Rafe Cameron Aesthetic Novels & Stories

“Stephanie Meyers, Anne Rice, or Brahm Stoker?” “No idea. I don’t read any of them. She likes darkness, Victorian dress, and sleeping in a coffin.” Rafe laughed even harder at that. “At least she’s not a Twilight fan.” “Callum!” I called to my cousin. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Rafe. He really liked that special wine you make.” Callum, a thirty year old with brown hair that was starting to go gray at the temples, looked up from his conversation with his dad. “I had no idea there was a viable market for it. It is, after all, not strictly on the right side of the law.”

he stated sarcastically. “But it seems like you are!” I stated and looked around. “Listen, it’s cool! If you don’t want to have a tattoo, I will do it anyway!” Raf exclaimed and that man approached us. “Raf!” he screamed. “Aaron!” Raf screamed and they hugged each other. Aaron was probably in his mid forties. He had a round face, brown chocolate skin. He was well-built. His nose was flat and he had dark short hair. His eyes were hazel and big.

Aiden left a laugh, “No, she was charming. I didn’t mind clearing up her confusion. Although, that is not going to be enough for her though. She’s probably expecting your company.” “Yeah, well.” Jamie shrugged, dismissing the topic. Rafa hadn’t failed to notice that and an evil smirk surfaced on his face, realizing that he had found yet another opportunity to pull his leg. “Yeah, Jamie is just going to ignore her until his anger comes down.” “Anger?” Aiden asked quizzically while Jamie glared at Rafa. “Why would you be angry at her?” Jamie looked at him with reluctance, “It’s nothing.” “Well, she must have said something that he didn’t like.” Rafa said, “Jamie’s very sensitive like that.”

Rafe merely gave her a knowing smile. He had none of the possessive air of a Dom about him today, yet she had the feRafeng he still maintained control. Always directing and manipulating. Since he did it in such a charming manner, she found it hard to be annoyed. They spent a lazy afternoon sightseeing. Rafe stopped at a ranch owned by a friend of his, to show her the cutting horses they bred. He explained about their use on a working ranch. They visited another winery, but this time they only did the tasting, no picnic. And they hit other places of interest.

He can see hints of Leah’s work in it, but he can also see much of mine, adjustments I've made here and there, just so I could be less noticeable, so I can keep Fenrir Dragmir intact and let Cain be the only one damaged. I let the illusion fall and maybe it’s because I've always thought of it as an illusion, there is a shimmer to my skin as it drops. A sharp intake of breath comes next and then the Lycan King gets his emotions under control. I smirk. “You’d have spooked the horses if you let your aura out like that.” Rafie nods and takes a deep breath. I see myself reflected in his eyes again. Cain, with silver hair and crescent eyes, pale skin that’s still a patchwork of raw red and purple

Right now, I hope to be unrecognizable. A shoulder bumps into mine. I look over to apologize but lose all normal train of thought when I lock eyes with the man I came to see. Camden Hunter is as beautiful as the art he displays. He looks like he’s walked right off the pages of a catalog. With two artist parents, it’s like they couldn’t produce anything that wasn’t anything less than a work of art— their son included.

It felt like strangers owning a map of my skin. The beauty brand paused the fitting by email before we even reached the house. Maya read it out loud in the kitchen with her voice flat. “They are postponing until the conversation has settled. They thank you for your understanding.” “They can thank me by growing a spine,” I said. “I will handle them. You will not tweet that sentence.” Rafael set his phone on the counter. “Damien Crowe liked three of the original posts. He unliked them eight minutes later.” I stared at him. “Of course he did.”

Until… "I still can't believe how good you two look together." The voice behind me froze me in place. My stomach tightened, and I turned slowly. When I saw who it was, I almost jumped out of my skin as I realized how royally fucked we were. Rafe Costa was standing there calmly, dressed in an immaculate navy suit with his hair slicked back, and that same easy smile that used to fool everyone. He looked different, and more refined. But those cold and sharp eyes of his hadn't changed at all.

Cade could doubt whatever he wanted, but he could never doubt a fashion designer's tastes by saying something was unsightly. Cameron frowned as she scanned him from head to toe. He was always dressed impeccably. Yet, his appreciation for fashion was terribly basic. Cameron had initially been furious, but once a thought crossed her mind, her anger deflated. "Forget it. What's the point of wasting my breath on you? How good can your taste be if you can fancy someone as two-faced as Mirabelle and even get engaged to her?"

I blinked when the soft glow of the crystal lamp hit my eyes, my heart hammering wildly as the man who had taken me stepped into view. Rafe. That was the name his men had whispered with reverence and fear. He is a charismatic criminal leader, they called him the one who ruled the city’s shadows with a velvet smile and an iron fist. He was taller than I expected, broad-shouldered in a tailored black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a glimpse of smooth, tanned skin marked by a single silver scar along his clavicle. His eyes were a piercing hazel that seemed to drink in every detail of my disheveled state.