CHAPTER 25

Lexie wasn’t sure what she’d expected Sebastian’s apartment to look like—possibly a small, dark, cramped space with a Murphy bed and a nonexistent view. Instead, his apartment door opened up to a well-lit foyer. To her right was a hall table that was empty except for a set of keys and a tidy stack of mail. To her left stretched a long, white corridor, and in front of her was a set of double doors. She opened them and simply gaped at what she saw.

Sebastian had neglected to mention that his apartment was a penthouse loft.

Slowly, Lexie walked into a large, beautifully appointed room.

The main space, two stories high, had been designed around the framework of the building. In front of her and to her right, the walls were constructed of brick—obviously the original walls of the building—with huge glass windows that overlooked the street. Lexie looked up and back, where she saw a high lofted area that she guessed might be Seb’s office. A large kitchen was set off to the left, with a built-in brick oven and custom cabinetry, no doubt to hold all of Sebastian’s pots and pans.

A few large beams vaulted the ceiling and held up the loft. The décor of the room was minimalist, done in a clean style that was both modish and masculine. Although the room wasn’t showy, its size and feel spoke of money and power. Both of which Sebastian obviously had in abundance.

She hadn’t realized how high-end Helena was. And now that he had his own television show, well, surely he was in a far different league than she’d even imagined.

She left the room and turned right, down the corridor. It was dimly illuminated and flanked with framed black-and-white photographs of New York City.

There were several closed doors leading off the hallway, but she instinctively knew that the door at the very end—the one that was ajar—led to Sebastian’s bedroom. Steadily, she walked toward it, her shoes clacking on the wood floor.

As soon as she pushed the door open, Lexie knew two things. One, she was right about this being Seb’s room. And two, she wasn’t alone.

Sebastian had his back to her and he was looking at the street below through yet another huge glass window. He’d changed out of his chef’s whites and was wearing his typical attire—black jeans and a tight black T-shirt that stretched over his taut chest.

Lexie dragged her eyes away from him and glanced around the room. The décor echoed that of the main space—brick walls, sparsely decorated, and very, very male. There was, however, one notable exception to the minimalism.

In the center of the room was the largest bed Lexie had ever seen. Unlike the Spartan look of the rest of Sebastian’s furniture, his bed was a sumptuous affair, complete with a large steel headboard, inviting-looking linens, a plethora of plump pillows, and an enormous coverlet.

Lexie shifted her weight and the floorboard creaked. Sebastian turned at the noise, his arms dropping to his sides. For a moment, they just stared at each other.

Lexie was unsure of what to say, what to do. A mix of emotions rose to the surface—desire, anticipation, and, to Lexie’s immense surprise, love.

She loved him.

Before she could decide whether the thought elated her or terrified her, Sebastian was in front of her, wrapping his arms around her body.

“Sebastian—” she started to say.

“I’ve missed you, Spice,” he said between kisses. “You have no idea how much. But for now, let’s not say anything. Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just let me show you.”

Lexie was so emotionally keyed up from the past few weeks that she didn’t want to think anymore. Right now, not thinking and not talking sounded pretty good.

Slowly, she nodded her assent. She was rewarded with Sebastian’s slow, sexy smile, the one she knew to expect whenever he looked at her.

* * *

She’d said yes. Thank God.

He didn’t know what he would have done if she’d insisted on talking first. He needed to touch her, to feel her body pressed against his. To know that she was real, that she was here, and that she was his at last.

Gently, almost reverently, Sebastian laid her on the bed. She looked beautiful, her warm brown eyes half closed, her gaze an impossible mixture of innocence and provocation. Her wavy chestnut hair had come undone from the tiny clips she’d used, the humidity making it curl around her face. With a callused finger, he touched the silken strands, then stroked her cheek. She blushed, the pinkness suffusing her cheeks and ripening her lips.

He kissed her once, then twice, then a third time, before he was able to drag his gaze away from her face. And still she watched him, unmoving, the mere hint of a smile on her lovely lips.

Slowly, oh, so slowly, he stripped off her clothes, exposing her creamy flesh. Her blush had crept down her neck to her breasts, her white skin flushed. It was intoxicating, knowing that he was the cause.

Then he touched her. Everywhere.

He ran his hand down her face, her neck, skimming her breasts and the flare of her waist. He smoothed his palm over the gentle curve of her hip and all the way down her perfectly molded legs. When he reached her toes, he drew up her leg and kissed the sole of her foot. Then he worked his way back up her body, this time with his mouth.

By the time he reached her lips, she was visibly panting, her breasts rising and falling with her breath, her nipples hard little points, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the coverlet on his bed.

She was watching him with both longing and expectation. When he kissed her lips, he felt her lids close, felt her long lashes brush his skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, completely responsive to his touch.

Sebastian reveled in the feeling of her softness giving readily to his hardness. It had been a long time—too long—since he’d last seen her, touched her. Now, faced with the reality of her in his bed, he didn’t know how he’d made it this long without her.

Lexie Meyers was his. He’d claimed her. In front of his whole kitchen, something he’d never done before with any woman.

Lexie opened her mouth to him and he countered by plunging his tongue into her sweet depths. She let out a low moan before adding her own tongue into the mix. He felt her breasts rise and fall, pressing against him more tightly. All of a sudden, the clothes he wore were an encumbrance. He got on his knees, lifting his body away from hers, to get them off.

When she felt his warmth removed from hers, she let out a sound of protest.

“Shh, Spice,” Seb said. “It’ll only take a second. I need to feel you. All of you.”

