Five

Ali

He kissed me. He actually kissed me.

Sebastian Maxwell kissed me again after so many years—right there in Ken Gentry’s master bedroom.

Did I mention he kissed me?

In full disclosure, I might have kissed him back.

Not immediately though. At first I was shocked, so I froze in a motionless stupor when he cupped my head with one of his big hands and tilted it up to meet his. I was trapped between him and the wall, but I wasn’t scared. I was stunned.

And a little turned on.

I don’t know about other women, but when I’m arguing with a guy or having an awkward conversation or getting my head banged against the wall, I don’t expect to get kissed. So I just stood there for a few seconds, feeling his lips, his big, hard body, his heat.

But then my body got interested, reacting far faster than my mind. So I somehow ended up lifting one of my hands to cling to his firm bicep. And I arched my spine slightly so my breasts were pressing against his chest. And I raised my other arm to reach up behind his neck.

My head spun with surprise and sensation, so I felt totally out of control. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was different than kissing him felt when we were teenagers, but just as good. Maybe even better. Pleasure and excitement buzzed through my body as my mouth opened of its own accord. Then his tongue was in my mouth, and my own tongue seemed to like it since it kept sliding against his in some sort of instinctive dance.

“Ali,” he murmured against my mouth when we’d broken apart just enough to breathe. His hand still cupped the back of my head, protecting it from the wall, and the other hand had settled at the small of my back.

I thought he might say something else, explain how this inexplicable thing was happening. But he didn’t. He just said my name and claimed my lips again.

I honestly had no objections. My blood was pulsing now with the feel of him, with the desire for more of him.

I straightened my arm until I could tangle my fingers in his thick hair as he kissed me long and hard.

His hand slid down until he was palming my bottom, and it felt intimate, vulnerable. His body seemed to be tightening in a delicious way, and I couldn’t keep from rubbing myself against it as our lips and tongues tangled together.

My skin was burning with a flush of pleasure, and I felt a new kind of pulsing between my legs. It was so overwhelming that I used all the energy I had to turn my head away from his and pant desperately, trying to make my mind work again, trying to get my body to settle down before I did something crazy like start to tear Sebastian’s clothes off.

He was pressing little kisses against my cheek and jaw, and he used the span of my bottom to press me more closely to his groin. “You are just as delectable as you used to be, Ali,” he murmured hoarsely. “You’re the only woman who could ever make me crazy with just a kiss.”

And the words sent my head spinning even more, speaking to something I desperately wanted to hear, wanted to feel. I gasped in a ragged breath and arched my neck, leaning back against the hand that still cupped my head.

“I’m going to kiss you again,” he said, his green eyes devouring my face with a hunger I needed to feel. “Just so you know.”

“Oh.” That was me. Brilliant as ever.

He smiled—half-hot and half-tender. “Damn, you’re so beautiful and... and just as sweet as you were before. I might never stop kissing you.”

And that sounded even better to me. I pressed my whole body into his. My lips parted as I waited needily for more of him. He couldn’t have mistaken how desperately I wanted him. My desire must have been obvious in every way.

He stared down at me for a minute, just on the edge of the kiss. I don’t know exactly what he saw in me, but he seemed to like it because the fire blazed hotter in his eyes and his body tightened even more.

He was hard against me now, aroused in a way that caused desire to clench in me too.

I was trembling with need when he finally leaned back down into another kiss. This one was just as deep, just as eager, just as overwhelming.

I dug my fingernails into the back of his neck as my body rocked in response. When he finally released my mouth and started to kiss his way down my neck, I gasped out the only word I could shape. “Sebastian.”

He grunted in response, pushing his arousal into my middle.

“Sebastian,” I gasped again, suddenly realizing that I was so far gone that I might let him lay me down on the bed a few feet away and go a lot further than a kiss.

And that was the clear thought that finally sliced through the hot haze of pleasure and emotion.

Because this wasn’t just a hot guy named Sebastian who was attracted to me for some reason. This was Sebastian Maxwell. And not only had his family’s company ruined everything important to me, but he’d also proven himself in the past to be an arrogant, entitled rich boy who believed he could have anything he wanted.

Including me.

And the worst thing was I’d almost let him do it again.

I wrenched myself away from him so abruptly that I slammed my head against his hand, banging it against the wall in a way that must have hurt his knuckles.

He sucked in a quick breath and pulled his hand away, freeing me from that part of the embrace.

I took two fast steps to the side to pull away from his other arm until there was more distance between us.

