Rafe Cameron Movies Novels & Stories

A hand is plunged into the tomb, Rafe waits for me to take it. And I do. The connection of a nightmare flashes before my eyes, but I quickly let go when I’m far enough out of that hellhole. He’s being kind and thoughtful in helping me out of that goddamn coffin and I won’t take advantage of that. I’m not that much of a monster. Carden on the other hand just stands there with clenched fists, staring with watchful eyes. Apparently, his nightmares are more important than helping me get out. With Rafe’s help I finish crawling out and hop down inches away from the demon, dead and bleeding out onto the concrete. Not far away are the lifeless cult members. Am I repulsed? No.

Then, without looking up, “He’s settling in.” Tim looked at him. “What?” “Daniel,” Rafe said, still looking at his folder. “He’s settling in. He went out with Leo yesterday without any resistance. He’s working. He pushed back at you about the security and you told him things you don’t tell people.” He turned a page. “He’s settling in and you’re letting him.” Tim looked at him steadily. “Your point.” Rafe looked up. “My point is that Webb is moving and you have pushed two important meetings and you spent thirty seconds looking at a mood board on someone’s laptop yesterday.” He held Tim’s gaze. “That’s my point.”

As awful as the quality is, there's a dead-on shot of my face right before Rafe leaps into action. The question, then, is who will see this? Is this juicy enough for any of the celebrity gossip blogs to pick up? Or for people who work in this industry to seek out? Rafe has a reputation for being a player. And as far as I know, he isn't cheating on anyone. He probably shouldn't have grabbed the guy with the cell phone, but it's not like he was arrested for assault. I'm thinking - hoping - that this is just ordinary enough to pass under the radar. Everyone is focused on Luca and Dante right now because of Cataclysm: Earth.

"I'm Beckett Group's best connection in Solana City. In fact, I've secured a document for a cultural city project set to begin bidding in three years. I promise it'll be yours. You have my word!" "Three years?" Justin's voice dripped with mock gratitude. "How kind of you. But before you decide, let me show you something." Justin tapped his phone, sending a video. Moments later, Rafe's sharp intake of breath was audible through the call. His voice quivered with both fear and rage. "You… You set me up? How could you?" The video showed Rafe, naked and debauched on a couch, flanked by two unclothed women. If this got out, he'd be ruined.

Somewhere in the city, Rafe McCracken walked into Blackridge Gym like he owned the place. His eyes quickly scanned and found Trina Festerfield near the mirrored wall lifting small weight, dressed in a sleek designer workout gear.He had followed her there. Perfect. He walked past her. Then bumped her shoulder. “Oh—sorry,” he said smoothly. Trina turned, irritation flashing in her eyes. Then recognition hit. “Rafe McCracken.” Her tone was cold. “What are you doing here?” “Working out,” he replied easily. Trina scoffed. “You lost your company and your sister to Damien Blackwell. I’d think you’d be hiding somewhere.”

Fog and smoke blurred the world; through the lens, Kael was a sharp, lethal figure moving through it, dragging other men back behind cover, firing, shouting orders. “Still got it,” Rafe muttered around the cigarette clamped between his teeth. He tracked Kael’s path with the barrel, following the line of his shoulders, the way he adjusted to each new threat without breaking stride. “Don’t get cute,” a voice crackled in Rafe’s earpiece—one of his own crew. “We’re not here to take the shot.” “I know why we’re here,” Rafe said. “Just checking the merchandise.” He flicked the safety on and off once, a pointless, dangerous little habit, before settling it firmly back to safe.

She rolled her eyes, but there was something deeply satisfying about the way he held her, like she belonged nowhere else but by his side. Just then, a familiar voice called out, “Kieran.” They turned to see Rafe approaching from a hallway that branched off toward what looked like offices. He was dressed casually, but there was always a grounded intensity to him that made Aria feel like he was always planning something in the background. “Do you have a minute later?” Rafe asked. “I want to go over the route to the Ashfall territory before we head out.” “Yeah,” Kieran nodded. “Give me twenty minutes, I’m just heading back to shower, and I’ll be right back.”

“Dave knows everyone here, but this is Rachel, Saoirse’s girl, and the ones with gray eyes are the Graycort family I’ve told you about. Ray, Sarina, Kamron, and my lovely Kimia. Then the birthday girl is Kam’s girlfriend, and general shifter, Rose.” “I have never met a general shifter before. Pleasure,” Rafe charmed. I could tell that Rina, Rose, and Kimi were intrigued by the blond bloodsucker. He’d do this at the bar all the time. Hell, even Rachel was giving him some friendly looks. “Guys, this is my dad, Rafe Sanguinario. He’s a vampire,” Dave said, and he sounded a bit proud. Kam grinned at Dave. “Yeah, you totally take after your mother.”

Rafe was on his knees in front of the TV. His work pants were open, thick cock in his hand, stroking slowly. On the TV screen — which I must have accidentally left on that morning — was a loud, pure gay p**n. Two muscular men were going at it. One was bent over the couch while the other pounded him mercilessly, the bottom moaning like a whore, “Fuck me harder, breed my hole!” Rafe’s eyes were half-lidded in pleasure, lips parted, completely lost in the video. His big hand moved up and down his impressive cock — easily eight and a half thick inches, veined, with a fat, leaking head.

The circle was going to force my power out, and I would pass the trial, and Caleb would kill him. Rafe’s eyes were blazing, he was straining against the rogues holding him, the bond strained and muffled, suddenly screamed with a single, clear emotion from him. Not fear for himself. Pride. And then, a command, not through the bond, but through the sheer force of his will, his lips forming the words across the distance. “LET GO.” He didn’t want me to fail for him. He wanted me to fight. The moonbeam hit my boots.