Page 20 of Shark’s Pride

“All—All right,” I finally spluttered. “Your point is solid…”

“Oh, no.” As he drawled it, he slid his hands down the backs of my arms. He stopped when he was gripping me by the elbows, a perfect point of leverage for him to fit my lower body tighter to his. “You have yet to know what ‘solid’ feels like from me, Red.”

I took in a ragged breath, head spinning as much from his proximity as his promising words.

“Can we talk? I won’t keep you too long.”

“Of course.” He allowed air to pass between our bodies again, though he clearly wasn’t happy about it. It actually appeared physically painful for him to move away. I was beginning to empathize with the sensation.

But the speech I’d rehearsed during my drive was nothing but dust on my tongue. The muteness was worse when I witnessed a tic in his jaw. Above that, his eyes glimmered with brighter emotion…maybe even a strange uncertainty.

“Abbigail.”

And now, with his normal husk replaced by a pleading rasp, it was all I could do to stay upright, let alone form words. At least I had a perfect excuse to grab for him again, seeking balance for my precarious senses. I was a damn hussy about it too, stroking up the burnished skin of his torso, reveling in the rippled muscle beneath my fingers, before murmuring, “I…I got the peonies,” I finally managed. “All of them.”

“You drove all the way out here to tell me that?”

I lifted a little smile. Well, tried to. But the intensity of his stare made it barely possible to breathe, let alone twist air into new words. “I— Well, they’re gorgeous. My place smells heavenly now.”

He angled up one of his decadent dark brows. “No longer a funeral home?”

“Hmmm. Maybe a little. But not a lot.” My smirk felt more authentic now. It boosted my confidence to stretch up and kiss him. Just on the cheek with chaste brevity before muttering respectfully, “Thank you. So much.”

His demeanor changed once more. The anxiousness wasn’t gone, though an invisible burden on his frame seemed to lift. Hints of warmth crossed his face, blooming to full heat when they permeated me. The balmy summer night suddenly felt like a sauna, and I was more than ready to sweat it out with this man.

Christ. Was this how it would always be with Sebastian? This sense of the world burning away but never feeling better? With more and more certainty, I knew it was what I wanted—especially when he inched so close again, bending his whole upper body to stare into my eyes. His bright blue eyes were so incandescent in the moonlight, our passion seemed to flare with enough wattage to light up the city far below this windy hilltop.

“You like them better than the roses.”

He spoke it as fact, in his arrogant baritone, making me smile and worship him a little more. Sometimes he was a router saw, able to carve out the truth of a person with dangerous dexterity. And why did that turn me on?

“Peonies were my mom’s favorite,” I finally whispered.

“That’s not what I said,” he growled.

My heart rate sped. My blood sizzled with a million little sparks of energy. “Yes,” I admitted. “I like them. I—I love them, actually. Much better than the roses. Truly. Thank you.”

“Good. I’m glad.” His gaze re-warmed to a rich cobalt. I should have reacted with a new swoon, but a goofy giggle bubbled up my throat instead. That had him shaking his head with a smile. “What brings you by, Abbigail?”

Because I still hadn’t really told him that part…had I?

I bought a few seconds to regroup while poking at the porch tiles with my toe. “I…I had this whole speech planned out while I drove here. I was going to march up to your door, thank you politely but sternly, of course…”

“Sternly?” He jumped in the second I stalled, breaking out the full force of his panty-melting grin.

“Yes,” I rebutted. “Sternly. While I can’t express how lovely all the gifts are, they’re also unnecessary.” Though I added a smile, I couldn’t meet his careful stare while piecing together my thoughts. This was the part I should’ve rehearsed better. “You don’t have to do those sorts of things for me, Sebastian. But you already know that.”

He sobered the grin, replacing its lines with a thoughtful look. “And if you already know that I know…” He leaned against a column, all shirtless indolent male about it. “I’m actually going to get redundant here.” And then swung over one of his lazy-but-not-really stares. “Why did you drive across the city on a Saturday night to tell me this?”

I emulated his pose, folding my arms in front of my chest. “Seemed like the point needed to be made in person.”

He barely shifted out of position. Likely because the bastard knew exactly how incredible he looked there, with the porch lantern stamping golden light patterns across his gleaming chest and the night wind playing at his dark, damp hair…

My freaking God…

“And have you accomplished that?” he finally queried. “Properly made your point?” he clarified. His voice had its perfect lilt on the rich summer wind, turning my senses into heaven but my logic into a mess.

“I’m…not sure yet,” I stammered back. “I’m having trouble organizing my thoughts, quite honestly. And—”