Page 19 of Shark’s Pride

“Actually…it does.”

With that resolve, I was already pulling up Sebastian’s screen on my phone while walking Rio out. By the time I hugged her and thanked her for the fifteenth time for the visit, on top of promising her I’d never go so far to emotional ground again, I had a text composed and ready to send.

After a huge inhalation, I jabbed the green arrow that would shoot the words across town to him.

The words that would turn this night into a beginning I never dreamed or an ending I’d never forget.

Hey there. Can we talk?

His text response raced my heartbeat three times faster than all his gifts combined.

I thought you’d never ask.

He’d gotten more perfunctory with the messages after that, and I could all but read the mind-set that had driven him to be that way. He was anticipating bad news and suspecting I wanted to “soften the blow” by giving him the home court advantage. And damn it, I hated making him feel that way, even for the ninety minutes it took to drive through the city and get to Calabasas.

Forcing myself to get out, I walked to the mansion’s massive front door. “Out on a limb” wasn’t far off the mark of my mood as I stood in a puddle of gold light from the ornate lantern overhead. The glow, while warm and evocative, was a useless barrier against the aural glory of the Calabasas boonies at night. Unnamed critters scuttled through the bushes. A light breeze fluttered through the cypress and eucalyptus trees. Nocturnal birds called to each other but stopped when a canine howl soared on the air, along with answering yips.

I started counting to sixty. Sebastian had one more minute to come to the door, and then I was out of here.

“Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-fi—ahhh!”

My yelp was an unthinking reaction to Bas’s fierce swing of the door. As terrorized birds burst from the trees, I had a chance to regain my breath—for about a second. Then the full sight of him registered in all my senses. And between my ribs. And at the crux of my thighs. Oh God, especially there.

“Holy. Hell.”

Yes, I rasped it out loud. No, I didn’t regret it. I dared any woman alive to have refrained from the same burst when suddenly face-to-face with the sight of Sebastian Shark in nothing but charcoal track pants, a sheen of sweat, and a stare that could drill its way through an obsidian wall.

“Uhhh…hey.” I locked my teeth while tapping a toe at the smooth travertine beneath my feet. “I—I mean hi.”

I decided to stop when he stepped all the way outside next to me. With two graceful moves, he took me from slightly unsettled to totally unbalanced. His presence was part of mine now. His scent, a mix of perspiration and the warm sweetness of his cologne, was swirled into every inhalation. He was close enough to touch. And Christ, how I wanted to touch.

“Good evening, Miss Gibson.”

His voice, pure velvet on top of raw virility, made me scoot back. Fortunately, he didn’t press forward again. “I—well, I”—get your crap together, Abbi—“am I…interrupting anything?” I congratulated myself. There was just enough volume to give the illusion of confidence. “I just invited myself up here and never thought to ask if you—well, if you—”

His gaze intensified, the midnight blue becoming luxurious cobalt. “If I what?”

I exhaled. “If you were busy or—”

“Did any of my texts give you that idea?”

He growled it this time. Fiercely. I stumbled back again. Trouble was, I did it with a lot more gusto. The motion finally had me teetering off the stone step.

Oh, shit, shit, shit.

Luckily, I didn’t end up flat on my backside—

Because the shirtless god became my salvation then too.

His reflex was a quicksilver miracle. Before I could blink, he caught me by my shoulders. I gasped as he yanked me back up, the veins in his biceps jutting from the effort. I whipped my arms out on sheer instinct, until I was digging my fingers into the mesmerizing flesh of his chest.

For long seconds, we were trapped like that.

Frozen in time. Staring deeply into one another’s eyes. Further than we ever had before.

No longer resisting. No longer denying. No longer contesting.

At last, Bas tugged me harder, molding my lower body against his. I sighed with blissful completion. He felt so perfect. More destined to be than the amber moon and summer stars overhead. More inevitable than the cosmic explosion that had sparked their existence.