Half hour later and several phone calls and Rafe had managed to find a hotel close by that had a couple of rooms to spare. He types the address into his GPS and you follow like a lost little drunken puppy behind him since you had no idea where you were going.
Now that you were slowly sobering up though, the nerves were setting in over what you were doing. Getting a hotel for the night would probably look bad once people found out and - in a place as small as the one you lived - it was inevitable.
The workaholic sweet new girl roped into the charms of the bad boy playboy.
God, what a cliche.
Eventually the pair of you reach a large building, ornately designed and lit with a beautiful warm lighting. There was a doorman who greets you politely as you enter, not giving you a second glance despite how grotesque you must look from the humidity and warmth.
You bundle inside with your shopping bags and follow Rafe to the reception desk, where a girl with pale blonde hair and deep red lipstick greets you. She glances over your outfits but says nothing other than, "Welcome to the Hotel Bennett, do you have a reservation?"
"No, but we called a little while ago about one--"
"Ah, you must be Mr. Cameron." Her smile suddenly grows a little and you resist the urge to glare at her. Who could blame her, after all? Rafe was hot, single, and far too charming for his own good. After all, he'd had a lot of practice with women.
He turns the charm on now and you can only hope it's to ensure you can score a room.
"That I am, sweetheart. You said you had a few rooms?" He raises a brow at her and she starts typing away on her computer. Rafe looks at you and must notice the frown you didn't even know you were sporting because his hand dips to the curve of your waist to pull you a little closer. You resist the urge to step out of it, since he asks so nicely with his little, "C'mere."
Your chest felt hot. So did your cheeks.
The girls teeth sink into her lower lip in regret and she looks up at Rafe a little nervously, though it shifts as she notices his hand on you. "I'm sure this won't be a problem, sir... But we unfortunately only have one room available tonight." You sigh and she types a few more things on her computer. "It's a twin room. Two beds, but I'd be happy to have someone push them together and fit them with appropriate bedding?"
"No-" You say a little too quickly, causing both of them to whip around and look at you. You clear your throat to relieve some of the awkwardness. "I just mean... There's no need. The twin room will be fine, thank you."
On the inside though, you were at war with yourself. You wanted separate rooms so you could fully relax, freshen up and get some well earned sleep.
Staying in a hotel room with Rafe - alone for that matter - felt all kinds of dangerous. Even if you wouldn't be in the same bed.
She takes Rafe's card and you thank him for paying for it while she's organising the electric keycards. She hands him both in a little envelope with the hotels name and contact details on and tells him which floor it was on - the fourth.
You bundle yourself into the small elevator and the air becomes so incredibly tense that you could hardly breathe. Rafe was in one corner and you in the other and you could feel his intense gaze burning into you. You wonder what he was thinking right now. Probably that he was about to get lucky knowing him.
Well, you'd just have to prove him wrong.
You weren't ready for that; hell you hardly knew him and however nice a day it had been, you still weren't about to drop your underwear for him at the slightest sign of kindness.
No, if he wanted it, he would have to work harder than this for it.
God, did I just admit I'd let him work for it? You chide yourself internally, still not quite ready to admit just how attracted to Rafe you were. He guides you down the hall to your room, 429, and scans the card to open the door before stepping to the side so you could enter first.
It was luxurious and decadent, ornate detailing on the walls and beds that looked plush and comfortable. Your muscles and bones ached to jump straight into bed but you desperately needed a shower first. How Rafe had any attraction to you while you were coated in sweat and grumpy from how hot it was is a miracle in itself.
You set your bags on the bed closest to the window and make a real effort to show the awkwardness wasn't affecting you as much as it was. The room was quiet and what had felt like an excellent idea when you suggested it was now something you regretted.
But what would you rather? That he drove you home drunk?
Absolutely not.
He sets his bag down and looks you over, apparently noticing how timid you'd turned. "Do you--"
"I'm gonna go shower." You cut him off before he's done talking and then make a fool of yourself apologising and offering him the chance to speak again. He doesn't. He was smiling though. Stop that. You will him silently, looking to your hands. "I'll... Be back." You offer up a half-smile and head to the bathroom where fluffy white towels hang from the rack. You shut and lock the door and switch on the shower.
It heats up quickly as you're peeling free of your clothes and you catch a look at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were a scarlet red though not from the heat, and your eyes were all wide and buggy. You looked stressed and it annoyed you that a boy had gotten you so worked up.
Stupid Rafe with his stupid smile and stupid handsome face.
