Page 62 of Falling for Raine

“It’s you.” Raine climbed atop me, naked and laughing. His cheeks were flushed from the blowjob I’d accidentally interrupted by pushing the cover over his head so I could see his talented mouth in action. “You’re the blanket hog.”

“That’s not very nice,” I chided playfully, rolling over to slide between his legs and pin his arms next to his head. “Now…where were we? Oh, yes, I was about to?—”

I leaned in to nuzzle his neck and at the last second, blew a raspberry instead.

Raine yelped, arching and purring when his erection nudged mine. So I did it again. And again.

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck. Just…fuck me.”

I suited up in a flash, adding lube and fingering his hole till he chanted my name. I kissed him hard and hungry, then motioned for him to lie on his stomach.

Christ, he was beautiful. Slim and sinewy yet strong. My gaze flitted over his shoulders and down his spine, lingering on the dimples at his lower back and finally on his perfect bubble butt. I might have been taller and bigger than him, but we fit like a glove. I trembled with anticipation as I tapped his entrance with the tip of my dick and eased inside my lover.

I kissed his nape and nibbled his earlobe, waited for his signal to move before pulling out slowly and pushing in again. And again. I dragged my cock along his sweet spot, loving his soft moans as I gradually upped the tempo. Not too fast. We’d been going at it like bunnies for days now, and I didn’t want to hurt him. Of course, Raine grunted for more, reaching behind to smack my thigh.

I chuckled softly and pulled out. “Turn around.”

He obeyed, spreading his legs wide and clutching my arse. I smiled and probably called him cheeky or something ridiculous that he seemed to like, and we just stared at each other and laughed. It felt more intimate than anything we’d ever done. It was as if I could see a window to his soul and—no.

That was…nonsense.

Maybe so, but my heart swelled in my chest with every stroke and sigh. I pistoned my hips faster in a weak attempt to outrunmy swirling thoughts. He met me thrust for thrust, his eyes locked on mine as we came together, hot and hungry, grinding and groaning in a feverish quest for something just out of reach.

I licked his lips, jacking his cock. “Come for me, love.”

His eyelids fluttered as he panted my name and fell apart in my arms. My orgasm hit me a moment later and yes, it was everything I loved about sex. The rush of adrenaline and the feeling of floating somewhere above it all.

But this felt different. This was Raine.

Somehow he was the significant detail. He was a piece to a puzzle I’d been working on for decades. He was the link to a murky past and hopeful future. He was a beginning and an end and he was…mine.

My eyes snapped open in a panic.

He draped himself over me like a greedy cat with his head on my chest, one arm and one leg pinning me in place. I was too wrung out and sated in the aftermath to mind the weight of him, but my heart beat like a drum as my mind tripped over what I wanted and what could never be.

The truth was…I wanted to hold him while he slept. I wanted to count the faint freckles on his nose and admire his long eyelashes. I wanted to feel his breath on my cheek and his heart beating against mine.

I wanted…Raine.

I brushed his hair from his forehead and pressed a kiss on his brow, wondering why this suddenly seemed so complicated.

16

RAINE

Someone, pinch me. The stars were aligning for the first time in what felt like forever, and I was on top of the fucking world.

I had money in the bank, thanks to the admittedly unconventional research job I’d completed for The Horsham Group, an interview with a historian who worked closely with a curator from the British Museum, and I was actually beginning to like the banjo. That was probably because I’d spent every night since we’d returned from Cornwall in Graham’s bed. And yes, that last one was by far my favorite thing.

Graham, not the banjo.

I was afraid our weekend getaway would be our last big hoorah, and while I told myself I was okay with that, I knew it would hurt to walk away from Graham. Our shelf life was limited and that aspect hadn’t changed, but we hadn’t agreed to a definitive end date.

The trip to Cornwall was the logical choice as it officially wrapped up my business with The Horsham Group and would roughly coincide with the deal they were anxious to close. I’d half expected Graham to remind me to gather my belongingsand send me on my way when we pulled to the curb outside his house. That didn’t happen.

So maybe the bigadioswould come the following morning or after work. But nothing changed.

Day two, I finally caved.