by L. J. Wilson
“No,” he said, a breath shuddering out of him. “The girl I’d kiss like that. I didn’t know she existed. Not before you.”
Evie sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, her attention rapt. “But you have to know, I’m going to marry Ezra tomorrow. It can’t happen any other way.”
“Why do you have to marry anyone tomorrow?”
“Why?” she asked, her eyes pulsing wide. “Because… It’s what’s supposed to happen. My father and Reverend Kane, and all the Fathers of the Right. It’s unthinkable that it wouldn’t.”
Everything that wafted off Sebastian drew her in—a scent, the sound of his voice, the idea of touching him. It made her dizzy. Steady yourself… It was the only firm direction Evie heard in her head. She inched her hand forward—of its own volition—fingertips balancing on his hard chest. He didn’t move, letting Evie discover, for herself, the things she wanted to know. Her reasons for coming to the cabin muddled. But there was no reciprocal touch, not as she mapped the coarse scattering of hair on his chest, moving past the stunning line of his collar bone and wide shoulders. Manly definition caused her to stare in a way that, otherwise, might be considered rude. She forged a path on Sebastian’s body, examining… plodding… memorizing. His throat was rough—a mat of stubble that would, in another day, be a beard. The shape of his jawline was exquisite, a mix of steel and sweet invitation, a divot in his chin that softened him ever so slightly.
Finally, he reached. Not for her, but for the buttons on her blouse. As her fingertips passed over his lips, Evie slid her gaze downward. She watched the cotton fabric fall open as each button obeyed his command. She glanced farther, seeing the obvious tent of his cotton pants. She said nothing as their serious expressions tangled like briar branches. It was the only thorny warning her brain allowed. Evie absorbed what had to be Sebastian’s practiced movements—With who? Where? How many times? She pushed it away. She didn’t want to know. It only mattered that he was there with her now.
Sebastian unzipped her skirt. The garment dropped to the floor like a curtain’s reveal. She slipped out of her shoes and stepped beyond the circle surrounding her. His strong hands led Evie away, drawing her toward him. The small room grew even tighter, and a moment later they stood poised at the edge of the bed. The fire crackled, the pop and hiss making Evie twist toward it.
“Look at me.”
She did, dousing brimstone and other outcomes. Sebastian’s lips pressed into hers, his hands running over the braid of blonde hair. She watched as he slipped the elastic off the end, untwining the plaited hair as deftly as he’d undone the blouse. Evie felt her long tresses set free, shuffling around her shoulders, Sebastian moving his fingers through it. “That’s better,” he said, the heat of his mouth grazing her ear. She longed for his mouth, his kisses more infectious than she recalled, urgent as fire, calming as needed warmth. Movements became more aggressive. He abandoned Evie’s hair and drew her slip over her head. She let him. She’d never wanted anything so much.
With only the rapid beat of her heart in between them, Evie felt the clasp of her bra unhook. The action was as adept as his other skills. There was no hint of awkwardness as she slipped off the bra. Evie was absorbed in Sebastian’s lingering gaze, feeling his hands move like a dance down her near-naked body. His touch to full breasts and hard nipples made her pulse race, every inch of Evie wanting more.
It was Evie’s own desire that erased the last bit of distance. She guessed he knew better than to wait for a verbal cue. He laid them on the bed where Evie sunk into deep feathery softness. His body was a stark contrast—incredibly solid, easily overpowering if he wanted it to be. Yet she found trust to be present, whirling among the emotions he brought to the bed. The ropey muscles of his arms were a sensuous pleasure, and she dug her fingertips in as his hand reached between her legs. She gasped as he dismissed fabric, making contact—not with the place Ezra had sought out, not exactly, but higher. Evie’s breath quickened to the point of fright.
He stopped—all that power withdrawing. “Wait.” Sebastian’s stare turned to a mix of concern and confusion. “I thought you said… Evie, tell me right now if it was just a story… if you’ve never…”
The dreamy daze ebbed. She crinkled her brow. “I wasn’t lying. We… Ezra,” she said, ignoring the shame that the sound of his name produced. “We’ve had sex.” Sebastian nodded, wise enough not to pursue details. But his hand didn’t return to where it had been, and Evie wrenched at its sudden absence.
