by Piper James
I cleared my throat to break the awkward silence. “So, Lola, you’re still in college, right?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “I graduate next summer.”
“A year early,” Rafe added, a proud smile on his face.
“That’s impressive,” I said. “What are you studying?”
“Business,” she said. “Nate’s going to let me intern at the shop next summer, running the office and managing the books. With my degree and some experience under my belt, I should be able to get a job, no problem.”
“Not to mention, she’s been top of her class for two years and should be valedictorian when she graduates next year,” Rafe said.
“Wow. Good job,” I said, smiling at her. “That’s no easy feat. You should be proud of yourself.”
“I am,” she said, one side of her mouth quirking up. “But not half as proud as my big brother.”
Rafe was beaming at her, his lips turned up and his eyes shining with love. He was fully devoted to her, and Nate, too. Watching him with them, I began to decipher some of his inner workings. I knew their parents died when they were young, and Rafe, being eighteen, had basically finished raising them, himself.
And even though they were both now adults, he obviously hadn’t lost that “papa-bear” mentality. He demanded family dinners, remained present in their lives, and touted their accomplishments to others. He was still very much a parental figure to them, and they didn’t seem to mind.
Their family was close-knit, caring, and comfortable. And I loved everything about it.
I had a similar relationship with my dad, but this was different. Their bond made them seem whole in a way that I didn’t think I’d ever know.
“So, next week?” Nate asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
Everyone had finished eating, and Lola was bagging up the trash. I grabbed the last rolled taco from my plate before she could take it away. She laughed and held her palms up, leaving my plate where it was. I nodded and set the taco back down.
“Yeah, sounds good. Just text me first next time, okay?” Rafe said, making Nate laugh.
“You bet your ass I will. I’m going home to bleach my eyeballs, now. Have fun, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Which equates to nothing,” Lola deadpanned before she kissed Rafe on the cheek and followed Nate out the door.
Rafe waved goodbye before closing the front door and leaning back against it. We stared at each other for a moment, the tension building back up to where it was before his siblings arrived.
“That was…”
“I know. I’m sorry,” he apologized, pushing himself off the door to slowly stalk toward me.
“I was going to say fun,” I said, taking a small step backwards.
Being chased by Rafael Walton excited me beyond compare.
“I ran out here naked, with a hard cock and three condoms,” he said, taking another step toward me.
I chuckled, moving backwards again. “That was the best part.”
“Oh, you think so, Jessa?” At my nod, he cocked his head. “You are aware your shirt is on inside out, aren’t you?”
I looked down, realized he was right, and shrugged. “No comparison.”
“You’re right,” he said, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around my waist before I could retreat again. “We need to make a pact to never speak of my brother and sister seeing me naked again.”
“I can’t promise you that,” I said, tilting my head to give him better access as his mouth found my neck.
“Promise, and I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” he whispered, the tip of his tongue brushing against my ear and making me shiver.
“I’m pretty sure you’d let me do whatever I want either way,” I said, the last word ending on a groan as his hand slipped under my skirt.
“You’re right,” he murmured, walking backward toward the couch. He sat down, pulling me with him so I was once again straddling his lap. “Now, where were we?”
“Right here,” I growled, rubbing myself against him.
He was already hard, and the friction felt amazing. Within seconds, I was panting with need, and Rafe lifted me off his lap. I fell to the couch beside him, watching as he stripped off his shorts and rolled on a condom. Goddamn, I never thought watching a guy sheathe his sword would be so fucking hot.
I was pretty sure Rafe Walton would be hot doing his taxes.
Once he finished, he leaned back and just looked at me. When I didn’t move, he gave me a smile and said, “I’m yours. Do whatever you want with me.”
My heart froze in my chest at those words, interpreting them in an emotional way at first. Then, I realized he was referring to our previous conversation, and he meant them in a physical way. He was giving me carte-blanche to do what I wanted and lead this sexcapade in whichever direction my desire took me.
My mouth curved up, and he returned my smile, truly happy to make me happy. I scrambled back onto his lap, rubbing my slit along the length of his shaft as I kissed him. He kissed me back like he was starved for the taste of me, his tongue dueling with mine as his chest vibrated with hungry moans.
He wanted inside me, but it was lady’s choice, and he was following my lead. I lifted myself up and reached between us, squeezing his cock lightly as I angled it up and lowered myself onto it. Pushing down fast and hard, I took a moment to relish the feel of him inside me.
Rafe was panting hard, his fingers digging into my hips as I remained still. I could tell he wanted nothing more than take over and drive into me, and his resistance of that urge was costing him. His internal struggle made me feel powerful. Desired. And even hornier than I was before.
My internal walls squeezed him with a fresh wave of moisture, and Rafe growled with need. “Tell me what to do,” he said.
“Touch my boobs,” I whispered, my hips bucking against him as his hands immediately complied.
He stripped off my shirt, and his fingers massaged my tits before plucking at my nipples, sending a shot of electricity straight to my core. I lifted myself up and leaned forward, saying, “Lick them.”
