Chapter 10
ten
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 screams Sebastian. 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.
“Get. Out.” He grits, pushing me backwards through the open doorframe before kicking the door shut.
Fuck, I hate this man.
Collapsing onto the couch, I cover my face with my arm. Why the hell did I even go in there? Doug climbs onto the couch, and I attempt to shove him off, but he lays his solid body on top of mine, squeezing the air from my lungs.
“Geez, Dougy. You’re squashing me.” I say, scratching behind his ears. He just releases a sigh.
The heavy thud of footsteps sounds down the hallway, and my eyes snap open.
I don’t look away from the ceiling, counting the boards one by one in an attempt to disappear from his view.
He shuffles around in the kitchen, and I listen to the cacophony of glasses clinking, water running, and cabinet doors closing, knowing there’s still some distance between us for only a moment.
He comes into the living room, sitting in the chair across from me in a pair of sweats hung low on his hips.
Apparently, there’s no need for him to bother with a shirt since I’ve seen more than enough of his body now.
His gaze sears into me even though I'm not looking his way.
“Sit up, Vanessa. We need to talk.” He demands.
I huff out a breath, swinging my legs down and sitting up.
Hugging a pillow to my chest, I let my head fall back, staring back at the ceiling.
For the life of me, I cannot look this man in the face.
Not after I’ve been inches from his magnificent dick and then tossed out of the room like trash.
“Knock it off. Look at me. We’re both adults here.
You felt adult enough to barge into my private bedroom, I think you can be adult enough to have a conversation while looking me in the eye.
” he says, and I groan, finally meeting his eyes.
My face flushes immediately. Heat floods through my body, but this time I stand my ground.
“I’m sorry, okay? I just…I’m sorry,” I throw up my hands, and Doug scoots his head into my lap.
“How’s your nose? Your head?” He asks, and I flinch, embarrassment evident on my face, I’m sure.
“I’ll be fine.” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Very well. Please explain what brought you to my door last night.” He asks, and my stomach drops.
“Someone was in my house again. I know you and my friends all think I’m crazy, but I’m not.
I don’t lock Doug out of the bedroom. Not ever.
But he was locked out again. And things around my house are moved when I wake up.
There’s just this sense of…I don’t know.
It’s like I can feel him there.” The last words come out in almost a whisper, and I’m embarrassed by the way it makes me feel.
I hate the confusion I feel every time my masked man creeps into my home.
“And what do you feel?” he asks, an intrigued look on his face.
I squirm under his gaze. I don’t even want to admit to myself what I feel when the masked man touches me, much less tell Sebastian. So, I do the only thing I can in this moment. I lie.
“Fear. I’m scared.” My tone is clipped, and I look away, not able to lie to his face as easily as I thought.
“And?” he pushes, and I shift in my seat. Doug groans, my movements annoying him.
“And what? What do you want me to say, Sebastian? I don’t want this person in my house.
I don’t want this person to potentially follow me to my friends’ houses and put their children in danger.
You were the only person I could think of who seemed like a safe place I could turn to.
” I reply, hopeful he will drop this subject.
“What do you know about this man, Vanessa?” He asks, pulling out his phone.
“Nothing. Honestly, it feels like less than nothing. I know his mask isn’t normal, like a burglar’s or anything like that.
It’s more…ornate. Delicate. Like something I made up in a dream.
The only thing I can ever see is his mouth.
It’s not covered. And his eyes. I can see them, even though they’re obscured.
I can feel them on my skin. He feels like he wants to hurt me and worship me all at once.
” I say, losing myself in the memories of the masked man.
“Maybe he does,” Sebastian’s deep voice cuts through the fog, pulling me back to reality.
“What? How can you say that?” I snap, and he smirks.
“Love and pain are two sides of the same blade. You can treasure someone as your most prized possession and still enjoy bringing them a little pain, Vanessa. If this man is real, maybe he enjoys bringing you such fear because it excites him.” He suggests, and an uncomfortable feeling brews inside my chest.
I don’t want to agree with what he's saying, but the idea stirs something within me I never thought I would feel. I’ve never entertained the desires inside me that always scream to be heard, to be unleashed and allowed to roam free.
The realization grips me like a hand closing around my throat without any pressure, just the certainty it won’t let me go.
As afraid as I am about someone creeping through my space in the middle of the night, I can’t deny the way it turns me on.
“I don’t-” I open my mouth to give him another bullshit excuse, but fire blazes in his eyes.
“Do not lie to me, Bambina. Do you think I’m some stupid boy, barely capable of recognizing the look of lust in your eyes just now?
You crave that darkness, just as I and many others do.
There’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing is wrong with you.
But do not look me in my face and feed me more lies about how much of a good girl you are, Vanessa.
It doesn’t suit you. You want to be bad?
Be bad. But you own it. Don’t tiptoe around the idea, don’t dabble, jump in with both feet and let it drag you into the depths of the darkness you crave.
You may be surprised just how much you belong down here.
” He smirks, and I want to deny the things he says, but I can’t.
He’s only saying out loud all the things I’ve been thinking as long as I’ve been old enough to experience any relationship. I’ve always been more than curious about the different ways pain and pleasure can mix in perfect harmony. But I’ve never felt comfortable admitting that even to myself.
“I can see by the emotions fighting for control in your eyes, I’ve given you so much to think about.
You can stay here, although I believe you should have better security in your home.
I’ll do my best to keep the door closed when I’m indisposed.
Wouldn’t want to have another mishap, would we?
” His devious smile tells me he’s getting far too much enjoyment from making me this uncomfortable, and I want to slap that stupid grin off his face.
But he’s offering me his hospitality, and I don’t want to deny it.
“Thank you,” I grit through clenched teeth, my arms crossed over my chest like a petulant child.
“You’re welcome. I can’t imagine how many ways you’ll be at my mercy to show your thanks.” And just like that, the devil has brought me into his den. And I let him.