20. Sebastian
Chapter twenty
Sebastian
“You ready to go?” I ask Sutton a number of hours after we said our vows, draping my arm around her and shifting in my seat to move closer to her.
I haven’t been able to stop touching her all afternoon.
I keep telling myself it’s because we’re supposed to be in love—although the majority of the people here know it’s fake—but if I’m being honest, it’s because I want to touch her, and if the way she’s sagging into me right now is indication of how she feels, I’d say she likes me touching her.
We haven’t had a chance to talk about our kiss yet.
Bloody hell, it was amazing. She’s amazing.
I want to do it again.
And when she called me husband, I was gone.
Done for. If I died right now, I’d go a happy man.
No, wait, that’s a lie because I’ve never had her in my bed.
I’ve never seen her naked. Tasted her. Touched her.
Made her orgasm. Worshipped at her feet the way she deserves.
Once I get to do all those things, if I ever do, I could die a happy man.
“Bash. Bash,” Sutton says, and I blink out of my thoughts.
“Sorry, love. What were you saying?”
“I was answering your question. I’m ready to go.”
I stand, tugging her to her feet. “Okay, say goodbye.”
She slips her hand from mine and gives goodbye hugs to the last of our group still gathered at the table in Holt’s backyard.
I throw my hand up, waving. “Bye, we’re leaving.” I grab her hand, pulling her after me. She giggles as I start to hurry away.
“Where’s the fire?” Wes calls. “I didn’t get a goodbye hug.”
I flip him off over my shoulder.
“He’s a man on a mission,” someone, I think Elias, says.
The table erupts in laughter, and I can’t help but join in. Fuckers.
“What’s the rush?” Sutton asks. “I need to go get my stuff.” She gestures at Holt’s house.
“All taken care of,” I tell her I lead us around the side of the house and down the driveway to the black SUV waiting to take us to the hotel. “I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?”
“Yes, love.”
I greet the driver who opens the back door for us. I help her in before climbing in after her.
“Where are we going?” she asks, peering out the window when we start moving.
“You’ll see.”
“Bash,” she whines, stifling a yawn.
My heart stutters when she calls me by my nickname. I thought that’s what she said earlier, but I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it. Guess not. Hell, I love hearing her say it.
I grin. I can’t help it. “Say it again, love?”
“Which part?”
I reach for her hand, threading our fingers together. “My nickname.”
“Oh,” she breathes. “I—do you not want me to call you that?”
“No, wife, I like it.”
I don’t miss the way she turns a pretty shade of pink before saying, “Where are you taking me, Bash?”
“Our honeymoon. A night at a hotel in downtown Orlando. I wish it was for longer, but we have practice on Monday morning.”
“You didn’t have to …”
I tip my chin in the direction of the front seat. Our driver signed an NDA, but that doesn’t mean I want to flat out tell him this is fake. Which is the excuse I’m using for holding her hand, touching her, kissing her.
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted us to do something, even if it was shorter. I promise, once the season is over, we’ll plan a real honeymoon.”
“That sounds nice.”
“That’s my girl,” I tell her, running my thumb over her hand. She shivers. “You look beautiful today.”
“Thank you. That tux might be my new favorite outfit of yours.”
I bounce my eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”
She gives me a once-over. “Definitely.”
“Glad you like it, love.” I kiss her on the cheek because I can.
When we arrive at the hotel, the driver opens the door and helps us out before taking our bags out of the back.
Check-in is a breeze, and before I know it, we’re standing outside our suite.
The bellhop unloads our luggage in the entranceway and disappears with a wave, pocketing the rather large tip I gave him.
But that’s one of my favorite ways to spend money - leaving or giving large tips.
It’s the least I can do for those people who work hard for us and aren’t always paid a great wage.
Sutton steps farther inside. “This room is gorgeous.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have a great view,” I tell her, taking my jacket off and tossing it over the arm of the couch before moving to where she is. “But I figured the room would make up for it.”
She runs her hand up my chest, and I swear I forget how to breathe. “Thank you,” she says, cupping my cheek. I put my hand over hers.
“You don’t have to keep thanking me.”
“Still.”
I grip her hip with my free hand, staring into her emerald-green eyes. Her tongue peeks out, and she runs it along her bottom lip. I track the movement. I want to kiss her so badly.
“I—” I start to say as she says, “Will you kiss me again?”
I shouldn’t. I should say no. Send her into the bedroom to change and get ready for bed. Make the pullout couch up for myself. But I’m a weak man, especially when it comes to her.
“I’d do anything for you, love,” I murmur before crashing my lips against hers.
She moans, and I take the opportunity to lick into her mouth. My dick jumps to attention at the first taste of her. She meets me stroke for stroke, her hands fisting the front of my shirt, yanking me closer. I wish there wasn’t all this fabric between us so I could feel her skin against mine.
Eventually, I pull back to check in with her.
My cock gets harder at the sight in front of me.
Her cheeks are flushed, chest heaving, lips swollen, and her expression is filled with need, or lust, or maybe both.
I adjust myself, and I know she sees it—there’s no hiding my erection in these pants.
I’m sure she felt it too. But she didn’t seem to mind, so I don’t care.
I take a step back, needing to put distance between us before I do something crazy like tear off her dress and sink inside of her.
“Why haven’t we been doing that before?” she finally asks, bringing a hand to her mouth.
“Because you told me no when I asked you out.”
Way to shove your foot in your mouth. I rough a hand through my hair.
“Right.” She wraps her arms around herself, shifting back and forth.
“But I’m happy to do it again anytime you want.” I step closer to her and tilt her chin up so she looks at me.
“I’d like that,” she whispers.
“Come on, let’s get you out of this dress.”
“Oh, I—” she starts, but I silence her with a chaste kiss.
“I meant changing into more comfortable clothes. Unless you’d rather keep the dress on.”
She shakes her head. I grab our suitcases and bring them into the bedroom, Sutton trailing behind me.
“The sofa pulls out. I’ll sleep out there,” I tell her, zeroing in on where she’s twirling the ring on her thumb.
“No. We can share the bed, like we did when I first moved in with you.”
Yes, please. Maybe I’ll finally get a good night’s sleep. Then again, I might spend the entire night replaying the events of the day.
“I don’t know.” I set the bags down. “What happens if I accidentally do something in my sleep that you don’t want?” I avert my gaze. The last thing I want to do is scare her by grabbing a tit or grinding up on her in the middle of the night.
“I trust you,” she says simply, before she spins around and sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “Will you unzip me?”
“Yeah.” I step up to her and guide the zipper down, my breath catching at the sight of the phoenix tattoo on her back. I so badly want to touch it, touch her. See if she’s as responsive to my fingers as she is to my kisses.
“Thank you,” she says, stepping away from me and peeking at me.
“I’m gonna wait out there.” I gesture to the living room. “Take your time.” I force myself to walk away from her, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.