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  I found Sebastian in line at the bar, fending off the advances of a drunk Cassie Callahan, our prom queen and head cheerleader. Fierce, territorial desire for him ignited inside me. “Ready to go? I need a ride home.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You don’t want your wine?”

  “No. I’m done.” Without a word to anyone else, I took Sebastian’s hand and pulled him through the crowd, well aware of the stares we got. At the coat check, Sebastian held my coat for me and I slipped into it, then he tipped the woman two dollars before taking my hand again. My heart was pounding as we descended the stairs, and I had the desperate urge to kiss him, to wrap my arms and legs around him, to cover his body with mine and protect him—which was ridiculous. I was half a foot shorter than he was, even in my heels. And he was a grown, gorgeous, strong man, not the misunderstood child he’d been…but still. Something inside me just wanted to get him alone and hold him, whisper to him, take him inside me and make him feel good. He’d come here for me, even though he hadn’t wanted to. Even though he’d known how people would gossip and wonder.

  We didn’t speak until we got outside on the empty sidewalk. “Fucking hell,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as we turned the corner. His truck was parked on the street a few cars down. “How did you stand it in there that long?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead I moved in front of him and threw my arms around his neck, kissing him hard, my feet coming right off the ground. His arms looped around my back

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” I whispered against his lips.

  “I came for you.”

  Gratitude made my body tingle, but I wanted more. “Why?”

  “Because I’m sorry.” He set me on my feet and looked me in the eye. “Because it wasn’t just about sex, and I treated you like it was. I was wrong.” Lowering his lips to mine, he kissed me before whispering in my ear, “Give me another chance. Please.”

  “Oh, God, Sebastian.”Taking his face in my hands, I rose up on tip toe and looked up at him. “I don’t even feel like I have a choice. I want you too much.”

  He exhaled, his breath warm on my mouth. “Come home with me. Stay the night.”

  I kissed his lips. “Yes.” The side of his jaw. “Yes.” The base of his throat. “Yes.”

  Twenty-Three

  Sebastian

  Somehow I managed to drive home, although I don’t know how, since the moment I turned the key in the ignition, Skylar unbuckled my belt, undid my pants, and stuck her hand inside my boxers.

  “Move your seat back,” she said, pulling my cock out and slipping it through her fingers.

  I did as she requested, looking around to make sure no cops were in sight.

  “Now drive,” she demanded. “Or I’ll stop.”

  Groaning, I put the truck in drive and tried to concentrate on the lines and lights and signs and traffic rather than on her hand working up and down my shaft, or her thumb circling the head, or the way she watched what she was doing, a little moan escaping her mouth. And speaking of her mouth.

  When I turned onto the dark, quiet highway on the peninsula, she unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned toward me. “Careful now,” she whispered. Before I could stop her, she fluffed her hair back behind her shoulders, fisted my dick, and put her head in my lap. The next thing I felt was her tongue swirling around the tip of my cock like it was an ice cream cone and she didn’t want to waste a single drop. Oh fuck, oh fuck, now I was picturing her with my cum dripping off those round pink lips like melting vanilla ice cream.

  I garbled something unintelligent, but what I meant to say was, I can’t drive, I can’t drive. It got even worse—better?—when she took just the head in her mouth and sucked, first gently and then hard, her fingers closing tight around the base.

  My leg muscles tightened up. “Jesus, Skylar. Easy.” I tried to relax my lower body muscles, which wanted to flex and thrust and push deeper into her mouth.

  She took her lips from me with a little pop and giggled. “No, it’s hard. And I think it’s getting harder.”

  “Oh, fuck. Fuuuuuuuck,” I moaned as she slid her lips down to her fingers, enveloping my cock in hot, wet heaven. She kept it there, half in her mouth, half in her hand and worked it from both ends, jerking and sucking until I was positive I was going to lose control of my truck, my orgasm, and my sanity.

  “Mmmmm.” She lifted her head again. “I can taste you,” she whispered. “I love it.”

