Page 46 of Sebastian

“You know, I’m not entirely opposed to the idea,” Christian says with a quirk of his lips.

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. I blink when my brain manages to process them. “You’re not?”

He shrugs. “Let’s not rule it out just yet.”

I open my mouth, then shut it again. I don’t have any words to express how stunned I am. My heart is racing again but for an entirely different reason. My stomach settles itself back into my body and my lungs finally remember how to function. A part of me was convinced that Christian would never agree to another video. Or if he did, that would be the end of the relationship we’re kinda, sorta building.

But here he is, considering the idea. And he’s still holding me, caressing my cheek, smiling and looking at me in the way that I’ve become addicted to. Maybe there’s a way to have both. Maybe it isn’t too good to be true.

I move before I can talk myself out of it and surge toward him. I crush our mouths together and brace my hands on his cheeks to hold him close.

His arms come around me and suddenly I’m out of my chair and into his lap. I whimper against his lips and he opens his mouth for me. When our tongues touch, it sends a shudder of pleasure through me that pools in my groin. My cock fills and I can feel Christian’s cock growing against my ass.

A catcall sounds somewhere off in the distance. It’s Sawyer, I think, but it doesn’t really matter. Christian’s tongue is in my mouth and I’m keeping it there for as long as I can.

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHRISTIAN

“Are you sure about this?” Sebastian is surveying our hotel room in Chicago while twisting his fingers into knots.

I’m not sure about this at all. When this whole thing started, I only ever imagined myself doing one video. It was supposed to be a test, an experiment, just to see if I still had what it took. It’s exploded into a completely different beast since then. I never expected the video to go viral like it has. I never expected to connect with Sebastian like we have either.

When he brought up the possibility of filming a second video, my first reaction was “No,” followed immediately by “Why not?” I enjoyed it the first time. The video is doing really well. Sebastian’s right that we should ride the wave as long as we can. The only factor that’s firmly in the no column is the fact that I’m technically retired. And even that isn’t quite as clear-cut as it used to be.

What I do know for sure is that I don’t want to go back to that old life of mine. I’m happy at Mars. I love being a personal trainer. I’m not about to give that up. But I like this too. I like the way Sebastian works—I like working with Sebastian. There’s no reason why I can’t have both in my life, is there?

I know Sebastian is apprehensive. I know he’s got a lot more riding on these videos than I do. I also know that the prospect of not being successful, of not meeting his goals, is a constant worry that he carries around like a boulder on his back. If filming a second video will help alleviate that burden, then here, hold my jockstrap.

I take his hands and untangle his fingers. “I’m sure. Are you sure?”

He nods. His gaze flits to mine, then away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.”

He’s a giant ball of energy, and has been since this morning when we were headed to the airport. I remember that mix of nervousness and excitement from our first shoot. He’s fidgety and bouncing off the walls, eyes wide and a little wild. I draw him into my arms and after a second, he melts against me, letting me siphon away some of the excess restlessness.

Sebastian sighs. “Thank you.”

I give him a squeeze. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He looks up at me with something in his eyes that I’m not sure I’ve seen before. Something a little hesitant and brimming with hope. It resonates with me, like some subconscious part of me recognizes it and reciprocates.

But before I can figure out what it is, or whether I should say something, Sebastian nods. “Okay, let’s do this,” he says, pulling away and turning to the suitcase with all his equipment.

It was my idea to film the follow-up video in Chicago. We’ve booked a fancy hotel room with black walls, plush leather furniture, and a giant king-sized bed covered in one-thousand thread count sheets. Out of the floor-to-ceiling windows is a view of Lake Michigan and the Centennial Ferris Wheel on Navy Pier. The art on the wall above the bed is some sort of spiky metal sculpture that looks kind of dangerous.

It’ll be a change from Sebastian’s apartment and we can tie it into the Grabby Awards. All points that should help hype up this sequel, which is what we’re calling it. #Chastian, the Sequel.

We’re starting in the bathroom, and it’s a little tricky finding a spot for the tripod that gets the camera angles we want without drenching Sebastian’s equipment. The shower is lined with dark, graphite tiles and fitted with a copper-colored rainwater shower head. It’s deep and wide enough for two fully grown men, with a built-in bench that should garner some interesting positions.

Sebastian finishes fiddling with the camera and looks up at me. “That should do it.” There’s a tremor in his voice that gives away how amped up he is.

I go up to him, settle my hands on his hips, and pull him against me. “Hey.”

His lips part as he sucks in a breath and I take the opportunity to slip my tongue into his mouth. He whimpers and clings to me, and blood rushes to my cock. Before the kiss in the lobby of Mars that day, we’d been astonishingly good at keeping our hands to ourselves. After that kiss though, all bets were off. I haul Sebastian into my lap every chance I get. I stop him in the middle of sentences to kiss him. It’s like we’re making up for all that lost time. And the more of Sebastian I get, the more I crave.

“Mmm,” Sebastian moans into my mouth. “The camera’s not on yet.”

“I know. I’m just getting warmed up.”

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