She pivoted out of his arms and headed to the sliding glass door. On the deck, she slipped out of her sandals. He balanced himself in the doorway, hands on either side of the frame, his heart beating like native drums pounding out the rhythm of a sensual dance. Though they'd been taking it slow, she had to know how badly he wanted to feel every inch of her skin against his, to sink inside her, to hold her as he fell asleep and wake up clutching her tightly against him.
She flipped on the timer and bubbles rumbled up from the tub's jets. Grabbing a clip off the poolside table, she raised her arms to wind her hair into a knot that she secured in back. Sebastian found everything about her utterly erotic. Her dress still on, she stepped down into the water. "Perfect."
His suit jacket was way too hot against his skin. He'd kept it on because he'd had Braedon's check in his pocket, and he'd wanted to present it to her as if he were a hunter arriving home with a kill for his queen.
"Are you coming in?" Water frothed at the hem of her dress. Leaning over, she wet her fingers, then flicked them at him. Her playful smile tucked itself close to his heart.
"You first," he said, his voice harsh in his throat.
He silently willed her to strip off her dress. He'd never wanted anything so badly in his life--to see her glistening skin, her round breasts, smooth abdomen, and every treasure he'd dreamed of night after night.
Her smile was as seductive as Cleopatra enslaving Mark Antony. She curled her fingers into the dress's hem and teased it up even as she took another step down. She pulled it up, up, up and over her head as she sank into the swirling tub. He had a glimpse of pearled nipples and creamy skin before she tossed the dress on the deck and covered herself to the neck in bubbling water.
"Cheat," he said.
She laughed, the husky sound that drove him nuts. God, he wanted her. Her sweetness, her laughter, her heat. She was gorgeously naked in all that bubbling water. He didn't know if he had the capacity to join her without simply falling on her and taking everything he'd tortured himself with in the dark of the night. He almost couldn't remember why he hadn't already taken her to heaven. Could almost forget about his past, about needing to avoid toxic love at all costs. On top of that, he didn't want the sale of the rams to have anything to do with this moment.
Yet none of those reasons could stop him from kicking off his shoes and socks and tugging off his jacket. Buttons popped, skittered across the deck, and fell through the slats as he tossed his shirt. His pants came next and he kicked them aside before walking down into the water to join her, still wearing his boxers.
"Now who's the cheat?" she murmured softly above the churning water.
"Two can play that game." His hand reached out to her as if something else controlled him.
She floated to him. Then she was straddling him. The water was hot, steam rising, the stars overhead bright and shining down on her, turning her eyes a deep glittering green.
"Sebastian," she whispered, all the teasing suddenly gone.
She framed his face in her hands and lowered her mouth to his. His fingers flexed on the smooth skin of her hips, pulling her tightly against him. She rocked as she kissed him, sent him out of his mind with her lips, her tongue, the core of her body. Then he roamed, the pads of his fingers all over her pliable flesh. He caressed from her hips, down her thighs, and back up, close to her center, then traced her belly, her breasts, her shoulders, and back to her nipples. She moaned into his mouth as he played with the tips, teasing, flicking, pinching lightly.
She was hotter than the water, burning him straight through his boxers, her arms tight as she devoured his very essence. He took her hot nipple between his lips and she threw her head back, breathing out his name again. Hands molded to her torso, he sucked the sweet fruit as she quivered and quaked over him. He bit her gently, and she cried out, her fingernails deliciously scoring his shoulders. He wanted to make her come just like this, to bring her over with only his mouth and hands on her breasts.
"Sebastian, please."
He knew she was close, almost there, her breath puffing from her lips, then a gasp. In one swift move, he trailed a finger between her legs. Her eyes fluttered open as she looked at him in luscious surprise at the exact moment that the tremors began to roll through her, her eyes closing as her hips rolled in a perfect rhythm of pleasure over his hand again and again.
God, she was beautiful.
