The Shameless Hour (The Ivy Years #4)

Rafe held me tightly, making it even harder not to cry. Because the feel of those strong arms around me was exquisite. He smelled like clean man and laundry detergent. So I burrowed even further into him, with no plans to ever leave.

Welp. Sorry, Rafe. I’m never coming out of here. I was going to live out my life right here, hiding in Rafe’s neck. He would have to have me surgically removed. Not only was I comforted, but I was enjoying the delicious scrape of his Saturday whiskers against my cheek.

“Didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, running a hand down the back of my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Ugh. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know it’s icky, all right? I already know.”

His hand came to a stop on my back. “What’s icky?”

“Me,” I gasped. “I get it. It’s gross… that I had…” I couldn’t even say it out loud. To Rafe, who already knew! I was never getting my mojo back. Never ever.

“That’s what you think?” he whispered. “Really?”

I pulled my head back and looked into those chocolate eyes. The intensity I found there made my heart stutter. “Isn’t it?”

“No, baby. You could never be gross.” He frowned. “You really don’t believe me, do you?”

Slowly, I shook my head.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. Then he muttered, “Dios, forgive me for what I am about to do.”

I didn’t see it coming until Rafe cupped his hand under my jaw. He brushed my cheekbone with his thumb, and I swear to God I developed an extra set of nerve endings right then and there. He leaned in and brushed his mouth over the corner of mine, sweeping up my cheek and over my ear.

“You,” he whispered, pausing to touch his tongue to my earlobe, “will always be the sexiest girl I have ever known.”

It was the classiest, swooniest thing anyone had ever said to me. And my poor, long-ignored body lit up like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. While I quivered, Rafe left gentle kisses up the side of my neck. I had to tip my head back to give him better access, and I found myself squeezing my legs together against the electric current suddenly sizzling through my fun zone.

Later I would realize he almost certainly meant to stop there. The hot sigh that Rafe gave off next sounded like a capitulation. “Belleza,” he growled. “Give me that mouth.”

I wasted no time. Leaning in, I pushed my aching breasts against his chest and I dipped my head for the hot kiss that was waiting for me. Rafe groaned at the contact. Two hands slid down, grasping my hips, straightening my body out until I was spread out like a blanket on his beautiful body. Arching his neck, he nibbled my lips, as if reacquainting himself with the shape of my mouth.

Every touch seemed to shoot waves of heat through my entire being. I’d been starving for this. Then he parted his lips. A bossy tongue invaded my mouth. And… holy fuck. I practically burst into flames. Even as our tongues met and tangled, I felt myself get wet for him. That had to be a personal record. Either I got this boy’s clothes off immediately, or we were going to need one of the fire extinguishers hanging out in the stairwell.

It didn’t matter that I was on top of him. Each kiss I received was like a command. There was something fierce about the way Rafe kissed. About the way he did everything. He reminded me of the lion at the Bronx Zoo — often quiet and still. But when he roared, the effect was earthshaking.

And I wanted to be shaken.

I nuzzled his neck, stretching the collar of his T-shirt to reveal more skin, kissing and sucking every inch I uncovered. He made a desperate noise, and planted his hands on my ass, holding me tightly.

Yes! Yesyesyesyes. There was a very hard dick pressing against me, and I shifted against it. The closer we got, the happier I felt. But there were too many clothes in the way. I reared up to kiss him again, and our tongues tangled. “Rafe,” I moaned into his mouth.

“Mmm,” he answered, giving my ass such a dirty, sexy squeeze that I thought I might lose my mind.

I flopped to the side so I could touch him. Sliding a hand down his body, I let my fingers wander over his waistband and onto the hard bulge at his crotch. “I want to play with the nicest cock in the neighborhood.” I flipped the button on his jeans.

That’s when everything stopped.

First, his hand reached down to catch mine, pushing me off his fly. Then, he turned his face away, taking a big breath of air.

Oh no, my heart murmured. I knew immediately that I had wrecked everything. It’s just that my lust-muddled brain was too scrambled to process the reason.