Unwinnable Page 6

  “Did Rafe leave you alone?” A gorgeous girl slunk out of the crowd and offered me a delicate smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “He can be quite rude, can’t he?”

  I smiled back, but I wasn’t sure how to answer that. He wasn’t exactly nice, that was for sure. But I knew one very particular version of Rafe. I was sure that, just like I wasn’t dirt-streaked, foul-mouthed, keeping-up-with-the-boys Maddie at the moment, Rafe had more to his personality than the perfectly-shined-shoes-and-angry-eyebrows Rafe I was so very familiar with.

  Even though, Cain help me, I loved angry Rafe. He could scold me all he wanted, and I’d still fantasize about climbing him like a sex-starved spider monkey.

  “You must be Maddie,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Emmelie.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said.

  She leaned toward me conspiratorially to tell me, “Rafe and I have known each other since we were children. Our mothers have been plotting to marry us to each other since we were in kindergarten.”

  “Oh really?” I said lightly. Maybe she would pee on Rafe’s leg later to mark her territory even more. “They must be disappointed now.”

  She shrugged. “Well, after everything that happened, my daddy would never approve of me marrying Rafe.”

  “Oh, those daddies can be so tough,” I murmured sympathetically, searching past her for Rafe or really, for anyone else who might be able to save me. This girl was too much.

  “You know the story?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  I dragged my gaze back to her beautiful, bitchy face.

  “Let me guess,” I said, “You and Rafe dated, and it ended badly?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said with a lilting laugh. It was a very charming laugh for such an annoying person. “But that’s not the part that’s important. Did you know that before he returned to the straight-and-narrow, he was involved in witchcraft?”

  She whispered the word witchcaft as if it were shameful, like incest or instant coffee.

  Did this girl really miss out on the news for the last three months?

  “No,” I said, trying to sound scandalized.

  “Do you want to see his bedroom?” she murmured, glancing around the room and giving me a mischievous smile. “His room is still the way he left it when he moved out so ignominiously in the middle of high school.”

  I was about to say no, but then her eyes filled with sadness as she said, “I know, because I used to sneak in there after he left.”

  It was quite a picture, this prim-and-proper girl sneaking into her ex-boyfriend’s room to say goodbye to him, and sympathy washed over me.

  “You really loved him,” I said.

  “Really do,” she said lightly, grabbing my wrist and towing me with her toward the stairs.

  “Really do?” I asked, going with her because I wanted an answer.

  She cast a furtive glance around the now-empty foyer, and then the two of us went up the stairs, our high heels clacking on the hardwood. Once she knew I was really following, she released my wrist abruptly, as if she hated touching me.

  “You still love Rafe?” I demanded as we reached the top of the stairs. “I thought you just said your dad would never let you two get married. Would you ever leave your family and…?”

  She turned her beautiful face over her shoulder to shoot me a dark look. “No, of course not.”

  Silly me, thinking a girl might just opt to live her own life.

  “Family is everything,” she added.

  “Sometimes you start a new family,” I said, feeling an ache in my chest at the thought. It was both a good thing and a bad thing. I’d barely spent any time with Piper and her men and the babies lately. Now I wasn’t even sure when I’d make it back to Blissford for a visit, or for how long. It all depended on how my mission with my men went.

  I wanted everything to stay the same, and the more I wished, the faster the sand seemed to slip under my feet.

  “But I miss him,” she admitted.

  My heels sunk into the thick, elaborately-worked rug that ran down the hallway as I followed her, and she pushed open the door to Rafe’s room.

  It was a big bedroom, with a window seat that overlooked the garden and the river in the distance, decorated in navy. There was a burlap-wrapped ship’s wheel mounted on the wall, and a bookcase that I made a beeline for. I was curious what kinds of books Rafe used to read. As promised, mixed in with the board games in the bookcase was a wooden box housing Dungeons and Dragons.

