"Tell me, sweetheart," Rafe urged.

She swallowed hard as she whispered, "I don’t know if I can be quiet enough for them not to hear."

Rafe’s eyes dilated even further as he slid the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. "I’ll make sure no one hears."

Her body flooded with a rush of liquid heat at his promise, one she didn’t know how he could possibly keep. Of course, when he cupped her face in his hands and looked at her with a question in his eyes, she couldn’t do anything but nod.

He reached for the hem of her long-sleeved T-shirt, and as he quickly pulled it up and over her head, he told her, "The next time we do this, I promise I’ll go so slow that you’ll be begging me."

Didn’t he know she was already about to start begging, just from the way he’d stopped to gaze at her in her bra?

"Every time I see you, I think I’m going to be prepared for how beautiful you are." He slipped her bra straps off her shoulders. "But I never am. Not even close."

Her breath was already coming in sharp pants of need when he reached around to undo the clasp at her spine. Just like that, her br**sts were bare before him, her ni**les peaking beneath the heat of his hungry gaze.

"Brooke."

Her name had barely left his lips before he was cupping her br**sts in his large hands and bending down to take one sensitive peak into his mouth. She clutched at his head, her hands threading into his dark hair as he licked her nipple, then closed his teeth lightly over it. His right hand played with her left breast, stroking, caressing, teasing. And then his hand was taking over where his mouth had been, and his mouth was moving to cover her other breast.

"God, you’re sweet," he murmured as he lifted his head. "I need to taste more of you. Now. I need you now."

Just his mouth and hands on her br**sts had been the most sensual experience of her life. But with Rafe’s hands moving to the snap and zipper of her jeans before he dropped to his knees in front of her, as he had her step out of them, she thought she just might combust from nothing more than the heat of his dark gaze on her.

His thumbs slipped into the sides of her panties, and even though he’d apologized for needing to move fast tonight, the slow drag of lace against her skin nearly drove her mad. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until the tiny patch of fabric hit the floor. On a whoosh of air from her lungs, she started breathing again, but when Rafe leaned forward and she felt his warm breath between her thighs, she couldn’t get in enough oxygen.

Her legs were trembling like crazy, but he was holding her perfectly steady with one hand around her waist, the other caressing the side of her hip.

His dark eyes flicked up to her face. "Brooke?"

She’d never done this with any other man—stood naked before him while he knelt at her feet and asked if he could put his mouth on her. But with Rafe, there was no fear, no embarrassment, no worries. Only need...and a whispered, "Please."

But when Rafe leaned forward and slicked his tongue over her, she realized the ache she’d had earlier was nothing compared to the way he was making her feel now with the slow lash of his tongue, the sweet press of his fingers inside her. It was as if he knew her body better than she did herself—exactly where to stroke, precisely how to caress. Nothing existed but the two of them in this moment of perfect pleasure, and oh, how she wished she could stay in this moment just a little while longer to truly savor every delicious burst of sensation. But the way he was touching her—kissing her—felt too good...and she’d been waiting too long for him to have that kind of control.

Just as her inner muscles started to clench around him, she whispered "Rafe," in an urgent voice. Continuing the hard thrust of his fingers inside of her while his thumb stroked over her clitoris, he quickly stood up so that he could cover her mouth with his and swallow her cries of pleasure.

Brooke bucked against his hand as her climax took over every last cell. And though her body finally settled against his after the incredible orgasm, he kept kissing her as if he couldn’t get enough. He continued to stroke gently over her sensitive flesh when he finally lifted his mouth from hers.

"Better?"

She couldn’t yet find her voice to tell him how good he’d made her feel, but she could reach for him to curve her fingers over the thick erection throbbing behind his jeans.

"A little better," she whispered as he pushed his hips hard into her hand, and she reached for his zipper. The last thing she expected him to do next was slide his hand from between her legs and take a step away from her.

"You don’t know how badly I want you to keep doing that, but there’s no way you’ll be able to keep me quiet."

Brooke didn’t care anymore about keeping quiet. All she wanted to do was touch him the way he’d touched her, taste him the way he’d tasted her. She was halfway to her knees when they heard the front door creak open.

"It’s not fair," she protested when he pulled her to her feet.

"Since it was my stupid idea to wait twenty-four hours, I deserve the punishment of waiting for you to touch me, too."

Before she could tell him that was utter nonsense—and that she needed his pleasure just as much as he did—he was handing her her clothes. He gave her one last, hard kiss before he grabbed the stack of clean sheets.

And left her aching for him more than ever.

Chapter Thirteen

Rafe ripped out another strip of the nasty old linoleum with both hands. Up since five that morning, he’d already cleared the old flooring out of most of the house. He should have felt satisfaction at finally making some serious headway, but his gut churned whenever he thought about what he’d done to Brooke the night before.

He’d locked her in a closet, stripped off her clothes in record time, and had feasted on her...all with his siblings barely a hundred feet away. Not only had he known she was nervous about having Mia and Adam so close by, but their first time together should have been special. She was the kind of woman who deserved roses and candlelight, wooing and soft words. He’d vowed to keep control of his baser urges with her, but he hadn’t been able to hold to that for even five freaking seconds.

One taste of her mouth, one stroke of his hands over her naked skin, and he’d lost any hope of control.

And yet, Rafe had felt a connection with Brooke that he’d never felt with anyone else. Even in the cramped room, knowing they had to stay quiet and with no more than a handful of minutes together, every kiss she’d given him had rocked more than just his body. Every taste of her had only made him hungrier for more, for the chance to lay her down on a bed and take all the time in the world to learn her beauty, her scent, her sweetness, from head to toe.