You comb out your hair with your fingers as best you can and slip into the inviting, soothing warmth of the shower. You wash quickly, just trying to rid yourself of the grime of the day, and then step out and wrap yourself in one of the luxurious towels on offer.
It made you feel a lot better to at least be clean, as if the shower had washed away all the sinful thoughts that had clouded your mind.
It could just be that you weren't with him anymore, but that was a moot point. If you told yourself otherwise then you'd eventually believe it. Right?
You towel dry your hair a little and wash your face to make sure it's clean of makeup. It's not until then that you realise the grave error you'd made in coming in for a shower so hastily. You didn't have any goddamn clothes to change into.
Horror forms on your features as you look at yourself, cursing internally at what a stupid mistake it was. Rafe would absolutely get the wrong idea if you went outside in nothing but a goddamn towel and you weren't about to allow that. You look to the huddled pile of dirty clothes on the floor and briefly wonder just how disgusting it would be to put them back on so you could retrieve something out of your shopping bags that would be appropriate to sleep in.
You couldn't remember even buying anything comfortable enough to sleep in, but being uncomfortable for the night was better than being naked. In a bed. Next to Rafe goddamn Cameron.
Your forehead falls against the door as you stand against it. To even get your things, you'd have to ask Rafe for help.
The lock twists open at the will of your fingers and you peek the door open slightly. "Umm.. Rafe?" Some shuffling and he appears in the crack of the door you were looking through. The shower had sobered you up entirely but the hooded nature of his lashes told you he was still a little tipsy. He leans his forearm against the frame of the door and flashes a lazy grin at you.
"Hey, beautiful. Need help washing your back?"
"Shut up." You snort, eyes rolling. "I just... I forgot my bags... I need some clothes to sleep in."
"I didn't see you buying any pajamas." He raises a pale brow, head cocking to one side. He was challenging you to admit you had none. Which you didn't. "You can use my shirt if you like?"
You'd definitely be flushed if you weren't already. The offer takes you back a little and you stammer infuriatingly over your words. "I-Uh -- No, I can't ask you to do that-- besides, I have nothing to wear under it."
He elicits an over-exaggerated sigh and disappears for a beat. You hear some rustling, some tearing of tags, and then he's back, dangling a pair of freshly bought briefs on the tip of his finger. "These were new. But I guess I can sacrifice a pair for a damsel in distress." There was that smirk again, all devilish and suggestive. You look at the briefs, frowning. They were pale grey and had "Calvin Klein" written in white repeatedly on the black band. Of course he wore Calvin's.
"I can't take those." You sigh, gnawing at your lower lip. Even though they were brand new and had yet to touch his junk, it still felt a little weird. "It'll be okay. I'll just sleep in here." You huff, only half joking, and he laughs again, just as he did earlier. It has the same affect, your heart kicking up in speed in response.
"Shut up and take them. I couldn't give a shit about a pair of briefs. Keep 'em." He rolls his eyes, all blue and glistening in the warm light of the bathroom. One hand stays on the band of your towel like it might slip and fall and expose you at any moment but the other reaches out for the briefs.
"Thank you." A mumble, though you really were grateful. You were sure somewhere in your bags there would be a shirt comfortable enough to wear with-- Oh. OH.
The moment his hand was free, he's stepping back to peel free of his white shirt. Tan flesh and toned abs are exposed to you and you'd be lying if you said you didn't eat up every delicious inch of it he offered you while his vision is obscured by his shirt. His biceps that were now on show were thick and his forearms had a few visible veins pulsing as he extends the shirt out to you.
Were you drooling? Probably.
Holy fucking shit. Rafe Cameron was more than attractive, he was downright sinful.
He must have caught you eye-fucking his torso because he had this satisfied look about him that you were dying to wipe off just to spite him. He knew he was hot. As he should. But boy, did you love bringing big-headed guys down a peg or two.
When you weren't entirely speechless over their simple presence.
Was it hot in here? You felt hot.
Clearing your throat, you take the shirt and sneak back into the comfort of the bathroom without so much as a single word uttered. The image flashes over your mind again and you rest back against the door, smiling to yourself as your heart raced in your chest.
Part of you briefly thought about how he'd just given you his dirty shirt from a day of activities, but it didn't smell or look dirty at all.
The scent wafting from it was what you'd been so enamored with all day. The expensive aftershave fills your nostrils and you regret to admit you took a deep inhale as the fabric slips over your head and falls over your body.
