Page 13 of Break Away (Riot MC Next Generation #2)

Chapter nine

Taking Chances

Alexandra

The break-in aside, this had been a fantastic evening. Rafferty was right. We needed to get to know each other again - yet I felt so comfortable with him it was like getting my best friend back. I felt a warmth and relaxation I hadn’t felt with anyone, ever.

The stress of straightening Ines’s room wore on me earlier, and I’d been thinking it was too bad I didn’t have any kind of ice cream in the freezer.

Leave it to Rafferty to remember my favorite dessert.

Then it hit me what his other motivation might have been for it.

No. No. He’d always been thoughtful and sweet.

‘Any man biding his time to get in your pants is far from sweet.’

Gah!

Why couldn’t I get those words out of my head?

“Your mochi needs five minutes at least, so which will it be, champagne or—”

“Champagne,” I said.

Rafferty took the bottle out of the fridge while giving me a probing look. “Cool. Any reason in particular? If you think I can take that other bottle back for a refund, think again.”

I wandered into the kitchen and grabbed two coupe glasses Grandma gave me when I moved out of Mom and Dad’s house.

Once I set both glasses on the counter, I caught Rafferty’s gaze. “I think you’re right - that this is a special occasion. Not that either of us had our heads up our—”

He put his finger to my lips. “How many times did you high-tail it out of a room when I got there?”

This time, I gave into temptation and nipped at the pad of his index finger. “How many times did you ignore my presence in a room?”

“One hundred and forty-three,” he said, taking his finger back and peeling the foil from the champagne bottle.

“What?” I almost yelled.

He smirked. “Give or take a few.”

I laughed. “You are…”

“Just like you, Lex. Stubborn, loyal, and dependable.”

“Here, I was thinking you’re incorrigible. And stop listening to your mom about your Taurus astrology sign.”

He chuckled. “ Our astrology sign, since our birthdays are three days apart.”

The pop of the champagne cork derailed any retort I had. “I love that sound,” I muttered.

He poured into each glass. “Yeah, it’s a good sound.”

An awkward feeling threatened to overtake me, and with anyone else, it might have. Since this was Rafferty, I willed myself to ignore the awkwardness.

He handed me a glass and put his to his lips.

“Whoa. We aren’t going to toast?”

He held his glass aloft. “To extracting our heads from our asses.”

“Rafferty!” I cried.

He dipped his chin. “I’m a biker, Lex. Champagne toasts are for weddings and not much else. Unless you got a toast, I say we drink up.”

I gave him my driest smile. “To taking chances… after all these years.”

His smirk reappeared. “Always so eloquent.” He touched his glass to mine. “To taking chances.”

We sipped our drinks for a moment, then I wandered to the counter where he’d placed the mochi. I hadn’t seen the box, and once I did, I whirled to face Rafferty. “S’mores? I didn’t even know they made such a flavor!”

He kept his glass in front of his lips. “I didn’t either, but I know you love s’mores, and I figured I couldn’t go wrong. And if that doesn’t work out, there’s still strawberry in the freezer.”

Words were on the tip of my tongue, but I had to hold them back. Telling him, ‘Oh my God, I love you,’ held a little extra punch at this point.

We ate our mochi bites, and I successfully kept myself from moaning. Once I knew where he found the S’mores flavor, I was going to that store and buying all the boxes. Budget schmudget and calories be damned.

“What are we watching tonight?” Rafferty asked.

“Something short. I have to be out the door by seven-fifty tomorrow morning.”

His eyes darted to the time displayed on the oven. “It’s not even eight-thirty, Lex. How many hours of sleep do you need?”

Maybe I’d misread him… dealing with a home invasion had a way of killing the mood.

“I’m getting up at six-thirty, so I can take a quick shower and cram a little more before heading out the door, which means I need to go to bed at eleven.”

He downed the last of his champagne, set his glass on the counter, and closed the distance between us. “You have a TV in your bedroom. Are we vegging out there or on the couch?”

“My room,” I murmured.

He nodded once. “More champagne or are you good?”

“Champagne is no good when it’s flat, then it’s just wine.”

“Go cue up a show. I’ll bring your glass.”

Butterflies swarmed in my belly when I entered my room.

Standing next to my bed, I took my shoes off.

Then I realized I wasn’t sure where the remote was.

Rafferty had put my clothes back in the drawers, and stacked my books next to my desk and nightstand.

Unlike at my parents’ house, he hadn’t made my bed.

I moved to the other side of the room, thinking perhaps the remote had been tossed under the bed.

“What are you looking for?” Rafferty asked, putting two glasses on the night stand.

