Chapter 10
Sebastian Sterling
Guilt burns like acid in my veins, but I accept the pain and absorb as much of Penelope’s misery as she’ll allow. Her tears soak my shirt. I tuck her face against my chest and shield her from the world with my body.
I’m the biggest, dumbest asshole in the world.
Every sign I ignored throughout the years replays in my head.
Her closed door, the separation between her and her brother, her mother’s strained eyes and father’s masked fatigue every time we visited—it all stands in stark contrast to my other memories.
I murmur words of comfort, knowing there’s no way to erase her pain yet desperate to ease her mind.
I pull my heels closer to the bottom of the couch, raising my knees and tucking her tighter and higher against my chest so I can drop my chin onto the top of her head as I comfort her in the only way I know how: by ripping myself to shreds and absolving her of the things she never did but I subconsciously held against her.
“I wasn’t there for you, and I’m so sorry, sweet pea.
You avoided me out of fear, not spite, didn’t you?
” I continue without waiting for a response.
Her sobs wrench me to pieces. “The teachers dismissed you. Your brother was an ass. Your parents didn’t listen.
” Her fingers sneak into my unbuttoned collar, sliding against flesh damp from her tears.
I hug her tighter. “If the people you loved and trusted most turned you away, then of course you thought I’d do the same.
” Pain stabs through my soul as she clings to me and cries.
“Of course you were too scared to call me out. The only thing you could do was shut yourself away. You took it all in silence while still dominating the academic world.” I kiss the top of her head and hate myself more with every tear she sheds.
“Fucking hell, I’m a goddamn idiot and am so sorry,” I whisper into her hair.
“I’ll never leave you again, sweet pea. You don’t have to believe me yet. I’ll prove—”
She cranes her neck and jerks me down by the collar.
Our mouths collide. She shocks me with aggressive sweeps of her tongue and demanding tugs of my collar.
I groan and bend to her will as she spears impatient fingers into my hair.
With drugging ferocity, she silences my thoughts with her mastery of my mouth.
When she pulls away, I growl and chase her, but she twists her hand in my hair and tucks her face against my wet shirt. My chest heaves and cock throbs, but I loosen my arms so I don’t crush her s I breathe in her sweet vanilla scent.
“I don’t want empty words, Sebastian. My head hurts. I cried all over your shirt. Is this dry clean only?”
I sigh and stroke her back, recognizing her need for rest by her deflection. Today has been a long, taxing day. Not only was it her first full day of work, but she had me pestering her at every turn, a panic attack in the server room, and an unprecedented emotional release in my arms.
“Don’t worry about the dry cleaning, love. Tell me the names of your bullies and I’ll take you for dinner.”
“I have food at home,” she says.
“But you won’t eat it even if I take you home right now, will you?” I nudge.
She sighs and rubs her forehead on my sternum.
“You’re right, I won’t. I’m tired,” she mumbles.
“It’s settled, then. Names, food, bed,” I say.
A moment passes before she lifts her head. The scowl on her face says she recognized my vagueness.
“Only two of those are with you,” she challenges.
I quirk a brow. She sighs again and gives a halfhearted eye roll. When she tries to lean her head against my chest, she stops with her eyes roaming over my wet clothing.
“I cried all over you. Do you have another shirt?”
“Yes, in the closet, but I can wait to change until we leave,” I say.
“You can’t wear this. It’s all wet.”
“Feel free to take it off, sweet pea,” I partially joke.
Not expecting her to comply, I sit with my heart in my throat and my cock painfully hard as she begins working the buttons. When she reaches the bottom and struggles to tug my shirt free of my trousers, I brace my knuckles on the couch on either side of me and lean this way and that to help her.
I bite back a groan as her soft fingers brush against my bare torso as she also untucks my undershirt.
“Did Julie really lock me in the server room today?” she asks.
I swallow and clench my fists as she urges me to lean forward so she can pull the shirts free of the back of my waistband.
Her soft breast flattens against my front, and I marvel at the contrast of her nipple piercing as it digs into my muscle.
I struggle to remember her question as her ass shifts on my lap, and even though my dick hurts from its confines, I don’t dare give it any attention for fear of losing control.
“Sebastian?”
Fuck.
If I come in my pants, will she take them off, too?
Double fuck.
I bite the tip of my tongue and shove the depraved thought in the farthest recess of my mind I can access and slam the hatch closed.
