Rafe: Heroes at Heart

by Maryann Jordan

  He pressed his weight into the mattress next to her, his right hand moving underneath her shirt, skimming her skin until he cupped her breast over her bra. The fullness of it filled his hand and his lips left hers to nuzzle her shirt up, kissing her stomach as he went. He felt her tense and realized he was near the puckered scars along her side. Refusing to back away, he continued his ministrations. After a moment, he felt her relax and he smiled against her belly before moving higher, latching onto her lace-covered nipple.

  Moaning, Eleanor reveled in the sensations Rafe’s lips were wringing from her body. She had not been with a man since before her accident. She had convinced herself for years that sex was overrated and nothing to miss, but now knew she had lied. At least, with the right man…it was everything.

  She was fascinated by the play of muscles moving under her fingers as her hand continued to rove over his back. Her other arm curled around his neck, fingers gliding through his hair as she pressed him closer to her breasts. All thoughts of him discovering her scars faded to the background as he licked the top of them, spilling over her bra.

  Desperate to discover more of his body, she grasped his shirt, attempting to tug it upward but their reclining bodies kept it trapped. The movement brought his head up, and realizing what she wanted, he stood, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head in a smooth motion, dropping it to the floor.

  Leaning up on her elbows, she watched his chest heave, awed at his physical perfection. It was as though an Adonis had dropped into her life and she could not believe he was here with her. As his hands moved to his belt, her sudden intake of breath brought a smile to his lips. Sliding it out of the loops, he dropped the heavy leather to the floor, the clink of the buckle jolting her into action.

  Sitting up, she grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and, like ripping off a band-aid, she pulled it over her head. He stared at her heaving chest, her breasts barely contained in her bra. She hesitated as her hands reached for the front clasp and he watched as they shook slightly.

  “Babe,” he said, sweet emotion poured into the one word.

  She shook her head, holding his gaze, and said, “If you want me, Rafe, I have to know that you know what you’re getting.” With that, she unsnapped the bra, letting it drop behind her, exposing the reddened, rough scars along her right side from her hip to her shoulder, including the side of her breast.

  He moved his gaze along her body before landing on her eyes, a smile playing about his lips. “Jesus, babe. You’re beautiful.”

  Her fears slipped away at the sincerity in his eyes, his words sliding through to her heart. Still smiling, she leaned back, slipping her fingers underneath her waistband and slipping her pants down her legs, before she lost her courage. Tossing them to the side, she lay back down, completely naked for his perusal.

  Rafe’s breath stuck in his throat at the beauty laid bare before him. He towered over her, suddenly unsure, dragging his hands through his hair. “I…” Seeing the flicker of pain in her eyes, he hastily said, “I’m afraid of hurting you. You’re so petite…”

  Eleanor looked at the anxiety etched in Rafe’s tense jaw and smiled, reaching her hand out toward him. “The only thing that would hurt me is you walking away.”

  Holding her gaze, he nodded and dropped his jeans, kicking them to the side before crawling over her body, a grin on his face. Once more exploring her body with his hands, he latched onto a nipple as his hand slipped between her legs. Her slick folds welcomed him and as he slid a finger into her channel, her hips bucked upward in an involuntary seeking of more.

  She felt his chuckle against her breast and clutched him tighter to her. Close to the edge already, it only took his finger dragging inside while his thumb pressed against her clit to push her over the edge. Throwing her head back into the mattress, she groaned out his name while her inner core pulsated with her release. Quivering from her orgasm, she gasped as his warm lips left her nipple, moving back to her mouth.

  Rafe’s soul shook as her body melted into his, her trust in him overwhelming. Sliding his hand from her core, he fought to hold on as he skimmed upward to cup her face. Finally lifting his head, he smiled down at her, his heart pounding as the light in her eyes beamed warmly.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Anything, babe. You only have to ask.”

  “I want you, Rafe. I need you. All of you.”

  His reply was rough with need, “God, yes. You’ve got me.” Moving away to grab the condom in his wallet, he rolled it on, his fingers shaking. “Hell, I haven’t felt like this…ever.”

