Boost by Vi Summers

 

Chapter 28

-Raf-

 

 

I arched over her, one hand braced near her head and the other on the back of the couch as I caught my breath. Holy shit, sex with Greer was even more fan-fucking-tastic than I imagined it would be; it blew my goddamn mind.

With my dick still buried deep, I blinked a couple of times and gazed down at her.

Utter perfection. From the blush tinting her high cheekbones to the messy ‘just fucked’ hair and sated smile on her swollen lips, I could hand-on-heart say that I was looking at her through rose-colored glasses and didn’t want it any other way.

Greer batted her eyelashes and her smile pulled wider. “That was good.”

“Good? I rocked your world, baby.”

Lowering to an elbow beside her head, I smoothed her hair back from her face with my free hand. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh, you’re lying. Come faces are never beautiful.”

I sniggered against her mouth. “Yours is. If George Washington could make it onto the one-dollar bill, you’d definitely make the five.”

Greer tilted her head back and let out an electrifying laugh that sang to my tarnished soul. Light and goodness seemed to radiate from her whenever she laughed like this, and the sound had become another of my addictions.

She let out a satisfied sigh and pulled me back in for a series of sweeter kisses. I eased more of my weight onto her and caged her with my arms.

“Sex like that makes a woman very satisfied.”

“Sex like that makes a man want to go exclusive.” The words fell out before I consciously thought them.

I tilted my head to find Greer’s intrusive gaze stripping more layers from around my heart. “Do you want to be exclusive, or was that just smack-talk?”

I froze despite feeling myself slipping from within her, and Greer didn’t move a single muscle. Apparently, she was willing to hold my deflating cock to ransom until receiving an answer I couldn’t dodge.

“Do you?” I asked. Deflected.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, giving me the same look I’d used on her countless times to date.

“How do you feel about me fucking someone else?”

“The fuck!” I reared back and fumbled as the forgotten condom slipped.

Dividing my attention between tying it off and glaring at her, I hissed, “Your pussy is off-limits to all motherfuckers since the day I fingered you in my Porsche. Shit!”

I vibrated with agitation as my control of the situation quickly disappeared and spiraled into unknown territory.

I hadn’t realized she meant so much to me, and it took being confronted while in a compromising position to wake me up to the fact that, yes, this girl was fucking mine.

Climbing from the couch ass-buck-naked, I binned the condom and took a few minutes in the bathroom to pull myself together. I returned to find Greer sitting on the couch with her skirt back in place and her eyes fixed on me. She watched my every move as I pulled on my boxer-briefs and jeans.

“You really are fully covered,” she mused aloud, while the weight of our unfinished conversation hung in the air like lead.

I focused on doing up my jeans’ button. “Ink from neck to cock, mamacita. You like them?”

Her eyes worked over my exposed torso again, taking in my tattoos in a way that started to rekindle my sexual appetite.

“I do.”

Smiling and throwing my arms wide, I performed a slow spin so she could see me in all my glory.

I got my first tat at seventeen. From there, it quickly escalated into an addiction that I didn’t want to tamper. The ink hid my scars—both on my skin and ones I locked deep—and they were a huge part of who I was today.

“And I like that you’re unmarked,” I replied, sliding onto the couch without bothering to put on my t-shirt.

“You do?”

I looked her over, drinking in her smooth, honeyed skin with a scattering of freckles along her collarbones and chest as if she’d been sprinkled with grains of brown sugar. I ran my fingertips along the trail and smiled softly at the subtle change to her breathing.

“I do. And I like the way you react to my barest of touches.”

Dipping low into her cleavage to prove my point, I then smoothed my way to the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to mine. Now that I’d had a taste of her, I couldn’t get enough; I feared I never would.

“Raf?”

My gaze found hers. They held determination I couldn’t look away from. Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine, just as mine endlessly searched hers. Both probing, both seeking answers. Both confused by what we felt and trying to figure that shit out.

“I need it to be black and white. No gray areas. I need to know exactly where we stand and exactly how you feel about me, so I’m not left guessing from one day to the next.”