“What the hell?” he asked, looking surprised and bewildered and flushed as if he’d been as wrapped up in the kiss as I was.

I wiped at my lips with my hand, trying to wipe away the feel of him on me.

It didn’t work. I could still feel him everywhere.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his expression clearing as if he’d gotten his mind to work again. He took a step toward me.

I backed away. “Don’t touch me!”

He blinked and froze where he was. “What’s the matter, Ali? Did I hurt you or something? I promise I didn’t mean to. I might have gotten a little carried away, but I don’t think I would have—”

“You didn’t hurt me. Just don’t ever kiss me again.” It was a kind of bleak panic, paired with nauseated disgust, that I’d let myself go so far with a man whom I needed to stay away from, whom I needed to resent.

“What the hell are you talking about? You were into it too. I didn’t force myself on you. We’ve always had this fire between us, and you know it as well as I do.”

“I didn’t say you forced yourself on me. But I know what you’re like. What you’ve always been like. You think because your daddy is rich you can take anything you want and then throw it away when you’re tired of it. You think you deserve it just because of who you are. And I’m telling you now that you’ll never have me again—so just stay away from me from now on.”

The surprise on his face was transforming to confused indignation. “Where is this coming from? I know I made a mistake before. I admit it. But I’m not going to do that again. If you don’t want to kiss me, then don’t kiss me. Don’t act like I’m pushing myself on a naïve virgin.”

I wasn’t a virgin—Sebastian had taken care of that when I was seventeen—but I was still pretty inexperienced with men since I hadn’t done any dating at all in the past few years. That wasn’t the point though. The point was that he was acting like I was irrational and unfair when he was a Maxwell.

He was a Maxwell.

“Just stay away from me,” I gritted out, wiping my mouth again as I tried to pull myself together. I walked quickly toward the door of the room. “Stay away from me.”

He didn’t reply, and he didn’t follow me out.

Maybe he’d gotten the point.

If only I could get the point too.

***

I went back to Cheryl’s office to do some tedious paperwork and try to get my mind off Sebastian. It didn’t work, and it was almost seven when I finally got home.

My dad was sitting in front of the television, as usual. There were only two empty beer bottles on the coffee table, so maybe this would be one of his better days. Tyler wasn’t there. He was almost never at home. I knew he went out with his friends. I knew he drank and got into trouble. I hated it, but there was nothing I could do to stop him. Anything I said to him washed off him like water, barely even leaving him damp.

I gave my dad a greeting, which he grunted in response to. Then I knocked on Rosie’s bedroom.

When she replied, I opened the door and found her reading on her bed, as usual.

“How’s it going?” I asked, coming in to sit on the edge of her bed.

“Fine.” She barely looked up from the book.

“What are you reading?”

She lifted the book so I could read the cover. It was evidently a romance novel by an author I wasn’t familiar with. I hoped it was appropriate for her age level.

“Is it good?” I tried again.

“It’s okay. Kind of silly.”

“Silly in what way?”

“Just the idea that meeting a hot man can totally change your life. It’s like all her problems miraculously get better because this guy falls for her.”

I thought about that for a minute before I responded, “Yeah. I’m glad you don’t think that’s true.”

She snorted and lowered the book. “I’m not stupid, you know. It doesn’t matter how hot the guy is. You’re still stuck with the same crap in your life you had before.”

I was actually astounded by the insight of the remark, however inelegantly it was phrased. I’d always known Rosie was intelligent and good at school—just like me—but she was usually so quiet that I often had no idea what kinds of thoughts she had. “How’d you get to be so smart?”

She just rolled her eyes.

“But it might be nice to have a guy anyway,” I said, remembering how I’d felt when I was her age, desperately wanting a boyfriend but too embarrassed to admit it.

She rolled her eyes again.

“Is there anyone you like?”

“Not really. They’re all stupid athletes or stupid artsy types or stupid assholes.”

“Surely some of them aren’t stupid.”

“Maybe.” She glanced away, which made me realize there was a guy in particular she was interested in.

“Anyone you can think of?”

“No.”

That meant she wasn’t going to tell me. I felt kind of disappointed but not surprised.

“If you think guys are so great to have,” Rosie added, her expression changing, “then why don’t you have one?”

I was suddenly uncomfortable in an entirely different way. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you think I should have a boyfriend—”

“I don’t think you should have—”

She talked on as if I hadn’t interrupted. “Then why don’t you have one.”

“You don’t just wake up one day and decide to get a boyfriend, you know.”

