He nodded, giving her a pained look. “Now I know.”
Her smile deepened. “Now you know.”
After that, maybe it was because she felt a little bit guilty about playing that dirty trick on him, she was extra nice to Rafe, showing him all the latest dance moves and not laughing when he stumbled and not saying a word even though it was painfully obvious that he would never make it to ‘Dancing with the Stars’. Rafe was just too stiff to ever be a good or even passable dancer but she didn’t let that worry her. They were on the dance floor having fun and that was all that mattered.
That night Anya and Rafe didn’t leave Nur Fur Freunde until way past midnight and by that time they were all discoed out.
As they walked back to his car, Rafe surprised her with his next comment. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. Thank you.”
That made her raise her eyebrows. “You’re sure you had fun? You’re not just saying that?” Then when he nodded she said, “And am I forgiven for abusing you?”
Rafe grimaced as if the memory was still painful then he shook his head. “That, my dear lady, will not go unpunished.”
Anya frowned even though she wasn’t the least bit perturbed by his threat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That’s for me to know,” he said softly, “and for you to find out.”
“Hmm,” was all she said in response. She was pretty confident that she could handle whatever he planned to dish out. She wasn’t an expert in Rafe-ology for nothing. And by now she could read him like a comic book. He wasn’t that hard to figure out. So, that established, it was a confident Anya who hopped into the car beside him and when they got to her house, as late as it was, she still had no qualms about inviting him in.
“Are you sure?” he asked, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. “Don’t you think you’d better head to bed after all that dancing? You must be tired.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re talking to a girl who’s used to partying till four in the morning. Now come on.” She jerked her head toward the house. “Let’s have a nightcap.”
Rafe looked doubtful and Anya had to admit she respected him for that. Most men would have jumped at the chance to enter her home in the middle of the night. After all, what better setting in which to seduce a maiden? She chuckled at the thought. Any man who wanted to seduce her had better have his A-game on. Anya Petersen could only be seduced if she wanted to be seduced and the man trying would soon find that out. It took a minute but the doubt on Rafe’s face eventually dissipated and he shrugged. “Well, okay,” he said. “If you insist.” And then he got out and came around to open her door.
Inside the house Anya didn’t have to give Rafe directions. He headed for the living room while she went off to the kitchen to get them some drinks, wine cooler for her and sparkling water for him. When she got back he’d made himself comfortable on the floor, his back against the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“What are you doing down there?” She placed the drinks on the table, straightened up and dropped her hands casually on her hips. “Or didn’t you notice the sofa behind you?”
"Don’t be fresh, little girl,” he gave her a crooked smile, “or else I’ll have to spank you.”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she cocked her head to one side and regarded him. He really was cute, especially now, with the collar of his shirt slightly askew from all that dancing, his hair which was beginning to grow long again now curling at the collar of said shirt. A spanking from a guy who looked this good? She could live with that.
But that would have to wait just a minute longer. First, there was that little thing about quenching their thirst after a long night of dancing. She knelt down on the floor, right between his legs, and reached for the bottles on the coffee table.
By this time Rafe’s brows were raised in surprise. That was a good sign. She loved the idea of throwing him off balance. If she had any luck she would keep him like that all night.
She put the first bottle to her lips and took long, slow sips of the fruit-flavored wine, her eyes never leaving his. Then, her thirst quenched, she laid the bottle back on the table. Now it was his turn. She put the dewy bottle of sparkling water to Rafe’s lips.
“Drink,” she ordered.
Like a good little boy he put his lips to the mouth of the bottle and sucked on the clear, cold water till he’d downed more than half. He must have been really thirsty. Now it was time to see if he was just as thirsty for her.
Anya drew the bottle from Rafe’s mouth and as he licked his lips she reached out and placed his bottle on the table beside hers, all the while still holding his hooded gaze. Then, as seductively as she knew how, she closed her eyes, gave her lips a tiny pout and leaned forward, achingly slowly, until her lips touched his.
Rafe’s lips softened at her touch but outside of that he didn’t move. It was as if he wanted her to take control and she did not mind that one bit.
Encouraged by his acquiescence Anya leaned into him, letting her hands slide inside the collar of his shirt to clasp the warmth of his shoulders, pressing her lips against his until he moaned and gave her entrance. Then as she tasted his tongue and the inner softness of his mouth she slid a hand up to clasp his nape, holding him immobile as she plundered his depths.
He moaned again and this time she released him, sliding her lips away until she was caressing the strength of his throat with the soft silkiness of her tongue. As she slid across to taste the sweet skin of his neck his pulse beat an erratic rhythm beneath her lips.
Holding nothing back, Anya moved lower, intent on giving him all the pleasure he’d given her. There was no place for shyness now. Not tonight.
Quickly she loosened the buttons on his shirt. Just like he’d done, she teased his chest with feathery kisses then followed with a lascivious lick at a turgid nipple and even as a groan escaped his lips she was covering that stiff bud with her mouth, licking and sucking till he gasped and slid down on the ground, flat on the floor, and pulled her down on top of him.
“I want you,” she whispered fiercely and, showing no hesitation, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, leaving his upper body bare to her gaze. What she saw made her lick her lips in anticipation. Broad, muscled chest, perfect washboard abs and a narrow waist leading to lean h*ps that disappeared beneath the waistband of low-slung jeans.