A shaky laugh burst from Sebastian. “Mum?”
Heart thumping, Grace shook her head. “Sensor lights.”
“Ahh, so Shelli’s not peeking at us through a crack in the curtain then?”
They both checked out the front window.
“Doesn’t look like it.” Damn, her mouth was dry.
Why aren’t we inside yet? We should be inside. Why have we both suddenly slowed down to a crawl?
“Grace?” His low murmur made her turn to him.
“Thank you for coming tonight.” The sincerity in his voice made her stomach clench. “I-I enjoyed you being there with me.”
“I enjoyed being there.” It wasn’t a lie.
“You handled yourself very well on the red carpet.” He grinned, stepping a little closer to her. “I enjoyed your response to the incredibly clichéd and superficial what-are-you-wearing question.”
Chuckling, she leaned her back against the wall beside the front door. “I suspect ‘a hand-me-down’ isn’t the normal response to that question. I think I was meant to tell them what designer.”
Damn, even in this harsh, glaring light, he looked good. So good. It shouldn’t be legal for a guy so annoying to look so good.
How much longer can you cling to that? The Sebastian in front of you now is far from annoying.
“It’s the usual protocol.” He stepped closer again, laughter in his eyes, his lips curling. “That and a pirouette. Which, I couldn’t help but notice, you refused to do.”
She rolled her eyes even as her nerve endings began to fire. “Do you know, I’ve been called out to at least ten triple-zero calls at school dances and gala balls because some girl or woman has either sprained or broken her ankle twirling around to show off her dress. You want to see what my dress looks like from the back, check me out as I walk away from you.”
He laughed, resting his hand on the wall beside her head.
She frowned up at him. “What are you laughing at?”
“Play that last little bit back in your head again.”
“Why? What did I say?”
He replaced his hand on the wall with his elbow, drawing ever closer to her. Mirth twinkled in his eyes. Once upon a time, she would have been infuriated by it.
Now, not so much.
“You just,” he said, lips curling, “invited everyone to check out your arse.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
She swallowed, mouth dry again. He was so close. And he smelled so good.
“Confession,” he murmured. “I’ve been checking out your arse for a while now. It’s a nice arse. Amazing, in fact.”
She closed her eyes and turned her head away, a strangled groan catching in her throat. “Seb, there’s no need. You don’t have to…”
“Grace.” Gentle fingers touched her chin. “Shut up and kiss me.”
She opened her eyes. Her blood roared in her ears.
“Please?”
She rose onto her tiptoes and captured his lips with hers.
He growled, a carnal and hungry sound, and then his hand was on her hip, smoothing around to the small of her back, yanking her body to his.
Liquid need pooled through her. Heat and urgency rippled over her skin. She moaned, the undeniable ridge of his arousal pressed to the curve of her sex unleashing a primal desire in her.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss as she strained to feel more of his body against hers. Her knees wobbled, her ankles doing the same.
With another growl, he pressed her back to the wall, moving his hand to her backside, slanting his mouth over hers with increasing intensity.
Holy crap, she’d never been kissed like this. Her head spun. She whimpered, demanding more even as she surrendered to it all.
She was kissing Sebastian Hart.
And it was so fucking good.
She rolled her hips, craving the pressure of his trapped erection against her body.
He groaned, grabbing her hips with two strong hands and hauling her harder to him. His tongue battled with hers, mated with it. He nipped at her lips, explored them, took possession of them.
Her knees trembled again, and she tightened her fists in his hair, starved for the taste and feel of him.
He gave it to her, his tongue and teeth and lips igniting a fire inside her, a need beyond her. Dragging his hands back down to her bottom, he squeezed her butt cheeks, kneaded them through her dress before raking one up her back, over her rib cage, to her breast. His thumb brushed the under swell before returning to her rib cage again.
Grace moaned. No. Why didn’t he…
Tearing her mouth from his, she panted, desperate for air. Desperate for his hand, his touch.