  “What are you afraid of?” Eleanor whispered, her fears snaking around her heart.

  “You…you’re perfect,” Rafe whispered in return, crawling back over her body, nestling his aching cock against her folds, the warmth almost unmanning him immediately.

  His words shocked her but, searching his eyes, Eleanor observed only truth. He watched as her brow knit and added, “Babe, you are more than the sum of your scars. You are all that is individually you. Strength, character, beauty.”

  A tear formed, sliding down the side of her head and she watched as his eyes traced its path before coming back to hers.

  “I’m just happy,” she said, her voice still a whisper, reaching her hands up to cup his strong jaw. “I never thought that I’d…well…”

  Rafe stopped her thanks with a kiss, not wanting her gratitude. Soft and slow, he explored her warmth, moving his hips slowly against her core. She widened her legs and he shifted his cock to her entrance. Without lifting his lips from hers, he mouthed, “You sure?”

  Her nod, along with her hands clutching his back, was his answer. Sliding in, careful at first before plunging in to the hilt, he hissed through closed teeth at the heat hitting him. Her core closed tightly around his cock and he looked down, hanging on to his sanity long enough to make sure she was comfortable.

  “Move,” she ordered, her eyes closed, her fingers digging into his back as her heels dug into his ass.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he grinned against her lips, thrusting his tongue in tangent with his cock as he rocked in and out. Wanting her to come again, he ground his pelvis against her clit, eliciting moans from her he felt in his chest.

  Eleanor’s body felt alive, tingling in ways she had forgotten. His muscles corded and flexed underneath her fingers, his chest rubbed against her nipples, his lips teased and taunted hers. The coil starting deep inside wound tighter until she thought she would go mad with longing. Shifting slightly, his penetration hit a place deep inside, causing her orgasm to jolt through her body, ripping his name from her lips.

  As Eleanor’s slick walls clenched around him, Rafe threw his head back, his neck muscles straining as his own orgasm rushed over his body, pumping inside of her until drained. Falling, barely moving to the side as he crashed to the mattress, he kept his arms around her, pulling her in tightly, not wanting an inch of space between them.

  “Thank you,” she said, her face tucked into his neck.

  “Whatever for?”

  “For not treating me as though I was broken.”

  Pulling her tighter, he said, “Baby, you’re not broken. You’re the bravest person I know.”

  Eleanor felt his sweat-slicked body tucked into hers and reveled in the delicious feeling of bliss. As they cooled, their ragged breathing slowing. They clung to each other, the outside world kept at bay, as they lay in the tiny, fairytale cottage at the edge of the woods.

  22

  Eleanor lay in her bed, the morning sun peeking through the curtains. Those aren’t my heavy draperies. Blinking several times, she tried to discern where she was. The cottage! Memories of the previous night flooded her mind and, unable to keep the grin from her face, she stretched her body. The normal tightness of her scars was still present, but easily eclipsed by the slight tingling between her legs. It had been a long time since she had had sex and never with someone like Rafe…handsome, huge, and oh, so caring.

&n
bsp; Rolling over, the smile dropped from her face as she realized she was alone in his bed. Like a punch to the gut, she gasped with the knowledge he had slipped out earlier. She lay for a moment, uncertainty filling her being. Do I go? Looking around, she spied her clothes on the chest, folded neatly. Dropping her chin to her chest, she grimaced. Oh, God. How embarrassing. He gets up to leave and I’m out like a rock.

  Tilting her head to the side, she listened to see if she could hear him in the cottage or the lawn equipment running, but no sounds met her ears. Even though she knew she needed to get back to her house, she hesitated for a moment, sighing deeply. My first walk of shame…and with an employee that I have to see every day. No—not see. I’ll just go back into hiding and pretend he doesn’t exist. As she stood and moved toward the chest, her eyes locked onto the mirror. Her upper chest was pink from his day-old beard. Her nipples were hard with the memory of his head on her breasts. Her hair, normally sleek, was wild and untamed.

