First Comes Marriage (Aster Bay #3)

Chapter Six

“That’s definitely the one.” Sabrina stabbed her finger at the photo on Sebastian’s phone.

It had taken several tries before they had managed to snap the selfie of the two of them without his thumb in the frame, or one of them making a weird face. But the final image, of Sabrina sitting on his lap at the bar, his hand curled around her waist and tugging her back against his chest, was perfect. Holly was going to lose her mind.

Sabrina wiggled happily in his lap. Beneath her, Sebastian’s cock stirred, and a strange new giddiness bubbled up behind Sabrina’s lips.

“Send it to me and I’ll post it,” she said.

“You’re sure she’ll see it?” He handed her his phone to type in her number and send off the image.

“Oh yeah.” She pulled her own phone out, her fingers flying over the screen. “Holly is an Instagram addict. There.” She turned the phone to show him her handiwork. Above a photo of a hunk of clay on a pottery wheel, their selfie was posted with the caption “Second time’s a charm #Reunited.”

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now we wait.”

She slid off his lap and moved back to her own bar stool. Instantly she missed the pressure of his hand on her waist, the impressive bulge in his pants growing larger beneath her.

Heat crawled up her neck as she looked away. “I hate waiting.”

He barked out a laugh that surprised them both, her mouth quirking up into a delighted grin.

“What if we take one more? Just to be sure she’ll see it?” she asked.

Before he could respond, she was back in his lap, her ass pressed against his groin as she leaned back into his chest. He banded his arm around her waist, holding her against him as he thickened beneath her. She wiggled her hips experimentally and his hand tightened on her waist.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

She turned to see him better, her head resting on his shoulder. A deep crevice had formed between his brows, his pupils blown large until they were ringed by the thinnest band of blue.

“I have an idea,” she said.

He raised his phone, camera at the ready, the shutter snapping as she pressed her lips to the place where his pulse thrummed against his throat. He sucked in a sharp breath as her mouth brushed his skin and something deep and hungry thrilled within her.

Sebastian had always been handsome—actually, handsome was too mundane of a word. He was beautiful. Ice blue eyes and sharp cheekbones, all angles and muscle, a predatory grace to his movements despite his grunts and silence. And just then, with her face tucked against his throat and the scent of him surrounding her—something spicy and luxurious, like cardamom and old books—he had never been more beautiful.

“Did you get it?” she asked, her lips still grazing his throat.

“One more. To be sure,” he rumbled.

She smiled and kissed him again, this time closer to his Adam’s apple, tilting her face up towards the sharp line of his jaw, and listened for the click of the camera. When she pulled away, his eyes were closed, that crevice between his brows even more pronounced. She ran her thumb over it, smoothing out the skin.

He opened his eyes slowly, as though waking from a dream, and studied her for a moment before he cleared his throat, moving her off his lap and quickly sending her the photo. “I think I got it.”

She squirmed in her seat, squeezing her thighs together, and opened the photo. She was wrong. Sebastian wasn’t just beautiful. He was stunning. And they looked good together, him in his suit and her in her silk blouse and pencil skirt. Better than good. They looked like they belonged together.

With a few swipes, the photo was posted, this time with the caption, “Missed you #StartingOver.”

“I really did miss you, ya know,” she said, showing him the post.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you remember that time we were waiting for Longfield Farm to make the produce delivery and we found that old Clue game in the break room?”

Sebastian’s lip twitched. “It was missing all the weapon pieces.”

Sabrina lowered her voice in a poor approximation of his. “It was Colonel Mustard in the billiard’s room with the paperclip!” He laughed and her gaze caught on the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

As his laughter died away, their eyes met. He swallowed, his lips and throat doing all kinds of interesting things. “Yeah, wildflower. I remember.”

Something settled inside her at the sound of the nickname he’d given her so long ago. She’d never thought she’d hear it again, yet here they were…

For a moment, it looked like he had something else to say, but then he took another sip of his drink instead—she’d lost count of how many they’d had at that point—as her phone buzzed in her hand.

“Ha! I knew it!” she crowed, swiping open the message from her sister.

“What does it say?”

She grinned as she read the message aloud. “ What the actual fuck?” She glanced at Sebastian and they both burst out laughing until she was nearly doubled over the bar, his arm appearing across her back, fingers digging into her hip to hold her up.

“Mission accomplished?” he asked.

She lifted her glass, clinking it against his. “I’ll drink to that.”

Their laughter died as they returned to their drinks, his hold on her slowly loosening. When she thought he was about to pull away, he instead gripped the edge of her stool and spun her to face him.

“Want to really make her mad?”

“Vindictive Sebastian is fun,” she giggled. “What did you have in mind.”

He stared at her for a long moment, studying her eyes, and she started to wonder if he’d forgotten that it was his turn to speak. Or was it hers? She’d had more margaritas than she’d ever consumed in one sitting and it had to be long past dinner time by now. Maybe she was supposed to say something and she’d forgotten? She opened her mouth and he pressed a long, thick finger against her lips, his expression growing stern.

With his other hand Sebastian waved his phone towards the bartender. Phillip must have taken the phone because Sebastian’s hand slid into her hair, pushing it behind her ear and trailing down the curve of her skull to grip the back of her neck. Her eyes darted between his, taking in the deep concentration there, the way his gaze flitted across her face, over the bridge of her nose, down the line of her jaw.

“Sebastian? ”

“If you were really mine, I’d need your mouth on more than my neck,” he said, the sound deep and low as it dragged across her skin, drawing her nearer. “I’d need to taste those pretty lips.”

He pressed his lips to hers and her mind filled with static. The world tilted on its axis, and she reached up to grip his wrist, steadying herself with his solidness. He kissed with that same predatory grace she’d clocked earlier, slow and deep, like he was pulling her through water, drugging her with each movement of his mouth over hers. When his tongue slid against her own, a slow glide of velvet teasing her, she whimpered and leaned closer. The hand on her nape was firm, though, and he held her in place, kept her exactly where he wanted her as he obliterated her senses with his kiss.

She was drunk on him, on his scent and his touch and the expert movement of his mouth—or maybe that was the tequila talking. It didn’t matter. She felt like she was floating, fizzy and bubbly and lighter than air, and at the same time she’d never felt more aware of her own body, of the tingling heat crawling up her spine and the deep, pleasant ache gathering between her legs.

When he pulled away, she leaned forward, chasing his lips. She would have fallen out of her seat if he hadn’t still been holding her.

“Did you get it?” he asked, though he kept his eyes—and hands—on her.

“Oh, I got it alright,” the bartender replied with a chuckle, setting Sebastian’s phone down on the bar in front of them.

They stayed like that for what could have been seconds or hours—she didn’t know. She’d lost all sense of time, of what was up and what was down. Finally, his lips pulled into a slow, sexy smirk, and she felt her mouth mimicking the movement.

She laughed, still holding his wrist, and delighted in the way his smile grew. She slid off her stool and stood between his thighs, watching in fascination as his eyes grew darker. “What next?”