Nostrils flaring, he stared down at her, his hands growing still on her body. “Grace,” he whispered. “I…”
Without a word, she took his hand and slid it ever so slowly over her breast.
His eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat, the only movement he made, and then he captured her mouth again, his kiss almost brutal as he cupped and massaged her breast.
Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. So many nights, so many months, so many years without another person’s hands on her, without another living soul bringing her sexual pleasure. Awakened by the touch of the most unlikely man…
Sebastian brushed the pad of his thumb over the taut tip of her nipple, and she whimpered into his mouth, arched into his touch.
He dragged his lips from hers, over her chin, down to the side of her neck. She rolled her head, granting him greater access to her throat. He took it, his thumb teasing her nipple through her clothes as he nibbled a path down to her shoulder. “Oh God, Sebastian. That’s so good.”
Had she said that aloud? Or did she moan it in her head?
“So good.” Exquisite tension ribboned through her. Her breath caught in her throat. “I want…”
You to make love to me. Now.
She did. God help her, she did. So freaking much. Which was insane. And yet it was totally true. She wanted Sebastian to make love to her. She wanted him on every single level.
Sebastian.
Cupping her face in his palms, he feathered his thumbs over her bottom lip. “Grace, I think I’m—”
A dog barked. A bellicose woof directly behind them.
Grace jumped. So did Sebastian.
“Baxter,” Justin called. “Baxter, where are… Oh.”
Jaw clenching, Sebastian straightened and turned away from Grace. “Your timing sucks, Fitzpatrick.”
Justin glared.
Her cheeks turned hot. A bullet of something cold and dark buried into her chest. Guilt? Or something else? Something like…anger?
Oh God.
Justin made his way up Grace’s path, his attention fixed on Sebastian. How much had he seen? “Sorry. Baxter took off when I let him out for a leak.”
“Of course he did.” Sebastian chuckled, the noise short and blunt and more like a contemptuous grunt. “That’s what dogs do, right? Well, dogs that don’t have a strong alpha, that is.”
Justin bared his teeth in a smile, the action not even close to reaching his eyes. “Well, this big fella’s got an inbuilt instinct to protect those in an uncomfortable situation. Maybe he didn’t need to go to take a piss after all?”
That cold, dark sensation drilled deeper into Grace’s chest, mocking the warm memory of Sebastian’s kisses still on her lips. She shook her head. This is ridiculous.
She touched his wrist. “I’m going in. Thank you for tonight, Seb. It was…”
Amazing. Illuminating. Confusing.
“Fun,” she finished.
His jaw bunched. His stare searched hers, and he parted his lips, as if to say something, and then he gave a single nod. “It was. See you Sunday.”
He strode from her porch, pausing to pat Justin’s dog. Baxter panted and whipped his long tail side to side, completely ignoring Justin
who called his name twice.
“Like your dog, Fitzsanders,” Sebastian threw over his shoulder as he strode past Justin. “He’s got character.”
Throat thick, Grace waited until he climbed into his car and pulled away before turning to Justin. Thankfully, he still stood on her path. She didn’t have it in her to deal with what would happen if he climbed the steps. He’d been talking to her and coming around to her house more since Sebastian turned up at her door. It was unsettling. Even if she had considered him a possible future fixture in her life, the way he was carrying on was…off-putting.
“You look lovely tonight, Grace,” he said, struggling to keep his grip on Baxter’s collar.
Before she could reply, her front door opened. “Grace?” Shelli frowned. “Where’d Hart go?”
Thank the Lord for Shelli Holt.
Pulse pounding, Grace gave Justin a small smile. “Good night, Justin.”
She stepped inside, the distant sound of Sebastian’s Aston Martin roaring through the night flaying at her sanity.
Chapter Eight
“What was going on out there? What were you and Sebastian doing?”
“Nothing.” God, she needed a shower. A cold one. “Thank you for looking after Cody, Shelli. I’m really—”
“Nothing?” Shelli put her hands on her hips, her expression dubious. “For all that time? Nothing?”
