Chapter 35
Evangeline
Raph lies next to me, his strong chest rising and falling easily. The morning light streams in between the spaces in the curtains, casting a surreal glow on his face.
Everything about this is surreal.
I still can't believe that I'm in love with a man like him – strong, powerful, handsome, experienced – and I can't believe that he loves me, too. Who would have thought that selling myself at an auction would have such a happy conclusion? It's so good. Too good to be true.
My eyes devour his sexy, naked form. His chiseled face with the dusting of silver bristle on his chin. His wide shoulders and the sprinkle of hair on his muscular chest. The sexy V that I thought was reserved for men half his age. His thick, toned legs and the stiff tree trunk hanging between them.
I want to touch him. I want to climb on top of him and ride him. I want him to wake up with my pussy soaking his dick. Not just today. Every day.
But he needs his rest. He works hard. He may be in Reyfield with me but he’s still involved in his business in New York. Plus, he found time to help me move.
I love how he finds time for me in his busy life. How he takes care of me. Every girl should find a guy like that.
Grudgingly deciding to let him rest, I climb out of bed and tiptoe across the tiny room. My bladder screaming for relief.
I'm halfway to the bathroom when I hear a light tap at the door and voices speaking in hushed tones in the hallway.
I glance at the clock. It's just before 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Who the hell could be at the door? The answer nearly knocks me flat on my ass when I look through the peephole and see my parents standing there.
My mother holds a small birthday cake while my father fiddles with a lighter, trying to light the candle.
Holy fucking goddamn motherfucking shit!
My heart kicks into high gear as I leap onto the bed and give Raph a rough shake. "Mmm?" He looks at me with groggy eyes and a tired smile spreads across his face. "Hey babe." The morning rasp in his voice sends sensations that are currently entirely inappropriate down my spine.
I shake them off. There's an emergency on the other side of the door. "My parents are here."
At that, he bolts upright in bed. "What? Here?"
I nod vigorously. "In the hallway. With cake."
That knock at the door again. "Fucking Christ!" he mutters, pushing his fingers through his hair.
My mother's voice calls out. "Raph! We know you're in there. We're not letting you ignore the fact that it's your birthday. Not this year. Open up."
We share a look. Raph's face is irritated to the point of violence. Meanwhile, I'm sure that my expression is painted with fear.
"Should we just ignore them? Pretend that no one's here?"
He shakes his head. "You know how persistent your mother is. She won't go away until she sees my face and force-feeds me a slice of cake."
God – he's right.
Shit. We had planned on telling them about us next week. We were going to take them to a nice restaurant, sit them down and explain what happened, sparing the details that would send my father into a rage. I just hope that we can keep our secret safe for a little while longer.
"Here." Raph climbs out of bed and grabs my leggings, my shoes and some other random scrap of fabric (a pillow case, I think) from off the floor as my mother knocks again. "You stay in the bathroom. I'll get rid of them." He shoves them into my hands then steps into his boxers.
I'm not so sure about this. "Raph, don't open the door," I beg as I follow after him.
He braces me by the shoulders. Places a kiss on my forehead. "It'll be okay," he promises in a hushed tone. “Now, get into the bathroom.”
Famous last words...