by Julia Wolf
“I won’t tell you how many outfits I tried on. That isn’t sexy at all.”
He led me down the driveway with his arm banded about my waist like he was scared I’d get lost or make a run for it before we reached the house. He kept his hold on me inside too, taking me to a formal dining room that had to be big enough to seat at least thirty people.
Sara bustled into the room carrying a glass of white wine, a wide grin on her red-painted lips. “Oh, Grace. I can’t tell you how absolutely beside myself I am that you’re here.” She gave me a one-armed hug, and when our eyes met, hers were glassy and had a faraway quality. Like she was here, but not fully.
Maybe I was wrong. She might have just been tipsy.
“Thank you for having me.” I gestured around to the grand space. “This is just...I don’t really have words.”
“Over-the-top? Gaudy?” Sebastian muttered.
Sara slapped his shoulder. “Seb has a lot of interior design opinions for someone who barely spends any time above ground. We let you decorate your lair however you want, even though you know how twitchy Bradley gets just knowing about the graffiti on your walls.”
“Has he seen it?” I asked. “Just because it’s made with a can of spray paint doesn’t mean it’s not art. Sebastian’s work is immaculate.”
“Well…” Sara’s full lips curved with pleasure even as her eyes barely focused on me, “you’ve put me in my place, Grace. I’m glad my brother has someone like you on his side. And you’re right. He’s crazy talented. He always has been. I’m jealous. I wasn’t born with even a scrap of it.”
She nodded to herself, then floated away to the bank of windows at the other side of the room, peering out. “It looks like rain,” she said softly.
I looked at Sebastian, finding his gaze already on me. “It’s okay. She’s like this.” He didn’t bother to lower his voice, and Sara didn’t seem to notice he was talking about her.
A man who I had to assume was Bradley strode into the room, his attention on his phone for a moment before he slipped it in his pocket and raised his head. He zeroed in on me in an instant and came forward with his hand extended.
“You must be the lovely Grace I’ve been hearing about nonstop for the past week.” He gripped my hand and shook firmly. Up close, he could have been Nate Bergen twenty years in the future. Classically handsome, but his bright blue eyes were cold beneath the shiny surface. “I’m Bradley, as I’m sure you know already. Welcome to my home.”
Not “our.” Mine. We’d just met, and he already had two strikes against him.
“Thank you for having me, and yes, I’m Grace Patel. Your home is stunning.”
“That’s entirely due to Sara. She has the eye for decorating.” Despite giving credit to his wife, he preened at my compliment.
Fortunately, small talk didn’t last long. Dinner was served promptly at six. We were seated at one end of the football field of a dining table, with Bradley at the head, Sara and me on either side of him, and Sebastian next to me.
We weren’t touching, but I felt the tension rolling off Bash in waves. I had no idea if he was normally like this around Bradley, but if it was because of my presence, then I regretted agreeing to come.
“Grace Patel…” Bradley wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin, “that’s an Indian name, right?”
“Yes. My father’s parents were from India.”
He nodded. “Interesting. Do you plan on going into engineering or computer science?”
Sara hissed, but she didn’t speak up. She’d barely said anything since Bradley had come into the room. Sebastian’s leg jiggled under the table so hard, his silverware rattled. I gripped his knee as I flashed Bradley a smile when I really wanted to stab his racist ass with my salad fork.
“No. My dad didn’t pass any of those genes onto me. I’m an artist, but my plan is to study both art and graphic design in college. I have dreams of making a living from my sculptures, but since I’m a pragmatist, I want to have a marketable skill along with it.”
He steepled his hands under his chin, nodding along with me. “That is the kind of answer I like to hear. Too many kids walking around thinking they’re something special, then—boom! The real world upends them. My wife’s brother being one of them. Hopefully you’ll be a good influence on him.”
My wife’s brother. Ugh, this guy was worse than I had expected.
I didn’t know how to answer that, so I smiled and pushed my food around my plate. Bradley didn’t seem to mind being the only one speaking. He barreled on with more questions about my future.
“Where are you applying for school?” he asked as he chewed his steak.
“I’m staying in-state, definitely. I’m spreading my applications out since I’m counting on a scholarship. So far, I have USC, Pomona, Pepperdine, LMU, and UC Davis on my list.”
“Nice list. I have a couple others I think you should consider. I’ll have Sebastian get those to you.” His gaze narrowed on Bash. “Have you put any thought into college since your girlfriend seems to have a steady head on her shoulders?”
Sebastian was blank again, staring right back at Bradley. “I’ll go wherever Grace goes.”
I sputtered a laugh, sure he was kidding, but no one else joined me—especially not my boyfriend.
“You don’t have the grades,” Bradley replied.
“I’m aware. That’s what community college is for. I’m not stupid. I can pull the grades if I have the motivation to do it.” Sebastian’s hand covered mine on his knee. “Grace happens to be the proper motivation.”
Bradley’s face contorted like he smelled something rotten. “I highly doubt Grace wants her juvenile delinquent boyfriend following her around. Girls like her, and your sister too, like to slum when they’re young, but we all know it’s a dalliance, nothing more. They don’t marry their thug boyfriends.”
Sara stared at the ceiling, not offering one word in defense for her brother or me.
“I’m sorry, but I have to disagree with you. Sebastian isn’t a thug. Whether we’re together after high school or not has nothing to do with his upbringing or which college he can get into.” Sweetness dripped from my smile so Bradley would accept my contradiction without being offended. I’d seen my mother handle men like him at my father’s business dinners. She was a master at it. I only hoped I had half the talent.
Sebastian vibrated by my side, seemingly ready to claw out of his skin, and quite possibly take Bradley with him. I’d never known him to hold his tongue when he was angry. Yet he sat here at this table in stony silence, taking the verbal whipping Bradley doled out like he was used to it. It killed me that he probably was.
Bradley tipped his chin, eyeing me warily. “Don’t be sorry, Grace. You’re young, you’ll learn the way of the world eventually. I’m only explaining to my brother-in-law that he needs plans of his own for after high school. Following you isn’t viable.”
The funny thing was, I could picture Sebastian trailing behind me on campus, and the idea warmed my belly. I knew it wouldn’t happen, that he had no intention of following through and only said it to goad Bradley, but that didn’t stop my imagination.
Sara clapped her hands together, drawing our attention. “I just thought of something. Isn’t homecoming coming up soon?”
“It is,” I confirmed. “It’s in two weeks.”
“Do you have a dress?” she asked.
“Not yet. My friend and I are going shopping next week.”
She sighed dreamily. “You’ll have to come to the house for pictures. I can’t wait to see the two of you all dressed up. Maybe I can buy Seb a tie to match your dress.”
“Actually, I’m going with my friend to homecoming. We’re doing a girls thing and being each other’s dates.”
Sara glanced between us in horror. “Seb, no. You aren’t taking Grace to homecoming?”
His jaw clenched so tight, I feared for his teeth. “She’s going with her friend, like she told you.”
Brad
ley puffed out a breath of disdain, but he’d become more interested in the food on his plate than contributing to the conversation anymore.
“It’s not a big deal,” I promised.
“It is a big deal,” she insisted. “Seb has never had a girlfriend, so I guess he doesn’t understand it’s his responsibility to go to these things with you. You might think you don’t care now, but wait until you’re there and everyone’s in a pair.”
“We’ll talk about it,” Sebastian said.
Clarity swept over Sara for an instant. “Do the right thing, Sebastian.”
“I will,” he said.
By the time we’d had dessert, I was exhausted. I had worried Bradley would want to socialize after our meal, but he retreated to his office while Sara floated off somewhere, waving goodbye on her way.
I followed Sebastian down to the basement. Once we were there, he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and spun around on me.
“I’ll take you home,” he said.
“What? No. I don’t want to go home.” I pressed my hands to his chest, needing to ground myself in his solid strength, but he stepped away, shoving a shaking hand into his hair.
“I can’t be around you, Grace. Not with how I’m feeling. I don’t know—”
“I’m not scared of you.” I brought my hand to the side of his neck, fingering his racing pulse. “Tell me what you need. I’ll give it to you.”
His nostrils flared as his eyes became impossibly black. “What I need isn’t gentle. It’s the opposite. I need violence. I want to hurt something.”
I didn’t back down. I wouldn’t leave him this way. He’d been there for me at my worst, when I sobbed so hard all I could do was pass out to get away from the pain, and he hadn’t flinched.
I wouldn’t flinch either.
“Will you hit me?” I asked, scraping my nails along his neck.
“Never.” His hands balled at his side as though he was using all his power to keep himself from touching me. “That isn’t what I would do with you, but you need to go home.”
I shook my head. “I won’t leave, and I won’t break.” I covered his mouth with mine, biting at his lips to snap him out of his stupor and bring him back to me.
The prowling beast inside Sebastian woke with a growl. He took over our kiss, thrusting his tongue inside my mouth, conquering me, my breath, my hammering heart.
“You can’t say no, Grace. If you put me in that position, I might become the villain again. I can’t promise you I won’t.” He fisted my hair hard enough for a squeak to pass my lips.
“I won’t say no.” I meant it. He rarely went easy on me, and I knew I could take more. He’d started a fire inside me that craved danger with my pleasure. No one was more dangerous to me than Sebastian Vega, and I had never wanted anyone more.
Chapter Thirty-one
Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He slammed me into the nearest wall and gripped the backs of my thighs to lift me off the ground. He was hard, solid, grinding into me. His mouth ravaged my neck, my shoulders, any skin he could find. His teeth stung as he scraped and dug, searching for something, anything he could latch on to.
I pushed back, fought him at the same time I rubbed myself along his clothed dick. That only served to spur him on. He clawed at the bodice of my dress, but it wouldn’t give. He couldn’t get to me, and I could tell from the feral look in his eyes he was seconds from ripping it to tatters.
“The zipper. It’s in the back.”
Sebastian was beyond using words to communicate. He’d given in to his animalistic side, grunting at my instruction. He dropped me down without warning, spinning my body. My cheek pressed against the wall, his hips aligning with the valley of my ass. Rough fingers pinched the delicate zipper on the back of my dress and yanked, tearing the fabric. I didn’t care if it was ruined. I wanted it off.
His hands slid inside my dress to my breasts, kneading them hard and pinching my beaded nipples through my bra. His mouth returned to my neck and shoulders, biting and sucking so hard, I wondered if he was drawing blood. Heat pooled at my core at the very idea of it.
My dress dropped to the floor, leaving me in a strapless bra and nude thong. Nothing sexy or special, but he removed them from my body in the next instant, so it didn’t matter anyway.
He turned me to face him again, his eyes as hard as stone. “Undress me,” he ordered as he slid two fingers between my legs, then thrust inside my wet heat like he intended to break me in half.
My trembling fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt, my urgency making me sloppy. It was taking too long, my heartbeat spiking each time I fumbled a button. He was unrelenting, shoving his fingers inside me again and again as I bared his skin. I whimpered, forcing myself to keep my eyes open, concentrating on my task until I got to the very last button. I couldn’t take his shirt off, not with his hand inside me like it was, so I unbuttoned his pants, lowering the zipper over his bulge with care.
With my eyes locked on his, I shoved his boxers and pants down his hips, freeing his swollen length. I took it in my palm, sliding up and down at the same pace he was fingering me.
He stopped suddenly, withdrawing his fingers to grip my ass in one hand, my nape in the other, forcing me back until I slammed into another wall. He lifted me again, and the second we were aligned, he speared me on his cock, sinking all the way to the hilt. I was soaked for him, but he stretched me wide.
My belly clenched from the sudden intrusion. I clawed at his shoulders, fighting back out of instinct even though I didn’t want him to stop. Never ever. He could hurt me in exactly this way for the rest of my life and it would never be enough.
Bash showed me no mercy, pounding his frustration and rage into my body, and I took it. Oh, I took it, and I answered with scratches down his back and rolling hips, showing him I wouldn’t break.
I saw his dark, and I walked through it with him, reveling in how black and fractured he could be. There were pieces inside me that looked the same. Maybe that was how we ended up here, colliding like we were, after the way we started. Like recognized like.
“Look at me, Grace,” he gritted out, cupping my throat. “Don’t look away.”
I shook my head. “I won’t.”
He squeezed my throat, watching my reaction as his hips pistoned into me, driving so deep, he would have taken my breath away if I had any left. He’d cut it off, though, pushing me to the edge of panic. Only the edge. He loosened his grip, then released my throat entirely, palming my ass with both hands to carry me into his bedroom.
Dropping our joined bodies to the bed, he brought my legs over his shoulders and found a spot even deeper inside me to claim. His eyes never left mine, no matter what savage things he did to my body. That was why I wasn’t afraid. Sebastian might have been out of his mind, he might have been raging and a little demented, but he always knew it was me.
He might hurt me, but never irreparably.
A swell of emotion clogged my throat, and my core clenched around him. I came hard, screaming, tears dripping down my cheeks, writhing and desperate. For what, I couldn’t put into words, only that I couldn’t seem to get enough. Not close enough. Not enough of his skin on mine. Not enough of him.
His rhythm stuttered, then sped up, and he looked just as desperate as I felt. Buried almost to the end of me, he let everything go, pulsing his orgasm against my clenching walls.
When he finished, the look he gave me struck me like a fist to the solar plexus. It was as if he was seeing the sun for the first time after living his whole life in the dark. I couldn’t take it, not with how raw and exposed I felt everywhere, so I arched my neck up to press my mouth to his, finally closing my eyes.
Sebastian collapsed beside me, his arms wrapped around my middle, keeping me as close to him as possible, kissing me back with such tenderness, a fresh wave of tears welled behind my eyelids.
“Do you hate me?” he murmured.
I shook my head, unwilling to speak yet. I feared if I did
, I would say what I felt for him was the opposite of hate. That wasn’t a place I was capable of going. We were too new for me to even contemplate that feeling, let alone say it out loud. There was no denying I’d never felt closer to another person outside of my family and that was because there were no barriers between us. We didn’t have to pretend with each other because we already knew the ugly truth and stuck anyway.
“I didn’t think I could hate myself anymore, and yet…” He trailed his fingertips over my jaw and throat, which stung from the brutality he’d unleashed.
“If you hate yourself, then you’ll have to hate me too. I asked for this.” I tipped my chin back, making him see me. “Do you hate me?”
“Never,” he said immediately.
I trailed my fingers over the bloody lines I’d scored on his shoulders. “I hurt you too.”
His soft lips hardened into a flat line. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You didn’t do anything I couldn’t handle either.”
“Fucking Grace.” Dipping his head, he buried his face in my neck, breathing hot and hard on my skin. We lay like that for a long time, clinging to each other without speaking, then he took me into his shower and cleaned me with care before dropping to his knees and licking the wrecked flesh between my thighs until I fell apart.
I texted my mom, telling her I’d be home late. She told me I could sleep there rather than driving on the road tired as long as I came home early enough in the morning to have breakfast with her before school.
Sebastian had stretched out on his bed, propped against the headboard, while I was on the phone. I passed my phone back and forth between my hands.
“Do you mind if I sleep here?” I asked.
His brow pulled together, an angry V forming in the middle. “What kind of question is that? I would own every second of your life if I could. I’m surprised you want to stay.”
Dropping my phone onto the bedside table, I climbed onto the bed, sitting beside him against the headboard. I drew his hand into mine, threading our fingers together.