  Staring into the mirror, her scars were just as stark as always, but latching onto the reflection of her eyes, she finally accepted that there was more to her than just scars. She was a woman. A woman who once more felt alive, even if it was just for a few hours.

  Turning away, she reached out, plucking her panties from the chest when the door suddenly opened. Gasping, she jumped back, trying to cover her nakedness with her hands.

  Rafe stood in the doorway, his jawline even darker from not shaving, his smile wide and white against his tan face, and his eyes searching first the bed and then darting over to where she stood. “Hey beautiful,” he greeted.

  Holding her panties in a pathetic gesture, trying to hide behind them, she ignored the tray in his hand and said, “I thought you left.”

  Cocking his head to the side, he asked, “Why would I leave?” Scowling, he added, “And why would you think that I would?”

  Blushing from head to toe, she said, “Please turn around so that I can dress.”

  Stalking into the room, he placed the breakfast tray onto the bed and walked straight to her, not stopping until his toes were directly in front of hers. “Babe, I’ve already seen you naked and I thought we established last night that I think you’re gorgeous.” He placed his hands gently on her shoulders, watching her swallow nervously, her eyes darting down. Acknowledging her uncomfortable stance, he snagged a blanket from the bottom of the bed and threw it around her shoulders, but instead of letting her wrap herself completely in it, he pulled her forward slightly so that her front pressed against his, the blanket snuggly covering the rest of her. Lifting her chin with his fingers, he repeated, “But I want to know why you think I would leave.”

  “I woke alone,” she replied. When he did not comment, she continued, “It wasn’t a poor, pity-me moment. I just figured it was a one-night kind of thing.”

  “That tells me what you thought, but if I made you think for one second that it was a one-night fling, then I must have done something wrong.”

  Her gaze jumped up to his, her head leaning way back now that they were so close. Shaking her head, she whispered, “You didn’t do one thing wrong. It was perfect. I just know that it didn’t have to mean anything.”

  “Then you don’t know me. I assure you, it was not just sex.”

  She sucked in her lips, uncertain how to respond.

  He bent his head, his lips meeting hers in a feather soft kiss. She melted into his body, his arms now encircling her. One hand pressed her back and the other cupped her head. Not hiding his erection, he pulled her closer so that his aching cock was tight against her belly. Sliding her hand between them, she cupped his shaft, feeling the pearl drop of precum on the tip. Hearing his gasp, she smiled, feeling the power in her simple touch.

  “Baby,” he croaked before clearing his throat, “are you sure, ‘cause I only want to do this if you’re sure—”

  “I’m sure,” she interrupted, lifting on her toes to kiss him again. His warm breath washed over her face as she whispered, “This means something to me too.”

  With a growl, he picked her up in his arms and laid her back on the bed, rattling the plate of fruit he had on the tray. Sliding down her body, he kissed each inch as he disappeared between her legs.

  Eyes wide, Eleanor gasped again, this time with the sensation of his breath on her clit. She widened her legs, forcing her scarred hip to stretch.

  He halted her with his hands on her thighs, mumbling, “This is for pleasure, babe, not pain. Don’t force your leg. Just relax.”

  Smiling, she let each muscle relax as his tongue worked its magic. Soon, clutching the sheet, her body bucked into the air as her orgasm rushed over her, sending waves of tingles through her core. Lifting her head, she watched as he kissed his way back up her body until his lips latched onto hers.

  Pulling back slightly, he grinned down. “Now that’s what I call a great wake up.”

  “What about you?” she grinned, her smiling lips moving over his.

  He pressed his cock between her legs, against her warm core, and continued to show her a great wake up call. It was another hour before they had the fruit he prepared.

  “Here, try this.”

  Eleanor looked askance at the jar of goop in Rafe’s hand, before looking back at his face, seeing his enthusiasm. “Uh…what is it?”

  “Miss Ethel has pale skin and yet, she likes to be out in the sun working on her flower beds in the yard. So, for years, she has used this to help protect her skin.”

  Lifting her eyebrows, she leaned over the proffered jar and sniffed.

