The smile that spreads across his face could belong to the devil himself.
“They’re connected.” His thumbs turn inward on my thighs and run along the hem of my shorts.
“And?”
“I want to take you out on a date.”
I frown, and my face scrunches into something that must resemble smelling a dirty diaper, but I can’t help it. “A date? With me?”
“Yes, Rowan. Only with you.” His hands stop moving, but his fingers press a little harder into my skin. “You’ve been on dates before.”
Sort of, though Jake and I never really cared to go out. Did we actually ever go on a date that wasn’t in one of our apartments? I reach for my bracelets to find my wrist naked—I never put them back on after my shower—and now all my nervous energy zaps from my fingertips into my tattoo. Each time my thumb taps against it, my blood sings Sebastian’s name.
“You’ve never been on a date before?” His entire body has turned to stone, and the way he’s glaring, you’d think I told him I wanted to be a virgin again or something.
Geez, Seb. Don’t stare at me as though you want to fix my whole world. Lowering my chin, I chew on my lip before answering.
“I had one long-term relationship in college, but neither of us were very social. I mean, we went to the movies a couple of times.”
“Fucking idiot,” Seb growls.
“What’s the favor?” I ask. Anything to change this subject.
He’s quiet for a long moment while he studies my face, and a flush instantly creeps across my skin. What’s going through his mind when he stares at me that way?
“I have to go to New York in a couple of weeks for a big charity gala. I want you to come with me, and we can have a date in New York, away from responsibilities for a couple of nights.”
“You want me…to go with you…to a charity gala…in New York City?”
There’s no way he’s asking that. What the hell would I do at a gala?
“Yes.”
“Yes?” My voice reaches a decibel that only dogs can hear. “Then what’s the favor?”
His grin morphs into a sheepish expression, and he lowers his lashes. They flutter against his cheeks before opening again. “My question is will you go on a date with me. My favor is going to the gala.”
Sweet baby Jesus.
“Sebastian,” I say breathlessly. The way he’s staring at me is frying my brain cells. I almost freaking said yes. “Trust me when I say this, I’m the last person you want to take to a gala. I can’t walk in heels, I don’t own a formal gown and I never have, I can barely apply makeup without looking like a clown. I wouldn’t even begin to know what to do with more than one fork on the table. Stella! Take Stella. She’d be great at this.”
Even as I say it, the green-eyed snake of jealousy slithers up my spine.
“Beck tolerates me most days, but he doesn’t like anyone enough for them to cross state lines with his wife. And that’s beside the point because you’re the only person I want to go with. All that other stuff, the dress, the shoes, that’s all stuff we have plenty of time to figure out. Plus, the girls would love to take you shopping.”
Suddenly Tabby’s statement about making up for lost time makes a lot more sense. Every ounce of self-preservation I have is screaming at me to say no because this is truly a terrible idea.
Then I study his face, and my mouth disconnects from my brain entirely.
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you about this. If I make a fool out of you, you only have yourself to blame.” I pout, crossing my arms over my chest, because the second I give my consent, Sebastian’s dark gaze changes from one of hope to all-consuming lust that burns hot enough to scorch my skin.
He slides down the bed, grabs both of my ankles, and gives me a sharp tug until I’m flat on my back. Then, he goes to work. He unties my pajama shorts, pausing to give me a chance to say no—yeah right. I’m not saying no now. With a smirk, he pulls the shorts down my legs. He’s so close to my body that his short puffs of hot air hit my skin with the intensity of a blowtorch.
“There’s my girl,” he says, staring straight into my eyes as his thumbs hook the straps on my panties. Then they’re gone too.
He slowly scans my body, only stopping when he reaches my pussy, and it’s so intoxicating, the insides of my thighs grow damp with my arousal.
The first swipe of his tongue along my slit might as well be my last crumbling wall. He separates me with his thumbs. It would be embarrassing, how intensely he stares at my pussy, if not for the way his entire body vibrates with a satisfied growl.
