But I knew in my gut Sebastian Stone was anything but simple.
I kind of wanted to panic when he finally turned around and headed back into town. At a stoplight, he turned his face toward me, his nose a fraction from mine, his hand back on my thigh. “Where do you live?”
I gave him a quick rundown on how to get there, back near the bar but a few streets in. I hugged him even tighter as he took the few turns that brought us into my neighborhood, knowing this magical night was coming to an end.
He pulled to a stop in front of the blue two-story historic, white shutters around the windows, the sight of the cute little porch swing hanging from the wooden beams enough to swell my heart in a rush of wistfulness.
“This is you?” he asked as he kicked the stand and cut the engine, and an expectant silence filled the air.
“This is me.”
He helped me off then climbed from the bike. His adept fingers worked to remove the helmet and he hooked it on the handlebars.
“There,” he said softly, eyes intense as he brushed back some of the hair that could only be a disaster. He let his fingertips trail down my neck. A tremor spread beneath my skin. “Thought I’d take the scenic route to your house. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I didn’t mind,” I whispered, hating how much I wanted him to stay when I knew he needed to go.
A few stars clung to the sky as a dim hue of light tugged at the brink of the horizon, a vague threat of the approaching day. The high-pitched drone of bugs hummed from the trees, and the air held still, bottled up, waiting to be breathed across morning’s awakening.
Baz and I seemed lost in it. Hovering at the edge.
Releasing me, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, the way he always seemed to do when he didn’t know what to do with himself, rocked back on his heels, and squinted at the emerging silhouette of my house.
“You own this place?”
I began to walk toward it, somehow knowing he would follow.
“Yeah.” Inhaling deeply, I looked up at my house that wasn’t exactly small or modest. “My grandmother left it to me when she passed. This house was always my favorite place in the world.” Side by side, we climbed the three steps onto the porch, and I turned to look at him when we stopped in front of the white door. “Every chance I got, this was where I came. It was always my sanctuary, mostly because I wanted to be around my grandma.” I gave a tiny, insecure shrug, revealing the most about myself that I ever had. “Now it’s my home.”
Baz peered into one of the long, horizontal windows that flanked both sides of the door. There were no lights on inside, so it appeared blackened. Blank. Yet he stared at it as if he could see everything inside. “It’s perfect for you.”
I gave him a soft smile. “I think it is, too.”
I hesitated, stuck in the force of his presence that seemed to devour all my sensibilities. “I should go in,” I finally said.
He looked to his feet, before he leveled me with all his potency. He gave me a tight nod. “It’s late.”
I dug in my bag for my keys and slipped the front-door key into the lock, turned the knob, and cracked open the door.
“Goodnight, Baz.” I turned away and went to cross the threshold.
I felt him move before I felt the blazing heat of his hand on my neck, beneath my hair, his thumb at my jaw to force me to look back at him.
Indecision swam through his eyes, voice rough. “You’re beautiful, Shea. Need you to know that.”
Slowly, I shifted, turning to face him, his right hand gliding around to the side of my neck in the same second his left came up to the other side. Holding me. Thumbs ran along the contour of my jaw, strong fingers at my nape tipping back my head.
I felt like I would drown under the intensity of him—my body coming alive—a rapid-fire of sensation licking through my body with the simple touch.
I stopped breathing when he slowly leaned in. His mouth brushed over mine in a feather-light caress.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Testing.