  Laughing, he said, “It won’t bite, I promise.”

  “What’s in it?” she asked, her nose wrinkling.

  He bent over, kissing the tip of her nose. “I asked her and she wrote it on the jar. It’s got lavender, pomegranate oil, coconut oil, zinc oxide and shea butter. She swears by it. And,” he added, pulling out another jar, “here is something for the scar tissue. It can help as well.”

  Smiling, she dipped her fingers in the first concoction and smoothed it on her face and neck. Still wearing long sleeves and long pants, she did not worry about her arms and legs, but rubbed some of the cream on her hands.

  “Thank you,” she said, beaming up at him.

  “I like having you out here in the yard with me sometimes, but want you to be careful.” Handing both jars to her, he kissed her lips before nodding toward the terrace. “Go on and work there where you’re somewhat protected. I’ll be in the rose garden for a while.”

  She watched him walk away, his confidence shining in the way he carried his body. Looking down at the jars in her hand, her heart warmed at his caring gesture. Inhaling a deep breath, the scent of flowers in the air, she turned and walked over the vibrant green, freshly mown grass, admiring the landscape. The thought of how much her parents would love the way the gardens were tended, flitted through her mind. They would have liked Rafe. That realization jolted her, but instead of tears, she smiled. Walking up to the shaded terrace, she settled onto the chaise lounge.

  That evening, Eleanor rubbed her sweating palms on the thighs of her jeans, her eyes pinned on the sign above the door. Roberto’s Mexican Grill.

  “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this, you know.”

  She looked over at Rafe, observing the concern etched on his face. When he first suggested they go into town for a meal, she turned him down flat. Then, guilt set in, and she decided she could not have a relationship with him and continue to hide away. Now, sitting in the parking lot, she let out a long, slow breath in an attempt to steady her racing heartbeat.

  “No, no, it’s all good,” she said, her words more convincing than the tone of her voice. “I can do this. I need to do this.”

  He reached over and took her hands in his much larger ones. “I’m right here. Right here by your side.”

  She stared into his eyes and her tremulous smile focused on him. “That’s the only way I could do this…with you by my side.”

  With a squeeze, he climbed
down, hurrying around the hood to the passenger door, assisting her from his truck. With his arm protectively around her, he escorted her to the door. For their first foray, he chose a Tuesday night, thinking the restaurant would not be very crowded and the almost empty parking lot proved that theory correct.

  The dim interior gave her a sense of privacy and, as the hostess showed them to a booth in the corner, she looked around in interest. Spicy scents, mixed with grease, filled the air. Pictures of turn-of-the-century Mexico lined the walls. A bar took up the right side of the restaurant but only a few men sat at one end.

  Breathing a sigh of relief as she looked around, she realized there was no threat here. Leaning over, she said, “Now, I feel rather foolish.”

  “Why?”

  “I haven’t been to a restaurant since before I left to go to Afghanistan. In protecting myself, I also denied myself.”

  He reached across the table and rubbed his fingers on her hands. “No more denying whatever you want to do.”

  The teenage waitress’ eyes dropped to Eleanor’s neck scars a few times, but she took their order without any hesitation. As she walked away, Eleanor leaned back, exhausted from her wariness.

  A group of men sat at the bar, one who kept turning around to look at her. She noticed, but since he was behind Rafe, she remained quiet. After a few minutes, their appetizers were served and they dug into the pile of loaded nachos.

  Focused on their food, she startled when a shadow crossed their table. Looking up, she stared, wide-eyed, at the man who had been watching her. He was an older man, but his scraggly, grey beard and motorcycle jacket with chains rattling gave him an edge. Before he had a chance to speak, Rafe was on his feet.

  “You need something?” Rafe growled, his eyes pinned on the man staring at Eleanor.

  Ignoring him, the man asked, “You the Bellamy girl?”

  Rafe, stepping between the man and her, said, “You need to back away. Now.”

  Much to her surprise, the man ignored him once again and repeated, “You the Bellamy girl?”