Finally, she opened her eyes. He was so mesmerized by her sexy smile and the hot light in her eyes that when she slid her hand inside his boxers and engulfed him with her palm, he nearly came undone.
"Let me taste you," she whispered. "I can't wait any longer to taste you."
He wanted her hands and mouth on him so badly that he surged out of the water and sat on the side of the tub before he could get his brain to start working again. Right then he didn't care whether the time was right, whether the sale of the rams had anything to do with it, or whether the two of them might emotionally destroy each other down the road. All he cared about was having her mouth on him before he went mad with desire for her and took her right here, right now, in the hot tub, with her naked creamy skin against his and no protection anywhere in sight.
*
Sebastian's torso was pure rippling muscle, so beautiful that Charlie's chest tightened simply looking at him. Proud, hard, magnificent. And begging for her.
Or maybe she was the one begging for him?
Of course, when pleasure came this sweet, it didn't matter who was begging, did it? She was smiling at the thought as she lowered her lips to him. His groan echoed into the night air as she tested, tasted, savored with her tongue.
His thigh muscles grew taut and his breath came out harshly, as if he'd been sprinting to get to her. She looked up into his beautiful tight features and reveled in the way she could make him feel, make him forget, make him want. And he wasn't the only one panting--she was too, as she gave him what they both needed, taking him deep. Then deeper still.
She had done this before, but it had never been so right. Because the truth was that being with Sebastian was unlike any other relationship she'd ever had. So good that she wanted to drink in every ripple of power coursing through his body, every harsh intake of breath, every rumble and groan. She loved tasting him on her tongue, loved grasping his hard flesh in her palm, loved knowing that she was giving him so much pleasure with her intimate kisses--just as much as he'd given her. She was utterly lost to the joy of loving Sebastian when his body arched and his hips moved in rhythm with her as he shouted out her name to the night sky above him.
Moments later, he was sliding back into the water and reeling her in with his arm around her shoulders, pulling her face into his deliciously salty skin. She licked him, adding the new taste to the heady ambrosia.
"You're incredible."
She smiled at him from within the circle of his arms, her body sated from his touch, the hot water turning her languid, his arm around her both comforting and sensual. "So are you."
Tonight had been perfect. Yes, she'd had a gut-twisting moment when she'd read through the contract, and another even bigger one when she'd signed it. And perhaps she was still more than a little worried about having to transform herself for the party at the hotel where they'd unveil her rams. But she wouldn't think about any of that now, would just keep telling herself it was completely natural to feel twinges of terror here and there as her art began to find its home outside of her yard.
Right now, all she wanted was to focus on the incredible pleasure that she and Sebastian had just found in each other's arms. Pleasure so sweet that her insides were still spinning from it. And there was so much more waiting for them the moment they were both ready to take the next step. They wanted the same thing--that when they finally made love, it would be exactly that.
Love.
She was so close to that already. Almost to the point of fully trusting Sebastian with her entire heart...just as she hoped he'd trust her with his.
&nbs
p; When he tightened his arms around her in the hot tub and they said the word at the same time--"Soon"--she knew it wouldn't be long before she trusted Sebastian with so much more than just her art and her career.
With absolutely everything.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The following morning, Charlie bypassed her workshop and headed straight for Sebastian's waiting car. Though they were going to Shady Lane to see her mom, she couldn't help the delighted, slightly wicked smile at the memory of last night--his touch, his taste, his splendor, and everything that was growing between them moment by moment.
"I'm happy to see you too, Charlie." He followed up his sweet words with a kiss that left her as breathless as if she'd just gone for a morning run.
A large box sat on the seat beside him. "Another gift for my mother?"
He grinned. "I enjoy giving her gifts. I hope she likes it."
"I can't imagine you doing or giving her anything she wouldn't love." Like mother, like daughter. It was enough that he gave her mother his time, but of course Sebastian always wanted to do more. "You're going to spoil her at this rate."
"Good. She deserves it."