  My jaw ticked. “You are a very bad girl.”

  “I know.” She rubbed the tip in circles against the flat of her tongue, and I cursed again, making her laugh.

  God, that laugh. I’d never grow tired of it. And then I made the mistake of glancing down at that blond hair. I’d seen her from behind tonight, the moment I stepped into the room. I’d hated every step of the walk to get to her, feeling the eyes of everyone there on me, but I’d kept my focus on that hair and those curves in her tight black dress and those alabaster legs that had been wrapped around my body just a few nights ago. When I’d gotten close enough to see her shoes, blood rushed to my groin at the sight of the bows tied above the high heels.

  I’d gone there to apologize, to show her I wanted to be there for her, to make an effort at being the kind of person she deserved—and then all I could think about was fucking her with her shoes on.

  If I could hold out.

  “Wait,” I begged her as I felt myself nearing the point of no return. We were getting close to the cabin, although I could hardly feel my foot on the pedal. “I don’t want to come yet. Just wait.”

  “Not. Waiting,” said the little vixen, taking me all the way in. My cock hit the back of her throat and my legs seized up.

  Fuck, I have to pull over. Veering to the shoulder, I braked hard and came to an abrupt stop, my breath coming fast, my heart pounding inside my chest. Please don’t let a cop come by here tonight—at least not for the next thirty seconds, which was all I’d have before—

  “Jesus. Skylar.” Turning off the ignition and the lights, I grabbed her hair, gathering it in my fists.

  “Yes,” she whispered, yanking me hard and tight and fast with her hand. I could feel her breath on my cock, teasing me, and it made me want to tease her a little.

  I tightened my fingers in her hair, not pulling too hard, but not letting her get her mouth back on me either.

  She gasped. “Oh, you’re so mean. Let me. Please. I just want to taste you.” She looked up at me with those big, soft eyes and I swear to fucking Christ I almost lost it right there in her face.

  “You’re a very bad girl, Skylar Nixon.”

  Her lips widened into a wickedly delighted smile. “Let’s play a game.”

  Oh, Jesus. What was she up for? What was I up for? “What kind of game?”

  “Just a little something I’ve been thinking about.” She licked me, and I let her. “Let’s pretend we’re back in school and we’re skipping class.”

  I closed my eyes, willing myself not to come too fast, but the fact that she wanted to indulge in a little fantasy was liable to put me right over.

  “And I’ve never given anyone a blowjob before. You’re the first, Sebastian.” Her voice had changed. It was higher-pitched, more girlish.

  “Yeah?” I managed, relaxing my grip in her hair a little.

  “Yes.” She brought her legs up beneath her so she was kneeling on the passenger seat. “Tell me what to do to make you come.”

  “Uh, hearing you say that would’ve made me come already.”

  She gave me a dirty look, then pouted. “Come on. Play with me.” A dirty little grin stretched her lips. “I just want to please you.”

  When she lowered her mouth to me again, her ass in the air, I put one hand on it as she took me in deep again, slowly gliding her lips and tongue and teeth down my cock and back up, again and again and again.

  “Fucking hell, Skylar Nixon. If this is your first blowjob, you are a goddamn prodigy.”

  She giggled, pulling m
e from her mouth. “You like it?”

  I licked my lips and palmed her perfect ass. “Yeah.”

  “Have you seen me around school?” She arched her back, batted her lashes at me. “I’ve seen you.”

  “Every day,” I growled. “And every day I want you just like this. On your knees for me.”

  “Really?” She smiled shyly. “Tell me what to do.”

  I inhaled. “Put my dick in your mouth,” I told her. (Somewhere inside my head was a skinny, awkward teenager screaming Oh my god, you just told Skylar Nixon to put your dick in her mouth!) “Yes, just like that.” She took me between her lips and resumed the slow bobs of her head, the tight squeezes with her hand. “It feels so good when you take my cock in deep like that. I love your tongue on it.” She paused with the tip hitting the back of her throat and I groaned, lifting my hips off the seat.

