He was hitting too close to home. Like he knew exactly how I felt. Like no matter what I did, I was never going to be good enough. That no matter how hard I tried, I would always be the screwup. Because you're trying to fit a round peg into a square hole. I shook that thought. The difference was he was a prince, and he could make the world what he wanted. If he wanted to have all the time in the world to go paint or to write a book, or to chase women, then he could find the time, make the time, and do that. Sure, the king was disappointed. But he would eventually become king and do those great things. He had more freedom.

“You can’t have that painting. It’s not for sale. It reminds me of a place I once visited."

"Well, it reminds me of home."

I glanced up at him with a smile. "Where's home?" Of course, I knew the answer to that. But given I was doing the whole undercover thing, I was supposed to ask.

"Florida. Key West, actually."

I vaguely remembered a trip to Key West the royal family had taken. I'd been six, so that meant he'd been almost eleven at the time. My father had gone along as King's Guard.

He’d managed to arrange for his family to come as well. Not that Sebastian would remember that. "Oh. I've never been," I lied smoothly. "It's just a little painting. It's not anything special."

"And that's where you're wrong. You need to believe it’s special in order for someone else to believe it too." He stepped closer. "I have to insist that you sell it to me. Name your price."

I shifted on my feet. "I couldn't charge you." How had this night gone from drunken intel gathering to him trying to buy my art?

He stepped even closer, and I fought both the urge to flee and to lean in and start climbing him like a tall tree.

"I am going to have to insist. I want that painting, and I would like it to be a fair exchange. So you give me something I want, and I give you something you want. Usually it's money."

He was standing so close I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks. I swallowed hard. "I'm telling you. It's not for sale. I'll just give it to you for free. For services rendered toward helping me move in or something."

Sebastian shook his head. "It's worth something to me. And I want to show you that."

“Why are you insisting?" My voice came out as a whisper. Get it together, Penny.

"Because I think it’s special. And I think you need to acknowledge that you have a great gift. So how much?"

He wasn't going to let up. "Okay then, the price is a dollar."

He pursed his lips. "Make that a thousand."

My eyes went wide and my mouth hung open. "Are you insane? That's too much. And besides, you work at a bar. How do you have a thousand dollars?" Yeah, okay.

"I'm good for it."

“That’s crazy.”

His lips tipped up and a smirk. "How do you know I don't own the bar? Or the property it's on, or all the property surrounding it? I just like working at the bar so I can meet people."

I frowned. "Do you own the bar?"

 He shrugged. "I'm not telling you until you sell me that painting."

I threw up my hands. "But it's just a painting. I can paint six others just like it right now."

He shook his head. "Somehow I doubt that. Somehow, I think you saw this exact image in your head, and you wanted to paint it. And because of that, and because it reminds me of home, I want to buy it. Because it’s beautiful. So just let me."

“Okay, fine. If you want to buy it, it's all yours."

He grinned at me. "Now was that so hard?"

"Yes, if you really must know it—"

I didn't get to finish. Sebastian closed the distance between us and then his mouth whispered over mine in the hint of a kiss.

"Jesus, woman, do you ever stop talking?"

Too stunned to speak, all I could do was shake my head. And for a moment we stood frozen in our embrace, him with his hand on my face, fingertips tickling the hair at the nape of my neck, and me trying desperately to figure out just what was happening here.

Then his fingers gently pressed into my neck, and I didn't care anymore. All I wanted was his lips on mine for real and to hell with the consequences.

Sebastian slid his lips over mine, licking into my mouth. Giving me these drugging kisses. It was all I could do to hold on. My hands clutched his shirt, my head swam, and my knees threatened to buckle. Good lord, Prince Sebastian could fucking kiss.

Someone was making a mewling, desperate sound. Where was that coming from?

Oh yeah, that was me as I tried to get closer.

My only consolation was that he seemed just as desperate. As he dragged my body to his, his hand latched into my hair and he angled my head in place so that he could deepen the kiss. With every stroke of his tongue over mine, I melted. With every lick, it became more apparent to me that I was dealing with a bona fide kissing expert.

Against my belly, his erection throbbed. Jesus lord. His erection was thick, insistent, and I could feel the searing heat of his length as he pulsed against me. My knees wobbled as I rocked my hips into him, seeking more contact. With a low groan, he slid a hand down my back and over my ass and tucked me tighter against him.

But then suddenly, as quickly as he’d begun kissing me, he released me and stumbled backwards.

It took me a moment to drag my eyelids open and fix my gaze on his. He panted shallow breaths in and out, whereas I couldn't breathe at all. My lungs had ceased working along with my brain. I might pass out any second from oxygen deprivation.

What the hell had just happened?

Sebastian shook his head. "Shit, I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that." And then he frowned slightly as if not sure where he was or why he was just kissing me. "I—I’m going to go. I was serious about that painting though. I'll be getting that check to you tomorrow."

“Sebastian, I—"

I didn't get to finish. He had the last word as he stormed out of my apartment.

Well hell.

* * *

What the hell was that? I hadn’t meant to kiss her. That hadn’t even been on my mind. And given the state she was in at the bar, there was no way I'd ever intended on kissing her. So then what the hell happened?

All I knew was that I was standing there, trying to do her a favor, and she was telling me no. It pissed me off. It also intrigued me, but mostly it pissed me off. Then I just wanted her to be quiet and stop trying to tell me her work wasn’t good. She’d been going on and on, and the only thing I could think to do to shut her up was to kiss her.

You wanted to kiss her.

No. I didn't.

Len was all wrong. She was sloppy, she always had paint on her somewhere, and she talked a mile a minute. And, she really, really, got under my skin. Someone like that would drive me up a fucking wall. But shit, I couldn’t get her out of my head. And now that I’d tasted her, I couldn’t stop thinking about how she smelled, how she tasted, and God help me, the sounds she made.

You can’t always have what you want, Sebastian. Her words clanged around in my head.

Both she and Lucas seemed able to tell me no with no problem. I wasn’t sure I liked it. So I’d gone all caveman and kissed her. There was something seriously wrong with me. Len was different. Len is trouble. I tended to date refined socialites.

And maybe that is part of the problem.

Maybe that was why I was so bored with that part of my life.

Desperately trying to sleep, I fluffed the pillow, tucked it under my neck, and then when that didn't work and I couldn't get comfortable, I flopped facedown onto the pillow. The problem was in that position my dick was throbbing and hurting. And it was going to get more than uncomfortable. I returned to my side, resolutely ignored my throbbing cock. But every time I closed my eyes, I could feel her lips against mine. Feel her soft, satiny skin.

Hell.

My damn dick wasn't going to be ignored. Now that I’d tasted Len, it seemed I couldn't keep my shit together.

I'd sworn to myself that I could do this. Sworn that I could keep my head straight. But next thing I knew, there I was making out with her. Okay, that wasn't exactly making out. It had been just a kiss. A perfectly innocent kiss. Yeah innocent. That was one hell of a story I was trying to spin to myself. Kissing her had been like strapping a rocket to my dick. And worse, I wanted to do it again.

With a curse, I rolled onto my back, and my dick made a nuisance of itself by tenting my boxers. The damn thing wasn't going to go away until I did something about it, even though I’d sworn I wouldn’t.

With a frustrated growl, I slid my hands into my boxers. And of course, my dick twitched. Damn thing was hard as steel. Just because of one stupid kiss? "Okay, I hear you. She tasted good. But we can’t have her. I’m going to take care of this, and then we’re not going to do this again. This stops now. This is not why we're here."

Then I closed my eyes and took my cock in my hand while images of Len danced in my head.