Page 94 of Right Where I Want You

When I was within reach, I pulled the tie holding back one curtain. “She probably stillis.”

“I think she hadpopcorn.”

“She does not,” I said as he moved to the other side. “What do you care anyway? You’re still completelydressed.”

He let out a low growl. “I don’t like to share mybuns.”

I untied the next sash. Renee lifted a hand just as the curtain fell shut. “This isn’t the time for jokes,” Isaid.

“You’re right. It’stimefor you to catch meup.”

Alone again, I drew back to look at him. “What?”

“My clothes,Georgina.”

Ah. I focused on the tanned skin I exposed with each button I undid, avoiding his heated stare as he walked us to the bed. He lay me back on the mattress, and I smoothed my hands over his chest to slide off his shirt. He closed his eyes as I continued down, down, down over each abdominal muscle. “I always knew you were difficult,” I said, “but I had no idea you were thishard.”

“You haven’t even gotten to the hard part,” hepromised.

21

Georgina

“There’ssomething I’ve been wanting to ask you,” Sebastiansaid.

My nerves flared. What was it about having me naked and at his mercy that made him think this was the Q&A portion of the night? Then again, this was stubborn Sebastian. He wouldn’t become someone else just because we were taking off our clothes. “Ask,” I said from under him, lowering hiszipper.

“On second thought—” He inhaled as I tucked my hand into his underwear to feel him. I stroked the full and impressive length of him—it came as no surprise that Sebastian had the dick to back up his energy. “Maybe this isn’t the right time,” he said. “My mind just went tomush.”

“Or this is theperfecttime.”

“You’re nothing like the other girls I’veknown.”

“If you’re about to insult me, remember that I have your cock in myhand.”

“Fuck.” He thrust his hips in a way that seemed involuntary. “Say that wordagain.”

I’d meant it as a joke, which was the only reason I’d blurted outcock. But he was asking me to be serious now, and there was something more urgent in the way his eyes devoured me. Apparently, there was a thin line between teasing and cock-teasing. “You gofirst.”

“Cock,” hesaid.

“No.” I smiled at his earnest expression. “Finish what you weresaying.”

“Since I met you, I’ve been feeling . . . more like myself than I have in a while. I put on an act to try to impress most women. Notyou.”

I would’ve beenimpressedif I’d held him earlier, all smooth skin, steel, and girth on my palm. “And?”

“Because of that, I can be myself. Iammyself. But what about you? Do I make you better?” He paused. “Can you see yourself withme?”

If I wasn’t mid-handjob, I would’ve hugged him. It was such a sweet, honest question to not only wonder, but ask. “The fact that you care enough to bring it up is your answer. Of course you’re good for metoo.”

“How?”

It was a lot to ask when I just wanted tofinallyconsume and be consumed. There was urgency in his question too, though. How had he made me better? For one, I’d begun to wonder if I still needed the security of putting on a personality to get through the day. “Where others see weakness, you see kindness,” I answeredquietly.

“I do,” he answered. “An abundance ofit.”

“You’ve shoved me out of my comfort zone. You might think I do that on my own, but I was in a rut before I met you. I just didn’t want to admit it. Now, I want more. You improve my life because you challenge me—and because you have a nicecock.”