  “Yes, yes…” I whispered. “Fuck yes, like that. You’re so beautiful, and I’ve thought about this so many times…” I loosened my grip on her hair further and she moved her hand and head faster, making my lower body tingle and clench and burn. Oh fuck, I was close—did she really want it this way?

  “I’m gonna come, beautiful. You’re gonna make me come in your mouth…are you sure?” In answer, she went even harder at me, moaning and sucking and jerking me with tight, hard pulls, keeping me deep inside her mouth. Oh god oh god oh god—fuck yes! I spanked her ass hard, left my hand there as my climax ripped through me and I came in her mouth, my cock throbbing hard, my breath escaping me in loud, strangled growls.

  When it was over, she swallowed and straightened up to her knees, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Was it good?” she asked, all wide-eyed innocence and full, puffy lips.

  “Uhng” Yes, that’s what I said. Uhng.

  She smiled slyly. “I hope so. I liked it. Maybe you’ll let me do it again sometime.”

  “Maybe.” Grabbing her jaw with one hand, I pulled her face to mine. “But first, we’re going home to eat, because I’m starving.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “And then I’m going to punish you for being such a naughty little schoolgirl.”

  Her eyes gleamed with blue fire. “I was naughty, wasn’t I?”

  I kissed her lips. “Yes.”

  “It was your fault. Wearing that suit and coming to surprise me that way.” She buckled herself in while I did up my pants, and as we drove the short distance to the cabin, I kept looking at her legs…and her shoes.

  It gave me an idea, something I’d always wanted to try but never had the nerve to attempt because of who I was. But Skylar was different.

  She understood me.

  Twenty-Four

  Skylar

  “Are you hungry?” he asked once we got inside.

  “Sort of.” I slipped out of my coat, setting it and my purse on the couch. I had no idea if I was hungry—my stomach was doing all kinds of crazy acrobatics.

  He went into the kitchen, flipped on the light and started rummaging around in the fridge. “Sort of. Hm. Will you eat if I make something?”

  “Sure. You cook?” Surprised, I went over to the little breakfast bar and sat on a stool.

  “Yes.” After washing his hands, he pulled out a carton of eggs and a green bell pepper. “Are you impressed?”

  I nodded. “Definitely.”

  “Good.” He pulled two small tomatoes, a bag of shredded mozzarella cheese, and a package of bacon from the fridge. “Do you cook?”

  I pursed my lips. “I’m more of a sous-chef.”

  He grinned and grabbed milk, butter, and a bag of basil from the fridge before closing the door. “You can help.”

  “OK.” Excited, I joined him in the kitchen, washing my hands at the sink. “What should I do?”

  “Can you chop the basil and slice the tomatoes?”

  “Sure. Knife?” I looked around for a knife block but didn’t see one.

  “They’re in the cupboard above the fridge. I’ll get you one.”

  “Why the hell are they up there?”

  “No reason.” He opened the cupboard, and I saw the block tucked inside it.

  Liar.

  “Hey,” I said. “Bring the entire block down.”

  He froze.

  “I mean it. Get the whole thing.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose a second, but then he reached in and lifted the block down, setting it on the counter.

  We both stared at it.

  I pulled out the biggest butcher knife he had. “Take it.”

  Grimacing, he took it from me and held it in his hand.

  “Are you going to stab me?”

  “No!” He looked horrified.

  “Good. Are you going to stab anyone, ever?”

  “No.” He stared at the blade. “No, I’m not.”

  “Then why do you have to keep your knives way the fuck up there?”

  He shrugged. “Old habit.”

  “Well, break it. If I ever come over to cook again, I need to be able to reach things. I’m high-cupboard challenged.”

  He handed me the knife, taking a breath. “You’re right. I’ll move them down.”

  “Thank you.” I located a cutting board and got to work, while he melted some butter in a pan on the stove.

