't have to be so embarrassingly blunt about it!" The words of frustration slipped out of your mouth before you could catch them. You flushed, feeling completely foolish.
"Baby I—"
Right as Topper began to respond, his door broke open.
And there stood your 6'2, dark haired demon coming to collect a debt.
He barely paid any mind to you, shifting his eyes completely to Topper, pretending not to notice anything was going on. "My dad and your dad are talking over at the club."
Topper's eyes lit up, thinking about a deal the two men were making about him. He flickered his eyes towards you, a sheepish pout. "I know this is like really bad timing," he murmured, "but this is like also kind've really important and I—"
"Go." You interrupted him, clearing your throat. You climbed off the bed and tugged down the sleep shirt you had been wearing.
Rafe's eyes swallowed you whole and it felt like he had taken all the oxygen away from the air and left nothing for you. Gulping, you shook your head and focused on the sweet, caring, charming— the sight of him next to you and Rafe made you feel horrible. He was so good and you. . . you always had to mess things up.
