Page 66 of Red Hot Roaster

He slipped his hand further down to plunge fingers into my readiness. His thumb rubbed my achiness there. I groaned when he pulled out…noooooo, don’t go.

“Hang on to me,” he grunted.

My hands flew to his biceps, barely getting a grip on those bulky muscles before Rafe lifted and held me against the slippery wall. He nudged my legs apart and notched at my entrance.

When he paused again, half-lidded eyes staring at where we were joined, my patience ran out. I wrapped my legs around him and started to grind down.

“Now, Rafe,” I insisted.

One thrust, and he sheathed himself completely. He hit that deep spot that put those hot pulses into overdrive—and stayed still as I tried to catch my breath. I needed all of that short span of time to get used to his sheer size.

We fell into a frantic rhythm, in and out, in and out, until I shattered. I throbbed around him, and he followed a moment later. Moaning together, sharing the scorching rush.

Yeah, it was tighter quarters than our shower back at the house, but we’d made it work.

Chapter 33

Rose

Iwas leaning over the end of the table to grab another stack of race bibs when Princess stuck her muzzle in my face and gave me a big smouch.

I dragged the back of my hand across my lips and kissed her head in return.

“You made it, baby girl!” She and I communed for a moment while I gave her some belly rubs.

Rafe stood grinning down at me. He was dressed for the chilly-yet-not-rainy weather in a tight T-shirt revealed by an open-necked Henley covered by an unbuttoned flannel shirt. I knew what was hidden under all those layers. I didn’t trust myself to know what was buried in his heart…I’d gotten that wrong before.

I grinned back though, because I was too chicken-shih tzu to ask himorto reveal what was hidden inmyheart. We were running out of time, and not just for the event.

The Turkey Dog Jog was due to start in a half hour, and I was staffing the registration table along with Lauren. We were checking in people who’d already submitted their forms and fees as well as collecting said forms and fees from last-minute newbies like Rafe.

“So Finn got to you, eh?” He’d been reluctant to join in the fun since he was busy roasting up a storm before he left next week. But I’d sicced my son on him—that boy is hard to resist.

I slapped a registration form on the table with one of Mica’s vet clinic pens. “That’ll be thirty bucks, please.”

Rafe pulled out his wallet and handed me three tens. Once he finished the form, I passed him a race bib and recorded the number and other info on my sheet.

“That goes on your chest,” I informed him, circling my finger over my front to demonstrate. “Not on your back or on Princess.”

He flicked a glance down at my long-sleeved Turkey Dog Jog T-shirt and back up again. His eyes heated, and so did my face.

Easy to read your mind. And that’s a big “nope.” No time to get all hot and bothered. I’ve got a dog jog to run.

“Want to know how this works, seeing how this is your first time?”

His lips quirked to one side, and he nodded as I stood.

I pointed to the starting line where a banner stretched overhead on two poles:19th Annual Johanssen’s Turkey Dog Jogin huge bold letters.

“At ten o’clock sharp, Erik will stand to the side and wave a Chocolate Lab dog bandanna above his head to signal the start. One year, he stood on a ladder in the middle—nearly got knocked over. Another year, we tried a whistle for the start—dog howling and baby crying ensued.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Rafe and Princess exchanged a look.

“Everyone takes off to walk or jog on the path outlined by orange cones. Luckily, Dogwood Park is pretty level. Some folks push their dogs or kids in strollers. We’ve even had participants in wheelchairs and mobility scooters. In fact, there’s Calvin now.”

I waved at one of our neighbors who was sitting nearby on his custom scooter and talking to Jen. His ancient peke snuggled on his lap, already fast asleep.

“How long is the course?”

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