Chapter 14 #2
At first, he moved the cloth over me slowly, taking his time, each stroke torturously drawn out.
But after a while, the patience wore thin, and his restraint gave way as he finally shifted my legs, leaving no room for hesitation and parting my lips with his fingers.
“Oh!” I groaned. The electricity of his touch paired with his quicker, ragged breathing, betrayed his need while he took care of mine.
I gasped and shuttered, jerking my hips to meet his skillful touch, whimpering my approval when he toyed with the aching, burning bundle of nerves.
“So fucking beautiful like this.” He teased my earlobe with his tongue before grazing it with his teeth and doubling the unspeakable pleasure tearing me apart. “Are you going to give it to me? Are you going to let me hear you fucking scream?”
I didn’t have a choice. There was no holding back, not that I wanted to.
I wanted all of it, every ounce of sensation, every sizzling thrill his touch brought to my body.
For one brief, breathless moment, it occurred to me I had lived all my life without this, and the thought was almost enough to bring tears to my eyes as I climbed higher and higher.
“Let go,” he demanded, his breath coming hot and fast. “Come for me so I can fuck you. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes!” I pleaded, not caring anymore about my pride. Nothing mattered but this. Getting what I wanted. Getting him.
And when I did come, shattering into a million pieces, he groaned softly in approval.
“That feel good?” I could only moan in affirmation while he stood and grabbed another big, fluffy towel.
Rather than helping me from the tub so I could dry off, he stood me up, wrapped the towel around me, and then lifted me across his arms.
“What are you doing?” I asked, still a little dizzy, a little breathless.
He got straight to the point. “Taking you to bed so I can make good on my promise.”
This was a night of firsts—being bathed by Sebastian and now lying back against his padded headboard while he rubbed my feet post-sex. Was my hand still throbbing? Quite a bit. It was almost the last thing on my mind, though.
And if a burned hand meant this kind of treatment, while it was painful and annoying, it was almost worth it.
He was at his most relaxed, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, his dark hair nearly black as it slowly dried.
I had the pleasure of admiring his chest, broad shoulders, thighs, and calves.
The man was a walking ode to the male form and might have been proof there was a God.
Or maybe that was all the endorphins running through my system, thanks to him.
“Oh, right there,” I whispered, my head falling back when he applied pressure to my arch with his thumbs. “How the hell are you so good at this?”
“You don’t know by now? I’m good at everything.” I twitched my foot playfully like I was going to kick him, and he only laughed.
“I can think of a couple of things you’re not good at…” I couldn’t help it, I had to say it. “Like communication.” There were still unresolved issues that not even the best foot rub could erase. “Are you ever going to tell me what today was about? Don’t you trust me yet?”
“Don’t you trust me?” he countered, making me groan in frustration rather than pleasure. He always had a comeback, didn’t he?
“Really. Consider it curiosity,” I insisted, adjusting the sheet over my naked body while leaving my legs bare. “What happened? I’m never going to let this go until you tell me. I’m just warning you now.”
With a sigh, he switched feet, taking his time before asking, “Remember when we went to dinner? You met Kristoff Darden.” He was clearly troubled, his voice deeper and quieter than previously.
The memory brought to mind a used car salesman. The guy had struck me as being roughly that sincere. “Sure. What does that have to do with anything?”
“As it turns out, Marissa worked for Kristoff. He put her through culinary school.”
Interesting, but still. “I’m lost. What does that have to do with anything?”
“A friend of mine did some digging for me as a favor. He managed to make a few connections between Kristoff and the sabotage that’s been going on…
the surprise inspection, the issues with the union permits.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he started the rumors about food poisoning.
And it all started after I announced the expansion. ”
Now I felt sick because it was all so clear. “You’re afraid Marissa was sent in to spy on you or sabotage you,” I concluded after taking a deep breath to calm the sudden rush of rage when I recalled laughing with her, sharing jokes, and working together.
“Exactly. Grayson’s guys followed Kristoff and overheard the two of them making plans. If you’d gone into my office earlier the way I asked, I would’ve shown you the photos. The two of them were out on a date more than once.”
“That bitch. And that fucking dick!” I didn’t know there were people like them in the real world. There I was, thinking Brandon was the biggest asshole I ever knew. Even he wouldn’t go to the lengths Kristoff had.