A moment later Seb’s clothes were on the floor and his warm flesh was pressed against hers. Lexie sighed and wrapped her arms around him again, pulling him tightly into her.

He felt like he’d come home.

A swell of longing filled his chest and an answering pang of desire hit him right in the groin. He’d never needed anyone the way he needed her. With one hand, he cradled her head, weaving his hand through her curls. He rested the other hand on her waist, then let it slip down to cup her softly rounded ass.

She shifted against him, opening her mouth to him, opening her body to him. Sebastian groaned. “Lexie, oh, Lexie,” he said. “I want to give you everything.”

“Everything?” she whispered, confused.

“Yes, everything.” Then he lowered his head to her neck and suckled softly. Slipping one hand between their bodies, he pressed one long finger to her core. Instinctively, he knew she was ready, but he needed to be sure. He was unsurprised when he felt her slick dampness coat his finger. Using her natural wetness as lubrication, he swept his finger up and around her nubbin as he suckled on her breast. She rewarded him with a broken gasp that intensified when he pushed the same finger into her tight heat.

She was ready. More than ready. In one swift movement, he spread her folds and sank into her waiting depths.

Though she urged him on, he moved slowly, setting the pace to enhance their pleasure. He didn’t want to rush this. Not this. Not with her.

Leisurely, languidly, he gave her pleasure. And with every one of Lexie’s sighs, with each delightful moan, with every heated touch, she gave him pleasure in return. He wanted to prolong this as much as possible. Wanted to make it good for her.

At long last, he felt her shudder, felt the walls of her channel clench around him, and he drove into her, eyes open as her back arched with her own, undeniable climax.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyelids fluttered, and her mouth formed a perfect “o” at the moment of her release.

Watching her come apart in his arms was the most erotic thing Sebastian had ever seen. He closed his eyes and followed after her with a deep groan. Never opening his eyes, he simply tucked her against his side and wrapped his arm around her.

“I love you,” he whispered, right before falling asleep.

* * *

Lexie lay in Sebastian’s bed with her eyes wide open. She should feel utterly sated, drained, and terribly sleepy. But instead of being relaxed, her mind was a frenzy of activity. With his last words, he’d woken her slumbering brain—flicked it on like a switch.

Had she heard what she thought she heard? Had Sebastian actually told her he loved her?

How … shocking.

It was the last thing she’d expected to hear from a man like him. A man who’d surely loved—and left—countless women before her. Had he told them he’d loved them? Had he meant it?

She was overanalyzing this, she knew—the words, the sentiment behind them, and surely the man himself. He’d stated it cleanly and simply in words as old as time. She should be thrilled. So why was she second-guessing him?

Lexie braved a glance at Sebastian’s slumbering form. He was lying on his side, one arm thrown over her body in a purely possessive gesture. His lips were curved in a smile, even in sleep.

Lexie knew that all of her pondering was meant to avoid the one question she knew she should be asking herself: Should she tell him she loved him, too? How could she, when he’d virtually ignored her for so many weeks?

Of course, after her run with Frank Doherty, she was gun-shy. Anyone but a fool would have been otherwise. She hadn’t even thought about opening her heart to another man, let alone one as dangerous as Sebastian. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d known he would be trouble. And boy was he ever.

When they were making love, she wasn’t thinking about anything but his body and the way he was making her feel. She wasn’t thinking about how she could get hurt. How he had the power to crush her if he wanted. He could do it, easily. But when she was alone, away from him, she couldn’t help but think about how unwise it was to be involved with a man like Sebastian Grayson. It had almost come as a relief when he left Star Harbor. She’d convinced herself it would mean the end of their relationship, and that such a clean break was for the best.

She couldn’t trust herself to love again. It was love that had the power to hurt you, that got in under your skin and made your heart ache and your stomach flutter. It made you confused and scared and needy, made you scream and cry and want to rip your hair out by its roots. Love wrecked everything.

But she loved Sebastian.

She couldn’t help it, and that fact scared her. Badly. If she told him how she felt, he’d want her to stay—to leave her life in Star Harbor and join him in New York. His glittery, fast-paced world was more than tempting. To be a part of his growing empire, to stand by his side as his new show and restaurant launched, would be utterly thrilling.

But the excitement was bound to fade and when it did, she’d be left with nothing. Relying on herself over the past few years had taught her that she needed—no, craved—the independence of working for herself. She couldn’t slip back into being the woman she once was, and she was afraid—so afraid—that she’d lose herself with Sebastian the way she had lost herself with Frank. She’d vowed never to suppress her own needs, her own desires, for anyone again. Not even for someone she truly loved.

As long as he had kept his feelings to himself, she’d been able to do the same. But he’d said the words, by accident or by design, forcing her to make a decision.

So despite what her heart was saying about Sebastian, Lexie knew that she had no choice. This time she would listen to her head.

Which was telling her quite clearly to run.

Lexie twisted her neck slightly so that she could watch Sebastian’s face while she made her escape. Gently, she took his wrist in her hand. Holding her breath, she slowly, ever so slowly, lifted his heavy arm up just enough for her to slide out from underneath it. With her free hand, she took a cushiony pillow and placed it where her body had been. Then she carefully lowered his arm back down to the pillow.

After a moment, Sebastian sighed and wrapped his arm fully around the pillow, pulling it close. Lexie silently released the breath she’d been holding and backed away from the bed, gathering up her clothes. She dressed in silence, watching him the whole time. He dozed on, oblivious to her furtive actions.

Giving him one last, lingering look—he’d never know how hard this was for her—she backed out of the room and crept down the hall. She knew he’d never hear the click of his front door opening and closing.

Nor would he ever forgive her for leaving him like this.