He sucked one nipple into his hot mouth, flicking it with his tongue as his hand continued to fondle the other. Then he switched sides as I began to slowly move up and down, rolling my hips as I did.
God, Rafe felt so good. Everything about him was pleasure-inducing—his hands, his mouth, his body, his cock. My nerve endings sparked like fireworks as the heat built between us.
I found myself moving faster despite my desire to drag this out. My body had other ideas and was racing for the finish line. Rafe seemed to lose his resolve to let me control the show, his hands gripping my hips and guiding my movements, harder and faster until I screamed my release. He grunted and went rigid seconds later, and I melted against him, pressing my mouth against his in a slow, languid kiss.
“Wow,” he said when I pulled back. “Just…wow.”
“Me, too,” I sighed, laying my head against his shoulder. “Wow.”
23
Rafe
“Will you tell me about your parents?”
I was stretched out on the couch with Jessa draped across me after an amazing bout of sex, and the last thing I wanted to talk about was my parents. But her fingertips dancing across my chest, drawing lazy circles across my pecs and abs relaxed me in a way I hadn’t felt before, and not even the mention of Mamá and Papa could make me tense up and shut down.
If Jessa wanted to know, then I wanted to tell her. It was as simple as that.
“My mother died in a car crash when I was a senior in high school. I was with her in the car when we got sideswiped by a truck that ran a red light. She died within seconds, and I barely had a scratch on me.”
“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” Jessa said, wrapping her arm across my waist and squeezing.
“That’s part of why I wanted to become a doctor. I wanted to help people in the emergency room, save them if I could, and maybe prevent kids from losing th
eir parents so tragically. And I have. It’s very fulfilling.”
“I bet it is,” she whispered. “You’re amazing.” After a few moments, she broke the silence. “And your dad?”
“That story is even more tragic,” I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut as I rested my head back on the arm of the couch. “My very Irish father had always enjoyed a snifter of his very Irish whiskey in the evenings, but after we lost Mamá, he started drinking heavily. Eventually, he was drunk more than he wasn’t, and he was aggressively angry at everyone—but particularly me. I lived, and she didn’t.
“I left for college, even though I knew I shouldn’t have left Nate and Lola alone with him. I thought that’s what our mother would’ve wanted for me, and I was honoring her in some way. Nate called me a week later, in tears. Papa had slapped Lola across the face.”
“Oh, my God,” Jessa breathed, her grip on my waist tightening. I smoothed a hand over her back, somehow feeling the need to comfort her, even though this tragedy was mine.
“I rushed home, but by the time I got there, it was too late. Mortified and disgusted by his violence—he’d always been a gentle man with a loving heart—Papa locked himself in his bedroom, grabbed his pistol from the nightstand, and killed himself.”
Jessa’s tears dripped onto my chest as soft sobs shook out of her. I felt choked with emotion myself, but I never expected to get such a reaction from her.
“Hey,” I said softly, running my fingers through her hair, “it’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
She shook her head and sniffed loudly. “I’m sorry I asked you to talk about it. It’s none of my business.”
Most people in Milestone knew my mother had died in that car accident, but the police had helped keep the cause of my father’s death under wraps. It was reported as an accident, and no one who knew him had questioned the details.
And I’d never really talked about it with anyone…until now. With Jessa.
Somehow, instead of making me sad or angry, saying the words out loud had lifted a weight off my chest I hadn’t even known was there. I felt lighter. Freer. I couldn’t let Jessa feel bad when she’d made me feel so much better.
“Look at me, Jessa,” I said, and she lifted her head from my chest so I could search her tear-filled eyes. “You’re a good listener, and I’m glad I told you.”
Her gaze searched mine for several beats, then one corner of her mouth lifted. “Told you so. Bartender skills.” I laughed, and a true smile spread across her face before dropping. “That’s why you don’t drink.”
It was a statement, not a question, but I answered her anyway. “Yes.”
“And that’s why you tried to get me to check into rehab when you found me drunk at Dad’s house.”
“Sorry about that,” I said, flinching. “I promise I wasn’t being judgmental. I just can’t seem to stop flashing back to that night whenever I see inebriated people. I don’t want what happened to us to happen to another family.”
“I understand,” she said, “and I was telling you the truth when I said I rarely drink. I’ve watched too many drunks make asses of themselves to put myself in that situation. I mean, look what happened when I did.” She pointed a finger at herself and said, “I was a total ass.”
“No,” I said, grabbing that finger and biting the tip of it. “You were kind of adorable, actually.”
“Please,” she said, shaking her head. Then she peered at me through narrowed eyes. “It was your fault, anyway.”
“My fault? How is that?”
“Well,” she said, tiptoeing her fingertips up my chest, “you called and said you were coming over, and I was nervous. I thought I’d have a drink to take the edge off, and I went a little overboard.”
“Why were you nervous?” I asked, rubbing a palm down her back to squeeze her ass.
“Mm,” she moaned, rubbing her body against mine in a way that told me this conversation was nearly over. “Well, our first meeting didn’t exactly go…well.”
