Page 86 of Burn for You

I laugh, my eyes finally breaking contact with the man across from me. Instead, I turn my head to face Leo. “All you have to do is tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. It’s easy.”

Leo chances a glance at the rest of our friends, but they’re all caught up in their own conversation about a rodeo party to pay any attention to what’s going on at this end of the table.

“You’re playing with fire, Whitley.” He grins before reaching up and tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Maybe I like to get burned.”

The table rattles and I jump to see Rafael glaring at me, his fist on the table where it just landed.

“Raf, you good?” Heath asks from beside him. But he doesn’t take notice. He just keeps his eyes locked on mine and the little butterflies are performing a gymnastics routine in my stomach at the heat in his eyes.

“Great,” he grits out. “March just has a stain on her dress.”

“I’ll get it later.”

“I think you should get it now.”

I turn to Leo. “Do you see a stain?”

He doesn’t even get a chance to answer before I’m being pulled off his lap and thrown over a gigantic shoulder.

I don’t look up as I’m being hauled away. I don’t even want to think about what my friends are thinking right now, so I just stare at the ass right in my view.

Rafael turns a corner, and I know we are in the hallway that leads to the bathrooms, Marina’s office, and some storage rooms. I hear a door being yanked open and then I’m in a dark, small room where the door is shut before I’m let out of Rafael’s arms.

I get whiplash as I’m suddenly pushed up against a wall. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Rafael’s deep voice growls out.

“Right now? Feeling for a light switch.” It’s true, my hands are roaming the wall for any feel of a switch.

I hear two quiet clicks and the sound of a chain rattling as a dim light floods the room. We are in the supply closet.

I grin. “Well, this is ironic.”

Rafael’s hands hit the wall on either side of me, caging me in. “Don’t play with me, Whitley.”

I groan. “But it’s so fun.”

“Is this what we’re doing now, huh?” He leans down so we are face to face. “Pretending you still hate me? How long do you think you’re going to be able to keep that up?”

“You talk like it’s an act.” I push my shoulders back against the wall, making myself big, like I’m in the presence of a predator.

He lets out a low laugh. “We both know that’s exactly what this is—an act. One that you’ll put on in front of them out there, in front of anyone else, but one that I see right through. One that you can’t hold up when it’s just you and me.” I’m breathing rapidly now, and I don’t know why.

“One that I refuse to believe, considering the way you screamed my name when my face was buried between your thighs. Considering the way you’ve opened up to me more than Ithink you intended to.” I let out a shuddering breath and close my eyes, squeezing them shut against the sight of him.

“Exactly,” he says, like that's the exact reaction he was looking for. “Stop pretending, May.” His voice sounds far away, and when I open my eyes, he’s kneeling in front of me. “You’re bad at it.”

He reaches a hand up under the skirt of my dress, his fingers tickling the skin of my inner thighs. “If I was to pull these panties to the side, what would I find, hm? Would I feel how much you hate me? Or would I feel just how much you enjoyed being thrown over my shoulder just now?”

“Who says it’s just you? You know I’ve been in supply closets be—” I’m cut off as Rafael lifts me up from my waist, my skirt bunching as he pulls my legs over his shoulders, his body weight pinning me to the wall.

“You’re a brat.”

“You love it.”

He yanks my panties to the side. “You’re lucky I love it.” And then he buries his face in my pussy. He flattens his tongue against me, pulling it from my entrance all the way up before flicking it over my clit.

“Oh god,” I moan as I thread my fingers through his hair, giving me leverage to grind against his face.

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