Chapter 38 Free at Last #2
“Try me,” Ethan said, his eyes sparkling. “I’ll even send him a picture. Maybe a Christmas card. ‘Having a great drive, wish you the worst.’”
“Please tell me you’re serious about the Christmas card,” Harper said, grinning. “I’ll help you write it.”
“Now you’re talking,” Ethan said, pointing at her. “See, Sebastian? Harper understands the art of a well-executed grudge.”
Sebastian leaned back, the tension that had clung to him for so long seeming to ease just a little bit more. “Seriously, Ethan… the cars… it’s surprisingly thoughtful, in your own uniquely destructive way. Thanks.”
Ethan waved a dismissive hand, though his grin softened. “Please. It’s nothing. Besides, what’s the point of having an obscene amount of money if you can’t at least use it to humiliate your enemies?”
The conversation drifted to the future—the legal battles still to come, the slow, arduous process of rebuilding the Foundation, and the ripple effect of Hawthorne’s fall.
As they spoke Ethan kept glancing between Sebastian and Harper with obvious amusement. “So, are you two going to keep pretending you’re not having some kind of epic standoff? Because honestly, the tension in here is so thick I could bottle it and sell it as an aphrodisiac.”
“We’re not—” Harper started.
“There’s no—” Sebastian said at the same time.
They both stopped, glaring at each other.
Ethan’s grin was absolutely wicked. “Oh, this is even better than I thought. What’s the fight about? Let me guess—Harper thinks Sebastian should be doing more with his newfound freedom, and Sebastian thinks Harper is trying to manage his life.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“Bingo,” Ethan said cheerfully. “God, you two are predictable. And completely into each other, which makes this whole thing even more entertaining.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Harper said, but her cheeks had flushed.
“And wrong,” Sebastian said, not looking at her.
“Right,” Ethan said, standing and stretching.
“Well, as much as I’m enjoying watching you two dance around whatever this is, I think I’ll leave you to sort it out.
” He drained his glass and headed for the door.
“Try not to kill each other. Though judging by the sparks flying in here, I’m not sure that’s your biggest risk. ”
“Ethan!” Sebastian called after him, but he was already gone, leaving them alone with the echoes of his laughter.
After Ethan left, the silence felt different—heavier once more. Harper moved to the window, looking out at the street below. Sebastian remained by the fireplace, both of them suddenly aware they were alone again.
“Sorry about Ethan,” Sebastian said finally, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “He really doesn’t know when to shut up sometimes.”
“It’s fine,” Harper said finally, not looking at Sebastian. “We did let things get a little weird.”
“Yeah, it’s just, I know you think that you’re helping, but I—I’m not you.” Sebastian stood and moved to the fireplace, his back to Harper.
Harper’s head snapped up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you always want to do the right thing, to do better.” Sebastian turned to face her, and there was something raw in his expression. “It’s admirable but that’s not who I am.”
“Then who are you? Do you even know?” Harper asked, her eyes narrowing as she waited for his response.
“Maybe I’m not a very nice person. Maybe I really am just as vain and selfish and lazy as people think I am,” he said.
Harper stood up, her own anger flaring. “Or maybe that’s a convenient excuse, so that you don’t have to try—”
“Just stop telling me what I should do with my life!” Sebastian’s control was fraying. “Just like Charles did. Just like everyone has, my entire bloody life.”
“That is not the same thing, and you know it,” Harper shot back. “Charles manipulated you for his own gain. I’m trying to help you see your potential—”
“Help me?” Sebastian laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Or control me? Because from where I’m standing, it feels a lot like you can’t stand the idea that I might make choices you don’t approve of.”
They were facing each other across the library like adversaries again.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Harper said, her voice sharp. “I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to stop you from wasting everything you’ve accomplished.”
“And there it is,” Sebastian said softly, dangerously. “You think I’m wasting my life if I don’t follow your vision of what it should be.”
“You could change things, Sebastian. You have influence now, a platform—”
“That I never asked for!” The words erupted out of him. “I never wanted to be a public figure. I never wanted any of this. I just wanted to stop Charles, and now I want to be left alone.”
“Well, that’s not how the world works,” Harper fired back. “You don’t get to just opt out because it’s uncomfortable.”
