Page 96 of Not Safe for Work

He looks up at me, his expression vulnerable. “I’m fine. Thank you for trying.”

I shrug and rub his back. “I was about as successful as when you tried to stick up for me,” I joke, and he looks at me and smiles. “Do you want to leave?”

He shakes his head as he glances across the restaurant. David has returned to his seat on the far side of the room.

“No.” He slaps his hands on the table. “Absolutely not. He’s not ruining our day. Let’s go eat.”

Two hours later, Rafe and I ascend on the elevator to our suite, sugar running through our veins. Thankfully, David and Diane left shortly after our confrontation, so we didn’t have to speak with either of them again.

“That was all so good,” I say, licking the corner of my lip, where I can still taste the chocolate sauce from my last profiterole.

“Stop,” Rafe says, pushing me against the wall and caging me in his arms. He bends down and licks the chocolate away.

“Hey, that was mine,” I protest.

He chuckles and then we come together in a crushing kiss of berries and honey and a flavor that is distinctly Rafe. It’s intoxicating and heady, and I’m falling so hard that it feels like I’ve just plunged headfirst off a waterfall.

This is bad. This will probably destroy me. I remember the moment when I knew Leo would be bad for me, but I went for it anyway, ignoring my cautious inner voice. But this feels totally different. Rafe might ruin me, but not in the same way. What if this could be okay? What if I could let go and allow myself to slide into this?

If I ever want to be in a relationship again, then I have to find a way to trust someone.

Rafe’s hand slides under the hem of my shorts, fingers skating the edge of my underwear, and it feels like the only thing that could stop me is if the cable snapped and this elevator plummeted twenty stories to the ground.

Even then, with all of my bones shattered, I’d want to keep kissing him.

We arrive on our floor intact, and the elevator doors slide open with a ding. Rafe hooks his hands under my thighs, my legs trapping his waist as he carries me to our door. After some fancy maneuvering, we get it unlocked and tumble inside.

My feet slide to the ground, and I press my hands to his chest, pushing his back against the door. My palms splayed flat, my fingers quest over the toned, hard muscles welded together to create the perfect armature of this man. Slowly, I memorize every line and angle before falling to my knees.

“Tris,” he hisses as I lower his zipper one torturous inch at a time, looking up at him with an innocent doe-eyed smile that I hope ruins him, too. His erection tents his boxer briefs as I yank down on the waistband.

I wrap my hand around his thick cock, licking the tip and swirling my tongue around the head before drawing him into my mouth. With an agonized moan, his head thunks against the door.

“Oh fuck. Tris,” he groans as his fingers thread through my hair. With my hand and my mouth, I lick and suck and pump, feeling him grow bigger and harder as his hips tilt with rhythmic thrusts. I slowly peel him apart, making him come undone as I revel in this power and the sounds he’s making as he melts under my touch.

After a minute, he pulls me up and flips me around, so now I’m the one against the door. He sucks on the curve of my throat as he unbuttons my shirt.

“I have to confess that I’ve fantasized about you on your knees,” he says as he cups my breast.

“You have?”

He pulls away to look in my eyes with a mischievous glint. “Yeah, but it wasn’t quite like that.”

“How?”

He tugs down the zipper of my shorts and eases them over my hips. “First, I’d call you into my office and tell you to close the door.” My shorts drop to the floor as my chest flutters with tight breaths. “Then I’d tell you to close the blinds.”

My breath turns sharp, scraping the back of my throat. “Okay. I close the blinds. Then what?”

I work on his T-shirt, lifting the hem and pulling it over his head. My nails drag down the planes of his chest and his stomach and the V of his hip creases as he leans down and brings his mouth to my ear.

“I tell you to remove all your clothes except your high heels. You’re in those man-eating black ones with the red soles. I fucking love those shoes.”

An involuntary whimper seeps from my mouth as he strips off my shirt and yanks down my bra cup before he leans down and sucks on my nipple. My back arches against the door as he grinds his hips into mine.

“Then you get on your knees and crawl to me.” My thighs clench because that sounds super hot. “Then you stop at my feet and slide your hands up my legs.” His thigh finds its way between my knees as he presses his leg to my pulsing center. “Then you undo my pants and suck on my cock.”

I’m squirming against his leg, trying to find the relief of friction.