Chapter Twenty-Five
Sebastian
I removed my glasses and set them on the table, feeling the weight of the past few days settle heavily over me.
Everything ached—my eyes from lack of sleep, my chest from the constant anxiety, my head from replaying our fight over and over.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose where the frames had left their mark, keeping my eyes closed because I wasn’t sure I could face her yet.
The days without Jesse had been torture. I had been ready to beg her to take me back long before she’d knocked on my door.
“Jesse, I’m the one who should apologize,” I began, my voice rougher than I intended.
“I shouldn’t have contacted Malcom without asking you first. I really did think I was doing something good for you.
When he responded so positively to your work, I kept telling myself I’d explain everything.
But as time passed, I couldn’t figure out how to bring it up without making things worse.
Part of me knew I was being a coward, that keeping it from you was wrong, but I just.. . I was stuck.”
She took my hand, and the simple touch nearly undid me. How had I survived days without this?
“I know you meant well, Sebastian. I overreacted. But from now on, let’s promise to be completely honest with each other. That is, if you still want to… be with me.”
If I still wanted her? Was she serious? These past few days had shown me exactly how much I wanted her, wanted us.
I’d been miserable without her. I’d barely eaten, couldn’t focus on work, found myself staring at my phone, hoping she’d call or text.
Every time I walked past her door, I looked at it like some lovesick teenager, just hoping I’d bump into her.
I opened my eyes and looked at her. Even exhausted, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I stood abruptly and pulled her against me, unable to hold back anymore.
The kiss was everything I’d been desperately craving—fierce, hungry, unrestrained.
My tongue swept into her mouth, and she responded immediately, grabbing fistfuls of my shirt and pulling me closer as though she needed me as much as I needed her.
Relief flooded through me so intensely I felt dizzy. She was here. She’d come back to me.
My hands roamed over her body, relearning every curve, every soft place I’d been aching to touch.
I gripped her ass and pulled her firmly against my erection, needing her to feel how much I wanted her, how much these days apart had cost me.
She molded herself to me, pliant and eager, her fingers sliding under my shirt, nails dragging across my back.
The sting only heightened everything else.
This reunion was nothing like I’d imagined during those sleepless nights.
It was better—more intense, more desperate, more real.
I moved my mouth to her neck, teeth grazing her skin, tongue tracing the curve of her shoulder.
I was completely absorbed in her, drowning in the taste and feel and scent of her.
Nothing else mattered—not that she hadn’t showered or changed, not that we were in the kitchen, not that Robin was probably watching us.
All that mattered was that she was back where she belonged, in my arms again. I should never have let her leave.
I pulled her shirt over her head and cupped her breasts, lowering my mouth to take one taut nipple between my lips. Her sweetness was nectar from the gods she painted so skillfully. Her moan shot straight through me.
“God, I’ve missed you,” she whispered, fingers threading through my hair, pressing my face closer.
“I’ve missed you more,” I growled, and meant it with every fiber of my being. She had no idea how much.
I unfastened her jeans and had them off along with her underwear in seconds, my hands shaking with urgency.
“That’s not fair,” she protested, reaching for my shirt buttons.
She fumbled with them, cursing under her breath, and I wanted to help but couldn’t seem to make my hands cooperate.
When she finally got the shirt open and touched my bare chest, I nearly lost control right there.
Her fingers traced the scratches Robin had left earlier, when we were both on my bike and he’d held on for dear life.
The tenderness of her touch contrasted sharply with the fire burning between us.
We worked together on my jeans, fingers tangling clumsily in our haste. The moment her hand wrapped around my length, stroking firmly, I had to press my forehead against hers and just breathe.
“You need to slow down if you want this to last,” I managed to say, though my body was screaming the opposite.
I lifted her easily onto the kitchen counter and positioned myself between her legs. God, I loved how perfectly she fit in my arms. My hand went automatically to my jeans for a condom, but she stopped me, pulling me closer, wrapping her bare legs around my waist.
“We don’t need that. I told you I’m on the pill.”
