You told yourself it was just physical. A way to scratch an itch, nothing more. Because Rafe Cameron was your ex for a reason—multiple reasons, actually. The lying, the manipulation, the way he'd decide what was "best for you" without bothering to ask. The explosive temper that made your friends pull you aside at parties, concern etched into their faces as they reminded you that you deserved better.

And you knew that. You'd ended things months ago, stood your ground even when he'd shown up at your place with that desperate look in his eyes, the one that made your resolve waver. You'd been strong then.

Now? Not so much.

It started with a chance encounter at the beach bonfire, too many drinks, and the way his gaze had tracked your every movement across the sand like you were the only person there. One thing led to another, and suddenly you were in his truck, his mouth hot against your neck as he murmured your name like a prayer.

Just once, you'd told yourself. To get it out of your system.

Except once became twice. Then weekends. A pattern you couldn't seem to break.

The sex was—God, it was good. Rafe knew your body like he'd mapped every inch of it, committed every reaction to memory. He was attentive and intense and completely focused on you in a way that made your head spin. Maybe that was part of the problem. He'd always been obsessed, and that obsession translated into a kind of devotion in bed that you couldn't find anywhere else.

Tonight was no different. Your sheets were tangled around your legs, skin still flushed as you caught your breath. Before you could move, Rafe's chest pressed against your back, warm and solid, his arms winding around your waist like vines.

"Don't even think about it," you warned, trying to squirm away.

"Think about what?" His voice was rough against your ear, lips brushing your shoulder. "I'm just lying here."

"You're clinging."

"I prefer 'holding.'" His nose nuzzled into the curve of your neck, and you felt him smile against your skin. "Big difference."

You tried to elbow him off, but he only tightened his grip, pulling you flush against him. "Rafe—"

"Mhmm?" He was practically purring now, face buried in your hair. "You were saying?"

"This is just physical. No cuddling, no staying over—"

"You're really gonna kick me out?" He actually had the audacity to sound wounded. "After I just made you—"

"Don't finish that sentence."

"—made you dinner last week? I'm talking about dinner. What'd you think I meant?" The smugness in his voice made you want to scream.

"You're impossible."

"And yet, here we are." His thumb traced lazy circles on your hip. "Besides, you know the rules. You break it, you buy it."

"That's for stores, Rafe."

"Same principle applies." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, then another. "You ruined me for anyone else. Take responsibility."

You snorted despite yourself. "Pretty sure you ruined yourself."

"See? We're perfect for each other." Another kiss, this time at the nape of your neck. "Just admit you like having me here."

"I tolerate you here."

"That's basically a love confession from you." His arms squeezed you gently. "I'll take it." You could feel his grin against your skin.

"Okay, seriously." You shoved harder at his arm this time, managing to create about an inch of space before he closed it again. "You need to leave. This was supposed to be quick and—"

"It was quick. Round one, anyway." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Round two we took our time—"

"Rafe, seriously lea—"

"Mhm too late. M'already comfortable." He nuzzled deeper, sighing contentedly. "Besides, you know I can't sleep without you."

"You survived twenty years before me."

"Barely. Those were dark times."

"Rafe—"

"Just ten more minutes, baby." His voice dropped, went soft and drowsy. One of his hands slid up to lace his fingers through yours against your stomach, holding you like an anchor. "Then I'll go." He was already hooking his leg over yours, tangling your bodies together like he was trying to fuse you into one person.