Chapter 12 #2
“Hold on!” Sebastian shouted, laughing. I wasn’t fooled. He sounded nervous too. Maybe a little scared. But it was the good kind, the exhilarated kind. This time, when he touched my bare knee, I covered his hand with mine and inched it higher because, my God, what a rush.
By the time it was over, I was shaking again, but for a different reason. Adrenaline pumped through my system, flooding me with every rapid beat of my heart. The world around me was sharper, clearer. I had never felt so alive.
There was no way I could stand around and not do something about it.
I spent too damn long trying to play it safe.
Look where it got me now—wanting somebody with every fiber of my being but holding him at arm’s length, thinking that would do something to help me forget, to make it easier.
There was no such thing. All avoiding him did was make life that much more of a challenge. I was so tired of challenges.
The next group climbed in, adjusting their shoulder harnesses and belts. There was a lot of cheering, whistling, and plenty of encouragement shouted, meaning there was no one paying attention as I touched Sebastian’s back, waiting until he looked down at me.
Whatever shone from my face changed something in his. “Yes?” he asked, arching an eyebrow while turning his full attention my way.
What was I supposed to say? How could I tell him what I was thinking, feeling, needing? I only needed one word, nearly whispered, so he would be the only one to hear. “Later.” A slow smile spread over his gorgeous face with a slight nod, then turned back to watch the next group.
Shit. What have I done?
My attention was split throughout the rest of the outing until we found our seats in the theater at Planet Hollywood. Everyone was excited, laughing softly, almost giddy. Were we all so desperate for a day off? It was refreshing to be out of the kitchen.
My laughter was nervous more than anything. Sebastian sat at the other end of our row, engaged in conversation with Allie and a few of the other line cooks. When he wasn’t acting like a pompous dick, he had a warm, amiable personality.
Yet the glance we shared as the lights went down was anything but friendly. The only warmth it inspired centered in my core and made my pussy throb. He wasn’t about to let me forget what I had started earlier. I didn’t want to.
The show was exciting—the lights, music, and dancers were top-notch.
What a shame I could barely pay attention, especially when every glance down the row revealed Sebastian looking my way.
He wasn’t obvious about it, thank God, but he was definitely watching me from the corner of his eye while everyone in our row and the one in front of us sat riveted to the action onstage.
It was now or never. I waited until I was sure he was looking, then stood with my purse in hand.
After holding his gaze for a beat, I headed through the doors at the back of the theater and followed the signs directing visitors to the nearby restrooms. My knees were shaking by the time I ducked inside the ladies’ room, and my heart threatened to explode, but I kept going because there was nothing I had ever wanted more.
Not a Michelin Star, not the title of America’s Best Baker.
The memory of Sebastian’s hand stroking my knee was burned into my mind and refused to let me go.
But this? Sneaking off for a quickie? What was I doing?
No, I didn’t want to think about it. I wasn’t going to make that mistake.
I was going to act on my impulses. I was going to do it for me, not with my future goals in mind or any fear from the past holding me back.
I was going to live in the moment again.
He didn’t keep me waiting long, knocking softly at the door. I swung it open and pulled him inside. There was disbelieving laughter in his voice when he asked, “That’s all it takes to get you going? A near-death experience?”
The thing was, yes, that was exactly what it had taken to make things abundantly clear.
“You talk too much,” I whispered, boosting myself onto the marble countertop beside the sink.
Hiking my sundress up around my thighs got the point across, convincing him this was no joke, and a brief smile flashed across his face before he almost crashed against me.
This time, though, he pulled me down from the counter and turned me in place, bending me over it instead.
I had the pleasure of watching him in the mirror, his face contorted by lust when just moments ago, he was laughing.
His hot, greedy hands ran up my thighs, taking the dress with them until it was up around my waist. His caress was white-hot, yet it made me shiver with every stroke of his fingers over my ass.
“If I touch this pussy…” he whispered, meeting my gaze in the mirror, “… would it be wet? Hot and wet and excited?”
“God, yes,” I whispered, arching my back, thrusting my ass into the air. It was true. Going on that ride had done something to me, something that needed to be capitalized on.
When he pulled my thong aside and dipped his fingers between my swollen, shaved lips, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from shouting my approval.
His hand covered my mouth, muffling what I couldn’t hold back while he rubbed me with a quick, skilled rhythm that left me grinding against his fingers, desperately searching for release.
I had never known a thrill like this. In public, where anybody could find us together, where they could walk in and witness him taking control of me. Control I so happily handed over.
“Filthy girl,” he grunted, working his fingers inside me, strumming my clit with his thumb. My teeth sank into his finger, and he hissed before chuckling. “Hurt me,” he invited, fucking me with two thick digits until I couldn’t think or breathe and could do nothing but shatter in helpless abandon.
“Oh, good girl,” he growled, working me slowly now, dragging it out before withdrawing his fingers. Fingers which he then held to my mouth while he took his hand away. “Taste yourself. Taste what I’ve tasted.”
There was something profane about it—dirty—which could have been why I liked it so much.
I extended my tongue, dragged it over his wet fingers, picking up my essence.
Looking at his reflection, I saw longing etched in every line of his face in the way his gray eyes narrowed as he watched and the breaths that came through parted lips.
“Fuck me, please,” I begged, spreading my legs wider, pushing back against him. He had to before somebody found us. My heart raced, and fresh wetness leaked from me while I waited for him to get ready with a condom.
Thank God he covered my mouth again before impaling me, or else we would have been in trouble.
As it was, there was no being silent, not in the face of the almost unbearable pleasure of having him inside me, moving hard, fast, grinding his teeth as he took me like an animal.
So deep, so hard, rocking me back and forth in a quickening rhythm that made it impossible to do anything but give myself over to sheer, primal lust.
“Fuck… Claudia… tight…” he whispered, rutting now, losing his rhythm entirely. I didn’t care. I liked it. Watching him take me hard and fast, my pleasure doubling, tripling, leaving me pushing back against his strokes until we both went stiff. Still.
Then it broke, leaving me shuddering while he leaned against me for support. Incredible. Unreal.
But it was very real, wasn’t it? The proof was in every flutter of my pussy as my orgasm faded, the lingering taste of my juices on my tongue, and in the wicked light gleaming in Sebastian’s eyes.
“Remind me to take you on the Bigshot next time,” he whispered, zipping his fly, washing his hands while wearing a sly grin.
“And now, back to the show. Give me a minute before you follow.”
The thing was, I wouldn’t have minded going on the Bigshot with him or on any other thrill ride. I wouldn’t have minded experiencing the thrill of fucking like mad in a public restroom again, either. Not when the aftermath was so damn good.
Unexpected, inexplicable, but so good.
It seemed Sebastian Kennedy was determined to teach me all sorts of things about myself.