Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
SASHA
“So what movie do you want to watch first?” Sebastian asks, casting a sweeping glance over the array of food spread across the coffee table in the manor living room.
We couldn’t agree on what to eat from the food carts, so the table is covered with polystyrene containers filled with pretzels, pizza, mini burgers, bratwurst and potato fritters, along with some gingerbread cookies for dessert.
“What were you planning to watch with Charlotte?”
Sebastian shrugs, tearing off a doughy chunk of pretzel. “We don’t usually plan anything. It’s whatever takes our fancy on the day.”
“I guess I wouldn’t mind watching Miracle on 34th Street .”
“The Richard Attenborough one or the original?”
“Hmm. I like both, though the newest one came out when I was a kid so there’s a lot of nostalgia wrapped up in that.”
“I’m the same about Santa Clause: The Movie . It was on TV every Christmas Eve growing up, but Charlotte always complains it’s too old.”
I can’t help but smile. I used to feel the same whenever my nan put on It’s a Wonderful Life , as if black and white movies were boring somehow, and it’s one of my favourites now. One of my Christmas traditions. Maybe it’s only an appreciation that comes with age.
“Is that the one with Dudley Moore?” I ask.
“Yes! Thank you. Finally someone knows what I’m talking about.”
“I love that one too. I always wanted one of those lollipops that made kids fly.”
“Me too.”
We share a smile, our mutual interests easing the earlier discomfort pinching the air.
Not that I feel uncomfortable in Sebastian’s company, at least not anymore. The difference between now and our first fake pub date is mind-blowing. But this is one of the first occasions we’ve spent time together without any justification for doing so. There’s no audience to play to, and no Edith to convince.
I’m here because I’ve chosen to be, because the look on Sebastian’s face when his daughter found better company made my heart clench. The way he insisted on me participating in today’s festival, always eager to lift my Christmas spirit in any way he can… I wouldn’t have done half the festive things these last few weeks if not for him.
Of course I’m here.
Something shifts the longer our gazes hold steady and our smiles fade. I want to look away, but I’m trapped somehow, weighed down by this cloak of awareness crackling between us.
I cannot move.
Sebastian yanks his gaze away first, clearing his throat while I stare resolutely at the TV wondering what the hell just happened.
Did I imagine it?
No.
I know I didn’t. Right?
“Right.” He grabs the remote and starts scrolling through the streaming services menu. “We’ll start with Miracle on 34th Street . If anything will make you feel Christmassy, it’ll be that.”
“I suppose it’s worth a try.”
“I’m gonna revive your Christmas spirit if it’s the last thing I do, Sasha. Trust me.”
My smile softens at the adamance of his tone. “That’s not necessary.”
“You help me, I help you, remember? We’re in this together.”
I nod and give him a playful elbow-nudge, grinning wider when he nudges me right back.
“Together.”
Sometime later, I’m warm and snuggly and floating on a cloud, when something grazes my wrist.
“Leave me alone,” I grumble, swatting at it.
A deep chuckle rumbles above me, and that touch travels up to my cheek and down to my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze.
Consciousness comes slowly, and I blink out of the syrupy haze of sleep to find Sebastian perched on the edge of my seat grinning down at me. One long arm is outstretched and propped on the back of the sofa, keeping me trapped in a cage of his shadow and his clean, outdoorsy scent.
“Hello, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, his expression so unbelievably soft my heart skips.
I can’t cope with him when he’s like this—hot and kind and smelling so good. How dare he?
“I fell asleep?”
“About halfway through A Christmas Carol . I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
“How long was I out?”
“Only an hour.”
“I’m so sorry!” I scramble to sitting, throwing the blanket off my legs. That hadn’t been there before. “I didn’t mean to do that. It’s so rude.”
“I always thought it a compliment—that you’re comfortable enough to fall asleep in someone else’s house, and you obviously needed it.”
He smooths a curl away from my face, rubbing the strands, and I can’t make out the look on his face or why his gaze seems almost worshipful.
That’s… That’s not right.
Is it?
“Are you not sleeping enough?” he asks then.
“What’s enough?”
“Sasha.”
I let out a sigh. “I’m always like this when I’m a bit stressed. It’s fine.”
