Old Money - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 7

Waking up on Rafe Cameron's chest was a whole other feeling. His soft, yet hard chest beneath her head and her leg wrapped over his waist, his hand loosely holding her calf as she blinked awake.

She looked around the room, trying to remember where she was and how she got there, and she scanned the bed she was laying in. The navy blue sheets, medium gray comforter, and white walls, she knew she was in Rafe Cameron's room. And just like she thought, she heard the light snore of Rafe Cameron from right beside her.

Shit. His deep breathing was moving her head up and down and she tried to think of what to do. If Rafe saw her laying on his chest like this, she'd never hear the end of it. She slowly crawled out of his grip, her absence making him roll over as well. And she turned over away from him and checked the clock on the nightstand to see it was only five thirty in the morning. She rubbed her face and tried to fall back asleep. She knew the most sleep she could get, the better. She would most definitely be hungover later.

What even happened last night? Did she and Rafe do anything while the both of them were too intoxicated to remember? Why was she in this bed instead of the guest bed, or even Sarah's?

She knew that she remembered throwing up and he brought her home, but what after that?

She turned over her shoulder to look at him, trying to see if that would jog any memories, but to no avail.

She closed her eyes tightly and tried to see if she could remember doing anything with Rafe. Holding him, kissing him, writhing and panting beneath him...

Woah, Audrey. Was all she could think. She didn't need any crude throats of Rafe Cameron entering her brain... but why did she like it? It felt so natural yet so foreign. So perfect but out of place.

She'd never looked at him that way, but she must admit was tall, handsome, and had a very nice body that would certainly look good on top of her. He's good looking in a way that a girl getting over a relationship should stay away from. Was she hungover or did she actually feel this way? Since when was she unable to sleep because all she could think of was getting off to Rafe Cameron?

She turned back over her shoulder to look at him and yes, even in his sleep he was hot with his beautiful hair falling over his face. Every breath he took blew up a strand of hair, and each time it fell exactly where it needed to. A simple innocent thought left her with a heaving chest and heartbeat between her legs. Only from the thought of Rafe Cameron.

What is happening?

It was no secret that Rafe had been with many girls before, but Audrey always ignored it. She never looked at him that way. She had a girlish crush on him pre-puberty but that barely even counted.

She shut her eyes to try and shut out her thoughts as well, and eventually her tired and hungover brain brought her back to sleep, hopefully to sleep away the thoughts that had previously rushed into her head.

However, she was woken up by the feeling of Rafe's head nestling into the back of her neck. She didn't dare move. Never would she have imagined that the cold and heartless Rafe Cameron would curl up into her body like he was doing. Was he asleep? Did he know that he was doing this? And if he was aware... was it out of care or comfort?

This was not helping her intrusive mind. His hands were mere inches away from the waistband of her borrowed shorts. .

Audrey, stop. She said to herself, altering her thoughts by thinking of anything other than Rafe. She began thinking of her cat...wondering if he was okay back home... but her cat led to her family, which led to her brother, therefore leading to Rafe.

Thinking about him like this felt dangerous. Maybe there had been a chemistry between them for a while. He stuck by her side the whole party, concerned when she talked to another guy—Josh—and proceeded to care for her and take her home when she'd gotten sick. He didn't have to do that. He could have left her on the bathroom floor. One could say she'd been a little flirtatious with him last night, but she's always that way when she's drunk. And maybe he'd been flirtatious with her as well. But it's hard to distinguish how he's feeling. He's different from the guys she usually goes for, he keeps his emotions deep inside, never letting anyone know what he's thinking, it was so confusing. But apparently her body wasn't confused because her hormones race-launched through her, her blood stream going warmer by the second. Her mind couldn't let go of thoughts of them tangled together in these very sheets, his beautiful ice-cold eyes filled with lust while he panted and moaned at how good she felt around him.