Surrender 01 - Surrender

Twenty-Seven

    “That’s four kings. Read ’em and weep!” Ari shouted as she did a victory wiggle on the bed and waved her arms.
    Rafe’s body instantly hardened as her breasts swayed and her face flushed. It had been a month since he’d felt her tight core gripping him while he was buried deep inside her. He was on edge and it seemed that even a small draft of air made him turn hard as a rock these days.
    “Oh, quit being a sore loser. You’re not concentrating at all today, and I’m way up in winnings,” Ari said with glee.
    The comment distracted him from his sexual frustration. When he’d demanded that be a prize when they played cards, she’d insisted on playing for nickels. The really funny part was that she got excited when she won a humongous jackpot of…two dollars! Even more comical was his own enthusiasm when he won. Somehow being in Ari's presence brought out the kid in him.
    Ari was messing with his head, and it frightened him most that he found joy in playing simple card games with her. Never had he taken an afternoon off of work to play poker. He had to put a stop to this, and the only way to do that was to get her out of the hospital and into his bed.
    “Are you going to brood all day about your loss or are you going to deal again?”
    “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue?”
    “Once or twice. Now, deal. I’m on a winning streak,” she commanded as she rubbed her hands together.
    Rafe found himself laughing as he shuffled the cards, not a fake humor-a-person laugh, but a real deep-from-the-gut one. Ari had a way of knocking him off his feet.
    When he looked up, she was staring at him in wonder, her eyes dilated as they moved down to gaze at his lips. Just when his body had started to behave, she had to look at him like that. His erection came back in full force and more painful than ever.
    “If you’re going to look at me with that come-hither expression, I’m going to forget that you’re injured and take you right now,” he warned, then began moving the table aside.
    Her mouth opened in a shocked gasp, but she didn’t tell him no . Rafe stood up, and shut the door and locked it. He’d be gentle, he assured himself as he reached for the button on his pants.
    “Knock, knock. Time to take your vital signs.”
    Rafe quickly unlocked the door again, but he nearly growled when the nurse walked in. He was on the verge of telling the woman to get the hell out, but he caught himself. And without turning back to look at Ari, he fled. His body was on fire and it looked as if he wasn’t going to find relief anytime soon. He knew the moment was over and Ari would be back on guard when he got back.
    A stiff drink, or ten, was about all that would help him until he got her in private. He left the hospital, having decided it best not to return that night.

    *****

    “You’re doing much better today. The doctor said that if your vitals remain stable, you can return home.”
    Ari glared at Rafe as he invited himself into her room. She’d been in the hospital for two weeks, and each day Rafe had been there. He’d been kind and considerate, and had played games with her, brought her amazing food, and generally treated her like royalty.
    His hands were constantly touching her, rubbing her feet, brushing her arm, pushing back strands of her hair. Her nerves were shot, and this news was some of the best she’d ever heard. She had to get away from him before she did something stupid like agreeing to work for him.
    “Good. I’m ready to go home. I can’t believe I still have a job after missing work for weeks, but I’m counting my blessings. I just want my life to return to normal.”
    “Of course you still have your job, Ari. Would your boss really fire the woman splashed all over the papers for assisting in taking down a killer?”
    Rafe sat on the edge of her bed and she automatically scooted away. Each time their bodies brushed, heat surged through her, and resisting him kept getting harder.
    “I didn’t assist you in taking down the shooter. I was shot and I passed out. The press just likes to put a good spin on things so it can sell more papers. Do you realize how many magazines have called wanting the latest scoop? When I tell them what really happened, they quickly grow bored and move on to the next story.”
    “Ah, that’s just because they don’t know you the way I do. If they were to take the time to delve into your head, they’d be down here panting