“What’s stressing you?”
“What isn’t?” I grumble under my breath.
“You can talk to me.” His tone is almost too soft, the kind that might make me cry if I’m not careful.
“I think it’s time I leave.”
Sebastian seems disappointed by that but nods slowly, and stands to let me free. I shiver at the gush of colder air without his body heat close by.
“Thanks for such a lovely day,” I tell him, throwing on my coat and untucking my hair trapped beneath my scarf. “You don’t have to walk me out.”
His voice is deep and gruff when he says, “I was raised otherwise.”
To our surprise, we’re not alone when we step outside onto the porch. A silver car is parked on the driveway, the doors still wide open, like they just arrived. Charlotte hugs her friend Sara, while Edith chats away to Sara’s mum, although they’re too far to hear any specifics.
“Hey, Dad.” Charlotte beams once she notices us. “Sasha, you’re here!”
“Hey.” I wave awkwardly, unsettled by the unexpected audience. “Did you have a good time?”
‘The best. Chris Evans is so hot.”
“Oh my god,” Sebastian grumbles. “I thought I still had time before that started.”
I chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”
“Oh my god, Dad!” Charlotte calls out suddenly. “Look!”
We both follow her pointed direction to the long sprig of mistletoe tied with red ribbon and swaying above us in the icy breeze.
Oh no.
No!
“I… don’t remember putting that there.”
In fact, there was not a single piece of mistletoe in any of the decorations I put up a couple of weeks ago.
“You didn’t,” Sebastian says with a grimace. “A certain someone manipulated one of the crane workers into putting it up there for her.”
“Sounds like something Edith would do.”
“Right?”
The woman in question simply grins.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Charlotte shouts. “Kiss!”
“Charlie…”
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
Within seconds everyone else joins in, and the chant goes on and on, enough for Sebastian to cut a glare in his daughter’s direction. Charlotte laughs and shrugs, joining in on the claps and cheers growing louder by the second, while Edith looks like all her Christmases have come at once.
I’ve never been one to bend to peer pressure so I’m quite happy to let them carry on. But in the time I’ve taken to playfully roll my eyes at the tiny crowd, a gesture of yeah, yeah, whatever , Sebastian’s gaze has sharpened and he’s staring at my mouth like he doesn’t know whether to kiss it or fuck it and?—
Oh .
Something tugs low in my belly, followed by a clench between my thighs.
My body quite likes that idea… and apparently my body is running the show.
“Oh, why not?” I mutter, and grab the front of his shirt.
It takes a bit of effort to manoeuvre this mountain of a man, but I wrench him down to my level and draw his mouth to mine. It’s meant to be brief, a peck even, but Sebastian has other ideas.
The second our lips meet, he swarms in and steals all control, clamping me at the waist and pulling me close to his body and my god, what a body.
I’ve seen it from a distance, admired it many times over, but there’s something about feeling his solid weight that makes me weak at the knees. We’re plastered together, his broad chest smooshed against my breasts, and I follow the rumble of his groan as it travels up that fine chest and through his throat.
My fingers catch on the collar of his shirt and curl into fists to give myself some leverage, to meet this man with everything as he absolutely ravages my mouth.
It feels like a fight at this point, his giant hands spanning my back, digging into my curves, his tongue lashing with mine, and I meet him lick for lick, stroke for stroke.
It’s everything I imagined and more.
I don’t know who stops first or why, if a noise drags us apart or it simply reaches its natural end, but when we eventually pull away, chests heaving, mouths wet and red, the silence is almost unbearable.
Our gazes catch, and I’m driven by the need to wipe at my mouth just to get rid of the lingering tingly sensation that feels so much like a brand.
The movement draws Sebastian’s gaze there, and his throat shifts through a ragged swallow, and it’s only then that he seemingly realises he’s still clutching my waist.
He lets go immediately and we both stagger backwards, putting some distance between us, even if it feels very much like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted.
“Well,” Edith says, so stark in the silence it sounds like a shout. “Wasn’t that something.”
It was something alright.
My laughter sounds awkward and stilted to my own ears, and I glance at Sebastian feeling delirious and dazed.
There’s a ferocity as he stares down at me, and I can’t shake the feeling everything just changed.