“Don’t… please don’t stop.” Boldness was, on occasion, to Evie’s benefit. And perhaps to prove her claim, she reached, undoing the button on Sebastian’s pants, then the zipper. She gripped her hand around the part of him that sprang forward. Her fingers danced over a sculpted velvety shaft—hard as stone. Every part of him was built so differently than Ezra—this too. Evie glanced fast. She said nothing, though he surely caught her startled look.
“Not, um…Not what you were expecting?” he said, kissing her again.
She smiled, shyness intervening. “I, uh…” She only shook her head. Thankfully, he didn’t ask for an explanation, closing his eyes as he pushed his hardness into the palm of her hand.
“You keep looking like that,” Sebastian said, kissing her harder, “tasting like that, touching me like…” He stopped talking, all his faculties clearly diverted. Evie let go, aware of the potential explosion of passion. It scared her—everything about Sebastian did a little, an awakening of all the things Evie wondered about.
But as she drew her hand away, connecting with a chest, hard as his maleness, Evie understood that what was about to happen had as much to do with her as it did him. Ideas connected. Sebastian skimmed off her underwear, all of him advancing with greater access. But again, the way he touched her—so intimately—it made Evie gasp—unsure of the moment, the pattern. Whatever feeling loomed, it was never a part of any encounter with Ezra.
“Evie, what’s the matter?” he said, hand pushing her thigh open wider to him. He touched her again, making Evie aware of a pronounced wetness, like the first time—although that had been blood. It was enough to make her glance down—panicked. She saw nothing but herself, his fingertips, and a satisfactory smile on his face. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”
She didn’t answer, as the question didn’t fit. In her experience, wanting this didn’t seem to have much to do with her—other than as a necessary participant. This felt so different. Yes, she wanted Sebastian to kiss her. Yes, she wanted his touch. God help her, she’d go as far as to say she needed it. But the act itself… Clearly, Evie was missing something.
His smile abated. But Sebastian moved on, speaking with his body, his fingers tracing nipples that responded to his steady touch. His mouth took over the journey, Evie finding her fingers tangled in thick waves of inky hair. She forced her legs to relax as Sebastian nudged them apart. This time a finger slid inside her. It was closer to what she’d been anticipating, though what she might have called an intrusion now seemed inviting. As he pushed deeper into her, a second time, his thumb rose, making intimate contact. It was startling and unclear. She shoved his hand away.
Sebastian stared into her eyes, as if trying to read her mind. Evie cleared her throat. “I… you can just, um… do it.”
“Do what, exactly?”
Unable to muster the words, Evie captured an erection that hadn’t eased. Sebastian succumbed to the message, swallowing hard and closing his eyes. As they fluttered open, she could see him struggling to focus.
“But don’t you want…” Sebastian’s drew a breath she could feel. His green eyes widened. “Holy shit. You’ve never…” He bowed his head, shaking it. “It figures.”
Evie rose up to her elbows. For everything that drew her to Sebastian, the swearing did not. He held up a hand. “Wait. Just, um… just trust me here.” He smiled. It was a grin that made her trepidation puddle. “Let me, um… show you something. Take you somewhere… else…” He kissed her deeply, Evie
sinking back onto the pillow. “Don’t think,” he said in between the kisses. “I promise. It’ll be all right.”
Heeding the advice, Evie indulged in the feathery lightness of touches that grew more direct. His mouth cascaded down the side of her throat, across her breasts, coaxing the storm that brewed inside her. His fingertips trickled across the flat of her belly and Evie kissed him hungrily, holding Sebastian close. She felt yet another level of safety as his chest met with hers. Evie did as he asked, trusting him.
Preciseness drove his touch as he whispered odd words in her ear—something about going or coming. But it was drowned out by a giant wave as Evie was swept into a feeling she couldn’t have fathomed. A sound emanated from her throat, a lusty gasp of pleasure. She dug her fingers harder into the muscles of his back. She wanted to claim all of him—she wholly desired the part she’d otherwise tolerated. Timing was also among Sebastian’s honed skills and he kissed Evie precisely, perfectly, as the wave passed—“a heavenly place” was all she could think.
