He looks shocked. “Geez, okay.”
The minute he’s up the stairs, I rinse my mouth from the tap and spit into the sink. It’s very satisfying. And the water’s only tinged a little pink.
When I shut the faucet off though, I hear noise out on the porch.
My stomach knots. I wipe my hands on a towel and head to the front door. Just as I suspected, when I open the door, there’s Raphael in worn jeans, a t-shirt, and gloves, a load of rotten boards on his shoulder as he jogs down the stairs.
“You’re back,” I say, my voice as wooden as the boards he’s holding.
His back’s to me, but he looks over his shoulder as he rounds the corner, grinning. “Hey Sunshine.”
And just like that, I don’t want to tell him all the things I planned on telling him. I want him to look me in the eyes and tell me everything’s going to be alright. I want him to call me Sunshine as he flips me over in bed, kissing me everywhere like he did last night.
Telling me all the things he’s going to do to me.
I pinch my eyes shut to clear the image from my mind.
“Raph, you don’t have to do this,” I say over the railing.
“What are you talking about? I broke the damn swing. Even if I didn’t, I told you I’d take care of this.”
God, the absolutebalmof a man telling me he’ll take care of something…and then actually doing it. I can actually feel the weight coming off my shoulders.
He tosses the boards into the back of a giant truck. Mac’s truck, already filled with junk from the day’s work.
“It’s late,” I say.
Raph rubs sweat off his forehead with his shoulder as he jogs back up the stairs. “I have to work tomorrow. Don’t want to upset the boss.”
When he reaches the top though, he doesn’t go straight for the pile of junk that used to be my porch ceiling.
It happens so fast I don’t register what he’s doing until his gloved hands are on my hips, pulling me to him; his lips on my neck, his chest hard against mine. “I missed you,” he says in my ear.
Fireworks shoot through my body. “Raph!” I gasp, shocked. But also alarmed at the electric sensation of his breath on my skin. His teeth sink into my shoulder, just hard enough my stomach ripples in hot pleasure.
Mike, I try to say.The neighbors.Mrs. Brown came out in her bathrobe last night at the sound of the crash, a frying pan in her hand, armed and dangerous.
“Raph,” I breathe, my nipples so tight they could cut glass, my legs wobbly.
But as quickly as he came, he’s gone, striding to the pile as if he didn’t even stop.
I back up, leaning against the doorframe for support, my breathing shallow. I brush the hair from my face. I’m sweating, my nipples aching, stomach melting—hell, my whole physiology changed in the 0.03 seconds he held onto me.
Then I nearly fall through it as the door swings open behind me.
Mike’s there, stepping out of my way as I nearly fall.
Instead of catching me.
But I’m too freaked out to think about that. Did he see what just happened? He’d have a clear view through the living room window. Maybe.
“What’d I tell you?” Mike says, a slightly smarmy grin on his face as he peers over the railing at Raph tossing the boards in the truck with a loud clatter. “That’s what you’ve got help for.”
Relief courses through me. He didn’t see anything. But just as quick it turns to anger.
“Don’t be a dick, Mike.”
“It’s all good,” Raph says from down below. He bounds up the stairs, his energy and fitness level putting Mike to shame.