Betrayed: Days of the Rogue (25 page)

“No! Of course not! Well, I mean,
not for this particular book. It already has a cover.” She was
babbling she knew it. Stretching out her arm, she tried to take the
novel away.

He easily held it out of reach.
“But what about the covers you
are
designing?”

It was apparent he wasn’t going to
let the matter drop. Eve assumed her professional tone. “I find it
helpful to have an individual—a certain body type—in mind when
drawing. I need to imagine them in the situation, think of how
their bodies would be positioned, their frame of mind, the
expressions on their face.”

“Ah!” He nodded and she gave a sigh
of relief thinking the subject was closed. She shoved a few sketch
pads in her bag and then reached for some drawing pencils. It
necessitated her squeezing between Rafe and the desk, but this time
he didn’t respond to her nudging to move. Her bottom brushed
against his body, and she gave a quick inhale as her mind
registered the fact that he was definitely at half-mast. She tried
to move away but he put his arm around her waist and held her in
place, even pulling her back a bit so she had the full effect of
his erection pressing between her butt cheeks.

“Rafe?”

He nuzzled her neck and whispered
in her ear. “Do you ever imagine yourself in those books?”

“Um…sometimes.” She swallowed
suddenly finding it hard to string two words together.

“Is it me pressing you close?
Holding you?” He cupped her breast, the heat of his hand burning
through the layers of cloth. Her nipple hardened as he gently
kneaded her flesh. A soft kiss pressed just below her ear caused
her to catch her breath.

Flutters of excitement stirred in
her stomach. She tilted her head to the side in a silent request,
allowing him easier access to her neck. Rafe’s kisses affected her
like no one else’s ever had, and with each encounter she found
herself craving him even more.

Taking her up on her unspoken
offer, he gently bit on the exposed cord, then lathed the area with
his tongue. Eve whimpered as the flutters inside her became a warm
pool of need. She tried to turn to face him, but he tightened his
arm around her waist.

“Stay still.” There was a rough
edge to his voice, almost a growl and the sound of it sent shivers
down her spine. She contented herself with gripping the forearm
that pinned her to him, feeling the tendons and muscles, the heat
of his skin.

Releasing her breast, he rubbed his
hand up and down the front of her thigh, coming ever closer to her
centre. Eve felt her heartbeat quicken, anticipation making her
squirm and clutch his restraining arm even tighter.

“Do you like that?” He murmured the
question, his lips skimming her cheek bone and then her temple.

“Yes.” She hissed the answer, and
tipped her head so she could see his face. His gaze was intent, his
eyes almost black as they stared into hers. Once again there was a
stirring sensation in the back of her mind, but she was too caught
up in what she was feeling to really care.

Rafe twisted slightly and caught
her mouth in a hard kiss. At the same time he cupped the apex of
her thighs and the feel of his hand touching her so intimately,
even through layers of clothing, almost had her legs giving way. He
rocked his hand back and forth over her sensitive flesh and she
moaned as the sweet aching inside her began to grow. Her hips
flexed, brushing her butt against his now straining erection. It
was as if she were sandwiched between two sources of pleasure.

Her focus narrowed. His hand
rocking against her core, his hardness thrusting against her
behind. He was holding her head now, his fingers threaded through
her hair, lightly pulling as he invaded her mouth. Feeling built
within her, sensation piling upon sensation. Needing something to
hold on to, she reached back, grasping at his head, his shoulder.
Her fingers curled, her nails seeking purchase, as the tower of
desire he’d constructed within her began to quiver. She was almost
there, if he’d just…

“No.” Abruptly, he let her go and
stepped back.

She stumbled, clutching the table
edge, disoriented from his sudden withdrawal, her body quivering
with the need for release. “Rafe…?” Her brain was foggy, bereft
from the sudden feeling of being alone, unable to process what was
going on. It was as if someone had pulled the plug that allowed it
to function properly and she was trying to access backup power.

Rafe stood a few feet away, his
fists clenched at his side, his head bowed. She could see his
muscles quivering as he breathed deeply. His face was contorted
making her think he was experiencing some sort of anguish.

