“Mamacita…” Raf’s unusually roughed voice made me still. He drew in a large breath, which was chased by a throaty groan that sent ripples down my spine. “You smell fucking incredible.”
His cologne rose to consume my senses, giving me the languid feeling of melting at his feet. Fingers contacting with my hip made my breath shallow, and each breath fanning across my bare shoulder had my eyes drifting closed.
“I wonder if you taste as fuckable as you smell.”
The brazen words made heat pool at my core and my voice strained. “That is highly inappropriate, Rafael.”
I looked over my shoulder to see desire burning in his dark eyes. “Is that because I’m saying it in your office, or because it turns you on when I talk dirty?”
My eyes darted to where Roxiee talked on the phone at her desk, then back to Raf’s mouth. I forced a thick swallow as he rolled his tongue over his lower lip.
“You were there last night,” he murmured.
I turned and slowly pushed him to a safe distance away. “Where?”
Raf tried to restrain my wrist but let my hand slip through his as soon as I tugged.
“The meet. The cop ambush.”
I read uncertainty in the depth of his eyes, as if he was trying to assess just how much I knew before speaking again.
“I was.”
“But you got away?”
I nodded while the memories of last night spun like a hazy dream.
A relieved breath punched from his lungs. “I was fucking terrified you’d been locked up.”
He must have caught my surprise; the corner of my mouth twitched. “Yeah, I’m as baffled about that as you are, Boss Lady.”
“But you didn’t? Get away, I mean.” I studied him closely, trying to read him.
Raf’s eyes narrowed. “How much do you know?”
I perched on the corner of my desk, and while I was direct, I spoke softly. “Roxiee filled me in.”
He tipped his head back and looked down his straight nose. “And?”
“I’m prepared for damage control if it comes to that.” While I wasn’t thrilled about it, I at least felt I had a handle on things.
A pause pulsed between us. One filled with illicit temptations that created a shift around us. It was powerful and unexpected, and made me hyper-aware of Rafael’s close proximity.
As if feeling it, too, his breath came shorter, sharper, matching mine as if we fed off each other’s internal desires. Anticipation ached low in my abdomen, blinding me from everything in the world apart from Raf’s fingers touching down on my thigh.
He leaned in as his fingertips traced dizzying circles. “Let me kiss you, mamacita. I’ve been craving you for far too long and it’s fucking killing me.”
I warred internally, wanting to give in to the sweet, sweet ache that left me breathless, yet needing to resist for the sake of my professionalism.
“We can’t,” I whispered.
“We can, baby.”
A single kiss pressed to my shoulder was almost—almost—enough to make me crack. My eyelids fluttered closed as Raf’s tattooed fingers grazed up my arm, so tantalizingly slow it made me weighted with need. His other hand lowered to snake around my lower back, coaxing it to arch and thrust my chest higher for him.
I inhaled a shuddering breath while shaking my head. A feeble attempt to talk myself out of wanting this, of succumbing to what he made me feel, instead of following my usually risk-adverse mindset.
“Let me make you feel good, Greer. Even if it’s just once; once is all I ask for.”