Read Reunited Online

Authors: Kate Hoffmann

Reunited (17 page)

When he was completely naked, she stared up at him. "Put your hands on your head," she said.

Rafe laughed. "What?"

"You heard me. Put your hands on your head. Those are the rules. If you touch me, it's over."

He grudgingly did as he was told, watching her all the time, his gaze wary. Keely pushed up on her knees then leaned into him, her mouth just inches from his arousal. When he pressed closer, she moved back, showing him another rule he'd have to follow. She was allowed to move. He wasn't.

This time, when she rocked forward, he remained still. God, he was beautiful, his narrow waist and broad chest, his muscled legs and slender hips, his thick shaft brushing the hair beneath his navel. Keely slowly drew her tongue from the base to the tip of his penis and he sucked in a sharp breath.

When she retraced her path, Rafe moaned, the sound slipping from his throat in a low rumble. His belly quivered as he held his breath, anticipating her next move. But Keely was determined to tease him into submission, to make him beg for release. She pressed her mouth to the hollow beneath his hip bone, his hard-on brushing her cheek, then traced a path to his belly and back again. And when she was certain he'd had enough, she took him into her mouth more deeply, in the ultimate caress.

She didn't linger there long. He was too close and she had so much more in store for him to let it end so quickly. Instead, she worked her way around his body, higher and higher, to the small of his back, to the soft dusting of hair on his chest, then to the nape of his neck, all the while letting her fingers brush along his arousal. He clutched his hands over his head, his eyes closed, breathing harsh, his erection unflagging.

Her bold behavior was shocking, even to herself. Keely had always felt a bit inhibited when it came to sex, but when she was with Rafe, she seemed to lose herself in the pursuit of pleasure. Nothing was out of bounds or beyond imagination, as long as it felt good. And she knew if they could spend a lifetime together, intimacy would always be an adventure.

But they didn't have a lifetime. They had this one night. One more ascent to ecstasy and that would be all.

When she came back around to face him, Rafe looked down into her eyes. "Can I touch you now?"

She shook her head and, while he watched, Keely slowly undressed in front of him. His gaze drifted over her body as she gradually revealed more and more. But he was mistaken if he thought her nakedness was an invitation to touch. Instead, her goal was to torment him further by doing to herself what his hands couldn't.

She'd always been taught it was a sin to touch herself in such a way, but there were no rules and no regrets when it came to this game they played. And the next time he remembered this night, she wanted him to grow hard with the thought of what she'd done to him. She imagined him lying in bed alone, pleasuring himself with images of her swimming in his mind.

Keely met his gaze and she went still. "You've had enough? Or do you want more?"

He cursed softly. "If you keep that up, I'm going to come without you ever touching me."

"I didn't think that was possible," she teased.

"I didn't think so either. But believe me, it is."

"Then I think you'd better lie down and relax."

Rafe sank down into the blankets and pillows he'd spread in front of the fireplace. Keely stepped over his hips then slowly lowered herself until she straddled him. He reached up to touch her, but she grabbed his hands and put them above his head. "You're doing so well," she whispered. "Don't break the rules now."

She rubbed herself up against him, his shaft nestled between her legs. He arched, the movement clearly more instinct than a deliberate attempt to break her rules. A shiver raced through her body in anticipation of the moment when he would slip inside her, when he would fill her to the hilt.

She leaned forward and braced her hands on either side of his head, then whispered into his ear. She told him everything she wanted to do to him in great detail. And when she was finished, she teased at his ear with her tongue. "Have you had enough?" she asked. "Do you give up now?"

"No," Rafe murmured.

As she rose, she hovered over him, offering him a view of her breasts, the claddagh grazing his chest. Then she slowly brushed her nipple over his lips, daring him, taunting him to take a taste. "What about now?" she asked.

"Maybe," Rafe replied in a low voice.

She shifted above him, allowing him to penetrate her just slightly, then drawing away.

"How about now?"

"Yes," Rafe said. "I give up. You win. Are you happy now?"