Pulse pounding, Grace shook her head. “Yes, nothing.”
“Don’t believe you. No one stands on the front porch after a date for that long and—”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Did you have fun? Meet any celebrities?”
“Yes, and yes.”
A mischievous glint twinkled in Shelli’s eyes. “So what were you doing out there?”
“What are you? Five?”
Shelli grinned. “C’mon. Give me details.”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” she grumbled, shaking her head.
“You kissed Sebastian Hart?” Shelli gaped at her. “You kissed Sebastian Hart? Oh my God, Grace.”
Heat flooded her face, and she winced. “It’s a figure of speech.” She rolled her eyes and shoved at Shelli’s back, directing her to the door. “Stop being an idiot and let me get to bed. Thank you for looking after Cody.”
Five minutes later—five minutes filled with Shelli demanding to know what Sebastian kissed like, and Grace telling her she was deluded and a moron—Shelli was gone.
Grace checked on Cody—sound asleep in his bed, in his PJs this time, unlike when Sebastian had looked after him two nights ago—and then hit the shower.
A cold one.
She refused to let her mind replay the kiss. She refused to think about how incredible it was. How intense and amazing and bone-melting and soul-shaking. She refused to think about Sebastian at all.
She clung to that refusal as she dressed for bed, cleaned her teeth, and removed her contacts. Thank God for bad eyesight. By the time she allowed herself to look in the mirror, everything was a fuzzy blur. She didn’t want to see herself. Who knew what her face would tell her.
Climbing into bed was easy. Slipping between the sheets…not so much. Her stupid mind kept comparing the feel of cotton sliding against her bare limbs to the feel of Sebastian’s hands on her skin.
Stupid mind.
At two a.m. she gave up even trying to sleep and got out of bed. Ironing. That’s what she would do. It was very overdue. Shoving a Supernatural DVD into her player she hit play. Didn’t matter what episode, any would do to stop her thinking about Sebastian. If the Winchester brothers could just swoop into her life and vanquish the demons haunting her—demons in the guise of Sebastian and his amazing kisses, and her confusing and disarming response to him and them—that would make everything easier.
The Winchesters, however, did not swoop in. Damn fictitious TV brothers.
By the time the sun painted the eastern horizon a golden pink, she’d followed them on four adventures and none of them were to her house.
Which meant Sebastian freaking Hart was in her head the whole time.
Shit.
On the upside, the pile of clothes that needed ironing no longer existed.
Who knew Cody had so many Optimus Prime T-shirts?
At six thirty a.m., as she stood making a cup of tea in her kitchen and singing “Yellow Submarine” over and over under her breath, hoping to stave off thoughts of Sebastian, her phone beeped with a text message.
Her throat smashed straight into her throat. In the same way Sebastian was the first name to smash into her head.
“I need help,” she grumbled, stomping over to where her phone sat charging in its dock.
A rush of something tight and unsettling swept over her as she read Justin’s name on the text message.
Good morning. I’m at your front door. With coffee.
The smiley emoji accompanied the message.
Pinching at the bridge of her nose, she drew in a steadying breath. She seriously wasn’t ready for this.
But maybe you should be? Maybe Sebastian is right? Cody needs a father figure in his life. And it can’t be a billionaire film director who used to tease you, no matter how great he kisses.
With a sigh, she headed for the door. Justin smiled at her when she opened it.
“Good morning.” He held out a coffee mug. “Caffeine. Thought you might need it.”
“Thank you.” She took the mug and raised it to her nose. As stressed as she was, and whoa baby, was she stressed, there was nothing like the smell of freshly made coffee.
Even if she wanted tea right now.
Oh God, I’m in trouble.
Justin’s smile grew wider, like he was trying to keep it on his face when it wanted to go. “Did you have fun last night?”
“I did.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. His smile stayed put. Stretched farther. “I saw you on the news this morning. You looked just as stunning on television as you did in person.”
