so bad.” She tossed her head back against the wall.
“Yoo-hoo!” A man’s cheery voice rang out from the gallery below. Then silence. Then footsteps. Clack. Clack. Clack. The sound drew louder with every step.
“Shit!” Sebastian stumbled back, nearly crashed to the floor. He clung on to the wall to right his position and then yanked up his pants to his waist. His throbbing erection prevented the zipper from closing. Nervous fingers fumbled to button his shirt.
“Get dressed, baby. Quickly.” Sebastian faced the stairs. “I’ll cover you,” he whispered, shielding her view of the staircase.
The footsteps grew louder, nearer as the intruder ascended the staircase. Frantic, Ashley leaped down from the cabinet, raised her dress over her naked bosoms. Her eyes scoured the floor, hunting for the evidence of their impropriety, her destroyed panties. She remembered seeing them sail over the rail. “Oh, shit.” Smoothing the rumpled dress with her clammy palms, she slid on her sandals. The visitor appeared with not a millisecond left to spare.
A bald head peaked over the staircase’s top riser. Then two bushy brows and a pair of dark, beady eyes. The man’s face came into view. “Well, hello, folks.” The gruff voice greeted them, his tone salty and brows raised. He paused, scanned the room, and then frowned. Glaring eyes rolled up Sebastian’s six-foot-plus frame. His stare idled on Sebastian’s shirt, misaligned buttons and holes fastened together out of sequence.
“Either you dressed blindfolded before you arrived or you just got dressed in a hurry.” The man walked closer to them, placed both hands on his hips.
He glanced at Ashley, pursed his lips. “I suppose these belong to you,” he said, opening his left fist, his hand raised high. Red lacy thongs dangled in the air from disfigured fingers.
Ashley glowered at him, her cheeks warming. She could cram the four-foot dwarf into the trash bin she had seen in the corner.
Sebastian snatched the panties out of the man’s hand. “I’ll take those.” Stuffing them into his back pocket, he placed a protective arm around Ashley’s shoulders.
“This isn’t a whorehouse. I’m sure Miss Kennedy wouldn’t approve of your behavior.”
A hand mounted Ashley’s hip. She struggled to break free of Sebastian’s hold.
He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ve got this, baby,” Sebastian whispered into her ear.
Before she could protest, Sebastian had jacked the man up against the wall. He held the scrawny imp at least a foot off the floor by the jugular. “You don’t want to fuck with me,” Sebastian warned. Fire flashed in Sebastian’s eyes. Ashley moved back. “I don’t appreciate you coming into my place, interrupting my date, and insulting my lady. Get the hell out!” Sebastian released the man. The man crumbled to the floor, nearly passed out.
The man held his throat and gasped hoarsely for air. He scrambled away from Sebastian and to his feet. “I’m sorry. Miss… Miss Kennedy,” he rasped. Sebastian’s larynx-crushing chokehold made speaking difficult for the man. “Miss Kennedy asked me to stop by… make sure you had everything you needed.”
Ashley didn’t imagine that Sebastian could get so mad. One minute he was ready to pound into her until the cabinet broke. The next minute, he was ready to pound the man’s face into dust. She had already been turned on by Sebastian’s ostensible swagger. Coming to her defense had earned him some major points. Tonight proved one thing only. The hunger they shared had to be satisfied.
Chapter Eight
Sebastian’s firm grasp fused Ashley’s hand to the console between them. He regarded her with a sullen expression, his lips tugged into a frown. “I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, stared straight ahead, and waited for the light to turn green. “I wanted this evening to be special. I owe you that at the very least.” A melancholy tune, Sam Smith’s “Safe With Me” piped through the stereo
“Yoo-hoo!” A man’s cheery voice rang out from the gallery below. Then silence. Then footsteps. Clack. Clack. Clack. The sound drew louder with every step.
“Shit!” Sebastian stumbled back, nearly crashed to the floor. He clung on to the wall to right his position and then yanked up his pants to his waist. His throbbing erection prevented the zipper from closing. Nervous fingers fumbled to button his shirt.
“Get dressed, baby. Quickly.” Sebastian faced the stairs. “I’ll cover you,” he whispered, shielding her view of the staircase.
The footsteps grew louder, nearer as the intruder ascended the staircase. Frantic, Ashley leaped down from the cabinet, raised her dress over her naked bosoms. Her eyes scoured the floor, hunting for the evidence of their impropriety, her destroyed panties. She remembered seeing them sail over the rail. “Oh, shit.” Smoothing the rumpled dress with her clammy palms, she slid on her sandals. The visitor appeared with not a millisecond left to spare.
A bald head peaked over the staircase’s top riser. Then two bushy brows and a pair of dark, beady eyes. The man’s face came into view. “Well, hello, folks.” The gruff voice greeted them, his tone salty and brows raised. He paused, scanned the room, and then frowned. Glaring eyes rolled up Sebastian’s six-foot-plus frame. His stare idled on Sebastian’s shirt, misaligned buttons and holes fastened together out of sequence.
“Either you dressed blindfolded before you arrived or you just got dressed in a hurry.” The man walked closer to them, placed both hands on his hips.
He glanced at Ashley, pursed his lips. “I suppose these belong to you,” he said, opening his left fist, his hand raised high. Red lacy thongs dangled in the air from disfigured fingers.
Ashley glowered at him, her cheeks warming. She could cram the four-foot dwarf into the trash bin she had seen in the corner.
Sebastian snatched the panties out of the man’s hand. “I’ll take those.” Stuffing them into his back pocket, he placed a protective arm around Ashley’s shoulders.
“This isn’t a whorehouse. I’m sure Miss Kennedy wouldn’t approve of your behavior.”
A hand mounted Ashley’s hip. She struggled to break free of Sebastian’s hold.
He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ve got this, baby,” Sebastian whispered into her ear.
Before she could protest, Sebastian had jacked the man up against the wall. He held the scrawny imp at least a foot off the floor by the jugular. “You don’t want to fuck with me,” Sebastian warned. Fire flashed in Sebastian’s eyes. Ashley moved back. “I don’t appreciate you coming into my place, interrupting my date, and insulting my lady. Get the hell out!” Sebastian released the man. The man crumbled to the floor, nearly passed out.
The man held his throat and gasped hoarsely for air. He scrambled away from Sebastian and to his feet. “I’m sorry. Miss… Miss Kennedy,” he rasped. Sebastian’s larynx-crushing chokehold made speaking difficult for the man. “Miss Kennedy asked me to stop by… make sure you had everything you needed.”
Ashley didn’t imagine that Sebastian could get so mad. One minute he was ready to pound into her until the cabinet broke. The next minute, he was ready to pound the man’s face into dust. She had already been turned on by Sebastian’s ostensible swagger. Coming to her defense had earned him some major points. Tonight proved one thing only. The hunger they shared had to be satisfied.
Chapter Eight
Sebastian’s firm grasp fused Ashley’s hand to the console between them. He regarded her with a sullen expression, his lips tugged into a frown. “I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, stared straight ahead, and waited for the light to turn green. “I wanted this evening to be special. I owe you that at the very least.” A melancholy tune, Sam Smith’s “Safe With Me” piped through the stereo
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