Page 45 of Red Hot Roaster

After all, Elvis was at his seductive best, belting out “Burning Love” in that deep, sultry voice.

Whatever the reason, when I looked at Rafe—arms gripping the doorframe overhead, triceps bulging, T-shirt stretched tight across his chest—and saw the way he was looking at me—eyes hooded over his cobalt stare, heavy brows furrowed in intensity—I questioned whether I was prepared for all the hotness that was him.

So…in for a count of five, out for a count of five, in for a count of five…

I almost stopped breathing when he rumbled, “I see you’ve been busy,” and smiled a gorgeous, full-watt smile.

Instead, I managed to huff out, “You like?”

“I like,” he returned and stalked over to stand in front of me.

Abruptly, Rafe reached behind his neck with his right hand and jerked his T-shirt over his head. He flung it toward the door, toed off his shoes and stepped even closer. Partly in defense and partly in awe, I sat up straight, uncrossed my legs, and found myself face-to-face with the man of my dreams. Literally, my dreams—at least recently.

However, “face-to-face” was not entirely accurate. More like face to…sculpted chest and ridged abs with a good view of the muscular vee disappearing down his low-riding, tight-fitting jeans. Yeah, that was more accurate.

I wanted to rub my hands all over his, well, everywhere, but I looked back up when Rafe said, “Here, let’s lose this.”

He tugged the hem of my T-shirt upward, his knuckles brushing my sides and lingering along my breasts. After a pause, he slid it off the rest of the way and tossed it over his shoulder. On the floor, in the dog bed, over the lampshade. I didn’t know and didn’t care—as long as it didn’t set the place on fire.

I’d closed my eyes at some point. When I opened them, Rafe was leaning over me, thick-lashed eyes glowing in the candlelight. Like they were lit from within. I was close to panting. His chest was flexing with his breaths.

“May I kiss you all over now?” Rafe asked.

I nodded and licked my lips. He glanced down and flashed that blue stare back up to my eyes.

He crowded closer between my legs and trailed his fingertips up my sides again and over the demi-cups of my bra to brush the swells of my breasts. His hands flattened for a moment, palms rubbing my stiff peaks. Suddenly, without any warning, he gripped my shoulders, bent his dark head, and swiped his tongue across first one nipple barely covered by lace and then the other.

I gasped at the same time a hot pulse burst from my breasts to my core.

Rafe pulled his head back and gave a hoarse hum of satisfaction. He slid his hands up my throat to cup my jaw as he leaned down again to lick and kiss between my breasts, that soft hollow between my collarbones and the side of my throat. Without stopping, Rafe wove his fingers through my hair, angled his head and took my mouth in a deep, hot kiss.

I, of course, obliged by tangling my tongue with his.

After a few beats, Rafe broke off our kiss. We stared into each other’s eyes, breathing roughly, for a count of ten or maybe a thousand. Moving his hands under my arms and shifting me further onto the bed, he pressed me gently down on my back. He stood and looked down at my feet, now dangling off the bed, still wearing the stilettos.

Rafe contemplated them, seemingly deep in thought, and said, “Oh, these heels are coming off too…and then going right back on. I’m gonna make you come while you’re wearing them.”

With that, he pulled my stilettos off, one in each hand, and dropped them at the foot of the bed. Next thing I knew, he was leaning over me again, this time to unbutton, unzip and yank off my jeans—all in one motion. Somehow leaving on my damp panties, now riding higher on my cheeks, exposing virtually everything to his view. So I got a little nervous. I closed my knees and started to scoot backward on the bed.

Rafe gripped my knees, pulled them apart and growled, “Stop.”

I froze and then flushed. He reached down, snagged my stilettos and gently replaced them on my feet.

Like I was a sexy Cinderella.

Rafe crawled up over my body and lowered himself on his elbows to bury his face in my neck. Inhaling deeply, he mutteredsomethingabout my sweet scent. I was trembling so hard, it affected my hearing. He took my mouth again for a luscious kiss before reaching to lift my left breast out of its lace cup. He thumbed my beaded nub twice and bent down to lick and suck it. He treated my right breast the same, so that both were wet and aching.

I arched my back as Rafe continued his journey downward, stopping to nuzzle my belly and circle his tongue in my belly button. When he reached the top lace edge of my cheeky panties, he sat back on his knees and placed a hot hand on each of my thighs. Spreading them wider, holding them firmly apart. He leaned in and planted wet kisses on the insides of my thighs…so close. He sat back again, unzipped his jeans and pulled out his hard length. No briefs—he’d gone commando.

By this time, I was rolling through shudders and gripping the sheets on either side of my body. An earthy mix of sea salt, musk, sweat and—I don’t know, lust?—filled the air.

Rafe stroked his lengthhardwhile staring at my core.

“Rose,” he let out, like it pained him.

“Right here, Rafe,” I managed to groan.

“Rose, unless you want me to destroy those pretty panties, push them to one side so I can get at you.”

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