Late Nights & Love Lines (Single Dad Hotline #2)

29. Feet sweeping

29

FEET SWEEPING

SEBASTIAN

“ N ick’s in New York,” Alexei says without looking up from his computer screen.

“We knew he would be.” Beck grunts. He too is focused on the screen in front of him.

“What are the chances of him getting into the gala?” My voice is eerily calm for someone discussing the possibility of running into the man who attempted to ruin my life.

“He’s not on the guest list,” Elijah says. He has two screens going, and his eyes scan from one to the other and back again. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t be a guest.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell this group of men who have become more of a family than I’ve ever had. “Mya’s father won’t back him if he doesn’t have his own capital, and when I stripped him of the shares of my company, he lost any chance he had. He wasn’t born into money the same way we were.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alexei grumbles. But I know damn well he wasn’t destitute growing up.

Nick was. It’s what made him dangerous. He has a thirst you can never understand unless you’ve had to fight for everything you’ve ever had, but somewhere along the line, he lost the compass that told him right from wrong.

“He’s not going to roll over and go away though.” Beck taps the end of his pen on the table while staring at the wall behind me.

“No, he won’t.”

Alexei slams his fist down on the table. “You gave that fucker everything, Seb. You trusted him completely even after I told you not to.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” The words are quiet but sharp as knives. “You don’t think I own the pain he caused my children every goddamn day?”

Remorse flashes across his face. “That’s not what I meant. I’m pissed at him, not at you.”

“I know.”

“That shit won’t happen here,” Beck says, pointing at each of us. “From here on out, we’re family. We have each other’s backs.”

“Do you want that in a blood oath?” Elijah asks. He smirks while waiting for Beck’s response. He loves to get under Beck’s skin the same way Alexei does with me.

“Fuck right off,” Beck says without looking up. “There’s been enough betrayal in our lives. I won’t stand for that shit ever again—we won’t stand for it.”

My phone rings, and the smile their comradery lit is instantly wiped away.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

All three faces turn my way as I hit the accept button.

“Mya.”

“Seb.”

Did she fucking sigh into the phone as though I bring her comfort? I want to destroy this woman.

“What?”

“We need to talk,” she whispers.

“Why are you whispering?”

Alexei rounds the conference table and sits next to me. Placing his phone on the table, he hits record at the same time that I put her on speaker.

“I’m not, but we…I need to speak with you. It’s important. Please, hear me out, and then you’ll never hear from me again.” Her speech pattern is off. Alexei and I share a confused glare.

“Are you drunk?”

“No. Just, please. We need to get together so I can speak to you. Does tomorrow work?”

“You’re in the country?” I seethe. All this time she’s been here and couldn’t be bothered to call her kids.

“Yes, but it’s…complicated. I’ll come by the house?—”

“We don’t live in Boston anymore, Mya.” My body is vibrating with rage. “If you ever fucking called your children, you would know that. You’d also know why returning to Boston isn’t an option unless I want my daughter to be destroyed by your actions.”

“Our daughter,” she says quietly.

“Fuck you, Mya,” I roar. “Our daughter, are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Beck stands from the table and shuts the conference room door, then he rounds the table to sit on my other side. The men in this room build an invisible wall around me and my family, keeping us safe within their guard, and it’s because of them I’m able to regain a semblance of control.

“Tell me when and where, Sebastian.” Her words are barely audible.

I raise a brow to Alexei. Is she high?

Beck scribbles a note on a piece of paper and slides it to me. It’s an address in Manhattan. Under it, he’s written Crystal Waters. It’s an office building.

“Day after tomorrow, Mya. Be at this address.” I recite what Beck wrote down. “You’ll have fifteen minutes of my time, but I swear to Christ, if Nick is anywhere near the building, I’ll walk right out.”

“I’ll be there.”

That’s all she says, and every tear my children have shed over this piece of shit comes flashing back.

“Do you even want to know how the kids are?” I’m vibrating with so many emotions my teeth chatter.

“I—I’ll see you in New York, Sebastian.”

She hangs up, and my phone screen fades to black.

“She didn’t even ask about them,” I mumble. “How do I tell them that she called and never once fucking asked about them?”

“You don’t,” Beck says quietly. “They’ll be better off without her.”

My phone vibrates and we all look down, expecting something menacing from the viper of a woman I used to call my wife.

Rowan: I called Stella to check on Kade.

Rowan: They’re still having fun at the trampoline park.

Rowan: Just thought you’d want to know.

Alexei snorts beside me. “Row isn’t even sure she wants to stay, and she’s calling to check on kids that aren’t hers because she cares about them. Mya’s a coldhearted bitch.”

I flinch at his words while Elijah smacks him upside the head. “He’s right,” I say through a thick ball of emotion. “About them both.”

“Rowan is not Mya, Seb. Whatever ghosts haunt Rowan do not make her the same as your ex-wife,” Beck says, standing from his chair.

I glance up at him. “But will it matter, for my kids, if she leaves in the end too?”

He drops a heavy hand to my shoulder. “Then you need to decide if she’s worth the fight, Seb. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that relationships always have to go through growing pains before you get to the good stuff, but only you can decide how much you’re willing to bend.”

“Go home, Seb,” Alexei says, pulling his laptop closer to him. “We’ll get everything ready for the meeting with Coleman and email it to you. You go figure out where you and Rowan stand.”

