Page 73 of Hell Bent
Ben couldn’t have looked more shocked. “It does?”
“Yeah, it does. Hey. Everybody needs family.”
“And dogs,” Ben said.
“And dogs,” Sebastian agreed. “Dogs don’t talk at you. They’re just there. Dogs are the best. Even when they fart so disgustingly, they wake you up out of a really good dream.” And smiled.
How was I supposed to resist this man?
29
MY PATENTED TECHNIQUE
Sebastian
I didn’t normally go to bed at nine o’clock. But when a woman with the kind of curves that work for you best—and the kind of mind that keeps you laughing and guessing and frustrated as hell—walks out of your bathroom wearing a sort of T-shirt dress that barely reaches the tops of her thighs and nothing else you can see? When that T-shirt is falling off one shoulder, and her hair is tumbled around her again? You get ready for bed. Fast.
This time, she wasn’t asleep when I came out of the bathroom, and only the light on my bedside table was on. She was sitting up in bed. And looking … a way I couldn’t read.
“Hey,” I said, sliding in beside her.
“You should tell me more,” she said, talking fast. “About what your sister said to you, if anything. What you expect going forward. So I can help Ben.”
“Mm. Or you could help me, of course.” I had a hand on that bare shoulder again. How could I not touch her?
“Which is …” she said. I moved the backs of my fingers along her skin, barely under the top of the shirt, and she gasped and said, “The point. That I help you.”
“Uh-huh.” I was pulling her down in the bed so she was lying flat. Much better. And, finally, was able to kiss her on that bare shoulder and right below it, in that sweet, tender place at the top of a woman’s breast. How could she be so tough at times, and still be so soft here? She shuddered, and I remembered her asking if her whole body could be an erogenous zone. I ran a hand down to her waist just to feel that springiness again, back up to her shoulder, and down her arm. Slowly, shoulder to wrist, feeling the softness and the strength of her. Her hand twisted under me, and I laced my fingers through hers, slowly still, tunneled the fingers of my other hand through her soft, shiny hair, and kissed her deep. My body was over hers, her mouth was opening under mine, and she felt so good under me.
She was making some little noises in her throat now. Hard for her to do more than that with my tongue in her mouth, but that was fine by me. Her hand was on my shoulder, then wrapped around the back of my neck, her legs were parting, and …
She pulled her mouth away and said, “Sebastian. Wait.”
Not the words I wanted to hear, but I did it. I rose on my elbows, kept my fingers threaded through hers, and asked, “What?”
“Uh …” She squirmed a little in a half-of-me-wants-to-get-away-because-you’re-too-much-for-me kind of way, at least I hoped that was it. Her brown eyes, which already took up half her face, looked bigger than ever, and her mouth was a little open. I brushed her hair back, kissed her forehead, and said again, “What? Tell me, baby.”
“Oh, man.” It was a moan. “I should hate you calling me that. I’ve always— Why can’t I hate that?”
“Because the part of you that only comes out at nightwants to be my baby?” I suggested. “It can be our secret. I’ll never tell.” Another kiss, on her temple this time, then brushing my cheek against hers and feeling that shudder again. I hadn’t even touched her breast, and she was already shuddering. What would it be like when I was inside her and she was wrapped all the way around me? What would it be like to part her thighs and …
Wait. I was supposed to be being sensitive. “What else?”
“Uh …” she said again. “That I wasn’t going to do this. And that you have condoms in your bathroom.”
“Yeah, I do. And I want to use them.” Somehow, I’d let go of her hand, shifted a bit, and was finally touching that thigh. Firm. Round. Smooth. Then I was shoving the duvet aside so I could see. My thumb was on her inner thigh, stroking a little, and she was doing some more of that shifting. “But first,” I said into her ear, feeling her squirm a little more, “I want to pull up this shirt you’re wearing. Slowly. I want to kiss you all the way down your body, and then I want to turn you over so I can kiss all the way down your spine and touch your skin everywhere. And then I want to flip you over again, hold your thighs apart hard, and give you the kind of orgasm that’s going to have you remembering me tomorrow.”
“Uh … condoms. We were talking about … condoms.” She had her hand on my back, though, stroking over my shoulder and moving on down, clearly wanting to do some exploring of her own. Which was fine by me. Like I’d said—two strong-willed people having a bit of a power struggle wasn’t any kind of a bad thing.
“I promise to wear one,” I said.
“The box is open.” A different kind of shift in her now, a stilling of her hand, so I stopped moving my own hand on her thigh.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve used some of that box. In the past.”
“How far past?” Eyes dilated to hell, but leveled on me.Mouth pink and tempting, but talking, not begging to be kissed.
“I haven’t used them,” I said, “since before I met you.”
