Marin made a low, hungry sound in her throat and uncrossed her legs, wiggling in closer. By the time the phone rang a third time, she was hugging him with one knee on either side of his hips and Sebastien was ready to rip the damn phone out of the wall.
He laid his hands on Marin’s thighs, started to slide them up under the hem of that ridiculous temptation of a skirt, but the phone had gone to voice mail and he heard his own voice saying, “It’s me. Go.”
And then . . . Dash. “Hey . . . it’s Dash. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to get a drink or just . . . I dunno. We could take a drive or maybe go for a hike or something, like we used to do. It was good seeing you the other day. Your friends miss you. Gimme a call, man.”
The sound of that voice was a cold splash of reality.
Jerking back, he stared down at Marin.
She was doing the same, her expression going tight as she slowly eased her skirt back down.
Her eyes flicked in the direction of the phone before returning to him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging his hand down his face. Guilt slammed into him and he spun away. Sebastien could be a selfish bastard—the past year proved that—but one thing he’d never been was a poacher. If a woman was involved with somebody, then that woman was off limits and he was about ready to put his hands all over Marin.
In fact, if Dash hadn’t called . . .
“How serious are you?” he demanded, staring at the floor.
“Sebastien—”
“How serious?” He spun back around, raising his voice without intending to.
Marin didn’t flinch, though. She lifted her chin, shoulders going back. “I’ve already discussed this. We had a date. We have another planned. I like him. He’s fun.” Then, eyes narrowing to slits, she added, “He doesn’t turn into a pissed-off grizzly when somebody doesn’t bow down and act the way he wants them to act.”
Sebastien almost snarled, but the bear comment—one of several—hit home and he just clenched his jaw.
“Maybe you should go.”
“I came here to talk to you.” Marin slid off the counter, one hand going to smooth her skirt down, while the other absently went up to smooth her hair.
That was a Hollywood queen for you, he thought. She always knew how to look her best, without even trying. “Yeah, because we’ve done so much talking—you coming into my bedroom while I was taking a shower.”
She went red. “You didn’t close the door, you overgrown moron. I was talking to your mother when I came in and I didn’t realize until . . .”
“Until what?” He came closer and lowered his face until he could breathe her in once more. “Until you saw me there, jacking off while I had the scent of you in my head and the thought of how you might taste burning a hole in me?”
Marin’s eyes went opaque and it took everything he had not to reach for her and finish what they’d started.
“You,” she said, voice shaking, “are a jackass. It was an accident.”
“Yeah? How long did you stand there?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. While she stood there gaping, Sebastien struggled with the hunger inside him and wondered how he’d ever manage to be around her again without it destroying them both. Finally, she sputtered out, “It was hardly more than a few seconds. For goodness sake, Sebastien. You act like we’ve never seen each other naked. It’s not like I don’t know you have a dick.”
Hearing those words on her lips exploded something inside his head and he almost reached for her—again.
But he backed away instead.
“You need to go,” he said carefully. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to put my hands on you again and I won’t stop until you’re under me and moaning my name. By the time I’m done, you won’t even remember anybody else’s.”
Chin lifted mutinously, Marin glared at him. “Nice to know you’re still stuck in that teenage hormone rush, Sebastien. If you ever grow out of it, you’ll make some woman very happy one day.”
He growled and took a step forward.
Marin ignored him as she cut around the island and reached into the purse she’d left there earlier.
“I wanted to bring this out to you—okay, no, I didn’t. JD wanted me to bring it. I told him it was a waste of time and that you’d given up.” She dumped something on the island and it didn’t take more than a second for him to recognize a script.
“Take it back,” he said sourly. “I’m done.”
Marin smiled at him sweetly. “That’s what I told him. You never see anything through when it gets too hard.”
“Marin . . .”
“It’s okay, honey. As you get older—”
He lunged after her and she backed away, eyes widening slightly.
Finally, she was getting it.
He snatched up the script as she turned and walked away. “You forgot something.”
She flipped him off over her shoulder.
“I’d rather fuck you,” he shouted at her back.