She tried not to take his words as a condemnation of the little she'd been able to do for her mother, especially when he tucked her hand into his in the front seat of the car. Guilt, however, immediately reared its ugly little head, adding to her tension over today's meeting with the doctor Sebastian had brought in. She didn't want to make the mistake of getting her hopes up, but it was hard not to. Especially when she knew just how badly Sebastian wanted to make a difference in her mother's life. She hoped he would soon realize he already had, simply by offering his time so willingly.
She was actually quite nervous by the time they entered the nursing home. A tall, white-haired gentleman she knew didn't belong at Shady Lane strode toward them with a confident gait.
"Dr. Hillman." Sebastian shook the other man's hand. "I'm Sebastian Montgomery, and this is Charlie Ballard, Francine's daughter."
The doctor turned, then held her hand in both of his. "It's so good to meet you. I've just left your mother in the lounge. She's an absolute delight."
"She certainly is," Charlie agreed.
The white hair made the doctor appear older, though his features were unlined and his strong hands lacked even a hint of age spots. Rather than speaking to Sebastian, who'd called him, Dr. Hillman focused on Charlie. He cleared his throat, as though switching to professional mode. "I arrived early, so we've been getting acquainted. I did a cursory examination and I'm pleased to be able to tell you that her original surgeon was quite competent."
"I'm glad to hear that." More than glad, actually, both for her mother's sake...and because it was one less thing Charlie had to feel guilty about.
"Her pinkies are very elastic, but I wouldn't recommend putting in a new joint. She wouldn't see a quantifiable increase in usage. I'm afraid there's not much to be done with her other fingers, either. Even with another operation, she wouldn't gain any strength in her hands. I'm sorry, Ms. Ballard, but everything's been done for your mother that can be done."
"What about pain medication?" Sebastian had set his box on the counter, his face grave, the line of his lips flat. "Can we alleviate her pain?"
"She's already on pain management. There are other meds, but the results will be about the same. I'm afraid the pain will never be completely eradicated."
"But there has to be something." Sebastian's jaw flexed, and Charlie knew that the doctor's analysis was hitting him harder than it was her, because her expectations were so much lower.
She reached for Sebastian's hand and held on tight as Dr. Hillman said, "She's quite resilient. Many patients at her stage are confined to a wheelchair. She's good with a walker, and her pain level isn't debilitating. She has admirable tolerance."
"Admirable tolerance?" Sebastian's fingers squeezed Charlie's almost painfully, and an edge grated in his voice. Clearly, he wasn't used to not being able to fix something.
"I'm sorry I don't have better news for either of you."
"Thank you for coming to meet with her," Charlie said. A house call from a renowned surgeon was more than could be expected. But Sebastian had managed it. "It means a lot to us."
Sebastian finally seemed to shake himself, an actual tremor she felt through their clasped hands. "I appreciate your dropping everything to come by."
Dr. Hillman nodded. "I was happy to do it." The doctor shook their hands again before striding out the front door.
A nurse trundled the meds trolley past them, smiling politely. Charlie nodded in return.
"We'll get a second opinion," Sebastian said through gritted teeth when the nurse was out of earshot. "Something has to be done. Dr. Hillman's record said he was the best, but we can't leave it at that. Tell me more about the pain meds, Charlie."
"Mom could take stronger drugs, but they're highly addictive and the body builds up a tolerance to them eventually. The side effects can be worse than the pain, and she doesn't want to start down that road."
He closed his eyes briefly, then nodded once, a muscle still flexing in his jaw. "I understand." But as he picked up the box, she wasn't sure he truly did. Helping people make their lives better was Sebastian's calling. Not being able to help her mother--just as he'd been unable to help his parents--had the potential to hurt him. Badly. "Let's go see your mom."
She held on to him one moment longer. "Thank you for everything. Even if we can't find any other ways to make her feel better, you've already made such a big difference for her." And for me too.
