CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Stella
Alump crawls up my throat and hot tears burn the backs of my eyes as I stare down at him on his knees before me, his lips pressed to the top of the scar left behind from that day.
The sight does something to me, threatens to crack my chest wide open. But I can’t allow that to happen.
This, him, us. Everything he’s saying. It’s all just a fantasy.
Everything between us always has been.
It’s been this exorcism of hate and burning chemistry. It’s not real. Not really.
And while he might be saying all the right words to make me melt, it’s all an act.
For whatever reason, he’s here with an ulterior motive. He wants me home for something he’s yet to confess to, but I’m certain he’s not just concerned about my education.
“If you’re just going to kneel there and stare, how about you take a photo and let me get on with my life?” I sass.
He sucks in a sharp breath before his eyes roll up my body, finding my own. They’re dark, dangerously so, and for a second, that iron cladding I’ve erected around my heart almost fractures at the sincerity staring back at me.
“Do something,” I whisper. “Please.” Before I end up bleeding out all over Kyle’s bedroom floor.
Thankfully, for once, he does as he’s told, and a heartbeat later he returns his lips to my belly, kissing along my scar, making those damn tears burn once more before he pops open the button on my skirt, pushing it from my hips.
“Fuck, baby. It’s like you knew I was coming for you,” he growls, sitting back on his haunches and running his eyes over my body.
My skin prickles wherever his gaze touches, my breasts swelling, my nipples hardening in my need for him.
“If I’d have known you were coming, I’d have put a gun in my purse this morning,” I say darkly.
“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” His eyes flare with heat, his fingers twitching where they’re resting on his thighs.
With his eyes still locked on me, he pushes to his feet, reaching behind him and pulling his shirt from his body.
Swallowing, I run my eyes over the inches of taut, tanned skin he reveals. Not content with just removing his shirt, he immediately drops his hands to his waistband, and after toeing off his sneakers, he pushes both his pants and boxers down his legs, allowing his cock to spring free.
My eyes zero in on it as he takes a step toward me.
Noticing where my attention is, he growls. “I knew you’d missed me.”
Ripping my eyes from his cock, I stare into his dark and dangerous ones, not missing the mirth within.
“N-no, I’ve just never seen…”
“Anything so impressive?” he finishes for me, closing the final space between us and wrapping his hand around the side of my neck as our fronts collide.
“You naked. It’s… yeah,” I sigh, not wanting to tell him just how fucking impressive it is. His muscles, his ink, his power. All of it talks to me in a way it really shouldn’t. It makes me want things I shouldn’t, things that are ultimately going to hurt in the not-too-distant future.
I’m not sure I can do it all again.
“I-I can’t do this, Seb,” I whisper, hating that I sound so vulnerable.
“Shh,” he says, running the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. “Let me show you all the reasons why it’s the only thing we should be doing.”
Leaning forward, he brushes his lips against mine. The move is testing, hesitant. The total opposite of what I’m used to from him.
His hand slides from my waist, up to my ribs and then around to my back.