Chapter 12 Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
The patio door handle doesn’t give when I test it, the resistance subtle but unmistakable. Andrew must have locked it while I was in the shower. Like locks are preventive measures meant to keep Ivy out.
I unlock it without hesitation, already knowing I’m not telling Drew. He’s nervous enough. No need to make it worse.
My brother’s door is shut. I don’t check on him. He’s wound tight enough to sleep through anything tonight. Exhaustion does that—wraps you in false security.
I move through my room, tugging off my shirt, then my pants, letting them fall where they land. Right on the floor where Ivy hates them.
The thought pulls a smirk from me.
She’ll fix it later.
I crawl into bed wearing only my boxers and reach over to switch off the lamp. Darkness settles in, familiar and heavy. I stare at the ceiling, hands folded loosely over my stomach, listening to the quiet of the house.
Waiting.
I tell myself it’s a habit. A regular nightly routine to lie awake like this.
But it’s a lie.
I didn’t start this behavior until a little over a month ago.
Until Ivy.
Hell, I’m not even bothered by her stalking me. I’m used to it.
Like earlier today. I had just finished a meeting downtown. One of those lunches where everyone talks too much and says nothing of value. Men with expensive watches and fragile egos, paying me to identify problems they don’t want to admit exist.
I cut through the underground parking garage instead of taking the elevator, phone pressed to my ear, mind already moving on to the next problem to solve.
That’s when I felt someone watching me. The kind of attention that presses between your shoulder blades—not threatening, just… aware.
I stopped beside my car and glanced up at the mirrored windows lining the ramp.
That’s when I saw her reflection.
She was standing near the stairwell, half-hidden by shadows. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders. She was watching me.
She didn’t pretend to check her phone when our eyes met through the glass. Didn’t look away.
She smiled.
I turned fully, but she was gone.
I returned to the office and finished a report.
When I left, a single white heart was drawn neatly on the light snow covering my windshield.
I stared at it for a moment, already knowing who it was from.
I shift slightly now, the sheets rustling, my eyes still fixed on the ceiling. I should have shut it down then. Called it in. Changed my routine. Locked my doors.
But I didn’t.
I started noticing when she was there. And when she wasn’t. The house felt wrong without her.
A soft sound pulls my attention back to the present. The faintest whisper of movement outside on the balcony.
My mouth curves, slow and knowing.
Ivy is never loud when she comes to me.
I keep my eyes open, breathing steady, heart rate unchanged as the night holds its breath.
I stare at the ceiling and wait for her to appear, knowing I’ll close my eyes and pretend to sleep once she gets closer.
There’s something about her attention that gets to me in a way no one else ever has.
She slips inside, the cool night air blowing across my bed. She’s quiet as she comes around and slides in beside me.
“Ivy,” I say in a warning.
“Shhh.” She strokes my hair. “I’m just making sure you don’t have any more nightmares.”
I stare at her in the darkness. “Nightmares?”
“You had one last night. You were tossing and turning, muttering something about it being ‘all your fault.’ When I crawled into bed and stroked your hair, you calmed down.”
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“Good.” She’s stroking my head in that way of hers that almost makes me purr like a kitten. “Now go to sleep. You have an early morning tomorrow.”
My eyes are too heavy to argue with her.
Why does she bring me peace? But I drift away before I can analyze it.
My bare feet are cold against the old, wooden floor. Despite the quiet, my heart hammers against my chest.
I don’t know why I’m awake. Or why I feel so scared. But something heavy hangs in the air.
“D-dad?” My voice shakes.
No answer.
I swallow hard, but my mouth’s still dry.
A shuffling sound follows, and I freeze for a moment.
“D-dad? Is that you?”
Silence.
My pulse thrums beneath my skin with every step I take, heading toward the patch of light coming from the open door.
I slowly poke my head around the corner.
There’s a sharp click and then—
Bang!
My ears ring. The metallic scent of blood fills my nose.
I blink, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
It can’t be.
My feet are rooted to the floor as I stare at the gun.
I shoot straight up in bed, breath tearing out of my chest like I’ve been running. My heart is a weapon in my ribs. My hands are shaking. My skin is slick with sweat.
“Sebastian.” Her voice cuts through the darkness immediately.
Ivy sits up beside me and puts her hand on my arm—warm, real, grounding.
I don’t think. I just grab her, hauling her against me like she might disappear if I don’t.
She doesn’t flinch.