“Maybe I should have gone out and found someone to do my hair and makeup,” Rowan says. She’s shut herself off in the bathroom, but she’s not talking to me.

She’s on a video call with Seren and Stella while she gets ready for tonight’s gala.

If my head hadn’t been so messed up over Mya’s phone call, I would have arranged to have stylists meet us at the hotel.

“No way, you’ve got this.” My little girl’s voice sounds tinny, but I don’t step away. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but my heart keeps my feet planted where they are.

“Seren’s right,” Stella says, and I press my ear to the door. “A sleek ponytail is perfect for that dress. Gah, Seb will swallow his tongue when he sees you.”

“No, he’s?—”

The bathroom door swings open, and there’s no hiding that I had my ear pressed to it.

I offer her an embarrassed shrug. “I heard Seren’s voice.”

Rowan flashes a smile that makes me dizzy. She lifts her phone, and my baby girl’s face comes into view.

“What do you think, Dad?”

“I think I miss you.”

Seren scoffs with an annoyed shake of her head. “No, geez, Dad. What do you think about Row?”

Dragging my gaze away from Rowan’s phone, I grip the wall for support as I take her in. “Jesus, Rowan. You’re—you’re?—”

“Perfect, Dad. She’s perfect.”

Smiling down at my little girl, I nod. “That she is. We’ll call you later, kiddo. Be good for Uncle Alex and Pappy, okay?”

“Always.” She shrugs and disconnects the call.

My gaze does a slow perusal up Rowan’s body. “Peach,” I whisper.

“Yeah?” She bites her lip and then starts wringing her bare wrists. I place my hands in hers to stop the motion.

“You’re stunning. Literally breathtaking.”

Her hair is pulled into a high, sleek ponytail that shows off the long, slender column of her neck.

“Jesus, Peach. I’m not sure I’ll survive the night knowing other men will be looking at you.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m thirty-three years old, Seb. That means I’ve been around long enough to know that no one is looking to sweep me off my feet.”

Her words grate, and I move before she can take another step.

“Then I’m glad I can rectify that.” With one hand behind her knees and the other behind her back, I literally sweep her off her feet and into my arms.

She gasps into my chest. “Sebastian. What the hell are you doing?”

With her in my arms, I stalk over to the desk in the corner and set her down on top of it, then grip her face in both of my palms.

“I’m letting it be known that I have, today and tomorrow, swept you off your goddamn feet.” Then I take her mouth in a punishing kiss. One that bleeds my emotions and fears. A kiss that dominates and submits. A kiss that breathes life into the only partnership that matters—ours.

I lick a line down her neck, and my fingertips glide over the silky fabric of her dress, slowly inching it higher.

“Seb, you…you’re going to wrinkle my dress.”

Stepping back, I pull her to standing, spin her around, and gently lower the zipper, then the dress.

“Where the fuck are your panties?” I whisper against the backs of her legs, smiling when goosebumps appear on her skin. She steps out of the dress, then I very carefully lay it down over the edge of the chair.

“The dress was too thin,” she whispers. Turning her to face me, I raise a brow as I run one finger through her wet heat.

“You’re already so wet for me, Peach.”

“We’re going to be late,” she moans when I circle her clit. I place a palm flat to her belly and push until her hips hit the desk and she sits down again.

With my hands on her upper thighs, I step between her legs, and then kneel. “This won’t take long.”

I sink my teeth into her hip bone, and she lifts her body into my mouth.

“When everyone else is staring at you tonight, I’m going to remember that my teeth marks are on you right here,” I say, tracing the already fading mark. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t come in my pants.”

“Seb,” she whines, and I slide my tongue home. She’s right, we really don’t have much time, so I attack her clit with vigor. Inserting two fingers, I scissor them in time with the flicks from my tongue, and her hands fly to my hair.

She pulls hard against the strands, and I hope every one of the fuckers at this gala knows it’s my face she was grinding on.

“I’m going to, I’m going to…”

“Come, Peach. Give me your sweetness. Only fucking me.”

Her body spasms and lifts from the desk. It’s a sight to see, but it’s the noises that are pulled from her throat that have me memorizing the moment.

She’s never been able to be truly free with me. Her sounds have been muffled so we don’t disturb others, but here, in this hotel room, she finally lets go, and it’s not something I’ll ever be able to forget.

Helping her stand, I lift her dress and hold her hand while she steps back into it.

“We’re staying the absolute minimum amount of time required.”

“What? Why?” she asks, flattening a hand over her stomach. “I thought this was an important event.”

“Oh, it is, and we’ll get what we’re going for. But I’m also not about to waste a second of alone time with you because I can’t wait to hear what sounds you’ll make when I fill you with my cock. I want you screaming for me, sweetheart.”

“Holy crap,” she says, then squeezes her thighs.

“I have a love-hate relationship with this dress, Row.”

“Why?”

“Because I can see every time you clench your legs together, so I’ll know every single time you’re turned on.”

Her eyes widen in shock.

“I can’t wait to fuck you in and out of this dress tonight.” Placing my hands on her shoulders, I spin her toward the door. “But now, it’s time to go.”

Her shaky inhale is like crack for my soul. I can’t wait to get another hit of her.