And it did—for now. Two weeks of being careful, of playing it safe? I could do that. But what if this turned into more than two weeks? What if whatever this was between us grew into something more—something that lasted this time? I couldn’t picture spending years hiding, always looking over my shoulder. Of being “just friends,” constantly worried for the other shoe to drop.
I forced that thought away, filing it under “You’re getting ahead of yourself.” There was no point worrying about a future that might not happen.
“Come on,” I said, reaching my hand out. “Let me show you the rest of the house.”
“Nap first, tour later?” he asked softly. “We didn’t get much sleep last night, and I’m running on empty. I probably look like shit.”
A lock of his dark hair rested against his forehead, and his jaw was shadowed from not shaving this morning. He looked exhausted, but he was still the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
“You’re gorgeous, and you know it.” I pressed my lips to his.
I felt his mouth curve into a smile before he leaned back, his eyes creased with amusement. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” I said, waggling my eyebrows as I led him upstairs.
My bedroom took up half of the second floor. Decades ago, one of the former owners had knocked down the walls of three smaller rooms to create one giant space. The ceiling soared to the original roofline, with exposed beams crisscrossing overhead. Against the far wall was my bed.
Sebastian stopped in the doorway and let out a low whistle. “Holy shit. That’s the biggest bed I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m a big guy,” I said with a shrug. “I take my comfort seriously.”
His mouth curved into a grin, his eyes lingering on the slatted headboard a buddy’s brother had built for me. “Quite the upgrade from those beds back in our dorm. How the hell did we ever sleep in those things?”
We’d slept together nearly every night in his bed, while mine became a dumping ground for all of my clothes. It was cozy.Now, I couldn’t believe we’d ever actually gotten any sleep. We must have been too cum drunk to have cared.
He moved toward the bed to run his hand over the headboard, his fingers tracing the oak slats. “These look sturdy.” He turned to face me, his eyes molten.
I cleared my throat. “What’s that look?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“What was that you said downstairs?” I pressed, moving closer. “Something like, ‘try again, but this time with the truth.’”
“Fucker,” he said, though he was smiling. Then, his voice a touch uncertain, “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
I’d never been very good at ignoring my curiosity. “I’m listening.”
He blew out a breath and spoke quickly, like he was ripping off a bandage. “Wyatt liked to tie me up. Which I hated, because it felt like he had all the power and I was just … there. At his mercy.” His fingers flexed at his side and he stepped into my space, cupping my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “But looking at that headboard, thinking about having you at my mercy … I might understand the appeal.”
Jealousy flared hot and immediate in my gut. Picturing Sebastian tied up, putting himself in a position of vulnerability with a man like Wyatt Hastings? I fucking hated it.
But the thought of him wantingmethat way?
That did something for me that I’d definitely have to explore later.
“I’ve never done anything like that, but I’m notnotinto it, so … ” I glanced down, and his eyes followed, landing on the prominent bulge in my jeans.
“You got any ties?” he asked, marching me back against the wall, nipping hungrily at my lips.
I nodded, and a wild, nervous laugh crawled up my throat. “So many ties.”
Every year for my birthday and at Christmas, my sister gifted me a new one. Most were absolutely ridiculous, inside jokes between us that were packed away in my attic. But a handful had made it into my game-day suit-and-tie rotation.
“Where?”
I lifted my chin to gesture toward my closet.
Sebastian pulled me by the belt loop across the room, and I fumbled open the doors. He quickly yanked three of them off the hanger.