Keely smiled, a soft sigh slipping from her lips. She caught his shaft between her legs and slowly sank down, taking him all in, burying him deep within her warmth. "Yes," she said. She pressed her palms to his chest and tipped her head back, then slowly began to move. "Yes, I'm very happy."

Rafe reached up and twisted his fingers around the necklace, then gently tugged her closer, until her lips were just inches from his. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, his gaze clear. "I love you, Keely."

Her breath caught in her throat. She saw the truth of his words in his eyes and a wave of emotion washed over her. "And I love you, Rafe."

T
HE LAST
of the flames flickered out and the fire turned to glowing embers and cold ash. Curled in the curve of Rafe's body, Keely listened to the deep, even rhythm of his breathing. She was almost afraid to acknowledge the dawn that brightened the cabin windows. Today, she'd return to Boston. She'd finally confront her family and begin an entirely new phase of her life.

But, after last night, she wondered if she'd be ready to make the choice. They'd made love once, then paused long enough for dinner, before they made love again. They rang in the New Year somewhere between her second and third orgasm, then fell asleep in front of the fire, wrapped in each other's arms.

In truth, she couldn't bear to think of going back to Boston. She wanted to stay with Rafe in this cabin forever, shutting out reality. It was so easy to need him--and now to love him. She'd never wanted to fall in love. She'd done everything in her power to avoid it. But she could no more stop herself from loving Rafe than she could stop breathing. It came as naturally as the rise and fall of his chest against her back.

A rumble sounded outside and Keely watched as headlights gleamed through the windows and reflected on the rough log walls of the cabin. The plow. Now there would be nothing to keep them here. Rafe would wake and they'd be faced with the uneasy realization that it was over--that they would return to the real world and go their separate ways.

Keely had tried to think of a way to make it work. Even though her brothers knew Rafe had been the cause of Seamus's troubles, they'd never met him. And she wasn't obligated to tell them that she was sleeping with the enemy. She and Rafe could go on as they had, as lovers, sharing stolen nights now and then. And they'd make a pact never to speak of her family or their differences, putting all that aside.

But, sooner or later, they'd be forced to stop living in limbo. Seamus would either be found guilty or innocent of a crime. If he was guilty, Keely wasn't sure she could ever forgive Rafe for the part he played. And if he was found innocent, Rafe would always wonder if Seamus had somehow eluded justice. The truth, whatever it was, would always stand between them.

Keely slowly rolled over and faced him, taking in the tiny details of his face, his boyish vulnerability and masculine beauty. She smoothed a strand of hair from his forehead. "You'll be hard to forget, Rafe Kendrick," she murmured. She touched her lips to his and he stirred, then opened his eyes.

At first he looked at her as if he wasn't sure who she was. Then he smiled sleepily. "Is it morning?" he asked.

"Not yet."

"Then why are you awake?"

"Outhouse," Keely replied. "I'm just working up the courage to go out in the cold."

He nuzzled her neck. "First thing today I'm going to call a plumber and have a real bathroom installed. I promise."

"Go back to sleep," Keely murmured, kissing him again. "I'll be right back."

She crawled out from beneath the down comforter. The cold air hit her warm skin, sending a shiver coursing over her naked body. Her clothes were scattered over the floor and she quickly tugged them on, her teeth chattering as she moved. But even completely dressed, she was still freezing, her breath clouding in front of her face. Keely tiptoed over to the fire and tossed a pair of logs onto the embers. They sparked and sputtered and then flamed.

She glanced down at Rafe once more, then slowly backed away. It would be so easy to forget all she'd worked for and become a part of his life. But she was a Quinn and she needed to find out what that meant. She grabbed her coat from the hook and pulled it on, then slipped into the oversize boots. Wincing, she tiptoed into the kitchen and found the keys where Rafe had left them, in the cupboard.

This was the best way. She knew if they waited to say goodbye she'd lose her nerve. She'd make the easy choice. She'd choose Rafe, the man she loved, instead of the family she'd never known. And she'd never find the courage to stand up for who she really was. She was a Quinn. Everything she'd become since that moment in Ireland proved it. Keely McClain was gone and Keely Quinn had taken her place.