  “Did anyone ever tell you,” he said, “you’d make a good therapist?”

  I laughed. “No. But I’m glad you think so.”

  “Hey, do you like champagne?” He opened the fridge and pulled out a long-necked green bottle. “My brother and sister-in-law got me this when the cabin was finished and I never opened it.”

  “I love it,” I assured him. “Pop the cork.”

  Sebastian had no dining table, so we ate Caprese omelettes and drank champagne sitting next to each other at the breakfast bar, a lemon beeswax candle burning between us.

  “That smells so good. I’ve got to get your sister-in-law’s information,” I said between bites. “Don’t let me forget.”

  “I saw her yesterday. She gave me some samples and a card for you. Oh,” he said, as if he’d just remembered something. “I have something else for you too.” He set his fork down, stood up, and reached for his wallet, which was on the kitchen counter. “Here,” he said, handing me a business card.

  “What’s this?” I took it from him and studied it. “Abelard Vineyards, Lucas and Mia Fournier.”

  “I met them yesterday at the office. My brother Malcolm is helping them settle a property line dispute.” He sat down again and resumed eating. “They’re new owners, in the last couple years or so, and they’ve expanded. She’s pregnant, and she’s looking for an assistant. Someone to help with the tasting room and special events.” He glanced sideways at me. “I thought of you.”

  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Thank you. That’s so sweet.”

  “He said she’s picky, but I know she’d like you.”

  My heart sank a little. “Picky? I bet she wants a college degree. Or more experience.” I set the card down and picked up my champagne.

  “Her husband didn’t say anything like that. He just said she’s choosy about who works there. You should call her.”

  I bit my lip, bubbles lingering on my tongue. “You think so?”

  Sebastian set his fork down again, grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me toward him, kissing my lips hard. “I know so. Who wouldn’t adore you?”

  A blush crept up my chest. “It does sound perfect. I’ll think about it.”

  When we’d finished eating, we poured the rest of the champagne into our glasses and went out on the patio. This time we shared one of the Adirondack chairs Sebastian had put together, me sitting on his lap.

  “Are you cold?” he asked me, and I loved the way his brow furrowed with concern. “I’m sorry. I’m in a suit but you have bare arms and legs.”

  “I’m OK. I’ll let you know if I get cold.” I kissed his forehead, my right arm around his shoulders, my left holding my wine glass.

  We were quiet for a moment
, and it was a comfortable silence. I wasn’t even the one to break it.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I thought maybe I’d fucked things up too much the other night.”

  “I was a bit thrown,” I admitted. I took a sip of champagne. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  He didn’t speak right away, and I didn’t force it. “I panicked.”

  I looked at him. “Why?”

  “Because you…do something to me I didn’t expect. Something I don’t even really understand.” He dropped his eyes from the water to my legs. “Sorry, I know I owe you a better explanation,” he started, but I hushed him with a kiss.

  “You know what? Not right now you don’t.” I kissed him again. “You really don’t.” In all honesty, I didn’t even really understand what was happening between us, and I sure as hell hadn’t expected it either. Maybe tomorrow we’d talk. Tonight, I just wanted to be with him.

  We kissed again, sweet and slow and searching, and eventually Sebastian set down his glass to brush my hair back from my face. “Do you know,” he whispered, “how many nights I dreamed about you?”

  I shook my head, my pulse quickening.

  “Countless. And in countless dreams, you weren’t as beautiful as you are in real life.”

  I smiled. “You liked the blow job.”

  He groaned. “Fuck yes, I did. But I like even more than that about you. You make me want to take chances I never thought I’d take again.”

  “What kind of chances?”

  “Being close to someone. It’s never easy for me, but you make it feel that way. And every time I’m with you, it gets easier.”

  After a deep breath, I asked, “So in the car tonight…no bad thoughts?”

  He shook his head. “None. You managed to shut down my brain entirely—at least, that part of it.”