Nothing is under control.

I’m decidedly out of control and on the verge of spiraling further into the Forbidden Zone. I came *this close* to banging my brother-in-law’s brother yesterday, and if I remain in Rafe’s company much longer, I have no doubt it’s going to happen.

As we sit in his sunny breakfast nook, sipping coffee and flipping through the paper, it’s a constant struggle to keep my focus on the words swimming in front of my eyes. Instead, I keep seeing the wicked curve of Rafe’s mouth as he kissed his way up my thighs, feeling the silky texture of his hair as I clung to him for dear life while he made me feel things I haven’t felt in years.

Yes, other guys have made me come, but none of the men I’ve been with recently have had Rafe’s confidence, commitment, or undeniable skill.

Seriously, someone should award the man a master’s degree in making out.

A PhD in doing the dirty deed.

A post-doctorate fellowship in the fine art of French kissing in the way the French surely intended, with a man’s mouth making magic between his lover’s legs until her bones melt and her mind explodes in a burst of pink champagne bubbles.

“Are you sure a granola bar is enough for you?” Rafe asks. “I could make oatmeal. Or I’ve got a melon in the fridge.”

I clear my throat, forcing memories of his hands on my melons from my wayward thoughts. My breasts aren’t nearly as big as melons, and this lust fog is unacceptable. I’m a grown woman, not a teenager who’s just taken her first non-solo flight to Orgasm City, and it’s time I start acting like it.

Especially considering what an emotional mess I was by the time we left the fort yesterday. It took me a nap, two meals, and a long, out-like-the-dead night’s sleep to recover, for God’s sake.

Calm, cool, and controlled are the words of the day, and I intend to embody them fully.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.” I casually flip to the business section. “I’m usually coffee only before ten a.m. It takes my stomach a few hours to wake up.”

He grunts. “Not me. I wake up starving. Always.”

I bite back a comment about that not being surprising, considering the calories he must have burned while he was medaling in the oral sex Olympics—triple gold, all the way—and push my half-eaten bar across the table. “Have the rest of mine. Seriously, I’m good. I run mostly on caffeine and rancor anyway. At least lately.”

“The ill will I can understand, but you need more than caffeine.” He nods toward me. “Eat your granola bar. It’s the kind with extra protein, puts hair on your chest.”

I arch a brow. “Hair on my chest hasn’t been high on my wish list, but if after surveying the situation you think fuzz would be an improvement…”

He looks up, his dark eyes burning into mine over the top of his newspaper. “What happens in the blanket fort of silence stays in the blanket fort of silence.”

My lips curve and awareness prickles across my skin. “Yes, sir. My apologies.”

Rafe shakes his head in mock disapproval. “What am I going to do with you, Haverford?”

Race me to your bedroom and see which of us can get naked first?

Aloud I say, “Kick me to the curb, I suppose. I don’t want to cramp your style. I’m sure you must have plans for this glorious Sunday.”

He folds his paper in half and drops it onto the heavy wooden table. “I do, but you can tag along if you’re looking for an excuse not to go home. I told Tristan I’d come help fix the paddock at the shelter where he works. They’ve got some horses coming in tomorrow. Shouldn’t take me long, and you could help socialize the cats or something while you wait. Or dogs. Might be a ferret or two around. They’ve got all kinds of rescue animals up there.”

“Nice of you to offer,” I say, touched by the invitation. “But I can handle my mother solo until Emma gets back. You don’t have to babysit me.”

Rafe’s lips curve. “Babysitting isn’t what I had in mind.”

I arch a brow, my pulse picking up. “No?”

“No,” he says. “I was thinking we could go for a ride after, grab a bottle of wine, come back and drink it in the blanket fort of silence… I mean, we left it up. Might as well take advantage…”

“I did have an awfully nice time in that fort yesterday,” I say, biting my lip. “But if we make a return visit, I don’t want to be the only one taking her clothes off.”

“I don’t want that, either,” he says, sending a sizzle racing across my skin. “I was thinking last night, while I was lying awake listening to you snore in the guest room…”

“I do not snore,” I say calmly. “But continue.”

His grin widens. “I was thinking that… Well, if what happens in secret, stays in secret, there’s no reason for it not to happen again. Right?”

I press my tongue to the back of my teeth, forcing myself to think this through before leaping across the table and climbing into his lap. “We could never tell Dylan or Emma… Or do anything to make them suspect…”

“Absolutely,” Rafe says soberly. “I think we’ve established that. We’ve also established that we’re both adults, and both on the same page about what we want from each other.”

“Hot sex, no strings,” I supply, relishing the heat that flickers in his eyes.

“Yes. That.” He holds my gaze with an intensity that makes my stomach flip as he adds in a huskier voice, “Yesterday was incredible. But the next time we’re together, I don’t want to stop until I’m inside you.”

Holy hell. Yes, please, and thank you.

I scoot my chair away from the table, ready to propose that bedroom race right now, but Rafe stops me with a hand lifted in the air. “Hold that thought. We’ll get back to it ASAP, but we have to be in Healdsburg in forty minutes.”

My lips turn down hard and my brow furrows in despair. He’s got to be kidding me. Surely we can be ten minutes late to fix whatever he needs to fix and socialize the cats or whatever?

Rafe laughs. “You should see your face.”’

“I can feel my face.” I stand, arms hanging limply at my sides. “It’s the sad, confused face. The does-not-enjoy-waiting face.”

“I don’t enjoy waiting, either.” He stands, circling the table, making my blood hotter with every step. “But I enjoy rushing even less.” He draws me close until my breasts brush against his chest and a soft sound of longing escapes my lips. “I’m going to take my time with you, Haverford. It could take all day and all night.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be.” I skim my palms up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

Damn, this man is well made—every inch of muscled flesh more tempting than the last—and I can’t wait to make some memories worth keeping secret with him. But I have to be absolutely sure we’re on that same page he was talking about.

“Just to be clear.” I tip my head back, gazing up at him. “I’m not up for anything but the physical stuff from now on. I don’t need or want to wade into the emotional shit anymore. I just want to feel good, to make you feel good, and to walk away without any regrets. I have enough of those already.” I take a breath, hurrying on before he can speak. “And I wouldn’t want to hurt you or disappoint you or do anything else to make your life unpleasant. You seem like a really decent guy, Valentine.”

His mouth quirks up on one side. “Thank you, Caroline. I try to be a decent guy. And no worries. I haven’t had a relationship that lasted longer than six months in my entire life, and I don’t intend to start now.”

My brows lift. “Shameless commitment-phobe?”

“Shameless serial monogamist,” he corrects without a hint of self-consciousness, making me inclined to take him at his word. “And my only goal for our time together is for both of us to come hard and come often until it stops being entertaining to one or both parties. Then we go back to being friends who run into each other at the occasional family gathering. Easy. Simple.”

“So you promise not to fall madly in love with me,” I tease.

“I don’t do love,” he says seriously. “Not that kind, anyway. I’m not sure I’m capable, to be honest.”

Brows lifting, I nod. “I’m not sure I am, either.”

At least not anymore. After this nightmare with Jordan, I doubt I’ll be able to trust a man enough to let love into the picture ever again. Not that I was anywhere close to being in love with Jordan, but I never imagined he’d become the sociopath currently plaguing my life.

It’s enough to give a girl major trust issues.

“So we’re good.” Rafe’s hand slides down to cup my bottom through my shorts, making my breath catch. “Now get your fine ass downstairs. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.”