  She sat down on the window seat, kicking her heels off and drawing her feet up onto the blue-and-white striped pillow. “Rafe and I had sex for the very first time on that bed. We gave each other our virginity.”

  “Why would you tell me that?” I asked, my voice even, as my fingers walked over the titles of his books. Young Rafe had read a lot of fantasy novels.

  I was not even the littlest bit tempted to look at the bed, which was crisply made up with a lot of throw pillows and a navy quilt. I couldn’t picture Rafe sleeping on a bed with that many pillows. I couldn’t imagine Rafe choosing to mount a ship’s wheel on his wall. This room didn’t feel like it belonged to him.

  “He broke up with me, and I’m still not sure if it was before he met that witch or after,” she said, leaning against the glass.

  I idly imagined what would happen if the glass cracked and she tumbled down the slope of the roof and landed in the bushes. She wouldn’t be badly hurt.

  “That must have been hard when you were still in love with him.”

  “I think the witch put a spell on him,” she said, because clearly that was the only way anyone could leave her enchanting ass. “But it doesn’t matter. She’s dead now.”

  The witch who had introduced Rafe to magic was dead? Afraid I already knew the answer, I asked, “What did she die from?”

  “Our pack found her after what happened to Rafe’s brother,” she said. “I’m not sure Rafe even knows. He’d run away by then.”

  “Did she murder Rafe’s brother?” I demanded. I hadn’t known that.

  “Didn’t she?” she asked lightly. “Even if she just introduced the two of them to magic, she’s the reason that he’s dead and Rafe is disgraced.”

  Oh, hell no. The thought of Rafe as disgraced when we all looked up to him at the academy made me furious. I pointed out, “Rafe is a member of the Council’s Own.”

  “Still. You know how the packs are.”

  “Some of them,” I said guardedly, because my sister’s packs weren’t like that.

  Her eyes narrowed, despite her smile, before she said, “You and Rafe are lucky you have each other. No one else wants either of you.”

  Anger burned through my chest, red-hot and fierce. It was annoying enough to know some people laughed at my desire to join the Council’s Own and protect the packs. But the thought that they looked down on Rafe left me furious.

  But I’d learned a whole lot about controlling my temper over the last year—or at least, I’d learned to control who saw my anger and when.

  My voice came out cool when I said, “Rafe is pretty lucky, and he knows it.”

  Her eyes narrowed again at my implication, but I smiled back at her, sweet as pie.

  “We’re lucky to have each other,” I added.

  She might have been his first. But I would be his forever.

  She shrugged, changing the subject, but I could see the words prickled on her skin.

  “His mom kept both his room and Michael’s preserved like little museums of their childhoods,” she said, running her palm absently over the cushion. “It’s not creepy at all, is it?”

  Guilt tightened my chest. That was when I realized I’d made a mistake. I shouldn’t be up here, prying into Rafe’s youth and his tragedy and his grief. He would tell me more of his story when he was ready.

  “We should go,” I said. “If Rafe finds us—”

  “He’ll be quite irritated?” A low, masculine voice demanded from the doorway.r />
  My heart had sunk when I realized I shouldn’t have given into my curiosity to begin with, but now it sunk lower as I turned to face Rafe in the doorway.

  Chapter Eight

  “Well, I guess I should be going,” Emmelie said, scooping to pick her heels up before she padded barefoot across the bedroom and disappeared into the hallway. She turned back to flash me a smile as she closed the bedroom door between us. So very helpful.

  Rafe shoved his hands into his pockets, the motion pushing the hem of his jacket up. The movement hunched his broad shoulders, which were already tense.

  “So you and Emmelie were having a heart-to-heart,” he began.

  “She had a lot to say.”

  “I’m sure she did.” His tone was that cool, neutral Rafe tone that could be so dangerous.

  “She told me that you two used to have sex in that bed,” I said. “Which was definitely not information that I asked for.”