She couldn’t do this. She didn’t have it in her. Not at the moment.
“Thank you,” she said for a third time, forcing her own smile. “I’d love to chat, Justin, and normally, I’d ask you in, but I have to get Cody up for school. Sorry.”
He chuckled. “No worries at all. I’ll catch you later. You working today?”
God, talk about congenial.
“Yes.” Tell him a double shift. So he doesn’t come over this arvo.
“I might drop over when I get home from work. Cody mentioned something the other day…there’s a school project he’s having trouble with. I said I might be able to give him a hand with it.”
No, no. “I’m taking Cody to the Museum of Contemporary Art after school. There’s a superhero exhibition he wants to see. Then we’re having dinner with”—Say Sebastian. Say Sebastian—“Shelli.”
Justin chuckled again. Like his smile, it all felt strained. “No worries at all. Maybe later.”
“Maybe.”
What the hell was wrong with her?
He stepped backward, and for the first time, she realized he had a second mug of coffee in his other hand. Damn it. “So I’ll catch you later then?”
“Later.” She swallowed, lifting the coffee he’d given her a little. “Thank you again for this.”
Get inside. Get inside.
She did just that, spinning on her heel and hurrying back into her home.
“Well, that was ridiculous.” Shaking her head, she stomped back into the kitchen, coffee in hand. Damn it, now she’d have to call Shelli and let her know she was getting visitors for dinner.
“What was?”
She jumped, bit back a curse, and smiled at Cody shuffling into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. His hair stuck up all over the place. For a second, he looked so like Gary she couldn’t breathe.
“Good morning, bug.” She met him halfway, wrapped him in a one-armed hug—bloody coffee—and kissed the top of his head. “Did you sleep well?”
“Hmm. I’
m hungry.”
A wave of warmth flowed through her. As surreal as her life had become, her son had a way of bringing it back to what mattered. “You’re always hungry. What do you want for breakfast? Vegemite on toast?”
He nodded, rubbed at his eyes again, and then yawned. “I have to pee,” he mumbled, disengaging from her hug and shuffling back the way he’d come.
And normal life resumes.
Normal life resumed for exactly an hour. Arriving at work, Rory met her with a grin. “Saw you on the television this morning. Rubbing shoulders with all those famous people. What’s Chris Huntley like in real life? As hot as he is on the screen?”
“Hotter,” she growled, plucking the keys to the ambulance assigned to them for the day from his fingers. “Now shut the hell up and bring me up to speed. Is the truck ready?”
Rory laughed. And then stopped laughing when their boss strode up to them.
“I’ve got a reporter on the phone wanting to know what Sebastian Hart’s girlfriend is like as an employee.”
Grace’s stomach dropped.
“Firstly,” their boss went on, “who the hell is Sebastian Hart? Secondly, why does this reporter think you are his girlfriend, Grace? And thirdly, why the hell does he want to know what kind of worker you are?”
Rory burst out laughing again. “This is going to be an awesome day.”
The awesome day turned into a nightmare. It had nothing to do with Sebastian or her appearance at the film premiere. Neither did it have anything to do with the internet’s new fascination with her—although Rory kept her up to date with it all during the drive to every callout, filling her in on every image and question about her that appeared on Twitter and Instagram. It was a normal, nightmare of a day with callout after callout, including three car accidents, four heatstroke–induced heart attacks, and a junkie on a meth-induced rampage in a shopping center. It all kept her so busy she didn’t have time to ponder her Sebastian situation.
So she wasn’t prepared to find him waiting at her place when she arrived home, sitting on her front step with Cody beside him. Not at all.
“Hi, Mum.” Cody looked up from the notepad on his lap as she climbed out of her car. “Seb brought me home from school. How cool is that? I hate the bus.”
“That’s cool.” She flicked Sebastian an arched eyebrow. “And I so like how he called to let me know he was doing that.”
The Irredeemable Billionaire (Muse series) Page 13