Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
SEBASTIAN
Her lips crash into mine, and the world shatters into a million glittering pieces.
I’ve negotiated billion-dollar deals, faced down boardroom sharks, and built an empire on control—yet nothing in my life prepared me for the devastating impact of Bailey Monroe’s kiss.
My hands cradle her face like she might dissolve into smoke if I don’t hold tight enough. I pour everything into this moment—all the terror from the crash, all the confusion of those cabin days, all the bone-deep certainty that I’ve found what I’ve been searching for without knowing it.
She makes a small, desperate sound against my mouth that ignites something primal and possessive deep in my chest. I press her against the hallway wall, deepening the kiss until we’re both gasping.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, clutching fistfuls as she pulls me closer. This is what’s been missing from my life. This beautiful chaos, this glorious unpredictability, this remarkable woman who shattered everything I thought I wanted and replaced it with everything I need.
Something hard and solid connects with the back of my skull.
“Ow!” I jerk back, rubbing the spot where pain blooms sharp.
Bailey’s eyes widen to perfect circles, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh God! I hit you with Alaska!” She holds up the cabin snow globe, her expression a magnificent collision of horror and barely contained laughter.
“You assaulted me with a custom-made souvenir?” I try for stern, but the absurdity crashes over me all at once.
She explodes with laughter—that full-body, uninhibited sound that once grated on my nerves and now feeds something starved inside me.
“I’m so sorry. I was aiming for seductive and landed on assault and battery.” Her eyes dance with mischief. “Though technically this makes us even for all the times you made me hit my head against the headboard.”
Heat surges through me at the memory. “That’s different,” I counter, still rubbing my injury. “That was intentional. And thoroughly enjoyed by all parties.”
“Fair point,” she concedes, stepping closer to inspect my wound. Her fingers probe my scalp, her body pressing against mine in a way that makes me forget about the pain. “Does this hurt?”
“What do you think?” I murmur, but her proximity is already healing whatever damage that snow globe might have caused.
She bites her lip, a calculated move that draws my attention where she wants it. “I think I should kiss it better. I’m told I have very therapeutic lips.”
“Is that so?” I raise an eyebrow, unable to resist playing along. “Where did you get your medical license, Dr. Monroe?”
“The University of Making It Up As I Go Along.” She stands on tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to the sore spot. “Did that help?”
“Not nearly enough.” I capture her hand, guiding it to the front of my jeans, where my arousal is unmistakable. “Perhaps you should examine the patient more thoroughly.”
Her eyes darken as her palm flattens against me. “That’s a very serious condition you have there, Mr. Lockhart. Might require extended treatment.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” I press my lips to that spot just below her ear that makes her shiver. “Shall we take this inside before you concuss me with any more souvenirs?”
She fumbles with her keys, a flush spreading across her cheeks. “If you can stop distracting me for five seconds, yes.”
I slide my hands under her shirt to trace circles on the small of her back. “I’m not sure that’s possible,” I murmur against her neck. “You’re incredibly distracting yourself.”
The door finally swings open, and we stumble inside, a tangle of grabbing hands and hungry mouths. Bailey places the cabin on a shelf with her collection before turning back to me, her eyes glittering with intent.
“Now,” she says, pressing her palms against my chest and walking me backward toward what I assume is her bedroom. “Where were we before I assaulted you with that cabin?”
“I believe I was about to show you exactly how much I missed you.” I spin us around, lifting her. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I carry her through her apartment, my mouth never leaving hers for more than a second.
“Which way?” I murmur against the delicate skin of her neck.
“Left,” she gasps as I graze my teeth over her pulse point. “Door at the—oh God, do that again—at the end.”
Each step creates delicious friction between us. Her fingers work at the buttons of my shirt with surprising dexterity, given how her breath catches every time I press her harder against me.
“Someone’s eager,” I tease, enjoying the flush that spreads across her cheeks.
“Says the man who tracked me across five cities with snow globes,” she counters, pushing my shirt off my shoulders.
Her hands explore my chest, nails scraping over my skin in a way that makes my muscles tighten.
“Besides, I haven’t had sex since that cabin, and unlike some people, I don’t have corporate mistresses lined up in every city. ”
I growl at that, nipping at her collarbone. “There’s been no one since you.”
