Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 22

Rafe's POV

Teresa's room was small, warm, and filled with the soft scent of her—something floral and sweet that made my head spin. I stood there, feeling strangely out of place, my gaze flickering around the space as she closed the door behind us.

"I'll take a shower," she murmured softly, her voice hesitant.

"Oh. Okay." The words tumbled out awkwardly, and I shifted on my feet, unsure of what to do next.

But then she paused, her gaze dropping to the floor for a second before she glanced back up at me, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Do you... need one too?"

The question hung between us, heavy with something unspoken, and I felt my breath hitch, my heart pounding in my chest. She's inviting me in. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from my lungs.

"Yeah," I muttered softly, my voice low and rough. "Yeah, I do."

She nodded slowly, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion. The sight of her bare skin, the way her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, made my mouth go dry, my hands clenching at my sides.

"Come on," she whispered, turning toward the bathroom, her gaze flickering back to me over her shoulder.

I followed her, the tension in my chest tightening with each step, my mind racing with a mix of desire and something darker—something I couldn't quite name. But I shoved it down, focused on the way she looked at me, the way she trusted me enough to let me in.

The bathroom was small, the soft sound of water filling the space as she turned on the shower, steam slowly curling up around us. She glanced at me, her gaze wide and searching, and for a moment, I thought she might change her mind. But then she stepped into the shower, her fingers reaching out to beckon me in.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening, and followed her, the warm water cascading over us, soaking into my skin, washing away the grime and blood and everything else that hurt.

And then we were there, standing together under the water, the heat of her body pressed against mine, her hands sliding up my chest, her touch soft and tentative.

"Teresa," I murmured, my voice trembling.

"It's okay," she whispered, her gaze locking onto mine. "It's... it's okay, Rafe."

Her hands slid lower, and then she was kissing me, her lips soft and warm against mine, her breath mingling with mine in a tangled, uneven rhythm. The desire twisted through me, hot and sharp, making my vision blur, and I reached for her, my grip tightening as I pulled her closer.

But then I felt it—the way she stiffened, just slightly, the way her fingers tightened against my chest. And I knew. Knew I was being too rough, too harsh. Like I always was.

"Gentle," she whispered softly, her voice breaking through the haze of need. "Rafe... gentle. Feel."

The words were soft, barely audible over the sound of the water, but they cut through the chaos in my head like a blade. Gentle. I didn't know how to be gentle. Didn't know how to touch without breaking, without bruising.

But I tried. For her, I tried.

My grip loosened, my hands trembling as I let them slide down her sides, the warmth of her skin searing into me, making me feel like I was coming apart at the seams. I moved slowly, carefully, my fingers tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine.