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The taste of him was sweet, the hint of peppermint refreshing. He swept his tongue back and forth, his actions becoming more possessive. When he slipped his hand further down, cupping my buttocks, I was reminded instantly of the harsh spanking. I wiggled in his hold, only managing to drive his cock into my stomach.
I found myself crazed with desire, but the longing and ramifications were too much to deal with right now. Somehow, I managed to find the courage to push him away, breaking the powerful connection. “I can’t do this, Sebastian. My life is full of complications and you can’t be one of them. Besides, we’re from two different walks of life. You’re caviar and lobster while I’m peanuts and beer.” The words sounded emotionless even though my stomach was churning, the hard thudding of my heart something he had to hear.
“You’re selling yourself short, Big Red.”
“No, I’m just realistic. What we shared was amazing, but it didn’t mean anything to me. Or to you.” The best thing to do was to make him think I couldn’t stand him when after spending time with him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But what I was doing was the right thing to do. James would only use him against me, twisting it around as if I was a whore. I couldn’t risk it.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes. Very much so.” I tried to convey that way I felt by returning to my nonchalant tone when the ache inside was already forming. It was silly of me to consider Sebastian as anything but a fling anyway, especially when we’d just met.
And he’d saved my life.
And made me feel like a beautiful woman.
And touched me with so much passion.
No. I had to stop it right now.
He backed away, breaking the connection entirely. “I understand.”
I wasn’t certain he did, but that couldn’t matter. “We should be getting back. I can’t let Britta stay by herself.”
“Of course. Let’s go. Besides, I have some work to do, decisions to make. I’ll be out of your life as soon as possible.” When he walked toward the horses, I exhaled a ragged breath.
He was supposed to be nothing more than a one-night stand, another way of losing myself in something that would take my mind off life.
Why was it that he made me hunger for more?
CHAPTER 16
Sebastian
Jessie’s silence had a deafening effect.
She’d done her best to shut me out and if it had been any other woman, I’d have chalked it up to their issue, not mine, but she was hiding.
Not only from me but from herself.
The signs were classic and that pissed me off.
I’d never been one to ask about or care about what difficulties people were going through. I’d been taught that weaknesses could be used, that winning any contract was like a game of chess. You had to study your opponent carefully, the main mission to discover that weakness then formulate a plan of use.
I’d become damn good at it early in my life, mostly because my father had accepted nothing less. His punishments had always been harsh, both Jackson and I on the receiving end of his belt for the smallest infraction, but as we’d gotten older, he’d used his fist, which is another reason our mother had left.
I could easily tell what Jessie had experienced was representative of the classic signs of abuse. She was doing everything to hide the pain and scars from everyone. Just like my mother had done. I’d heard every creative excuse my mother had doled out. I think by the end she’d started to believe them. But the sadness in her eyes had never gone away, the haunted look one that had kept the nightmares alive for years after she’d left.
The look in Jessie’s eyes was the same, although she’d managed to hide it well at first, using her anger to keep her from expressing both her sadness and her obvious fear. Emotional or physical I wasn’t certain of but both were horrific. And disgusting.
I’d learned the hard way that you didn’t ask a battered woman what had occurred. The pressure and fear were too great, the shellshock of what they’d experienced preventing them from expressing anything or trusting anyone. By all rights, I should walk away from Jessie because I certainly wasn’t a good man by anyone’s standards. I’d told myself more than once that if I were to become a father, I’d be just like mine. For some reason, spending time with her had allowed me to see that all I’d been doing was running away even though I’d stayed in Miami.
No long-term relationships. No women with children, the baggage something I hadn’t been willing to accept.
She’d all but shut down after the kiss, doing her best to keep both me and her desire out. Sighing, as I pulled beside her truck, I tried to find the right words to allow her to believe she was safe being around me, but what truth was there to that? At this point, the best option was to sell the place and move on. This wasn’t my world. I was a city slicker.
Yet I wanted nothing more than to hunt down the bastard who’d dared drive away her spunk and love of life, abusing her in whatever method he’d believed was his God-given right, and snap his neck in two. That would only prove to drive her further away or worse, give the man an excuse for hurting her even more than what she’d already gone through.
How did I know?