“Good,” she says, and the possessiveness in her voice sends heat surging through me. “Because I don’t share well, and I’d hate to have to push someone out of a plane.”
I kick her bedroom door open and deposit her on the bed, following her down to capture her mouth again. “The only person getting pushed anywhere is you—into multiple orgasms.”
She laughs against my lips, a sound that dissolves into a moan as my hand slides under her shirt. “That was both arrogant and ridiculously hot. How do you do that?”
“Years of practice being both,” I murmur, pushing her shirt up to reveal the creamy skin of her stomach. I press my lips to the soft flesh just above her navel, her muscles tensing and quivering beneath my mouth. “But I always deliver on my promises.”
Her clever fingers work at my belt, undoing it with surprising speed. “Promises are easy to make, Lockhart. Let’s see if your performance matches the hype.”
I pull back to look at her, raising an eyebrow at the challenge. “I believe I’ve already shown my...capabilities in this area. Multiple times.”
“Past performance doesn’t guarantee future results,” she quips, her hand slipping inside my pants to wrap around me. “As they say in the financial world.”
My breath catches as she strokes me with just the right pressure. “Are you really quoting investment disclaimers during foreplay?”
“Just keeping you on your toes,” she says with a wicked grin, her thumb circling the sensitive head of my cock in a way that makes rational thought nearly impossible.
“Bailey,” I warn, my voice low as I capture her wrist. “If you keep that up, this will be over before it begins.”
Her eyes widen with false innocence. “What happened to your famous control, Mr. CEO?”
In answer, I remove her hand and pin both her wrists above her head. “You happened,” I growl, using my free hand to rip her shirt up and over her head. The simple cotton bra she wears is far sexier than any expensive lingerie, because it’s on her.
“Did you just tear my shirt?” she asks, but the way her pupils dilate undermines the outrage in her voice.
“I’ll buy you a hundred new ones,” I promise, lowering my head to trace the edge of her bra with my tongue.
“Of course you would.” She gasps as I drag my teeth over the swell of her breast. “Typical rich boy solution—throw money at the problem.”
I release her wrists to unhook her bra, sliding it off to reveal her perfect breasts. “I’d rather throw something else at the problem,” I murmur, taking one nipple into my mouth while my thumb circles the other.
Her retort dissolves into a moan, her back arching to press herself more firmly against my mouth. I lavish attention on each breast, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp little nips that make her gasp my name.
“Sebastian,” she manages as I move lower, dragging my tongue down the center of her stomach. “I need—”
“I know what you need,” I interrupt, my fingers working at the button of her jeans. “Lie back and let me give it to you.”
For once, she doesn’t argue, lifting her hips to help as I slide her jeans and underwear down in one smooth motion. I take a moment to appreciate the sight of her—naked, flushed with desire. Her hair spread across the pillow like a wild halo.
“You’re staring,” she whispers, and I detect a rare note of vulnerability in her voice.
“Because you’re exquisite,” I tell her, meaning every word. “Every inch of you is perfect.”
The blush deepens across her cheeks. “Even the scar from when I fell out of the cockpit simulator?”
I locate the small white line on her thigh and press my lips to it. “Especially that. It’s very you—reckless and memorable.”
“Smooth talker,” she accuses, but I can see how my words affect her.
“Not just a talker,” I remind her, settling between her thighs. I kiss the inside of her knee, then work my way higher, leaving a trail of kisses and light bites along her sensitive skin.
Her breath quickens as I get closer to where she wants me most. “Sebastian,” she whimpers, hips shifting.
“Yes?” I pause, looking up at her with deliberate innocence. “Did you need something?”
“Don’t tease,” she begs, fingers tangling in my hair.
“But you’re so beautiful when you’re desperate,” I murmur against her inner thigh, close enough that my breath fans over her center.
“I swear to God, if you don’t put your mouth on me right now—”
I cut off her threat with what she’s asking for, parting her with my thumbs and licking a slow stripe up her pussy. Her taste floods my senses—sweet, tangy, addictive. I circle her clit with my tongue, her thighs tremble on either side of my head.
“Fuck,” she gasps, her hands fisting in my hair. “Yes, just like that.”
I lose myself in pleasuring her, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick flicks of my tongue against her swollen clit. When I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to find that perfect spot, she cries out, her back arching off the bed.
“Sebastian! Right there, please don’t stop!”