Rafe wasn’t sure what to do with you. You were a handful when you were sober, and now that you were the drunken birthday girl, you were downright impossible.

He was regretting bringing you back to his place to sober up. The smart thing would’ve been to take you right home. But something about the way you were so uninhibited when drunk, made him want to take care of you. And Rafe never wanted to take care of anybody.

“What’s this?” You trace the edge of his tattoo that just peeks out from under the edge of his t-shirt sleeve. You were surprised that he’d marked up his skin.

“A tattoo” he replies, trying to ignore the way your fingers on his arm sends a shiver down his spine.

“Maybe I should get one, here” you raise the hem of your dress to point to a spot on your upper thigh. Rafe silently swears in his head at the sight of your bare skin.

“You know,” you move closer to him, bridging the distance between the two of you. You’re so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against his face as you speak. “You never got me a birthday present”

“Sorry about that, Princess” he mutters, hating the way your words made his chest ache. He actually felt bad that he hadn’t gotten you anything.

You trail your fingers up his arm, leaning closer so that your faces are almost touching and all he can think about is your lips.

“You could be my birthday present. I’ve wished for you every birthday since I was thirteen” you whisper into his ear, punctuating your words by biting his earlobe.

“Not a good idea, Princess”

“Why not?” You look up at him from under your eyelashes, pouting. “Seems like an excellent idea to me.”

“Because you’re drunk. And you’re going to wake up tomorrow and you’ll hate me if I took advantage” It’s taking everything in him to resist you. You offering yourself to him was something he’d fantasized about.

“I won’t. I want this. I want you” you press your body closer to him, and he gazes down at you entranced.

“You’re drunk, Aoife. You don’t know what you want”