Chapter 37
SEBASTIAN
The rain hammered against the windows of my bungalow like it was trying to break in and join the party. There was enough nervous energy to power half of Miratoa.
Bernadette was sitting in one of the chairs, her legs curled up under her as she stared at her phone and snacked on chips. And she’d never looked hotter.
I had to physically restrain myself from reaching over and touching her. That would be crossing a line we’d drawn, and I was trying—really fucking trying—to be a gentleman about this.
Even if it was killing me.
“Any news?” I asked.
She looked serious. “The radar looks like it’s going to miss us. We’re just getting the outer bands.”
“That’s good, right?” I asked, even though I’d refreshed my own weather app about forty times in the last hour.
“Good is relative when you’re talking about tropical storms.” She tucked a strand of copper hair behind her ear. I watched it immediately fall back out.
“What’s your gut feeling?”
“Oh man, I wouldn’t want to guess. I’m not a meteorologist.”
I chuckled. “You’re not under oath, Bernadette. It’s okay to guess.”
“Then I think we’re in the clear.”
“Thank God.” I knew it made me a terrible person, possibly even worse than Dash, but I couldn’t bring myself to care as much as I should about a dangerous storm coming at us and ruining the runway show.
Because Bernadette was here. In my bungalow. Wearing one of my shirts. Her hair was a mess. Makeup smeared. And she looked perfect.
She looked like she belonged here.
“Sebastian?” Her voice cut through my thoughts. “Did you hear me?”
“Sorry, what?”
She gave me that look—the one that said she knew exactly where my mind had wandered and she was choosing to let it slide. “I said Elizabeth texted. Everyone’s accounted for and secured in their bungalows. No one’s being stupid.”
“Except Rico, who got shipped out this morning.” I couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of my voice.
“Good riddance.” She stretched, and the T-shirt rode up just enough to show a strip of skin at her waist. I looked away before I turned into Rico.
She grabbed one of the individually wrapped cookies and took a bite. “Glad we snuck these,” she said. “I don’t think she’d be happy to know I was eating one of her precious cookies.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. That woman would probably bake you a cake in the middle of a hurricane.”
“She’s protective.”
“She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you anymore. She just needed time to see what I see.”
The power had flickered twice already, so we’d preemptively lit a few candles. It made everything feel more intimate, like we were the only two people in the world.
And then the power went out.
“And there we go,” I said.
“Yep.”
I stretched my legs out in front of me and leaned my head back against the couch. She was in her chair, but it didn’t matter. I was still calm. Just being in her presence settled my soul.
And after a couple of sleepless nights, I felt my body settling. I closed my eyes. The rain beat down and I could hear the wind battering the side of the bungalow.
I must have dozed off because when I came to, Bernadette was curled up against me. Her head rested on my chest, one hand against my stomach. Her breathing was slow and even, and dammit, she smelled so good. Not perfume. It was the smell of the island and it smelled so fresh on her.
I was wide awake now, every nerve ending firing, my body very much aware of the soft weight of her pressed against me. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to ease out from under her, grab a blanket, let her sleep.
But I’d never been all that great at being a gentleman. And she had made the move to come to me. That was a sign.
My hand moved before my brain could stop it, fingers threading through her hair. She made a small sound and shifted closer, and holy hell, I was in trouble.
“Sebastian?”
“Yeah?”
“What time is it?”
“Late. Or early. Hard to tell.”
She tilted her head up, and even in the darkness, I could see her eyes. They were huge and dark and looking at me like I was something more than just a fuckup model who’d gotten lucky with good genes and a famous last name.
“We should check the weather,” she said.
“Probably.”
Neither of us moved.
“Sebastian?”
“Yeah, Bernadette?”
Nothing. But I didn’t need the words.
I kissed her. If she slapped me away, so be it.
But she didn’t slap me. She kissed me back and the next thing I knew she was straddling me.
My hands immediately went up her shirt, sliding over hot, silky skin.
Oh shit. She wasn’t wearing a bra. My hands massaged her breast, tweaking her nipples with my thumb and forefinger while she moaned into my mouth.
She broke the kiss. Her eyes locked on mine as she slid down my body. My heart hammered against my ribs as she settled between my legs, her hands already working at the waistband of my joggers.
“Bernadette,” I whispered, but whatever half-formed thought I’d had evaporated when she freed me from the confines of the fabric.
“Shh,” she whispered. “I’ve been thinking about this all night.”
And then her mouth was on me.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
My head fell back against the couch, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure shot through every nerve ending. Her tongue traced along my length, teasing, exploring, like she had all the time in the world to learn exactly what made me lose my mind.
And she was succeeding.
“Jesus,” I breathed, my hands fisting in the couch cushions because I didn’t trust myself to touch her. Not yet. If I did, I’d lose what little control I had left.
She took me deeper. I could feel the back of her throat with the tip of my cock.
I couldn’t stop the groan that tore from me.
I could hear the wind outside and the occasional clap of thunder, but all I could focus on was the wet heat of her mouth wrapped around my hard length.
Her tongue swirled and flicked. She made the most erotic noises that vibrated right through me.
My hand found its way into her hair. She looked up at me through her lashes. Those eyes. God, those eyes were going to be the death of me. They were dark and hungry and so fucking beautiful it hurt.
