Don’t play with me, Rafe.” Quinn’s anguished whisper tore through Rafe, shredding the pleasurable glow their kiss left in him. “I can’t—” Rafe didn’t know what was funnier—the shock of Quinn believing he’d lead him on or his own arrogance in thinking Quinn would be all in solely because Rafe’d kissed him. The pain in Quinn’s eyes was real, the anguish in his voice a tear across Rafe’s soul. “Hey, no, no, no.” Rafe brushed a kiss across Quinn’s cheek, then shifted his weight back onto his haunches, careful not to rest on Quinn’s legs. “Q, you’ve got to know, I’m not—babe, today when you called me, I was in the middle of playing with the Sinners’ guys, but I heard your voice, and all I could think about was getting the fuck out of there to be with you.” “You should have stayed with them. You should have….” Quinn’s teeth worried at his lower lip, dimpling the swell Rafe’d just tasted.