Evie’s body trembled as she tried to right her mind. There was no clear thinking to be found—just the prospect of feeling him inside her. But Sebastian didn’t seem to be in a rush, instead cupping her face, offering the most beautiful kiss—the kind that made Evie think of fairytales and endings that were really beginnings. “There,” he said, looking triumphant. “Just so we’re clear, that’s the way it’s supposed to work.”
Inhibition intruded. Evie glanced away. But she was quickly drawn back, wanting to memorize every feature of his face. His existence seemed impossible—yet there he was, looming over her life, changing everything she knew. “And the rest…” she said, breathlessly. She tugged at his pants. Sebastian stood, shucking them aside. She was on her elbows again—his nakedness matching hers. He was incredible. It was all Evie could think as she looked up, Sebastian looking down over her. His body was beaten and chiseled, commanding and desirable. Evie sat upright, having dismissed ideas about getting it over with… only wondering how they might stay this way forever.
He reached, not to her, but inside Evie’s head. “What… what are you thinking?”
She knew of no way to verbalize feelings he evoked—something physical, but not. Something intangible that grew stronger by the second. The urge riding her, it didn’t feel unnatural, but it was uncommon. The flat of Sebastian’s stomach was even with her face—more scars, some clearly newer. She kissed them, feeling his breath quicken, startled by the tender contact. His unlikely trepidation gave her confidence and small kisses floated from his battered ribcage downward. A scent of maleness grew stronger as the shape of his body led her from a perfect vee, beyond muscular flanks, to the center of him. Evie moved her mouth and hands in a graceful motion, dropping—without thinking—onto her knees.
“Evie… Jes—” He stopped, a guttural hum pleading out instead.
She glanced up to see one arm brace against the nearby wall as his other gently guided her head.
What happened next, Evie did not know what to call it, but it clearly pleased Sebastian as the kissing advanced and much of his erection disappeared into her mouth. The coaxing movement of his hand wasn’t forceful but encouraging. His hardness grew stiffer, the salty hint of liquid hitting her tongue. She didn’t want to stop, even as he lost a bit of control—his words and grip growing more potent.
“Christ, Evie, if you keep… I…” The strain of his voice caused her to pause. She looked up into his face as his hand tenderly touched her face. “In the bed,” he said, jerking his gaze between it and her. “I… I want to make love to you in the bed. Not this way… not this time.”
She smiled. But as Evie began to rise, embracing the lovely thought, the moment snapped like a whip. The cabin door flew open. The small room was enough that Sebastian’s bare bottom—Evie on her knees—were visible from the entrance. Brother Creek’s voice penetrated through. “Oh dear God help us…”
As the first seconds passed all Sebastian thought was how this was worse than any beating he’d suffered. Evie scrambled backward, hiding from the wide open view. He stood naked, a full frontal, as Brother Creek looked on. From his stunned stance, Brother Creek seemed frozen or maybe overly focused. Steadily, Sebastian said, “You want to give us a minute?”
It had to be pure shock as Brother Creek complied, going outside the cabin.
A minute? Sebastian scrubbed a hand over his face. He needed a fucking few years. Evie was a mess, trembling so hard she couldn’t get her clothes on. She wasn’t crying—at least not outwardly—it read more like terror, almost hyperventilating. Sebastian yanked on his pants. In the meantime, she’d managed everything but the blouse. “Here, let me…” He picked the white cotton garment up from the floor and she snatched it away.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Evie,” he said softly. She struggled with the blouse, like a cat in a sack, turning it right side out, unable to steady her aim long enough to get an arm into it. “Evie, stop.” She did, her flushed face looking desperately into his. “That was bad. I get it—really bad.” Her lips looked even poutier than usual, and Sebastian had to force himself to stay on track. Shame on him—he was still distracted by the idea of kissing her. “But maybe… maybe in some crazy way it’s better that it happened.”