“Oh, watch me.”
They stared at each other, both breathing hard, the air between them crackling with tension that was part anger, part something else entirely.
“You’re impossible,” Harper said, but her voice had gone breathless.
“So are you,” Sebastian replied.
“I should leave,” Harper said, but she didn’t move.
“You should,” he agreed, taking a step closer.
Later, neither of them would be able to say who moved first. Only that one moment they were trading barbs, the next they were colliding like the storm clouds gathering over the city.
His mouth found hers, but this kiss wasn’t calculated or controlled.
It was desperate and hungry and almost painful in its intensity—months of suppressed want finally breaking free.
They broke apart momentarily, breathless and disheveled.
“You’ve been driving me insane for weeks,” Sebastian murmured, his fingers ghosting along her arm. “The way you bite your lip when you’re concentrating. The little frustrated sound you make when I’m being particularly difficult.”
Harper’s breath caught. “I don’t make a sound.”
“You do.” His hand found the small of her back, pulling her against him. “A tiny huff, right here”—his thumb pressed the spot between her shoulder blades—“like you’re physically restraining yourself from strangling me.”
“The urge is sometimes overwhelming,” she managed.
His eyes darkened. “What about now?”
The question hung between them for one weighted moment. Then Harper grabbed his shirt and yanked him toward her and kissed him again. Sebastian’s hands tangled in her hair, angling her head as he deepened the kiss. Harper bit his lower lip, swallowing his groan of approval.
“I should’ve known you’d kiss argumentatively,” he said against her throat.
“Shut up,” Harper breathed, tugging at his shirt buttons with impatient fingers.
Her back met the wall—when had they moved? Sebastian’s mouth traveled to her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below her ear. Harper gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.
“Your bedroom,” Harper said, decision made. “Now.”
Sebastian didn’t need to be told twice. He led her down the hallway, their hands intertwined, pausing only to press her against the wall twice more—once to kiss her senseless, once to let her return the favor.
His bedroom was a surprise—elegant but understated, dominated by a king-sized bed with navy sheets that looked sinfully soft. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city lights.
“No mirrors on the ceiling?” Harper teased, trying to calm her racing heart.
“They’re in the guest room,” Sebastian deadpanned, already working on the buttons of her blouse.
Harper laughed, then gasped as his lips found the hollow of her throat. He took his time undressing her, slowly discovering each newly revealed inch of skin with his hands and mouth.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she complained, tugging at his shirt.
“Easily remedied.” He stepped back, making quick work of his remaining buttons.
Harper sat on the edge of his bed, suddenly looking uncertain. The fierce confidence wavered, just for a moment. She had always been in control. Of interviews. Of consequences. Of herself. But here, with him, in this moment—she wanted to know what it felt like to just… fall.
“Hey,” Sebastian said, noticing her hesitation. “We don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she said quickly. Then, softer, “I’ve wanted to for months. Even when I hated you.”
“Especially when you hated me,” Sebastian said with a crooked smile.
Harper laughed, and the tension broke. She pulled him closer to her, and his mouth crashed against hers with a hunger that should have terrified him.
He’d kissed women before—plenty of them—but this was different.
This was Harper, all fire and sharp edges and devastating intelligence, meeting him with equal ferocity.
What followed was everything he’d imagined and nothing like he’d expected. Sebastian learning her body—carefully, methodically, cataloging every reaction until he knew exactly how to make her fall apart.
Harper’s hands weren’t idle either. She explored the hard planes of his chest, her fingertips tracing scars he’d forgotten he had, mapping muscle and bone with the same intensity she brought to everything else.
When her nails scored down his back, Sebastian groaned into her mouth, the sweet sting sending fire straight through him.
“Harper,” he whispered, her name a prayer on his lips as she moved beneath him, all graceful limbs and soft curves.
At one point she gasped something that might have been an argument or might have been a particularly creative curse, and Sebastian grinned against her skin—even breathless, Harper Sinclair was magnificent at being contrary.
They moved together through waves of pleasure until they were both spent and shaking, collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and sweat-dampened skin.
At one point, as they lay catching their breath, Harper trailed her fingers down his body and murmured, “We should probably do that again. You know, just to verify at it wasn’t a fluke.”