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So tonight, I made sure I looked my best. I curled my hair and carefully applied my makeup. Then I called Jade to help me figure out what exactly I’d packed in my haste. It turned out, I brought my pale blue lacy dress, which perfectly matched the bra and panties Sebastian picked out earlier today.
Sebastian brings our laced hands to his mouth and kisses the back of my hand. “You look perfect.”
The soft kiss sends tingles running under my skin and brings back the memory of this morning.
Just thinking about the way Sebastian kissed me in that changing room has my tummy quivering with need. The way that man affected me shouldn’t be legal. I never thought I’d feel this way. This cherished. Thiswanted. It was all I ever craved, and I couldn’t believe it was mine. Thathewas mine.
Click-click-click.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Sebastian growls, his voice hushed.
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to do all the wicked things coursing through my mind.”
I press my thighs together. My tongue darts out, sliding over my lower lip.
“Birdy…”
My lips tilt upward at the pain hiding behind that one word. “What?”
His body brushes against mine as he moves closer. “You’re making this really, reallyhard.”
Yes, I could feel exactly how hard we were talking about.
“Get your head out of the gutter, mister. We have a dinner to get to. Your mother is waiting for us.”
This time when he groans, there is nothing sexy about it. “And my boner’s gone.”
I can’t help myself. I start laughing.
“You just laugh at me, missy. We’ll see who’s the one laughing later tonight.”
“Promises, promises,” I singsong cheerfully.
“Oh, I plan to keep them. Now, let’s go inside before I change my mind.”
With my hand in his, I give Henry the command.
Sebastian’s fingers give mine a reassuring squeeze as the door opens.
“Good evening, Mr. Black,” an unfamiliar male voice says.
“Evening, Mr. Chandler. We’re meeting with my mother, but knowing her, she’s probably already here, so…” Sebastian greets but doesn’t bother to stop. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when that man gets something in his head. There is no slowing him down.
What surprises me is that he knows the host by name. Like seriously, who does that?
People who visit said restaurant, Penny,a voice in my head chastises.Often.
“Mr. Black!” the host yells, making the hairs at my nape stand on end, my mouth going dry. I know that tone of voice. I know the words that’ll come out of his mouth before he even says them. I’ve heard it on a dozen different occasions.
Please, not now.
But of course, they come. They always do.
“Your guest can’t go in there.”
My eyes fall shut for a moment, and I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling the color flood my face as the embarrassment slams into me.
