She was ready to cave . . .
“Hey, gorgeous.” He breathed, wasting no time pressing his open mouth to the side of her neck, dotting a single moist kiss to the skin below her ear. She begged her body not to tremble from the nearness of his lips, but it was almost impossible when they moved to her mouth and dusted a swift, gentle kiss across her lips. Caving. She was caving . . .
She missed him. An ache so painful it burned had lived inside her for the last four days. Longing dripped heady, carnal need into her body, drowning her resolve.
Gentle fingers held her elbow, his other hand pinning her by the small of her back. Caving . . .
“Don’t dance, babe,” he pleaded, pressing another kiss to her lips before she pulled away.
And just like that, the weakness this man was capable of instilling in her left her with his words.
She laughed. “Rafe, you came to me—you came to my club—my burlesque club—to ask me not to dance?”
“Dammit, Fallon. Don’t you get it? Don’t you realize how fuckin’ bad I want you? How much it’s killing me right now not to push you up against the wall and show you just how bad I want you?”
Wanting her didn’t have a damn thing to do with this. She thrust her palms against his chest and pushed out of his embrace. Grabbing on to his hand, she led him quickly through the club and up the stairs that led backstage. Naomi’s and Jade’s eyes darted to her as she stormed past them and down the hall to her office.
She slammed the door behind him. “You’re fucking drunk,” she spat. “What were you thinking, coming here and causing a scene in my club?”
Rafe’s hands scrubbed over his face a few times, over his head, then latched onto the back of his neck as he looked up at the ceiling.
“Back to your old habits, huh?” she accused, the volume of her voice pulling his eyes to level on hers. “Finding your distraction at the bottom of a bottle?” she yelled.
She meant her words to hurt him. But all they did was hurt her.
His arms opened up, flailing out to his sides. “Just drinking away my heartache,” he confessed, spitting her words back at her. His hand fisted, punching his chest hard over his heart. “Drinking away the fucking hole where you used to be.”
Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but he didn’t give her the chance.
His steps were quick and his strides long. His body crashed into hers with a force that would have sent her flying onto her rear had his arms not secured around her waist at the exact moment their bodies collided. She could feel the hot stream of air leave his mouth and bounce off her lips. “What am I supposed to do? You were my distraction, babe. You were the only one who was capable of shifting my focus until all I could see was you! So you tell me. What the fuck am I supposed to distract myself with when all I can think about is you?”
The second the words left his mouth, his hands flew to the sides of her face and he slammed his mouth to hers. She had no choice but to reciprocate his forcible lips and kiss him with the ferocity and passion that had been swelling up inside her since the moment she saw him at the door.
His hands dug painfully into her hips, her fingernails biting into the back of his neck, each trying to get closer to the other, only to fail and try again.
Rafe walked forward, forcing her steps backward until her back collided with her desk. Hoisting her onto the desk, Rafe plunged his tongue into her mouth, crazed and frenzied and hungry. Wrapping her legs around him, she threaded her arms around his back, pulling her closer to him. She couldn’t get enough. Never enough.
“Don’t dance, babe,” he mumbled against her lips—and she pulled away.
Their breathing was jagged, their chests heaving vigorously.
“What?” she said.
His hands found their way back to her face, holding her in place as he looked into her eyes as if she were the only thing keeping him together. She broke a little more.
“I’ll go to jail if I see those fuckers out there looking at this body that belongs to me. Please.” His voice, only seconds before ireful and hard, had softened into a plea. And it tore at her. It tore at every single shred of her heart.
She wanted to do it for him. She wanted to ease his anger and steal his thoughts. But this was her. He needed to accept her.
“I’m dancing, Rafe,” she said calmly.
“Babe.” His dangerous eyes narrowed, stubbled jaw tightened, nostrils flared. His breathing became labored and heavy. A warning . . .
She held his smoldering gaze. “I’m dancing,” she repeated.
Disappointment crossed his face, and it crushed her. He shook his head and, spinning around, flung her heavy metal door open. It slammed into the wall.