“What’s wrong?” Eve took a step
towards him, reaching her hand out towards him. Her own sense of
loss was forgotten in her concern for him.

“Don’t touch me.” He barked the
words at her and she pulled her hand back, wondering what was going
on. Had she done something wrong? Self-doubt curdled the desire
within her and she wrapped her arms around her waist feeling cold
and lost. Was this some form of payback for last night? But that
hadn’t been her fault…

Seconds ticked by before Rafe
finally turned towards her. His face was a study of hard angles and
planes, lines bracketing his firmed lips. When he spoke his voice
was rough, his words clipped.

“I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have
happened.”

Eve blinked. Was he apologizing for
starting or for stopping?

“I got carried away, and that’s
unacceptable. At least not until we both know what we’re dealing
with.”

“Dealing with?” She shook her head
having no idea what he was referring to. “Does this have anything
to do with last night? Because if it does, then—”

He interrupted abruptly. “You’re
Fae, aren’t you?”

“Uh…” She was shocked at the
question. It was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Did he
suspect? Well, he must, but how had she given herself away? And how
should she answer? She tried to stall for time. “I beg your
pardon?”

“You heard me, though I’m not
really asking. I’m stating a fact.” He stepped closer, his eyes
fixed on hers, deep and all knowing. “You’re in the awakening
phase. You’ve been having vague headaches, picking up on the
emotions of others. Your mental wall is still shaky. The energy
pulse of the earth is becoming clearer to you… Am I right?”

She tried to step back, unable to
look away as he continued to advance, but could only take one step
before bumping into the edge of table. Gripping the edge of the
drawing surface, she braced herself. Lost in his gaze, she held her
breath, somehow knowing what he was going to say.

He stopped barely an arm’s length
away, an undefinable expression on his face. “I know what you’re
going through, Eve. I’ve experienced at least some of it. You see,
I’m Fae, too, or an empath, if you prefer that term.”

While she’d been expecting his
admission, actually hearing the words had her mouth dropping open
and she gaped at him.

A smile curled the corner of his
mouth, and he reached out with one long digit and pushed up on her
chin, closing her mouth. “I seem to have left you speechless.”

“Well…” She paused having no idea
what she should say.

“No comment? No questions?” When
she didn’t respond he gave a brief nod. “A novice, exactly as I
suspected. I take it I’m the first of our kind you’ve
encountered?”

She nodded, having some difficulty
believing what he’d said. Rafe was Fae, like her!

He chuckled softly. “Come, I’ll
explain.” Taking her by the hand, he led her to the sofa. Once she
was seated, he sat in the chair opposite her and leaned forward,
his elbows resting on his knees.

“Fae have no way of identifying
each other. We blend in perfectly with regular humans. Some might
see it as a safety feature, but mostly it’s damned annoying.”

She frowned. “If there’s no way of
knowing then how…?”

“Did I know you were one? I suppose
I misspoke. There are a few ways to identify a Fae but they aren’t
obvious. If a Fae has his or her mental block down, another Fae can
identify them. And when two Fae become…close…a circuit of emotional
feedback begins. It’s called a mental bridge. That’s what tipped me
off about you.”

“Emotional feedback?” It sounded
pretty weird to her.

“When we touch, or kiss, our
emotional barriers can slip if we aren’t careful and we can feel
what the other Fae is feeling. Our kiss the other day made me
suspicious.”

She recalled that kiss, how she’d
been almost senseless afterwards. How he’d pulled away and become
so cold and detached. “Why didn’t you say something then?”

“Like you, I was surprised by the
discovery. There aren’t that many of us left. The Fae gene is
recessive and breeding with humans has diluted the blood line.
Encountering another Fae is rare. I suppose I needed some time to
process the information.”

“And you decided now was the time?
Right in the middle of…” She faltered and waved her hand in a
general way between the two of them.

“Making out?” He shook his head. “I
hadn’t intended to touch you. My mental image of you drawing the
two of us in a scene from the book, combined with some unreleased
sexual tension from last night, got the better of me. When things
seemed to be getting out of hand, I knew I had to pull back and
explain. There can be no repeat of last night. It wouldn’t be fair
to either of us.”