“We’re exclusive,” I murmured against her lips. No one else was getting a taste of her—not while I was still this side of the grave.

She let out a shaky exhale. “You really mean that?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not the kind of guy to say shit I don’t mean. A good friend once told me that one day I’d fall under the spell of a voodoo pussy. You can imagine what I said to that.” I snorted. “Never thought I’d see the day when a woman wanting more wouldn’t send me running for the hills, or kicking her out. But fuck me, here we are and I want it. I want more with you, and I don’t really know what else to say.”

Smoothing a thumb across her plump bottom lip, my heart softened infinitely more when an affectionate smile broke out. It illuminated her entire expression.

“I really like you, Raf.”

“I really like you, too, Greer.”

“In saying that, we still need to set professional boundaries.”

Fuck, back to that again. Stealing one last kiss before reclining onto the couch again, I set my hand on her thigh and rolled my head her way.

“No kissing or fucking at the office. Got it.”

She relaxed against the cushions and set her bare foot on my shin.

“Well, no, but further to that, I’m actually thinking of giving Christian the Foundation account so it’s not a personal conflict of interest.”

I would have been offended if I didn’t see her reasoning. My fingertips idly massaged her exposed thigh as we talked. “That’s a conversation you need to have with Colt, not me.”

“He’s aware of the… situation.”

I scoffed. Damn right he was ‘aware’ of it; he was the one who messed me up with all that voodoo pussy bullshit. Now who was the fool? That would be me.

“Baby girl, when I go after what I truly want, I don’t jerk around. When I say that I want you to be part of my life—to be my only—I mean it.”

“And all the other women before me?”

“Time fillers,” I retorted gruffly. “Just like the men in your past.”

I recognized historic ghosts when I saw them, and as shadows passed behind her brown irises, she visibly closed off from me. A sense of loss came the moment her foot left my shin, and my heart panged to know that I’d touched on something she kept hidden.

“Greer? Is there something I need to know?” I asked carefully.

She shook her head, clearing away whatever had temporarily consumed her. “Story for another day.”

My grip on her leg unintentionally tightened, then eased when she lay a hand atop of mine.

“I promise I’ll tell you, just not today.”

I conceded with a subtle nod, then changed gears to propel us out of the baggage zone.

“Do you know how to cook? Because my maid is off sick tonight, so I really just invited you around to feed me and clean up afterward.”

The laughter that sang to my soul broke free again and washed away our heavy conversation. Greer playfully slapped my hand away and lunged at me, pushing me sideways and slamming me onto the couch with her body.

“I can only date a guy who knows how to cook, because I work late and need someone who knows how to keep house.”

I hummed suggestively and squeezed both globes of her ass. “Oh, I know what you need, mamacita, and one way or another I’ll be giving it to you. Seriously though, do you cook?”

Again with her all-consuming laughter. “I’m actually being serious; I really can’t cook.”

“What! Bullshit!”

Her lips pursed. “Not bullshit. While I kill it at work, I’ve never mastered the art of cookery.”

I grunted while rolling us both to our feet. After stealing a series of quick kisses, I grabbed her hand and tugged her into my kitchen.

“Tonight, baby girl, I’ll teach you how to cook my mamá’s go-to dish. Then later, you stay with me.”

Greer hedged. “I don’t have my stuff, though.”

“So?” I shrugged. “You can share my toothbrush if you need to.”

It was a tease because I had spares, but the look of pure disgust on her face was completely worth it.

“Ergh, gross!” She waved her hands in criss-cross motions in front of her. “I’m not down for sharing a toothbrush.”

I smirked and dropped my voice so it dripped with all the dirty promises yet to come. “Baby, what we’ll be doing tonight, sharing a toothbrush is going to be a ten-star sanitary rating.”

The renewed blush on her cheeks created a fresh wave of hunger I struggled to ignore; much like how I couldn’t ignore how goddamn perfect she looked in my kitchen, sitting on the counter while I showed her how to create a dish my mamá taught me as a kid. Laughing and talking with me while sipping wine, claiming little parts of my heart as her own without me being able to do a damn thing to stop her.