Message . . . dimly, she realized there was probably more to that message than he’d relayed.
Then he circled his tongue around her clit and the ability to think just sort of faded away. Her knees went weak and he caught her, easing her back onto the bed. He came up over her and kissed her, the taste of her mingling with the taste of him and she moaned. She reached for him, her fingers digging into the heavy ridge of muscle at his back.
Denim rubbed against her thighs and she pulled back from his kiss long enough to ask, “Why are you wearing clothes?”
“Because I try to avoid answering doors naked.” There was a laugh in his voice but it was gone in an instant as she reached between them and tore at the opening of his jeans.
She had his cock in her hand in seconds and when she stroked up, then down, Sebastien muttered her name, voice low and rough. When she repeated the caress, he shoved himself into her palm, reaching between them to cover her hand with his, tightening her grip.
He braced his weight on his free elbow, lifting up to stare at her, the blue-green of his eyes locking with hers.
She passed her thumb over the head of his cock, felt the dampness seeping out.
He stopped with a snarl and nudged her thighs wide. “Now.”
“You’re the one who stopped to get dressed,” she reminded him. She might have said something else, but he was inside her in the next moment and the only noise she was capable of making was a long, wordless keen of hunger.
She moaned as he pulled out and surged back in, each dig of his hips taking him deeper and deeper. Marin couldn’t even tell where he ended and she began, but she knew that he still wasn’t close enough. Clutching him to her, she sank her teeth into his ear and gasped out his name. His cock swelled inside her, big, thicker. It was too much.
Her climax seemed to open up under her, swallowing her whole.
It wracked her entire body, spasms that left her shuddering and twisting against him. When it ended, she was so drained, she couldn’t even move. One hand slid off his back to smack bonelessly against the floor.
Sebastien said something to her, but the words didn’t make much sense. She was already half-asleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Her first thought was that she’d overslept.
Sunlight was coming in through the curtains and she knew that wasn’t right. She was supposed to have been on set when the sun came up, so if the sun was up . . .
She jerked upright and saw Sebastien tucking something into somebody’s hand—money, her mind filed away—while two others bustled around, setting up breakfast. Her belly grumbled, particularly at the smell of bacon.
“Sebastien . . .”
His gaze slanted toward her, a smile crooking up his lips. But he just kept speaking in low tones to the hotel staff. The man in front of him didn’t even look at Marin, just dipped his head and said, “Of course, Mr. Barnes. You needn’t be concerned.”
She had no doubt what they were discussing—Sebastien was asking for discretion. The concierge—she recognized him—was assuring him they’d have it.
There was a fifty-fifty chance. The concierge was a nice guy. She liked him and she could tell he liked his job. It was the others she didn’t know about. But she’d already resigned herself to the fact that news about her and Sebastien was going to come out, probably sooner than later. After yesterday, it wasn’t even a question now. If somebody was going to sell that story to the tabloids, she’d rather it be somebody who needed the money instead of somebody on set looking to be petty. It had happened to her more than once.
The doors soon closed behind the hotel staff and they were left alone.
She held the blanket to her breasts as Sebastien came toward her, wearing only his jeans, the light dusting of hair leading down in a thin ribbon toward the low-slung waistband of said jeans. “What . . .” She cleared her husky throat. “What’s this?”
“Breakfast in bed. Sorry to wake you, but we’ve got to hit the road soon.”
“We . . .” She frowned at him. “Why are we hitting the road?”
“We’ve got a few days off. I thought we’d do something useful with them.” He picked up two plates and came toward her, offering her one, and then putting his down on the table next to the bed.
She studied hers, found it loaded down with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. While he went back to where the breakfast had been so elegantly spread out, she picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on it. Sebastien grabbed two glasses of juice and came back to her. “We’ve got a plane to catch in four hours.”
That had her arching a brow. “Is that right?” She could just bet she knew what he was thinking.
“Yeah.” He put her glass of juice down, but lifted his to his lips and half guzzled it. “I thought we could go to Tennessee, tell your folks.”