  “She probably assumed that once you followed her into my bedroom, although the two of you were uninvited, all the normal boundaries were off,” he said, and I felt my cheeks color.

  I tucked my hair absently behind my ear. Apologizing didn’t come easily to me—especially not with Rafe. The way he radiated cool fury made me react with the same anger, only mine always burned hotter. I could already feel that heat unfurling in my chest.

  Could he really hold my curiosity against me, when we were fated mates and yet, he kept so many secrets from me?

  But really, I knew I’d done the wrong thing when I followed Emmelie up here. I’d known that girl was trouble. The sick, giddy feeling in my body should’ve warned me off, if nothing else.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

  His brows arched over those dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything.

  I shrugged as the two of us faced each other. “I shouldn’t have entertained her nonsense. I want to know everything about you, Rafe, but I want to hear it from you.”

  “I don’t think Emmelie is a very reliable witness,” he said dryly. Then he added, “I’d hate for you to think less of me because she whispered her poisoned words into your ear.”

  There was something so honest in that confession.

  “Rafe,” I whispered, “I happen to have my own unshakeable opinion of you. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says. I know you.”

  He studied my face with those dark, dangerous eyes for a few long seconds, and I didn’t know what to expect.

  Then suddenly, he crossed the distance between us. His fingers slid through my hair as he cupped the back of my head, and my heart hammered as his lips covered mine.

  Rafe’s mouth was full of heat and passion, no matter how cool he was. He kissed me like he was claiming me. My body swayed against his, my palms stroking up the hard plane of his shoulders.

  His kiss was punishing, hard, demanding, and he stole my breath away. His tongue teased against the top of my lip, then as my lips parted, thrust inside. I looped my fingers over the back of his muscled neck, holding him to me, my hips pressing against his. The hard swell of his cock through his suit pants pressed against my lower abs.

  He broke away first, but his arm pressed against my back, holding my body against his. He looked at me with searching eyes. Both of us were breathless, our chests heaving as we faced each other.

  “I’d thought there would be more chastisement involved,” I said, my voice coming out husky and unfamiliar.

  “In my mother’s house?” he asked, his lips curving up teasingly. “You’ll have to wait for any chastisement you may have earned yourself, Maddie.”

  The word seemed to amuse him, even though it made me feel like my panties might melt right off under my skirt.

  Then he added, “We’ve got a lifetime for me to tame your brattier side, after all.”

  “Big talk,” I said, stroking my hands over his chest, loving the way his body felt against mine. Lightly, I asked, “Can you be sure that you’ll want me forever when I am…”

  I trailed off. Some things were too hard to put into words.

  I tried to do the right thing; somehow, the big things were easier. I’d always put my life on the line for the packs. But when it came to relationships, I made plenty of missteps. I’d just made a selfish, stupid mistake just this afternoon, and I felt myself flush as if my skin were revealing the uncertainties I couldn’t give voice to.

  What if Rafe and I finally came together, but over time, he realized I was too flawed?

  He frowned, his brow creasing between those gorgeous lush-lashed eyes, and then his face relaxed as if understanding had dawned.

  “Oh, Maddie,” his lips tilted up, “first of all, both of us are far from perfect. We’re going to make mistakes. Both of us. I’m not going anywhere if you aren’t.”

  I shook my head, biting my lip, feeling warmth unfurl in my chest at his words.

  “But second of all,” he said softly, pressing forward, walking me backward. My shoulder blades pressed against the wall, and his fingers caught my chin, tilting my face up to his. Those smoldering dark eyes met mine.

  “I’m never going to shy away from loving you because of any mistake you make. You’re worth more than that.” His voice dropped lower when he murmured, “I will always be here, Maddie.”

  I might’ve kissed him then, but he leaned toward me, pinning me against the wall with the heat of his chiseled body.

  His lips nuzzled my ear as he breathed, “And of course when you really exasperate me, I have my ways of dealing with you. But I enjoy that too.”