“Sorry, sweet pea. The nearness effect has me in a chokehold. What was the question?”
She pauses and studies my expression, but her sluggish and subdued reaction highlights her exhaustion.
“Did Julie shut the server room door?” she asks again.
“Ms. Kim? Yes,” I say.
Penelope guides my right hand into her lap and unfastens my cufflinks.
My fingers ache with the need to touch and knead, but I force them to remain lax and docile for my sweet pea as she works my arm out of my sleeve and shifts to do the same to my other side.
With a frustrated huff at the odd angle, she uses my chest for balance as she shuffles her legs around until her knees bracket my legs.
I nearly choke on my tongue as her weight settles on my thighs.
My hands wrap around her hips without my permission.
If she slides forward the tiniest bit, I’ll lose control. Her pussy is too close to my throbbing cock.
“I want to see,” she says.
With her fingers curled around the bottom hem of my undershirt, my ego insists she means she wants to enjoy my body even as logic demands she means Ms. Kim on the security feed. I clear my throat.
“You don’t even need to ask,” I say.
My guttural answer rings true for both versions.
She pulls my shirt up my torso until it catches on my armpits. I flex my grip on her hips, desperate to hold onto her curves, but force my hands off her and raise my arms.
The moment the fabric no longer restricts my limbs, I grab her waist again.
Her hourglass figure tempts me beyond measure, but the startled appreciation in her eyes fills me with pride.
She balls my undershirt in her fist and wipes the dampness of her tears off my chest before tossing the fabric aside.
“Sorry for making a mess. I’ll get your other shirt,” she says.
I inch my knees apart, forcing her deeper into my lap, and tease my thumb over the softness of her belly. She grabs my bare shoulders. A groan escapes me as I discover her belly button piercing. Her startled eyes relay her realization of just how precarious a situation she put herself in.
“Forget the shirt, sweet pea. I think you missed something on my chest,” I growl.
Her gaze drops. Liquid fire pulses in my balls as awe and hunger shine from her hazel eyes. Her soft, absent-minded wow tests my control. I die a million glorious deaths as she slips her hands from my shoulders and runs them over my upper chest.
When her soft palms skim over my hard nipples, I suck in a hard breath. She pauses and meets my half-lidded stare.
“You tricked me. There’s nothing on your chest, is there?” she asks.
Despite having every right to be mad at me, there’s no anger in her tone.
“You are. You’re on my chest,” I point out.
I wrap my fingers loosely around her forearms and hold her hands in place when she tries to pull them away.
“I took my teasing too far. I’m sorry, sweet pea. Please don’t push me away. Let me hold you while you watch the security feed,” I beg.
She tests the resilience of my pecs with a gentle squeeze and pulls her lip ring into her mouth. I cling to my sanity by sheer force of will as her shudder vibrates into my thighs.
“No more teasing?” she asks.
“No more teasing,” I confirm.
She nods. I release her wrists. She drags the heel of her palms over my nipples as she skims her hands back up to my shoulders. Gold flecks shine with wicked delight as she enjoys my tortured shiver.
She’s diabolical.
I grab her ass and lift her up to my waist as I stand, forcing her to wrap her legs around me while avoiding the temptation of her pussy near my throbbing cock.
She squeaks and clings to my shoulders. I stride across my office with her delicious curves pressed tight against my naked flesh until I reach my chair.
When I curl my fingers around her nape and encourage her to release me, she skims her hands down my chest and sides. Electricity zings through me.
“I thought you said no more teasing, pipsqueak,” I growl.
She hides her smile and shrugs.
“I’m not teasing. I’m flirting.”
When she blinks vindictive yet shy and tired eyes up at me, I manage a strangled chuckle before spinning her in my arms and sitting down in my chair.
With her hair tickling my chest and her ass snug in my lap, I bar an arm around her front—carefully keeping my hands off her so they don’t roam—and turn on my computer.
After displaying herculean control and replaying the proof of Ms. Kim sneaking into the main equipment room without groping Penelope or growling like a feral beast, I click on the ID card log.
“Whether she used the vice president’s ID with his permission or not remains to be seen. I’ll conduct a full investigation and let you know as I find information,” I vow.
“What will you do if he gave it to her?”
“He’ll receive the same treatment she does.”
“Even though he’s your VP?”