“Bernadette,” I managed, my voice rough. “You’re killing me.”
She pulled back just enough to speak, her breath hot against my skin. “Good.”
Then she took me deeper than before, and I was done. Completely, utterly done. My fingers tightened in her hair—not pulling, just holding on for dear life as she worked me with a skill and enthusiasm that made my vision blur.
She wasn’t tentative or shy about it. She was confident.
She wasn’t racing for the finish line. My woman was taking her time to figure out exactly what made my breath catch and my hips jerk.
When she found a spot just beneath the head where her tongue could do devastating things, she focused there until I was practically shaking.
“Fuck, Bee,” I gasped. “I’m not—I can’t.”
She didn’t stop. If anything, she doubled down, one hand wrapping around the base while her mouth worked magic on the rest of me. The combination was too much, too good, and I felt the warning tingle at the base of my spine.
“Bernadette, I’m gonna—”
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her lips swollen and wet, and said, “I know.”
Then she took me back in her mouth and I was gone. The orgasm hit me like a freight train, pleasure so intense it bordered on painful as I came apart completely. She stayed with me through all of it.
I was pretty sure I blacked out at some point. My eyes had rolled back in my head and there were definite visions of pearly gates.
When I opened my eyes, she was sitting on her haunches and looking at me like the cat that got the cream—pun intended.
“Damn, woman. I think I just had an out of body experience.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“Oh, I don’t think you want to thank me. I’m about to turn you inside out.”
Her sharp intake of breath was followed by her licking her lips. My shy Little Bee was definitely a firecracker in the bedroom.
I didn’t know how I did it, but I managed to get to my feet. I kicked off the boxers that were still around my ankles and pulled her up. I said nothing as I walked her to my bed.
“Get on your hands and knees,” I ordered.
She glanced at me with only a hint of hesitation, then did as I asked.
My hands slid up the backs of her thighs, pushing my T-shirt up her back until I could take it off.
She was still wearing my sweatpants, so I hooked my fingers into the waistband and dragged them down slowly, revealing inch after inch of perfect skin.
“Sebastian,” she breathed. I loved the way my name sounded on her lips. Desperate. Needy.
“I’ve got you, Bee,” I murmured, running my hands over the curve of her ass. She was so fucking beautiful like this, on display for me, trembling with anticipation.
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the small of her back, then another one lower. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the sheets. I took my time, kissing and tasting every inch of her until she was practically shaking.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Sebastian, please.”
“Please what?” I asked, my fingers tracing patterns on her inner thighs.
“You know what.”
I did. But I wanted to hear her say it. I needed to hear it.
“Tell me what you want, Bernadette.”
“I want you inside me. Now.”
The words shot straight through me, igniting every nerve ending. I grabbed a condom from my nightstand, tore it open, and put it on so fast I could have won Olympic gold.
I positioned myself behind her, my hands gripping her hips as I lined myself up. The tip of my cock pressed against her entrance. She was so wet and ready for me.
I pushed in slowly, inch by excruciating inch, watching as she stretched around me. The feeling was indescribable—tight and hot and perfect. She made a half moan, half whimper that nearly undid me right there.
“Fuck, Bee,” I groaned, my fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave marks. “You feel so good.”
I started moving, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Slow at first, letting her adjust, letting us both savor the feeling. But slow wasn’t going to cut it for long. Not with the way she was pushing back against me, meeting every thrust.
I picked up the pace, my hips snapping forward harder, faster. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with her moans and my ragged breathing. The storm outside was nothing compared to the one building between us.
“Yes,” she gasped. “God, yes, just like that.”
I reached around, my fingers finding her clit and massaging. Her whole body tensed, then shuddered as I worked her in rhythm with my thrusts. I could feel her tightening around me, getting closer.
“That’s it, baby,” I murmured. “Let go. I want to feel you.”
She buried her face in the sheets, muffling her moans as I drove into her harder. My free hand slid up her spine, gathering her hair in my hand and tugging. I was close. Again. She made me feel like I was eighteen. Hell, I was already thinking about the next time.
“Sebastian!”
Her body squeezed mine and I was lost. There was no holding back and trying to make it last longer. I was a goner.
Afterward, we lay tangled together in my bed, both of us breathing hard, both of us grinning like idiots. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this good.
Maybe never.
“I don’t hear the wind and rain as bad,” she said.
I listened. “Me either. Maybe you scared it away with all that screaming.”
She slapped my chest. “Rude. And I was not screaming.”
“Oh baby, you were definitely screaming.”
“It’s not polite to critique.”
“If I was going to critique, I would say you were amazing. That was so fucking hot. And if you give me another five minutes, I’m going to make you scream again. I’ll record it this time as proof.”
“The hell you will.” She pushed away from me.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“I want to check the weather.”
“Wow. That’s not the compliment I was going for.”
She ignored me. She came back less than thirty seconds later with a huge smile.
“Are you smiling because of post-coital bliss or are you smiling because you’re ready to go again?”
She laughed. “The storm turned away from us. Sebastian, we’re clear. The show can go on.”
“Good. That’s awesome. That means we’re going to have to be up in a couple of hours to start working.”
She put her phone down and climbed back into bed. “We should probably get some sleep.”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead. I’m fucking you now.”