“Oh, you mean when you tried to take my eye out with your bra?” I whispered, my free hand moving to slip under her shirt to caress her bare breast.
“Oh, yeah,” she groaned. “I mean, yes. That was embarrassing.”
“What if I tell you something embarrassing about me to even the score?” I asked, gasping as her tongue darted out to lick my nipple.
“Tell me.”
“I couldn’t get the image of you on your knees in front of me out of my head.”
“Really?” she asked, pushing herself up.
“Really. I imagined you that way…when I was alone…in the shower.”
“You made yourself come?” she asked, her voice husky and her chocolate eyes even darker than usual.
“Hard,” I admitted, and my tongue darted out to wet my suddenly dry lips.
Jessa climbed off me before pulling my legs off the couch. I sat up, my heart pumping faster as she grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. She led me through my bedroom to the attached bathroom, releasing me to turn on the shower.
It felt like every drop of blood in my veins raced straight to my dick when she pulled her clothes off and stepped in under the spray. I stood motionless as I watched her hands follow the water streaming down her body, my head swimming from lack of oxygen. I’d forgotten to breathe—she was so beautiful.
“Are you coming?” she asked, shooting me a saucy wink.
I dropped my shorts, and Jessa moved to the side so I could step in and close the glass door. Turning my back to the spray, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. She kissed me for a moment before stepping back and sinking to her knees.
My heartbeat thundered in my chest as I reached up and adjusted the showerhead, keeping the spray out of Jessa’s face. She gave me a grateful little smile, and then her eyes dropped to my raging erection. Her pink tongue darted out, licking first her top lip, then the bottom one.
“In this fantasy, what did I do next?” she asked, her eyes never leaving my cock.
My first instinct was to tell her to do whatever she wanted—anything from her would feel good. But I didn’t say that. The excitement in her eyes told me she wanted instruction. She wanted me to tell her exactly what to do.
Though I hadn’t thought it possible, my cock hardened even further.
The images I’d conjured hadn’t actually been of her going down on me. I’d barely even begun to picture her naked beneath me when I’d come hard like a virgin touching himself for the first time. But Jessa wanted this, so I was going with it.
“You licked me from base to tip,” I said, my voice thick and scratchy.
I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the shower wall over her head. A second later, I was glad I had. My whole body spasmed as her hot tongue traced a path along my shaft before swirling around the tip. My eyes had squeezed shut at the glorious torture, but popped back open when the heat of her mouth disappeared.
“What next, Rafe?” she asked, her voice as husky as mine had been.
“You wrapped your fingers around it, stroking as you closed your mouth over the end.”
The last word came out as a groan. Her hand tightened around the base of my cock, stroking lightly as she took me into her mouth. Her tongue brushed over the sensitive skin as she bobbed her head, and I was sure I’d never felt anything better than this.
There was no more talking after that. Jessa knew exactly the right things to do. When to speed up. When to slow down. When to tighten her grip. When to soften it.
It was like she knew what I needed and reveled in giving it to me. I never wanted it to end, but there was no slowing down. The whole experience was amazing.
And I was sure nothing in my future could ever top it.
“Well, hello, Dr. Walton,” Ivy said as I strolled into the hospital for my next shift. “Long time, no see.”
“It’s been two days, Nurse Anderson,” I said, stressing the formal title.
“Exactly,” she said, following me into the employee locker
room. “You rarely take your days off. You just show up whether you’re called in or not. Having you out for two days in a row? Unheard of.”
I shoved my bag into my locker and closed the door, turning to face her. “What is your point?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Rafe,” she said, poking me in the chest with a finger. “What have you been up to?”
I sighed and scrubbed a palm down my face. I was going to have to tell her. She’d needle me until I did, so I knew I might as well get it over with.
“I was taking your advice,” I said. “Enjoying life outside this place.”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not buying it. Spill.”
“God, you’re so bossy, sometimes,” I complained. When she continued to stare at me with that suspicious glare, I sighed. “Fine. I’ve been spending time with Jessa.”
“I knew it,” she squealed, dancing around in a little circle. “Did she come over for her checkup?”
“I don’t kiss and tell, Ivy. You know that.”
“She did!” she squealed. “What do you say?”
I took a deep breath and let it out dramatically. “Thank you, Ivy.”
“Yes!” she said, holding up her hand for a high five.
I slapped mine against it, knowing she would be bummed if I didn’t. Then, I changed the subject, slipping into work mode.
“How have things been going here today?”
“It’s been a little slow,” she said. “There’s a fever waiting in room three and a broken finger in room six.”
She handed me two charts, and I scanned each of them before nodding. She turned to walk out, then spun back around.
“Oh, yeah. Can you give me a lift home tonight?”
“Of course. What’s wrong with your car?” I asked.
“Ugh,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “The battery was dead this morning. I had to ask my stinky neighbor for a ride.”
She gagged dramatically, making me laugh. The guy that lived in the apartment next to hers was a pothead who, gaging by the looks of him, only showered once a week.
