Page 39 of Rafferty's Rules
‘Look, let’s just say I’ve been in this position before, and it never ends well.’
‘Bullshit,’ I retort with my second curse of the day. ‘I personally guarantee this will work well because, in two weeks’ time, I’ll be getting on a plane. It can be a clean break, or we can part as friends. Just as long as I have at least a dozen orgasms under my belt.’
‘Mine or yours?’ he asks, seemingly mentally kicking himself for playing along. If his expression is anything to go by, that is.
‘Come on, Rafferty. You want your family to believe we’re dating? Then what could be more authentic than two people who are comfortable spending a little time together naked? Two people used to holding hands, to kissing and touching. Two people who obviously enjoy having sex?’
Which brings me directly to the point I haven’t yet told him. The point I’mnotdivulging now. The point I think I’m ready for him to fix.
I’ve just got to get him over this first hurdle before I tackle the next.
‘I don’t want to hurt you, Lissa.’ He places his glass in the sink, his back to me again.
‘My ex-fiancé screwed a prostitute. It was left to me to tell everyone there wouldn’t be a wedding.’
‘The fuck?’ He swings around, his blue eyes flashing furiously. ‘What kind of a family would—’
‘Because no one agreed with what I thought. No one would listen to me.’All they could say was calm down, you’ll make yourself sick.‘Then, I came on my honeymoon alone, and apparently thought it would be a good idea to sleep with a male escort. Do you really think I’m looking to be hurt anymore?’
‘No one goes looking for pain, but that doesn’t mean they won’t find it anyway.’
‘I can’t tell whether you’re deluded or whether you just have a really high opinion of yourself. I. Am. On. Vacation. I want to havefun. Filthy, naked fun. And I’d prefer to have it with you. Or I’ll have to start looking for someone else.’
Oh, hedoes notlike the idea of that. I wonder how much he won’t like this.
‘Be my rebound. Be my torrid holiday romance.’
With that, I loosen my hand, the duvet pooling at my feet.
Come on, Rafferty. Come and try to angry fuck some sense into me...
Chapter 11
RAFFERTY
Jesus Christ on a bike. This woman. This woman will be the death of me.
Why couldn’t she have stuck to yelling? I could cope with that—understand it even. I know it sounds nuts, asking her to be my fake girlfriend for the wedding, but it was with the best of intentions. A way of me helping her out while also sort of setting up an exclusion zone around myself.Hands off, ladies, Rafferty’s taken. Not that I think I’m irresistible or anything, but after the last time I was home and fucked up, I don’t ever want to put myself in that position again.
You laughed at her, you fucker. Made it sound like you’ve got tickets on yourself.
But a fake relationship is one thing; a fake relationship with benefits seems like a massive complication. A great huge blurred fucking line.
I said I wasn’t setting myself up for more screw-ups. Never again.
Look but don’t touch until it means something.
And right now, I’m looking. I’m looking so hard I think my retinas might implode from wanting.
‘Don’t you want to have filthy, naked fun?’
Why should that sound so tempting when delivered in that matter-of-fact tone? Where the fuck has the girl’s quick blush gone? This creature in front on me, the one who inadvertently brushes the hair from her shoulder, the brush of her hands making her nipple stiffen. Where the hell did she come from?
‘Oh, dear. I seem to have shocked you mute.’
Nowthatwas not a factual tone. It was more like an enticement. Confirming her taunt, I don’t reply, and fuck knows I try to keep my expression impassive, despite discovering what it must feel like to be a volcano internally.
I would run if I had legs. What are legs again?
