Page 81 of Reckless Hearts
And this is what gets me about Seb. I have people around me all the time. I’m constantly being watched, cameras following my every move, fans mobbing me, directors telling me who to be, stylists deciding how I should look.
But Seb makes me feel seen in a different way to everyone else.
The panicky feeling is back in my chest, but I don’t let it overtake me.
Instead, I watch this man set a slow, torturous pace as he rides me. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, his eyes half-lidded, but he never breaks eye contact.
Seb’s watching me as I move inside him, and I feel exposed, like he can see right through me to all the parts I try to keep hidden. His gaze is tender, almost reverent.
I wonder if, like me, he’s trying to memorize every moment of this.
He feels incredible, all tight heat and perfect pressure. It’s like he was made for me, our bodies fitting together in a way that defies explanation.
And I know I’m not going to last, so I stroke him, my thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock. I’m torn between wanting to draw this out forever and needing to see him fall apart above me.
His breathing turns even more ragged.
“Marcus.” My name on his lips is not a word but a groan as he comes all over my chest.
Fuck, seeing Seb’s face so awash with pleasure has my own balls clenching, and it’s the final push I need. I explode inside him, every nerve ending in my body lighting up like the Las Vegas strip.
Seb slumps forward, and my arms automatically encircle him, cradling him gently. I press a soft kiss to his temple.
For a moment, I let myself pretend this isn’t our last night together.
I pretend I don’t have to let him go in the morning.
Morning comes too quickly.My alarm shatters my peaceful cocoon of sleep, and I fumble for my phone, desperate to silence it before it wakes Seb.
It’s an utter fail.
Seb blinks at me blearily, that stubborn tuft of hair sticking up at the back like always.
It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to pull away from him, to get out of bed.
As I pull on my clothes, the panicky feeling from last night is back in my chest.
How do I say goodbye to Seb?
He fumbles for his glasses, and there’s something vulnerable and hopeful on his face as he watches me pull on clothes.
Fuck.
One of the things I like most about Seb is his lack of pretense. But it also means I will know exactly how much I’ve hurt him if I screw this up.
And I desperately don’t want to hurt him.
I rake a hand through my hair before I push out the words. “We should stay in touch. When I’m back in New Zealand next, we could…catch up,” I say.
A smile slides up Seb’s face. “Catch up? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Okay, catching up properly might require us to get naked,” I say, and his grin widens.
I can’t help smiling back.
“So, you’re going to give me your new number, and you’ll reply to my messages?” He’s aiming for nonchalance, but I can hear the tension in his voice.
And even though I’m not the type of guy anyone should trust to keep a promise, I find myself making one to Seb now.