“Fair?”

“Empaths can become almost addicted
to each other. Emotional feedback heightens the effect of the brain
chemicals, like dopamine and oxytocin, that are released during
sex. And each subsequent encounter between that particular pair of
Empaths increases the effect.

“Emotional feedback? Addicted?” She
blinked. Okay, this was most definitely weird.

“I’m not making this up, Eve.
Humans have a similar reaction to sex – research shows that the
brain during an orgasm looks much like the brain of a person taking
heroin. There’s about a ninety-five percent correlation. With
Empaths, the effects don’t fade completely.”

She stared at him stunned.

“When Empaths begin to engage in
sexual activity, their mental wall can slip. A bridge begins to
form between their minds, a direct link if you will, that allows
complete access to what the other person is feeling, to the effects
of those brain chemicals. The emotions feed off each other, growing
exponentially and, in essence, give the participants what might be
considered the best sex they’ve ever experienced.”

Eve digested what he was saying.
Kissing Rafe had been incredible and sex with him… Well, she
had
felt as if she were drugged.

“The short of it is that once
Empaths have sex with each other, they crave the chemical rush—what
some might call an endorphin high—and they want to repeat the
experience. Each encounter forges a stronger bridge until they are
essentially bound together.”

“Wow. That’s um…” Eve fumbled, not
sure how to respond. When Rafe said he’d explain, she’d thought
he’d tell her about forming a stronger mental wall, or how the Fae
came about, or maybe even how one’s ‘powers’ developed and changed
with age. This was not at all what she’d been expecting.

“It’s a bit hard to take in, I’m
sure.” He was studying her, his face sporting its usual bland
expression. How did he do that? Talk about something as intimate as
having sex with the same nonchalance as ordering whole wheat
toast?

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. It
felt scratchy and dry. “Hard to take in about sums it up.”

“Any questions?” He prompted.

She tucked her hair behind her ears
and tried concentrate on what she’d just learned. Having sex with
Rafe, or any other Fae, resulted in some sort of chemical rush that
eventually resulted in a bond. Were she and Rafe already bonded?
The idea gave her a funny quivery feeling in her stomach, not
totally unpleasant at all. “How many times can a couple…um…have sex
before that ‘bond’ forms?”

“It varies from person to person,
how frequently they’re intimate, how strong their empathic
abilities are, their ability to maintain a mental wall.” Rafe
paused and for the first time a fleeting glimpse of emotion crossed
his face. He stood up and walked to the window, flicking the
curtain to the side. The light spilling in revealed the twitching
muscle in the side of his jaw. “I don’t think we should chance it
since neither of us are looking for a permanent relationship.”

“Right.” Eve nodded, understanding
what he was saying. He didn’t want to be stuck with her for the
rest of his life. It made perfect sense. She purposely ignored the
ache in the region of her heart.

Rafe turned towards her and she
tried not to show how shell-shocked she felt. Her emotions were
running the gamut from anger to despair. Her head was spinning from
the information dump she’d just been exposed to and—she sneezed
twice in rapid succession—she wondered if she was catching a cold.
No doubt rolling around in a puddle last night was to blame. She
scowled noting that Rafe gave every indication of being as fit as
the proverbial fiddle.

“Are you all right?” He cocked his
head.

“Never better.” She’d be damned if
she’d admit anything to him now. Getting to her feet, she looked
around for the bag of items she’d been gathering. “Shouldn’t we be
going? You said you had lots of work to do.” Most likely he saw
right through her avoidance tactics but at this point she didn’t
really care.

He nodded and glanced at his watch.
“You’re right. I need to get going. Damien called earlier. He’s
going to need the truck to get some more posts from the lumberyard.
He’ll be waiting.”

Eve eyed Rafe, wondering if he was
still angry with Damien. It couldn’t have been jealousy that set
him off this morning; the man had basically just dumped her. She
rubbed her forehead still unable to make any sense out of the
strange relationship the two men had.