Page 19 of Worth the Heat
His face pales, and he looks remarkably horrified. “Fucking hell,no. I have sisters. And a mom. And a grandmother. She’s the worst, because she asks for the oddest things. So I just started grabbing anything that seemed even remotely female. Now her requests are getting even more outlandish. Last week she asked for a purple wet brush.”
“Okay?” I ask. A wet brush isn’t that out of the ordinary. My sister Gianna has incredibly curly hair, and I know she uses a wet brush.
“She doesn’t have curly hair, Isabella. She barely has any hair at all. The hair she does have gets done by a professional every week. The fuck does she need a wet brush for?” he asks, deadpan. I can’t help the laughter that bursts from my mouth, causing Sebastian’s gaze to snap to my lips. He grins, but doesn’t say anything as he reaches up, ghosting his thumb over my bottom lip.
I inhale sharply as he presses down in the center of my lip, my mouth opening slightly. My breath quickens as I imagine what it would feel like if his thumb slid between my lips. How his skin would feel. Taste.
“One day,” he murmurs. “You’ll be ready one day.”
Removing his thumb, he leans in to kiss my forehead, then turns and walks toward the door. When I call out his name, he stops. “What will I be ready for?”
Sebastian stands still for a moment before giving me his one-word answer.
“Me.”
Four hours later,I’m wide awake. I have to be up in a few hours to be at the bakery, and I can’t calm my mind down. I just keep reliving what that man — Devon — did. What he told me he was going to do to me.
I wish I had a therapist. I’ve never been one to think about my emotional health too much, but right now, I could use the help of a professional. I debate on texting Arianna, but I justcan’t. It would freak her out, and then she’d tell Stone. I know he would immediately tell Sebastian or my brothers, and they’d stop at nothing until Devon was dealt with. I can’t have that on my conscience. Even with the lewd and appalling things Devon claimed he’d do, I won’t tell anyone.
“Gonna fuck your ass first,” he’d grunted as he attempted to rip my pants off. “Then this pussy. I was only supposed to rough you up a bit, get you to work with us and tell us where the drugs are.”
“I don’t know anything about drugs!” I’d wailed as he’d jammed his hand down my pants, roughly cupping my sex.
That was when Sebastian roared into the room.
He literally roared, like a lion protecting his mate.
I’d never seen Sebastian so angry and fired up.
And now, sleeping in his guest room, I can’t settle down because the only place that has felt even halfway peaceful over the past couple of weeks was in his arms.
I’m up and opening the door before I truly even realize what I’m doing.
Tiptoeing down the hallway toward Sebastian’s room, I make it all the way to his doorway before noticing it’s wide open. He left the door open for me.
Moonlight casts a glow through open windows right onto the bed, and I see Sebastian turn his head my way. Without a word, he throws back the comforter for me. I don’t question it, immediately climbing into the massive bed and straight into his embrace.I’ve been so closed-off with him. So mean. And he’s patiently waited, never judging me for my behavior. A different man would have locked the door, but Sebastian lets me right in.
We both sigh as we sink into relaxation. My left hand rests on his chest, and I throw my left leg over both of his. He lays his right hand over mine on his chest, clasping it firmly against his skin. I feel Butterscotch jump onto the bed, finding a spot between our legs. The feel of Sebastian’s heartbeat under my palm is steady, and lulls me into sleep.
I only vaguely remember him whispering to me as I finally fall asleep.
“This is where you belong,Naranja.”
I wakeup disoriented but incredibly rested. It takes me a minute to remember where I am. Not only am I at Sebastian’s house, but I’m in his bed. Sunlight streams in through large windows with slate blue curtains falling along the sides of each one. My head swings to the side, checking for Sebastian, and I let out a small, relieved breath when I find I’m alone. Now I can continue my perusal of his space.
The room positively reeks of Sebastian. A dark walnut dresser and a deep brown leather chair sit across from the massive bed. I’m surprised to discover there isn’t a wall-mounted television, and also that there is no clothing out of place anywhere. Spotting an open doorway, I quietly climb out of bed and tiptoe over to peer into a large bathroom. The largest soaking tub I’ve ever seen occupies the corner, with two gigantic picture windows meeting in the middle. A walk-in tile shower is next to the tub, and when I can’t see the shower head, I step inside to find the space wraps around a wall. Multiple heads cover the walls — and theceiling— and I’m taken aback at how luxurious and opulent it is.
Don’t get me wrong: Sebastian has an aristocratic way about him. He carries himself proudly, almost regally, and treats women with reverence and respect. But the juxtaposition between that and the Sebastian I’ve experienced with my brothers is so dramatically different. I hear about the Seb who owns a bar and runs an MC club. I’ve witnessed the first Sebastian, but my mind is finding it difficult to marry the two together.
Exiting the shower, I see the closet is open, and I can’t stop myself from peeking inside. The space smells like Sebastian’s cologne, and when I notice a bottle on a shelf, I snatch it up, taking a big whiff. The Tom Ford cologne is phenomenal, with a perfect mixture of oakwood, cardamom, and sandalwood. I already know it’s well out of my price point, but I’m tempted to sneak it into the guest room and spray it on a pillowcase or one of my sweaters. This scent has to be remembered.
As I’m placing it back on the shelf, I sense I’m being watched. I hang my head as I imagine how Sebastian will react. “I’m sorry. I know, I should ask first. This is your space, and I’m being so disrespectful by snooping.”
“What’s snooping?”
That’s not Sebastian. That’s a child’s voice. What the hell?
Spinning, I find a little girl, no more than five, watching me with interest. “Uh, hi.”
