Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
The girl on his easel is me, her flushed face taking up most of the canvas, brown eyes warm with a glint of a smile even as they impart a lustful vibe. Her blond hair is mussed, the strands led astray by a man’s fingers holding her face in the cradle of his hands.
That girl isn’t just me—it’s me on the beach.
Me and him.
I’d give anything to go back to that moment, to how perfect things were between us for that single day. As he studies the painting, no doubt looking for imperfections, I eye him. One of us has to make the first move, but I’m not sure how to do it.
Things spiraled out of control so fast on that highway.
“Should I initial it, or should I just put Sexy As Sin on there?” The half grin he gives me weakens my knees.
It’s an olive branch, and I can’t help but smile back as my soul fills with hope. “Just your initials. That nickname isn’t for the public. It’s mine alone.”
He adds his initials with a scrawl of his brush before washing the tool in soapy water. He’s covered in paint, from a splotch of canary yellow on his cheek to the stains on his fingers. Waving toward his latest masterpiece, he asks, “You like it?”
“I love it.”
He hesitates for a moment. “I want to show you something.” His long stride carries him to a large painting in front of the wall of windows facing the sea. Whatever lay underneath that black sheet, it’s humongous, and it’s in the same spot it was two months ago when Landon brought me to the lion’s lair for the first time.
Sebastian shoots me an uncertain look as he fingers the edge of the sheet. “You’ll be the first to see this.” He tugs the covering off and reveals a wispy painting of my favorite place on the cliffs. A blonde stands on the edge, her flaxen hair caught in the wind as a white dress whirls around her ankles.
“It’s breathtaking.” I halt at his side, enraptured by the painting and the talent flowing through his blood.
“You’re easy to paint, Novalee. I could watch you all day.”
I think about all the times I escaped to that spot on the edge of the sea, needing to find a slice of solitude in a tower of demanding men. Knowing he was watching me, studying my private moments from the ninth floor, paintbrush in hand, should upset me. It would disturb me on a deep level if it were anyone else.
But Sebastian makes stalking a form of flattery. A work of art.
“Does it bother you that I was spying on you?”
I shake my head. “You weren’t doing it for nefarious reasons. This is who you are.” I gesture at the painting. “You find beauty in everything you see. I’m honored you found me to be a worthy subject.”
We settle into a long stretch of silence on the verge of disquiet. Unable to take it a moment longer, I gather my courage and do what I came here to do. “We should talk about what happened the other day.”
Our eyes meet, and something shifts between us, clicking into place.
“I’m sorry,” we say at the same time.
He reaches a hand out, knuckles brushing my cheekbone. “You already apologized. Now it’s my turn.” Another caress, and I turn to liquid from his touch. “You were right to smack the shit out of me. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I have a mean temper, and when someone pokes it, I strike without considering the fallout.”
“I know you have a temper.”
“And I know you have feelings for Castle. It’s wrong for me to hold them against you, all things considered.”
I gulp, taking the last step into the territory of courage. “But I’m in love with you.” My declaration hangs in the air. His reaction is subtle, but the quick rise and fall of his shoulders tells me it affected him.
“You don’t know how bad I want to believe that.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to prove it to you.” Standing on tiptoe, I grab his face and bring my mouth to his. The instant our lips touch, the coil tightens, sexual tension mounting in our bones. He picks me up, his hands steady on my ass.
“Will you come to bed with me?” The question holds a hint of a plea against my lips.
“You don’t need my permission, Sebastian.”
“Maybe so, but I want it.” His stare holds me captive, guard crashing at his feet.
“Take me to bed.”
He carries me toward his quarters, switching the light off as we go. His bedroom welcomes us with sense-heightening darkness, and we fumble our way out of our clothes, mouths merging as he guides me to the place where he sleeps. His hands and tongue explore me as if I’m a sensual canvas, like a work of art he intends to worship for the rest of his life. When he enters me for the second time, his lubed cock pushing past the ring of resistance, I’m aroused and prepared. He takes me like he did at the cottage, face to face with a pillow under my hips, inching his way into my ass with careful thrusts.