“The remote.”

He lifted his chin. “Sorry, I put that under your pillow. I’d meant to put it on the nightstand and forgot when I got a call from Cal.”

I put a knee on the bed and climbed in, grabbing the remote from beneath a pillow. “You told him about the break-in, too, I take it.”

Rafferty sat on the edge of the bed and tugged off his boots. “Yep.”

I turned on the television, navigated to Netflix, and froze.

“What are you thinking about, Alexandra?” Rafferty asked, settling next to me with his back to the headboard.

I glanced at him. “This is like… God, I’m such a stereotype.”

“You lost me.”

I cocked a brow at him. “Netflix… and chill?”

He closed his eyes and exhaled. Then he slouched in the bed, reached out and pulled me toward him. I went with the flow and stretched out alongside him.

“You’re not a stereotype. Pull up YouTube instead and cue up a bunch of music videos. I don’t fuckin’ care. I’m going at your pace, and something makes me think you want to hold off for—”

The last thing I wanted was to hold off.

Rather than let him finish his sentence, I let go of the remote, leaned up, and kissed him.

His hands skated down my torso to my hips, and he lifted me on top of him.

I spread my legs so I straddled him. He moved his hands from my hips to my ass.

I loved feeling his fingers spread wide there.

A variety of sensations coursed through my body, from sheer excitement, to heat in my breasts, to wetness in my pussy that did nothing to soothe the deep ache I felt there as well.

Rafferty pulled at my ass, which ground me against his erection. He broke the kiss and stared up at me. “Are you sure you’re ready, Lex? I don’t want you to do this because you feel rushed or obligated or—”

I moved my hips against him. “I’m very sure, Raff. It’s gonna hurt, but as I understand it—”

He cut me off with a quick kiss. “Gonna do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t hurt that bad, baby.”

His words sent a chill racing down my body. Still, I smiled at him. “That’s good to know.”

“Do you want music playing? Or do you just want to make out some more?”

I lowered my lips to his.

“Both,” I murmured just before I kissed him.

He chuckled, rolled us over, and grabbed the remote before he broke away from my kiss. “Time to see if your taste in music has changed,” he muttered, and twisted at the waist so he could bring up one of my music playlists on YouTube.

The opening notes of “Sailor Song” filled the room. Rafferty tossed the remote on the other side of my queen bed, then he stole my attention when he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

I’d gone out of my way to ignore his bare chest yesterday, but now… I took in the entirety of his ink and muscles. “Great gracious, you’re a walking work of art.”

His eyes glittered. “For you.”

My head tilted on the pillow. “What?”

“The majority of this ink is for you.”

I blinked for a moment and shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

A huge capital ‘A’ sat over his heart. He grabbed my hand and put it over the tattoo. “You wanted the story behind just one of my tattoos. That one’s for you.”

“No, Raff. That’s a college football logo.”

He dipped his chin, seriousness filling his eyes. “Look closer, woman. You’ve seen my dad’s tat since it’s on his bicep and he rarely wears sleeves. It’s not the same.”

I pulled my hand free of his hold, and traced the lines. He was right. It was different…but to an untrained eye, he could pass it off as a bad take on a popular logo.

My gaze met his. “But why?”

“You’re the one who stole my heart a long fucking time ago.”

This was getting way too deep… and venturing into superstitious territory for me.

As though he could read my thoughts, Rafferty said, “And Blake told me not to do it. Even said you’d be the first to point out it’s bad luck.”

“You did it anyway.”

His brows shot up. “Yeah. Like I said, you’re as much mine as I am yours.”

“You’re not allowed to be this sweet to me.”

A sly grin curled his lips. “Trust me, I’m going to be anything but sweet in a few minutes. You gonna let me take your shirt off?”

I nodded, wishing I’d worn a fancier bra.

He leaned up so he stood on his knees, pulling me up to a sitting position. Then he sat on his calves and his eyes watched his hands lift the hem of my t-shirt. I lifted my arms and he pulled my shirt off.

His eyes roved from my face along my torso and back up to my eyes. “You are so fucking gorgeous, Alexandra.”

I lifted my hands and had them half way to my bra clasp when Rafferty shook his head. “What? I thought I’d help you out.”

He grabbed my hands and guided them to his shoulders. “No way, Lex. I’m taking your bra off. Can’t fuckin’ tell you how often I’ve thought about this very moment.”

My chin dipped with my bashful look.

His hands went to my back and in seconds he unclasped my bra. “I’m serious, Robertson.”

“Should we dim the lights? I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing about you would ever disappoint me. You have to know that.”