Going Hard: Boys of Fall by Cari Quinn

open, as did her freaking mouth.
    “That was a forty-dollar bra, dammit!”
    “I’ll buy you three others that suit these perfect breasts. It should enhance, not augment. Because these,” he cupped her gently, “do not need augmenting.”
    She honestly didn’t know what to say to that. His chest was rising and falling as he looked down at her. “Rafe,” she whispered.
    “Don’t fucking talk.” He pressed his forehead to the wall beside her neck. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”
    “I…” She swallowed.
    She was perfect? Since when? All those years he’d never so much as glanced her way when she’d been dying for the smallest crumb from him…a wink, a smile, a teasing remark. All the things other guys gave out so easily that somehow made her feel nothing at all unless they were from Rafe.
    Rafe, who never did any of them. But she knew, just knew, that if he did? She’d feel everything.
    He swiped his thumb over one tip, then rolled it until she arched under him.
    “Fuck,” he muttered—and lowered his mouth to her other breast and covered her nipple with his lips. He tugged and laved around the tight tip before dragging his teeth over her skin and finally right where she wanted him. Tugging at her nipple with a flash of bright white teeth in the dark.
    Her fingers went right for his hair and held him there. Not that she had to worry about it, because he didn’t seem inclined to move. He tugged the other, rolling it between two fingers as he sucked strongly on the first.
    Her entire body lit up like the jukebox next to them.
    No way.
    She rolled her hips against him as a restless hunger built in her lower belly. He slid his knee between her legs and she moaned when the seam of her jeans brushed her clit.
    His hot breath fanned over her chest and along her ribs as he licked a path under her breast to the one he’d neglected and tasted that one, too. “Can you come from this?” he asked.
    “I never have before.” Was that her voice? It was needy and dark, just like she felt.
    His knee rose higher and he rocked against her, his cock hard against her belly.
    “God.” She gripped his hair harder and felt the rumble of his growl against her skin. His sucking intensified and she rocked faster, rolling her hips just how she needed to when she was alone.
    It felt weird to do it with this man. Weird and hot and wonderful all at the same time. He plucked at her nipple and she moaned his name.
    Just as she was going to beg him to touch her, to rub something, the jukebox flared to life next to them and Garth Brooks twanged about friends in low places.
    Coincidentally, since her low places were crying a bitter tune.
    Rafe jerked away from her, his dark eyes bright with shock and heavy-lidded with lust. She’d never seen that look on him. He’d been so contained that night with her.
    The night she’d never forget, even if in the end it had been disappointing. Probably because reality could never compete with the fantasies she’d had of him since she was a teenager.
    Shoulders heaving, he stared at her. All she could see was his mouth, pink from going to town on her. He brushed his knuckles over her skin once and the lust shuttered away.
    “Rafe?”
    He swallowed. “We can’t do this.”
    She sagged against the wall. “Who said?”
    “I did.” He snapped the straps—which shouldn’t have been hot, but oh God, so was—and swiped the bra off and away before his nimble fingers buttoned her shirt as quickly as he’d undone it.
    Of course, now the shirt fit—a little too well without the extra padding, actually. Her nipples were tight and pushed against the flimsy material. He tried to tie the bottom, but she pushed his hand away and did it herself.
    There were a few scratches on her skin from his evening’s scruff, but otherwise she was back to normal. Regular Hollie Bennett in the flesh.
    And he could resist her as usual.
    Whatever momentary insanity had infiltrated his brain had slipped away