“Are you mad?” she said, the first tears spilling over the rims of her eyes.
“No, but after the shock wears off it might be a wakeup call. Whatever’s happening here,” he said, shifting his arm between the two of them, “it should tell you that marrying—”
“You are mad,” she decided, resuming her fight with the blouse. “Hannah, she was right. You are a devil. Brother Creek, walking in like he did, if that wasn’t a sign—”
“Listen to me.” He grabbed the blouse, demanding her attention. “It wasn’t a sign. It was horrible timing—this crazy, unreal world you live in. Don’t let them do this to you—don’t let their rules decide what you want.”
She huffed even harder, shaking her head.
“Evie, was there anything going on here, before my keeper showed up, that wasn’t your own free will? What was about to happen, what I said… Did that feel like evil?”
She blinked blankly at him.
“If that’s true, if it’s what you think—in your own head—I’ll tell Brother Creek I forced myself on you. I swear, Evie, you won’t be to blame.”
Sebastian swallowed hard at the out he’d given her. Beatings, public humiliation, his hard-ass life, he could survive any of it. The idea that he would force himself on her—it made him feel worse than the seedy life he’d led. A breath, more fraught than the last, trembled out of her. She moved a trembling hand over her throat and gathered her thick hair, hauling it over one shoulder. She was searching for a comfort zone, the familiar braid that should be there, not the out of control cascade of hair.
“But it was so…” she said. “How will I ever…”
Sebastian took a chance and pulled her to him. Evie didn’t resist. She held on tightly, skin to skin. Sebastian felt pure terror pulsing off her. An equally nervous breath shuddered out of him, but for an entirely different reason. Whatever was rolling through him, because of her, he’d never felt that for another human being. “I know,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “What just happened, I’m sure we scored a new high for Good Hope’s top-ten commandments not to break.”
In between the tremors, Evie dug her fingers in tight as if searching for solid ground.
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll explain—”
“Explain how?” she said in a pitchy whisper. But as Evie spoke her arms moved tighter around him. “You’re going to provide a reasonable explanation as to why I was naked, with the mission, the day before I’m to marry the Reverend’s son?” She inched back, her face streaked with tears. She had a point. “How will you ever make this right?” Evie cupped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, dear Lord, Brother Creek, he’s probably already gone to tell the Reverend or Ezra.” She started for th
e door.
“Evie, wait!” He rushed past her, peering out the window. “No. He’s there, just pacing. Maybe the shock made him forget how to get to the main street.” Sebastian turned, looking at Evie, who stood beside the fireplace. The flickering light washed her in an innocent glow, and Sebastian was nearly crushed by a wave of guilt.
If his sorry ass hadn’t landed in their world, Evie would marry Ezra Kane tomorrow, convinced she was happy and fulfilled in this strange life. Sebastian approached, not saying anything. Instead he mechanically helped her into the blouse. She let him. He tried to read her mind, but his own was too overwrought. What was the best way out of this? Evie had watched as he unbuttoned the blouse. She watched now as he re-buttoned it. Sebastian forced calm, going steadily at the task. But confidence didn’t help. It was no good as her tears splashed onto his hand. “I promise you, Evie. I will make this right.”
“Short of rendering Brother Creek mute, I don’t see how.”
Their gazes met and a rush of anger coursed through Sebastian. No one should have this kind of power over her. Glassy tears reflected the firelight, reflecting him.
“You don’t understand,” she said. “Where you come from, maybe this would be horrible timing. Here it’s… It’s beyond unthinkable—What I was doing, me on my knees… I don’t expect I’d do such a thing with Ezra.”
And Sebastian had to bite down on the inside of his cheek. All right, so that was another first for her… But it also forced him to pay attention to the rules of this stunted way of life: conduct, virtue, and the very thoughts in your head. All of it was subject to judgment, making what happened tantamount to treason. He furrowed his brow. And that wouldn’t be exclusive to getting caught naked with the opposite sex… Sebastian glanced over his shoulder. “Evie, listen to me. Right now, no one knows but Brother Creek. Maybe we can keep it that way.”