The briefs were a little loose, but would do the job you needed them for.
You check yourself out in the mirror first, feeling a little insecure about going out there in his clothes. Was it giving the wrong idea? Or was he really just being nice?
Only one way to find out.
When you step back into the bedroom from the comfort of your bathroom solace, Rafe is laid back against the headrest of the bed you'd chosen for yourself closer to the window. Your shopping bags had been set on the floor at the foot of the other bed and you frown at him.
He still hadn't found a replacement shirt and was sat in just his shorts.
"You stole my bed." You accuse, eyes narrowing playfully. His own rake over you noticeably, from head to toe, and his features light up in his approval of the sight.
"I did."
"Why?"
He lifts a hand, points at the air-conditioning unit above your bed. "Air's cooler over there." Oh. And here you were thinking he'd done it so he could have the cooler bed closer to the window.
"Thank you." You tell him honestly, even managing a smile in his direction that lights up his lovely face even more. He gets up and pads over to you, towering over your form with his height and proximity which forces you to look up to maintain eye contact.
You hold your breath on instinct, eyes widening. Was he about to kiss you?
His glance flicks to your lips and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. His warmth was radiating from him, seeping into your skin yet it only works to send a shiver through you. His fingertips rise to rest against your chin, tilting your head up slightly.
Were you going to let it happen? Was this happening?!
He leans closer.
Oh God, it's happening.
"You look good in my clothes." He tells you, "I'm gonna go take a shower." Wait what?! and then he's leaving you there so he can shower too. You hear the water flick on and then the sounds of it as it spills around his body. Don't think about him naked, don't think about him naked, don't think about him --- Aaaand, we're thinking about him naked.
Jesus Christ, you needed a cold shower. He's just a stupid hot boy. You'd dealt with this a million times, what the fuck was it about him that had you preening like a bitch in heat?
You organize your things and use the little hairdryer to dry your hair to distract yourself and by the time you're done, Rafe is back in the room. He had a towel slung over his shoulder and his shorts in his hands, sporting just a fresh pair of briefs that were similar to the ones you wore.
You wished he'd put on a shirt for your own sanity.
Sneaking glances when he was distracted helped soothe the heady desire you felt for him. The air-con was switched on now and the room was cast with a steady breeze. It did nothing at all for the fire in your belly that was drawing closer to him with every passing second though.
"Good shower?" You ask and then chide yourself for asking such a dumb question. Good shower!? Small talk is not your forte, shut the fuck up.
"Hot." He smirks and turns as he gets into bed.
You were sat at the side of yours but follow his lead and slip under the blankets of your own bed. The bed's weren't exactly far apart, a small side table separating the two, but it was enough distance for you to feel comfortable.
He settles in and sighs in contentment at the comfortable bed enveloping him. Your muscles were thankful of the respite too, more than glad to be resting at last.
It was definitely far nicer than an uncomfortable car ride home.
Resting your head on your hand, you watch as his lids flutter closed, taking the serene moment to study him quietly. He seemed so peaceful like this, on the brink of sleep, the soft light casting his sharp features so nicely.
Your glance falls to his lips and the memory of how close you'd been to kissing him earlier comes washing over you.
You wanted it. Wanted him.
Just a little - enough to let him kiss you if he wanted it at least and that was concerning - the effect he had on you was concerning.
Your teeth worry your lower lip as you imagine what it would feel like to have his mouth on you. All hot and greedy and lustful as he devoured you. What it would feel like elsewhere.
A sharp inhale over the thought only makes it worse, his eyes opening at the sound to find you already staring at him like some goddamn schoolgirl with a crush. You look away quickly but not quickly enough and in your peripheral you catch him smiling.
Not a teasing one, or a taunting one, but one that spoke volumes of understanding.
You risk looking back and the smile grows a little, his gaze softening. There was an electricity between you as you held eye contact, vibrant tendrils of it connecting from your body to his. Your fingers itch to touch him, to know what it would feel like to run them over his chest and up into his hair as he latched onto you with his mouth.
Curiosity killed the cat. You knew that.
But fuck that cat, it was your turn to be curious. You peel the blankets back off of you and stand, taking the single step necessary to make it to his bed. He shuffles back, making room and lifting the blankets without a word uttered.
He remains on his side and you slide in next to him, facing him. His body was warm from his shower, his gaze darkened. "Hi." He speaks softly.
"Stop talking." You whisper and close the distance between you, slanting your lips over his own to taste him at last.
To kiss him at last.