Page 54 of Rafferty's Rules
‘What?’
‘It is what it says it is; Rafferty’s Rules. It’s a mission statement of sorts. The rest is for you to fill out how you see fit.’
‘Rules? For what?’
‘That’s detailed in the next two lines.’ Please don’t make me say the rest out loud. ‘Rafferty, we’re sleeping together already. We’re just one horny dream away from having full-blown sex.’ That’s my dream, for sure. ‘And when it happens, because it will, you’ll be so hard on yourself for no reason. Blame yourself when you won’t be the only one to blame.’
‘Have you had a sex dream about me?’
My heart begins to pitter-pat because I’ve got him—that’s blatant interest.
‘What if I have?’
‘For a dream, a lot of that touching seemed very real.’
His gaze is languid and lazy as it moves over me, and I just know he’s thinking the same things.Fingers and sucking, my hips desperately bucking.I wonder if his body vibrates with need?
‘I-I want it to happen again, for real this time. But I also don’t want you beating yourself up about it afterwards or feeling like you’ve coerced me from your lofty position of power.’ I quirk a brow, letting him know exactly what I think about his way of thinking. ‘I’ll come to the wedding,’ I say quickly, cutting him off as he opens his mouth to speak again. ‘But I would very much like it if you would put your penis inside me.’
Lord. Above. I cannot believe I just put it that way. Do I not have a sexy bone in my body? Why can’t I do sultry dirty talk?
‘I don’t think I’ve ever been propositioned so—’
‘Nicely,’ I suggest at the same time as he says,
‘Anatomically.’ But at least he has the good grace not to laugh.
‘We don’t need to be exclusive,’ I offer magnanimously, ignoring my heating cheeks.
‘What?’ His brows retract, his answer closer to a bark than a word, and he’s not looking so relaxed anymore.
‘Well, I just mean you. Obviously, I’m not going to be bringing anyone back to your house—’
I think that was a growl he just made. I wonder if that’s an Australian thing.
‘And, well, I overheard Roman say it’d been a couple of months since.. . since your last girlfriend.’
‘She wasn’t my girlfriend,’ he answers mulishly. Meanwhile, I feel a sense of relief he hasn’t agreed to this hogwash because no way I’m going to stay with a man who parades a string of girls in and out of his room, never mind lose my virginity to him. Not that I’m telling himanyof that. But he doesn’t seem like the philandering type. Besides, I’m playing it cool. I’m sophisticated. A woman of the world.
‘So she was the same as me, then?’
‘What? No!’ He rubs a hand through his hair, leaving it a hot mess, with a heavy emphasis on the hot. ‘It wasn’t . . . she wasn’t. Jesus Christ!’
‘All I meant,’ I add with an innocent expression, ‘was that she, like me, wasn’t your girlfriend.’ Rafferty harrumphs. ‘But I’m guessing she, unlike me, didn’t have to beg you for sex.’
‘You’re skating on thin ice here, Lis.’
‘Impossible. This is Australia. There’s no ice here. So, the exclusivity clause,’ I say, whipping the paper out of his hand. ‘Yea or nay?’
‘Write the fucker down,’ he says wearily, handing me the pen.
Parties agree to exclusivity
As I write the sentence, I mentally give a little fist bump.
‘What was it you said?’ His eyes meet mine, narrowed in question. ‘A woman’s heart is as fragile as a bloke’s ego?’
‘Not mine.’ I give a little pat over the muscle in question, which seems to inadvertently draw his eyes to my chest. ‘It does the job just fine.’ My voice is a little high because I like the way he’s looking at me.Like he can see under my clothes.