Her arms come around me without hesitation, one hand sliding up my back, the other cradling the back of my head. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
My chest heaves from my ragged breathing. I cling to her like I’m afraid the bed might give way beneath me.
She holds me. Grounds me.
Her fingers gently stroke my hair, and something in my chest cracks open. The panic eases. The shaking fades.
What’s left is heat. Awareness.
The press of her body against mine.
I realize, distantly, that she’s in my lap.
I pull back just enough to look at her.
Her eyes are soft. Focused on me like I’m the only thing in the room.
“You okay?” she asks quietly.
I swallow. “I was.”
It’s not an answer. She knows it.
Her thumb brushes across my cheek, the touch gentle. Intimate. The contact snaps the last shred of my resistance.
I exhale, slower this time, and lean forward before I can overthink it.
My mouth presses against hers.
The kiss isn’t frantic. It’s deep. Intentional.
Her lips part immediately, like she was waiting for it. Her hands slide up my chest, then around my neck, pulling me closer.
I kiss her like I need proof I’m alive.
She responds like she understands that.
Her mouth moves with mine, slow at first, then deeper. Hungrier.
She shifts her core, settling right over my hard cock. The friction pulls a low sound from my throat before I can stop it.
“Sebastian,” she breathes.
That single word wrecks me.
My hands move before my brain catches up—her waist, her back, her hips. I pull her closer and flip her onto the bed. I cover her, pressing her into the mattress, into me. She arches instinctively, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
This isn’t comfort anymore. This is need.
I trail my mouth down her jaw, her throat, feeling her pulse jump beneath my lips. She gasps when my teeth graze her skin, her nails scraping lightly down my back in response.
“Stay,” I murmur, my voice rough.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
My body is fully awake now—wanting, demanding. My restraint is hanging by a thread, and Ivy knows it. I feel it in the way her hands slide lower, wrapping around my darkness. I groan from the contact.
“Touch me, Sebastian.”
I growl, tearing her leggings down her legs. Her panties follow.
And then I’m staring at her bare, shaved pussy.
She opens her legs for me without hesitation, trusting and desperate.
My hand moves to her clit, teasing it lightly, before sliding to her heat. She’s soaked, craving my touch.
She moans, and I feel it more than I hear it.
I move carefully at first, studying her to see how she likes to be touched. I slide one, then another finger inside her, moving faster as the moment takes on its own rhythm.
Her body responds instantly, arching against me. Breaking apart beneath my touch.
“Yes,” she breathes. “Just like that.”
A part of me knows I shouldn’t be doing this. But the thought barely registers before it disappears completely.
I lose myself in the sound of her, the way her body tightens around my fingers, the way she says my name like it means something dangerous.
My lips are buried against her neck, my hand tormenting and teasing her.
She comes apart with a gasp, my name breaking from her lips like a confession.
“Fuck, baby.” I keep moving my fingers in and out, wanting to make her break again and again. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
Her hand wraps around me. I groan, wanting more.
I help her pull my sweatpants and boxers down, moaning when she wraps a hand around me and begins stroking with the same unfiltered urgency that I’m touching her with.
“Feels so good,” I murmur against her lips. “You’re gonna make me come.”
“Yes. Come on me.”
My body shakes as I fight the orgasm, wanting this to last.
But then, her head falls back and her legs shake as she comes on my hand again.
The sight of her coming has my release hitting hard and fast, leaving me shaking, breathless, and pressed against her like gravity pulled me there.
When it’s over, I still.
I pull my hand away slowly. Carefully.
Our breathing fills the quiet room.
“Ivy,” Her name is a plea and a caress.
“What?” she whispers.
I rest my forehead against hers, forcing myself to breathe.
“If we keep going,” I say quietly, “I won’t stop.”
Her pupils are blown wide. Her lips part.
She nods. “Okay.”
That word grounds me more than anything else.
I kiss her again—slower this time. Controlled. My hands stay at her waist, firm, possessive, but restrained.
“Whatever you want, Sebastian.”
The words make me pause.
It would be so easy to take her. Right here. Right now.
But I don’t.
She deserves better than this. More than I can ever give her.
Because even though she stalks me, I know she’s special. Rare.
Eventually, I roll onto my side, pulling her with me. She curls into my chest like she belongs there, her head tucked beneath my chin.
My hand stays on her back.
Her fingers rest over my heart.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. I stare at the ceiling for hours, my past running through my head. My present lying in my arms. Something I don’t deserve and shouldn’t want.
Before I doze off, I murmur against her hair, “You deserve better than me.”