I shake my head. He steps forward and grabs my hand and shrugs. “Then it looks like we’re sharing.”
He’s pulling me toward my bedroom. Roy, my cat, stares at us with judgment as we pass him where he’s sprawled on the back of the couch. I give him a glare right back. Maybe if I hadn’t gotten him fixed, he wouldn’t be so judgey.
Once in the bedroom, Sebastian flips on the lamp on my night table and promptly pulls his shirt over his head. I openly gape at him. His chest is beautiful. That soft, sexy smattering of chest hair and smooth skin spread tight over his rippled stomach and wide, muscled shoulders and back. Flawless except for a scar on his right shoulder. He must have had surgery for an injury. Even though he was shirtless in the river earlier, I couldn’t see him clearly. And in the laundry room when we were half clothed everything happened so quickly it was a blur. Tonight I intend to blatantly drink in every ounce of him so I can remember it in case it doesn’t happen again.
“What?” he asks innocently as I try to avoid drooling. “I don’t sleep in a shirt.”
He playfully tosses it at me. It hits me in the chest and I catch it. An idea comes to life in my evil little head. I yank down my dress and let it pool at my feet. I’ve still got my bathing suit on but it doesn’t stop him from raking his eyes very slowly and heavily over my body. I pretend not to notice, but I feel a tingle that sweeps my body with the path of his cobalt blue eyes. I pull his shirt over my head and slip my arms through the sleeves.
“Idosleep in a shirt,” I say and smile triumphantly.
He’s amused. I can tell by his smirk, but he cocks an eyebrow. “And a bathing suit?”
I reach under the shirt, twist my hands behind my back and undo my bandeau top. It falls to the floor. Then, carefully, making sure the shirt covers all the parts facing him, I wiggle out of the bottoms. He’s watching me intently and undoing his shorts at the same time. I gaze at him a moment longer than I should, drinking in how fantastically sculpted his upper body is and that sexy inverted triangle of muscles that leads below his navel and around his hips. My mouth actually waters.
He drops his shorts and doesn’t even begin to hide the bulge I can clearly see in his black boxer briefs. I act like I don’t see it—I should win a fucking Academy Award—and then I turn to my dresser and pull out a pair of my undies to slip on. I pick a pretty pale pink lace pair that are for going out, not sleeping. But in this case, I will make an exception.
I turn back to him, placing my butt against the dresser so when I bend to slip the panties on he doesn’t get an eyeful. But when I glance up, it’s me who gets an eyeful. Sebastian is now completely naked. My mouth hangs open and I stand up, panties hanging, forgotten, from my hand.
“I sleep naked.” He shrugs, smiling, completely immodest.
“Frenchie…” I whisper his nickname so softly I don’t know if he hears it. I swallow and say in a louder, steadier voice, “You’re not going to be sleeping tonight.”
And there it is. I chose instant gratification—and the consequences be damned. I drop my panties on the ground and start toward him, climbing on top of my platform bed on my knees. He does the same and meets me in the middle of the mattress. His hands reach for the bottom of his shirt I’m wearing and slowly, gently, he pulls it up over my head.
“Then you won’t be needing this,” he whispers before dipping his head, cupping my jaw and connecting our lips.
Suddenly it’s like we’re in a race and someone shot the starting gun. We attack each other. My hands fly up into that glorious hair—it’s as soft and thick as I remember. Sebastian’s arms wrap around my back, and he grabs two big fistfuls of my bare ass. Our tongues are battling too, our lips fused together.
Our bodies are pressed flat against each other from the knees up and Sebastian’s hard cock is pressing firmly into my abdomen; I fight the urge to whimper. I take one hand from his hair, move it between us, and wrap my fingers around his cock. His body tightens and relaxes in a nanosecond, as he pushes his hips into me, moving his erection in my grip.
“Shay…I want you so fucking bad.” There’s no snark or attitude, just lust deepening his voice. “Last time blew my fucking mind. I get hard every time I think about it. And I think about it a lot. You do too. Admit it.”
I make a noise. It’s supposed to be ayes,but it’s more of a moan because his hands have left my ass and are cupping my breasts. His strong fingers are tugging and rolling my nipples and it’s creating ripples of pleasure that are rolling down my spine and pooling between my legs. I work my hand around his cock. It’s just as long and thick as I remember. And I can’t wait to feel overwhelmed and almost split in half like I did in the laundry room. My pressure is firm but gentle, and I rub my thumb over his leaking tip on every pass, which causes him to push into me harder each time. One of his hands moves up to the base of my neck and the other one moves south, over my pubic bone and down. His index finger travels right down the middle of the cleft between my legs.
He smiles into the kiss. “You missed me too.”
“Maybe.” I nip his collarbone.
He moves his hand from the wetness he discovered and wraps it around my back, pressing me right up against him and forcing my hand to abandon its work. With a quickness I don’t anticipate and his strength, which I always underestimate, he flips me down onto the mattress. I’m midsqueal when his tongue takes up residence in my mouth again.
He’s got one thigh between my legs, his hands pressed into the bed on either side of my head. I wrap my hands back into that gorgeous fucking hair of his as he uses his arms to drag his body upward, his muscular thigh grinding against my sex on its way up.
I will not groan. Not first. No way.
My hands slip down his back, nails grazing lightly over his flesh, until they reach his ass and then I grab on—hard. His mouth covers mine again and I pull him upward, causing his thigh to rub my aching pussy once again. He smiles into the kiss so I bite his bottom lip.
“Admit it…you want a repeat of that night as badly as I do,” he says and dips his head, using his tongue to make a trail up my neck and toward my ear.
“Please say you have one of those Magnums you bragged about.”
He lifts his head and then his body again. That rock-hard, beautiful thigh makes glorious contact against my clit again and this time I buck my hips to keep the friction going as long and hard as I can. I move my hand back down to his cock and wrap my fingers around it again. This time I use my other hand to cup his balls, and when I pump his dick I squeeze “the boys.” His sky blue eyes actually roll back in his head. I grin triumphantly and do it again. And again.
Chapter 12
Sebastian
I will not be the first to moan. No fucking way. She is the type of girl who will never let me live it down.
