Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
It’s such a stupid thought that it circles all the way back around to brilliance. Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe I’m not actually developing some awful, inconvenient, brother-destroying attachment to Sebastian DeLuca. Maybe I’m just horny. Maybe I’ve spent weeks working too hard and thinking about him too much, building this whole thing into something dangerous when really it’s just chemistry. A problem with a very obvious solution.
Avoiding him hasn’t gotten him out of my system, so screwing him seems like the only alternative. One night. No harm, no foul. No feelings. No mess.
I look at him again, how tall and dark and composed he is in a way that somehow makes the heat between us feel even more reckless and think, yes. That’s the answer. I will sleep with him exactly once, and then I will be done.
“Tell me to stop,” he says again, his voice low enough that I feel it more than hear it over the music.
I don’t even hesitate this time. I shake my head.
He kisses me again, gently this time. When he pulls back, his eyes stay on mine for one beat longer, then he takes my hand and starts moving. I barely have time to glance toward the bar before Gia sees my face and looks like she’s about to scream in glee.
I lift my free hand in a vague gesture to tell her we’re leaving. She grins like a maniac and waves me off.
Outside, the night air hits my skin cool and sharp after the heat of the club. The city glows around us in slick gold and white from the blinding headlights, neon, and illusion. Bellissimo spills music onto the sidewalk behind us, but Sebastian doesn’t lead me to a car. He turns us down the block toward one of the luxury hotels that sits like a polished jewel against the street, all glass and warm stone and discreet doormen.
Of course he has a hotel down the street. Of course the staff all know him. The man at the entrance straightens when he sees Sebastian, and the woman at the desk offers a smooth, respectful greeting that tells me this is not a rare occurrence. I register all of it dimly. Suspiciously. I should probably care more than I do.
I’m too wound up, too far gone, too aware that I’ve spent weeks wanting this and pretending I didn’t. The elevator doors close behind us with a soft whisper, and the second they do, Sebastian turns to me.
There’s a split second where neither of us moves, and then I’m on him. Or he’s on me. Maybe both. It doesn’t matter. My hands are already fisting in his shirt, his mouth is on mine, and whatever last scraps of caution I had left get swallowed whole. The kiss is even hotter than what occurred on the dance floor, maybe because we know this isn’t hypothetical anymore. There’s nothing stopping us from getting exactly what we want. We don’t have to be mindful of watchful eyes. I back into the mirrored wall with a small sound that disappears into his mouth when he follows and cages me there, one hand braced beside my head.
This is exactly what I wanted. My pulse is out of control. His hand slides down my side, and the heat of it through the thin fabric of my dress makes me arch toward him before I can stop myself. He makes a rough sound low in his throat that goes straight through me. I kiss him harder because thinking has become impossible, and because I want the clean, easy certainty of pure want. Nothing emotional. Nothing complicated. Just bodies taking what they need.
The elevator dings, and we break apart just enough to breathe.
I laugh once under my breath, wild and shaky.
The hallway is quiet and expensive and softly lit the way luxury hotels specialize in. Sebastian gets the door open, and I couldn’t tell you what the room looks like. I’m laser-focused on getting him naked and feeling his mouth on mine again. My purse hits some unidentified surface. His jacket lands somewhere else.
This is not going to be intimate. That’s a boundary I set in my head right now. This is hot and fun and a way to scratch an itch. Nothing deeper is allowed. No lingering eye contact or deep conversations afterward.
He scoops me up and carries me to the bed, never once breaking the kiss. He’s incredibly strong. A nervous thrill runs through me as I wonder what else that strength extends to. I pull at his shirt hard enough to pop the buttons. He chuckles against my mouth but doesn’t complain. Urgency is the name of the game.
Then he’s pulling back, sitting me up as his hand moves to the hem of my dress. I let him move me however he needs to. I’m a rag doll in his hands, and he unwraps me like I’m a gift he’s been waiting for all year. When I’m sitting in front of him in nothing but my lace underwear, he hisses. His eyes darken as they roam over my bare skin.