“I know. But you’re really pretty. I’m sure someone would go out with you if you made yourself available.”

“I don’t have time or interest in going out to clubs and bars and hoping someone will pick me up.”

“Yeah, but there are other things you can do. It’s like you don’t think you deserve it.”

My shoulders stiffened. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a dramatic shrug, picking up her book again. “It’s just like you think you have to be a drudge because all the shitty stuff happened to us, so you won’t do anything that might start to pull yourself out.”

“I’m not going to pull myself out and leave the rest of you behind.” I was hurt that she would even think that.

“I guess.”

The conversation was obviously over, and I was almost relieved. While I was glad Rosie had said a little more than normal, her words left me feeling disoriented and confused.

I didn’t think she was right. I had done everything I reasonably could in the past few years to make a decent life for my family and me. I was even going to great lengths to try now to find evidence that would give my father everything he deserved. There weren’t all these great opportunities that I’d been missing, so Rosie was wrong. Or at least exaggerating.

I patted her leg. “Did you have anything for dinner?”

She shook her head, her eyes focused on the book.

“I’ll fix something now.”

I left the room, closing the door behind me, still feeling kind of shaky and uncertain.

I went to the kitchen and found some pasta and jarred spaghetti sauce, so I cooked it up quickly. Rosie and I ate together—she was reading the whole time—and my dad said he wasn’t hungry, so he didn’t leave the television.

After I’d cleaned up, I really wanted to go to bed early, but I sat down in a chair next to my dad’s recliner. He hadn’t drunk as much as normal, so maybe we could have a conversation.

I told him a few things that the school had reported about Rosie and Tyler, just so he’d know what was going on with them. He looked away from the TV long enough to nod at me.

Then, feeling rattled by a very long, strange day, I just blurted out, “I’m working for Ken Gentry.”

My dad blinked and stared at me.

“Not for him, really. I work for Cheryl, but she’s doing a job for Gentry.”

“He has no idea who you are?”

I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t have a clue.”

“Not a surprise. Guys like him only think about the dollar signs.”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you doing it?”

“It’s my job.”

“Yeah, but why are you doing it?”

“I just wanted to see if there’s anything I can...” I trailed off. My plan was silly enough. Saying it out loud made it somehow even sillier.

My dad let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair. “It won’t do any good. Men like Gentry and Maxwell don’t change. Even if they think they’re being decent, they still live with the belief that anything they want is theirs by default. No one else matters in that equation. If you’re born with that belief, it doesn’t change—even if you want it to. Nothing you do is going to change them.”

I was strangely hit by the words—with an almost poignant realization. That was Sebastian. He didn’t seem like a bad guy. Not really. But he was a Maxwell. And he believed he could have anything he wanted. And that was never going to change.

At heart, he was just like his father.

I felt weird and reluctant and guilty, but I’d been right to push him away. I couldn’t let myself fall for Sebastian again because he would never give me what I needed.

Dating him again wasn’t going to miraculously rescue me from all the crap in my life. It would only bring more, just like it had before.

And my life already had more crap in it than I could deal with.

“You should quit,” my dad said out of the blue.

“What?”

“You should quit. Your job.”

I stared at him in shock. “What are you talking about? I need the job. I need to earn a living.” I didn’t add that, if I didn’t work, the whole family would starve. I was sure my dad already knew that. Drinking couldn’t drown knowledge like that.

“You always wanted to work in a museum, didn’t you?”

“I can’t get the kind of job I want. I haven’t been to college.”

“I thought you were going to try to take classes online.”

“I was. I am. It’s just slow. And it’s hard when you’re already working fifty hours a week, plus trying to help around the house.” Again, I made sure to keep any resentment out of my voice.

“That’s the kind of job you get stuck in. You don’t enjoy what you’re doing, and you’re never valued or appreciated for it. Believe me. Don’t waste your life in that kind of job. It will bite you in the ass eventually.”

That was exactly what had happened to him. It made my heart ache to think about it.

But I was going to do something to make it better. I was going to do whatever I had to do to bring things to right. At least as right as I could make them.

“We do what we have to do,” I said at last.

“Yeah. I guess we do.”

He swallowed the rest of his beer and turned back to the TV. He’d be in this same position tomorrow morning when I woke up.

He was trapped now, just like he’d been trapped in his no-win job. I was more determined than ever to finally free him.

And the only way to do that was to focus on my mission and put Sebastian Maxwell from my mind completely.

So that was what I would do.