Page 57 of Craved

“Show me,” I dared.

“So bad,” he mouthed against my lips, and slid his fingers between my legs, rubbing the seam of my jeans over my sex.

My breath hitched. I widened my legs.

He rubbed a leisurely circle over the seam, pressing just hard enough that tendrils of sensation teased my clit, heated my belly.

My mouth opened. I gazed at him, heavy-lidded.

His eyes were on my parted lips. “Gods, I want you.”

He lowered his head and kissed me. Soft at first, then harder. His tongue pressed into my mouth, slow and deep, as his fingers continued playing with me lower down.

When he removed his hand from between my legs, I whimpered.

“Shh.” He stroked the hand up my waist, caressed my breast. “We can’t. Not here.”

I sucked in my cheeks. “Damn you.”

I was wet and so ready I almost didn’t care we were surrounded by people. But having sex on a plane—in our seats or in the washroom—wasnotthe best way to stay under the radar.

“I can’t help myself when I’m around you.” His gaze was still on the nipple he’d teased to hardness.

“Yeah?” I must have sounded doubtful, because he met my eyes.

“Truth.”

I heaved a breath. “You really didn’t send those texts, did you?”

“No.” Just that one word, but this time, I believed him.

“I’m sorry. But I didn’t know you that well, and—”

I’d chosen to believe my mother, because I couldn’t believe a man like Rafe would want me for myself.

“Hey.” He cupped my cheek with a big palm. “It’s done.”

“I tried to come and see you last year—to apologize. I had a flight that connected in New York, and I left the airport and took a taxi into Manhattan. But Jean-Michel caught up with me and convinced me it was a bad idea.”

“Yeah?” Something flickered across his face. He shrugged. “I probably would’ve shown you the door.”

My heart sank. “That’s what I figured.”

“And then I would’ve caught you and dragged you back inside.”

“Really?” A smile began deep in my chest.

“Oh, yeah.” His lips were against mine now. “I’m not saying I would’ve been nice, but I would’ve fucked you, good and hard. Talk about an international incident. I would’ve tied you to the bed and not let you go for a month.”

The smile broke through, happiness mixing with arousal in a dizzying brew. “This isn’t helping, Rafe.”

It was his turn to heave a breath. He released me and sat back.

“Strategy,” he muttered. “You said you have a plan?”

“Okay.” I took a sip of wine and gathered my thoughts. “The first step is to go to Philippe’s mansion, see what I can find out. He has a lower level where he keeps prisoners. If he has your brother, that’s where he’d be.”

“At his lair?” Rafe looked skeptical.

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