He grins at me proudly, and I assess him. His brown hair is trimmed short on the sides, with just a little length on the top. It’s the same haircut he had in high school, but he seems to have grown into it more. Little dimples are on either side of his smile, and that stupid thought about wanting to lick whipped cream from them I had as a teenager slips back, and I mentally slap myself.
Sebastian Hayes does not deserve you lusting after him, Annalise. Get your shit together.
I blink my ridiculous thoughts away and say, “Okay, not as pissed, but I want s’mores for lunch.”
I swear I feel relief radiate off him as he stands and claps his hands together.
“I guess that means a fire.”
He grabs wood off the porch before returning and building a fire. I watch his every move, my eyes not seeming to be able to look away from each flex of his hand or forearm. Sebastian has only gotten better with age, and it’s a fucking shame, because I’m sure he’s hot as hell without his clothes on, but it’s something I’ll never know. That thought makes me want to pout, but I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to stop myself from doing something stupid.
When he gets the fire lit, he takes in his handy work before joining me on the couch. “Let’s let it warm up, and then I’m going to make you the best damn s’more you’ve ever had.”
I turn to look at him. “Are you trying to say you make better s’mores than me? I highly doubt that.”
He smirks. “I’m gonna say it again, best s’more you’ve ever had.”
I quirk a brow. “Challenge accepted. Now what do I get when I prove you wrong?”
SIX
SEBASTIAN
The wordsmy face buried between your thighsare on the tip of my tongue, although I’m not sure who that’d be a bigger reward for, her or me.
I bite the words down, trying to ignore the way she drags her tongue across her bottom lip as she stares at me, instead asking, “What do you want?”
She stares at me, her eyes darting between mine as she ponders my question. “You’ve been nice to me, so I’m not going to send you streaking in the snow,” she muses, and there’s no fighting the way the corner of my mouth pulls up.
“Lise, if you want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask.” My voice may sound teasing, but I’m so unbelievably serious. If Annalise Reid sat here and said she wanted to see me naked, I’d be ripping my clothes off faster than ever before.
She tries to act affronted, but the way the tips of her ears turn pink as her blush spreads from her cheeks outwards, up her face and down her neck, gives away that I’ve at least gotten to her. I’m sure her blush spreads across her chest, but her pesky hoodie prevents me from seeing more.
“Making you streak through the snow wouldn’t be about seeing you naked. Rather, putting you through immense discomfort, but I’m not a total bitch, so I’m not going to do that.”
The phrase “total bitch,” implying that she is partially one, grates at me. Annalise is the farthest thing from that. She may be outspoken and sassy and unafraid to stand up for herself, but she’s kind and thoughtful and would help anyone in need.
“You’re not a bitch, Lise.”
She stiffens slightly at the comment before she brushes it off as though I said nothing.
“I know what I want,” she finally says.
I motion for her to continue.
“I want to be pampered until you leave. You’ll be in charge of making the food and keeping the fire up.”
“Such a big ask over some s’mores.”
I debate losing just so I can pamper her. She doesn’t even need to ask for it. I’d gladly make sure she’s comfortable and enjoys her getaway here.
“I take my s’mores very seriously, Sebastian.”
The seriousness of her expression is adorable.
“And what do I get if I win?” I ask.
She sobers and tilts her head as she studies me. “What do you want?”