"We'll find something." His face was determined. "For all we know, the ankle guy I've contacted might come to a different conclusion."
Charlie already knew how deeply Sebastian cared for the people who mattered to him. His friends, his foster parents. And now her mother. Though she was worried he was going to end up disappointed by the doctors he was bringing in, she couldn't dim his hope.
"So," she said as they headed down the hall toward the lounge, hoping to shift his mood back to the smiles he'd been giving her earlier, "what's in the box?"
She'd asked him the same question a half-dozen times since getting in the car. And he hadn't so much as cracked. "Are you this impatient with your own presents?"
"I'm killer at Christmas. Mom and I have a deal that we only spend twenty dollars, but if you get freebies, like buy-one-get-one-free, then the free one doesn't count against the twenty bucks. Something from a thrift store like Goodwill is okay too. We don't care if it's used."
His mouth was still tight, as if he couldn't let go of the failure with the doctor, but she could tell that he was trying to shake it off. "Sounds like a lot of fun."
"It can take an hour to open all the little gifts we buy each other."
"What about birthdays?"
"Same thing. Twenty dollars." With his hand in hers, she led him down the hall.
"When's your birthday?"
She sidestepped a man in a wheelchair, giving him a brief pat on the shoulder. "Hi, Kurt." Then she answered Sebastian's question. "December. I'm a Sagittarius. What about you?"
"April. Aries."
She couldn't remember whether Sagittarius and Aries were complete opposites or a perfect match. She'd never been into astrology. And no matter what the stars said, nothing was going to ruin the beautiful connection she and Sebastian were building.
"And your mom?"
"January." She could almost see him planning ahead. But December and January were long past her deadline for the sculpture, long past the point when she would be moving out of his guesthouse and back into her own home.
But she didn't want to think about the end.
Not when every new day gave her hope that there wouldn't be one.
*
Frustration simmered through Sebastian's veins as they entered the lounge. Francine, wearing a pretty flowered dress, was seated in her usual spot on the sofa.
He felt helpless, just like every time he'
d walked into his parents' home only to find them totally blitzed. Again. For five long years after he'd moved into Susan and Bob's crowded but caring household, he kept returning in an effort to get help for his parents. And it had torn him up every single time, especially when nothing he tried to do to help them worked.
Damn it, Dr. Hillman should have been able to fix Francine's hands, do surgery, prescribe a treatment--at least give her some damn pain medication that worked without getting her hooked or having terrible side effects.
"Charlie, Sebastian." Francine held out her gnarled fingers, her smile so big and sweet, despite the lines of age and pain on her face.
"Sebastian brought you a present, but even though I've been pestering him, he won't tell me what it is." Charlie slid into the chair next to her mother and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"You're such a little girl when it comes to presents." Francine's wrinkled face glowed with fondness. "I am too." She grinned up at Sebastian. "What did you bring?"
Sitting next to her, he also kissed the soft, paper-thin skin of her cheek. "You're as bad as your daughter," he said, keeping his tone light. He wouldn't take his frustrations out on either of them. Instead, he'd do more research. He'd find another doctor.
He'd do something.
For now, he simply pulled a penknife from his pocket and slit the tape along the top, then pulled out a second box.
As soon as Francine saw the picture on the outside, she put her hands over her mouth. "Oh my."
"What is it?" Charlie moved the bigger box out of the way so that she could see the picture too.
"A paraffin bath," her mother said, tears glistening in her eyes. "This is the sweetest gift a man has ever brought me. Thank you. You're such a darling man."
Her glow did his heart good after Hillman's disappointment. "I did some research, and the heat of the paraffin wax sounds like it might help ease some of the pain. It comes with gloves you put on after you dunk. Then you start to feel the heat transfer from the wax into your hands. There's a temperature control, and paraffin has a lower melting point than candle wax, so it doesn't burn your skin."
Francine put a hand on his arm, her touch as delicate as a hummingbird's. "Sebastian, you are sweet as the dickens."