I wink back at her, and she rolls her eyes, scoffing at me.
““I’ll talk to you later, now get the hell out of my shop, Sebastard.”
ten
By the timeI make it upstairs later that night, I’m dead on my feet. The shop was surprisingly busy today. My weekly delivery came in over 3 hours late, right in the middle of the afternoon rush. Steven, the regular delivery man, must’ve had something up his ass today because his usual flirty disposition was nowhere to be found. Instead, he grunted every other word before shoving the clipboard in my face to sign. He knows I’m meticulous in going over my orders before signing for them, yet he acted like I was a huge inconvenience today.
Walking through the front door of Sebastian’s apartment, Doug meets me with a wag of his stubby tail. He pushes his head into my thigh, and I scratch behind his ears the way he likes best.
“Did you have a great day, my baby? Mama did not.” I drop my phone and purse on the kitchen island, looking around the small space for any sign of Sebastian. I didn’t really ask his permission to come back again tonight, but he did say we needed to talk, so I just assumed he knew I’d be here.
“Where is he, boy?” I ask Doug, and he looks down the hall towards the open bedroom door.
It occurs to me right at this moment that maybe I should’ve called before I just let myself in to his apartment. We’re not friends. We’re barely acquaintances. But I’m at the point of asking for forgiveness instead of permission now, so might as well push forward.
“Sebastian?” I call out, but I don’t hear a reply. Stepping further down the hall, I hear the sound of water running.
Any rational person would turn around, respect someone else’s privacy and wait on the couch. But I can’t stop my feet from carrying me closer and closer towards the sound of the haunting music and running water coming from the bathroom. Doug nudges my leg, but I push him away, too invested in what I might discover to stop now.
Whatever he’s listening to is dark, the bass thumping through the air surrounding me as I step into his bedroom carefully. This space screamsSebastian. He's replaced the double bed and mismatched side tables with a dark wood king-sized platform bed piled with even darker linens. Everything about this man is shrouded in obscurity. I hate to admit how beautiful I find it all.
I take two steps closer to the bathroom, the music getting louder and louder. Something about acid and alkaline? The contrast between him and I just as obvious as the lyrics. His scent permeates the air in every inch of this apartment. The faint smell of coffee fades into the background, overpowered by his leather, rain, and bourbon, as if he’s just come in from outside, even when he hasn’t. Old boots. Old habits. Warm. Familiar.Expensive. He smells like money that doesn’t ask permission for anything. Like danger that’s learned the importance of patience. Like a man who doesn’t need to raise his voice to be obeyed. Steam billows from the open bathroom door, and my mind hesitates for only a moment before I step closer, the shower stall coming into view.
I don’t know what he’s listening to, but I definitely like it. Even through the condensation built up on the glass, I can see the outline of his perfectly sculpted body. I never realized just how completely covered in ink he is until this moment. There is barely any bare skin left on his torso or legs, intricate black swirls and skulls intermingled with dragons and daggers. He is truly a work of fucking art and muscle. Figures he would keep all of that covered with his pretentious wardrobe and not let anyone use him as eye candy. That’s just selfish.
Heat races through my body, and I feel betrayed by my own DNA. I don’t want him. He drives me fucking crazy. Like, punch-him-in-the-face-repeatedly-just-for-the-fun-of-it-crazy. But standing here, looking at this Adonis of a man literally lathered in soap and dripping wet in front of me…
“Fuck…” Did I say that out loud?
His gaze snaps to mine, and I know my eyes must be as wide as saucers right now. I’m fucking caught. There’s no denying I’m standing here ogling him. I brace for the impact, my eyes pinched tight, preparing for the slew of profanity and anger he will rightfully throw my way.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I panic, turning to rush out of the room and slamming my head into the frame of the bathroom door.
“Gesù Cristo!” I vaguely hear the sound of water turning off over the shrill ringing in my ears.
My ass hits the floor, arms and legs flailing as I sprawl out onto the tile. Immediately, my head throbs in pain, blood dripping from my nose. Before my head can fall back onto the tile, Sebastian catches me. The clean scent of him surrounds me, his damp skin warm where it meets mine.
“What the fuck are you doing, Vanessa?” He demands, his voice dark but sounding so far away.
The room tilts as I grip onto his forearm, his bare skin searing into my palm like liquid fire. As the world around me slowly comes back into view, so does my reality. Sebastian is inches away from me, cradling my head as gently as I’ve ever been touched, still dripping wet from the shower I interrupted,completely naked.
“Arggggaaahhh!!!” I yell, scooting back across the tile floor until my back hits the wall across the small room from him.
I’m literally eye-to-dick with the most extraordinary and imposing man I’ve ever seen in my entire life. He is over six feet of muscle, tattoos, darkness, and sarcasm, and all he can do is smirk back at me. I have clearly bitten off far more than I can chew when it comes to everything involving this man.
Slapping my hand over my eyes, I try to ignore the sound of his devious chuckle in the background. Peeking through my fingers, I watch him stand, his unfortunately impressive cock lengthening more and more at my discomfort. Squeezing my eyes tightly again, I try to ignore the heat building in my core.
I don’t want him, I don’t want him, I do not fucking want him.
God, I want him so badly it physically hurts.
The sound of him moving through the small space is unsettling. I want to open my eyes, to know exactly where this predator is stalking, but I’m too afraid. My heart pounds in my chest, seconds dragging by as we’re locked in this moment.
“Look at me, Bambina.” He commands, and I have no choice but to obey. Against my better judgement, my eyes mapping the length of his body until I meet his gaze. He stands in front of me, so close I could trace every tattoo with my fingertips if I wanted to. He doesn’t necessarily look angry, more stern. Like I’m going to be punished for such an intrusion.
“Get up.” He doesn’t offer assistance, just stands in front of me, uncomfortably close and still so incredibly naked. How is he so at ease in his own skin this way?
Scrambling to my feet, I attempt to back away from him again, but the heat in his eyes halts me in my tracks. He steps closer to me, so close that our bodies are millimeters from touching. His erection barely grazes the waistband of my linen pants, and I shiver. His head dips low, his lips only a breath away from mine. My heart is practically breaking through my ribcage, all the anticipation of the last few weeks boiling to the surface. My skin flushes, sweat beading across my hairline as he grips my neck, leaning my head back to look into my eyes. Fuck, the man is euphoric.