“The way I saw it, there hasn’t been open animosity between us for years. He’s been giving me that act he gave us the night you met him. Water under the bridge and all that shit.”
“What did you do? I mean, no offense, but really. What was so bad he had to do this?”
I didn’t expect a straight answer and wouldn’t have been surprised if he offered none at all.
“They weren’t even dating,” he snickered, shocking me with his openness.
“The girl. Rachel, her name was. They worked together in a kitchen. He was obsessed with her. Kept telling me she was the one. They went out once or twice, but she didn’t seem interested in anything more.
He told me that and wondered what he could do differently to change her mind. ”
I could have told the loser a woman’s mind didn’t work that way. We couldn’t be coerced, worn down, and even if we could, there wouldn’t be anything real behind it. Wearing a woman down wasn’t exactly something to be proud of.
“Then we met one night when I caught up with them after my shift,” he continued.
“I was going to school during the day and working as a line cook at night. I knew right away she wanted me and not him. She practically groped me and laughed it off like she was drunk when I didn’t go for it.
I’m not trying to be a dick,” he added. “That kind of shit has always bored me.”
Was that why he didn’t fall under Hadley’s spell? Interesting. I was wondering since she did everything but lie on her back and throw her legs into the air, but I didn’t want to come straight out and ask. It would have been rude, not to mention maybe be a little bitchy.
“Kristoff noticed and freaked out when that happened,” he continued.
“Right away, he tried to make another move on her. He had to claim what he saw as his property. She wasn’t interested and told him off in front of the entire bar.
He blamed me, even when I wasn’t interested in her.
He wouldn’t hear it. He couldn’t imagine me not wanting her.
Fucking pathetic.” There was a growl in his voice by the time he finished mixed with disdain.
“And that’s it? He would go to all this trouble because some girl rejected him?”
“I’m telling you, he was convinced she was ‘the one.’ ” He made finger quotes and rolled his eyes.
“They were going to work side by side in the kitchen for the rest of their lives. When I graduated with my business degree, Nonna and my parents helped me pull together the money for the restaurant. I know I’m lucky,” he added solemnly.
“Not everyone has that opportunity. He took it personally. I heard through mutual acquaintances he decided he was going to outdo me by opening a restaurant of his own.”
“But he hasn’t because you actually had the passion,” I concluded.
“Claudia Granger.” There was teasing awe in his voice. “Did I just hear you call me passionate?”
Kicking gently, I retorted, “You really know how to take a compliment and beat it into the ground, don’t you?” I had to laugh along with him, breaking the tension in the air after his story ended.
His laughter died all at once, like muting the volume on a radio. “I’m telling you, honest to God, I didn’t do a damn thing to antagonize him,” he insisted, serious again, gazing at me from the other end of the bed.
“I believe you.” He didn’t look convinced, leaving me to stare at him in surprise. “I mean it. I believe you.” I sensed his concern with my opinion. I saw it in his steady, intense stare. Why is it so important to him that I believed him?
“Thank you.” A smile tugged the corners of his mouth, almost sheepish. It made him look younger. “Somehow, knowing you believe me makes a difference. I’m no angel, but I’m not an asshole. Not that kind of asshole,” he amended when I couldn’t hide a smirk.
“Sorry, but you know you can be.” I pulled my feet back when he reached out, growling like he was about to tickle them.
“And Kristoff is a petty little bitch.” Now, I wished I hadn’t been so nice to him when he introduced himself.
The dick. Going to all this trouble over a grudge when the girl wasn’t even into him. What a loser.
“Just for that, I will not take your feet,” he decided.
Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Oh, thank you.”
I should have known better.
All at once, he grabbed them, holding my ankles under one arm and tickling the soles until I screamed and squirmed, begging for mercy.
Not that I really wanted him to stop.
Not when it felt this nice and natural.
When was the last time somebody had taken care of me?
It was a question that echoed in the back of my mind long after we decided to call it a night. It wasn’t like I was in a hurry to fall asleep since a very big part of me wanted to live in the moment, the small spoon to his much bigger spoon.
How was it that Sebastian Kennedy, of all people, knew exactly what I needed and how I needed it?