  I started to smile, but his lips met mine again, and I lost myself in his kiss. His hands swept up my hips, then my sides, and even through the cotton of my demure sundress, his touch raised fire everywhere he touched.

  His hands glided under my arms, raising them above my head, and he gathered my wrists in one hand to hold them above my head.

  I glanced up at him mischievously as he held me pinned against the wall.

  “I thought we weren’t going to do anything in your mother’s house,” I murmured.

  He paused, his body a breath away from mine.

  God damn me and my mouth. Had I really just given him a reason to wait even longer?

  He cupped his hand lightly on my face, his thumb stroking over my cheek. The smile that came over his face was like the sun coming out after the rain.

  “I don’t think I can take one more minute apart from you, Maddie,” he confessed, “as much as I love to torment you.”

  “At least you admit it,” I breathed. I swayed toward him, but his hand still gripped my wrists above my head, and I couldn’t go anywhere.

  But he bent his head and kissed my lips, slowly this time, as if he were savoring me. My hips swayed toward his, but the man would not be hurried, and I surrendered. He kissed the quirk at the corner of my lips. When he drew my lower lip into his, teasing it, biting gently, a groan of desire escaped my lips.

  He pulled away, and I started to make a small sound of protest, but he just grinned. He released me suddenly, taking a step backward, and I caught my breath as if I’d forgotten to breathe when he kissed me.

  “I always hated all these damn pillows,” he said, tossing the throw pillows off the bed onto the floor. “But I always made the bed up the way she wanted. I tried so hard to be the good son—even though it turned out I was never capable.”

  There was a bitter edge in his voice.

  “You know, you never have to come back into this room again.” I pressed myself against him from behind, bobbing up onto my tiptoes to rest my chin on his shoulder, sliding my arms around his waist. “We can walk out of this house right now, and you never, ever have to come back.”

  I pressed my cheek against his back as my hands teased inside his blazer, feeling his hard abs through his crisp dress shirt. “Some of us like you just the way you are, Rafael Hunt. We wouldn’t make any alterations.”

  He twisted to give me a skeptical look, but he couldn’t resist catching me with h
is hands on my hips, drawing me against his body. “Really?”

  I nodded, widening my eyes innocently. “I mean, some of us have terrible taste—”

  He grinned, his hands tightening on my hips, and he all but tossed me onto the bed. I bounced on the bed, laughing.

  He climbed onto the bed, bracing his body over mine, his lips searing against mine. The smile dropped away—when Rafe kissed me, it was serious business. His lips demanded all my attention, leaving me breathless, but I still managed to push the blazer down his shoulders.

  He gripped the front of my dress, the intent in his eyes like he was going to tear it off my body.

  “Hold on there, Crazy,” I said, pressing my palm against his chest to hold him back even though really, I wanted him to shred these clothes from my body. “I’m not doing a walk-of-shame out of here wearing whatever’s in your drawers.”

  “That sounds fine to me, actually.” He pressed a kiss to the side of my throat. “I’d like to see you wearing nothing but one of my shirts.”

  “We’ve got time,” I promised, echoing what he’d said about a lifetime. I still couldn’t believe it. I glanced toward the closed door. “And maybe we should, you know…”

  His brows arched. “Now you’re worrying about getting caught? Where was that fear when the consequence of being caught was dealing with me?”

  “You were very scary,” I promised him, my voice full of laughter. I grabbed his shirt and yanked him down to me. “I just happen to like my men scary.”

  His lips lingered on mine as his hand stroked down my side. His fingers brushed over the fullness of my skirt, then pushed aside the crisp cotton and tulle. His fingers brushed across my bare thigh, and just that slight contact made me gasp. I’d wanted Rafe for so long.

  He took his time, still kissing me, his hand slowly caressing my thigh in a way that made me ache. I kissed him back as I reached urgently for his belt buckle, trying to undo his belt, which kept slipping through my fingers.