I paused, searching her eyes, needing to be absolutely certain. This felt monumental somehow, another level of trust and intimacy. “You’re sure about this?”
She nodded, her gaze steady on mine. “I trust you.”
Those three words nearly broke me. After everything, after the fight, the misunderstanding, and the days of silence, she still trusted me.
She was damp, creamy, and ready for me. I sank into her with one long thrust, and her teeth on my shoulder were the only thing keeping me grounded.
She cried out when I pushed deep a second time, and I gripped her firmly, pulling her against me for maximum penetration.
I moved harder than I ever had before, more possessively, more desperately.
Missing her had awakened something primal in me—a need to claim her, to make sure she knew she was mine and I was hers, and nothing would come between us again.
Each thrust was a declaration, a promise, a plea—Don’t leave me again. I can’t survive without you.
My hand slid between us, thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and working it in the rhythm she liked.
She was panting, clinging to me, her face flushed, her eyes unfocused.
She was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen.
When she came apart with a sharp cry, surrendering completely to me, I followed immediately, burying myself as deep as I could go.
I pressed my face into the hollow of her neck, both of us shaking, holding on desperately as if letting go might make this moment disappear.
As the intensity faded into something softer, I felt her body go completely limp against me. She rested her head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arms around her, just holding her, breathing her in.
“God, I missed you.” Her breath was warm against my chest.
“I missed you too.” I kissed her forehead softly, gently, trying to convey everything I was feeling. “More than you know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“Let’s never do that again, okay?”
“Okay.” I understood exactly what she meant—no more fights like that, no more secrets, no more days without each other.
Her sudden laugh surprised me. I reluctantly pulled back to look at her face.
“What is it?”
She pointed past me at Robin, whose kitten face was completely smeared with food. “I thought cats were supposed to groom themselves. That one definitely needs a bath. And so do we.”
I chuckled, the sound feeling rusty after days of barely smiling. I shrugged off my shirt that was still clinging to one arm. “Us first. Shower or bath?”
“Shower. It’s way too hot for a bath.”
“I’ll grab some clean towels.” I leaned in for a soft kiss, so different from the desperate ones earlier. “I love you, Jesse.”
The words came out naturally, easily, as though I’d said it a hundred times.
But as I walked away toward the linen closet, carrying my clothes in one hand, I realized what I’d just said.
What I’d just admitted. I’d never said those words to anyone in decades—not romantically, anyway.
They’d always felt too big, too terrifying.
But with Jesse, they felt true, almost inevitable.
I hadn’t waited for her response, though. Should I have? Did she feel the same way? Had the intensity of the moment made me speak too soon? What if she wasn’t ready? What if I’d just made things awkward after we’d finally reconciled?
My hands shook slightly as I pulled towels from the closet. No, I told myself firmly. It was the right thing to say because it was true. I did love her. If she wasn’t ready to say it back yet, that was okay. I’d wait as long as she needed.
I walked to the bathroom and started stacking the fresh towels. Jesse appeared in the doorway carrying Robin, who looked drunk with his distended belly and droopy eyes.
She smiled at the purring kitten. “Let’s give him a bath in the sink. He’s half asleep as it is.”
“Okay. Let me have him.”
“Better let me. You already have enough scratches. Have you ever had a cat?”
“No. Just a bearded dragon when I was younger.”
“A what?” She was testing the water temperature with her hand.
“A lizard. He was independent and solitary, like I was growing up. Didn’t need much attention or affection.” I watched her adjust the water, so competent and natural with the kitten. “We were well-suited to each other.”
She shifted Robin into the crook of her elbow and reached up with her free hand to stroke my cheek. The gesture was so tender it made my throat tight.
“You have plenty of affection now, whether you want it or not.”
It wasn’t ‘I love you,’ but it was something. Something that made my heart squeeze in my chest. I pressed my cheek against her palm, then turned my head to kiss it.
“Believe me, I want it all,” I said.
She proceeded to bathe the kitten, whose sleepy eyes flew open as his little paws touched water. At first, he freaked out, but Jesse knew how to introduce him to the water slowly.