Clutching the car keys in her hand, she walked back into the living room. She stood behind the sofa for a long time, staring at Rafe, her gaze skimming his face and imagining his body naked beneath the comforter. There would never be another man like him and, for that, she was sad. But she couldn't regret what they'd shared. Their affair had shown her who she really was--a strong, passionate woman, a woman capable of love, a woman who took chances in life.

Keely drew a ragged breath, then turned for the door, willing herself to walk out without looking back. When she got outside, the sun was just coming up, the low rays glittering on fresh snow. The driveway was clear and Rafe's car had been cleaned off.

She walked toward it, each step more determined than the last. The car door was frozen shut and she tugged on the handle, tears welling up in her eyes. Maybe she wasn't supposed to leave. Maybe this was a sign. She gave it one more tug and it came open. Keely quickly crawled inside and slipped the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, but she clutched the steering wheel for a long moment before she put the car in gear.

As she steered up the driveway, she wondered why fate had thrown them together that night in front of the pub. If she believed in things like destiny and karma and kismet, then she was meant to meet Rafe. But maybe it hadn't been to love him. Maybe it was to show her how strong the bonds of family could be.

Whatever was going to happen in Boston, Keely was ready for it. She'd go back and tell her brothers what she knew. And then she'd introduce herself and get to know her family. And someday, when everything was back to normal, then maybe she would call Rafe...and they could have dinner...and talk.

But what the future might hold with Rafe would have to wait. Right now, there were things in her life more important than passion.

H
E HAD KNOWN
she was gone the moment he opened his eyes. The fire had crackled brightly beside him, but the cabin had been silent. He'd dressed, then used his cell phone to call for a car, finding a limo service that operated between Boston and the ski resorts at nearby Stowe.

All the way back home, Rafe had tried not to think about her, but memories of their night together filled his mind. He'd never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Keely. But it wasn't just about passion and release. He needed her in his life to give him balance and perspective. Keely had shown him what happiness was all about.

When he'd arrived at his apartment, his doorman had handed him the keys to his Mercedes, informing him that Keely had delivered his car safely to the parking garage just hours before. Rafe hadn't even bothered to go upstairs. Instead, he'd hopped in his car and driven directly to his office.

Rafe stared at the mess on his desk. He'd come to the office to get his mind off of Keely. But he'd picked up one project after another, then been distracted by lapses into fantasies. He had to admit, even his fantasies weren't as good as the reality of making love to Keely.

He cursed softly. "Focus, focus."

Digging through the papers, he picked up a prospectus for an office complex Kencor was planning in Portland, Maine. But as he stared at the columns of figures, he lost his concentration once again. Learning what had really happened to his father had consumed his thoughts before he met Keely. And now he wasn't even sure he cared anymore. His father was dead and nothing he found out was going to bring him back. But Keely was alive, she was part of the present, and he'd let her go.

"What the hell--oh. Hello. What are you doing here?" Rafe looked up from his report to find Sylvie standing at the door.

"Nice catch. That will be five dollars. Half a curse."

She shook her head. "It's New Year's Day. Shouldn't you be home watching football and thinking about how you're going to treat me better this year?"

"You know I don't celebrate the holidays."

"Then what were you doing up at the cabin with a woman on New Year's Eve?" Sylvie asked.

"Are we related? Because we should be, considering the amount of time you spend meddling in my life."

Sylvie walked into his office and flopped into one of Rafe's wing chairs. "I came to work because my children were driving me crazy and my husband is wallpapering the bathroom. If I didn't leave, I'd be forced to give him advice and then he'd get mad and we'd end up bickering for the rest of the day."

"So, is that what marriage is like?"

"Why, are you thinking of giving it a try?"

Rafe laughed. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. You've been acting a little weird lately. I thought maybe you'd met someone."

"Maybe I have."

A silence descended around them. Sylvie tapped her foot against his desk, always impatient. "Well," she finally said, "is that it?"

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