I reach up to pull his face back to mine, but he’s already on the move, leaving a wet, ticklish trail across my nipples and down the center of my body with his tongue and his scratchy beard, all the way down until my thighs are resting on his shoulders and his hot breath is skating over me. Torturing me.
I lift my pelvis until I feel his mouth against me. He’s smiling, I can tell. I don’t care if he knows how much I want this. I am needy right now.
And with the first swipe of his tongue, I know that this isn’t going to take long at all.
The doorbell rings.
Sebastian pulls away.
“Ignore it,” I growl, reaching to pull his face back down.
He complies, his hands squeezing my thighs tight. I weave my fingers around the back of his head, relaxing as he keeps going.
Until my phone begins to ring. It’s Fez’s ringtone. He’s outside, with the truck.
I forgot about the truck.
“Dammit,” I curse. “Stop. This isn’t going to happen now.” Fez is doing me a huge favor, but he’s not the most patient guy out there. He’ll leave.
Sebastian lays a few kisses on the insides of my thighs and then climbs off the bed, tucking that impressive dick that I pulled out back into his pants. “I’ll be down . . . in a minute.” He leaves me to get dressed and ducks into the bathroom. To pee, to wash me off his face, to jerk off. Probably all three.
And I want to be in there to help him.
Throwing my clothes on, I storm down the stairs and throw open the door, chanting to myself, “Fez is helping me, Fez is helping me, Fez is . . .” so I don’t bite his head off the second I see him like the frustrated bitch I now am.
“Yo! I’m turning gray out here!” Fez exclaims.
“Sorry. Got caught up with something,” I mumble.
“We’re ready. Called up my homies, figured you could use the halp.” True to his word, the cube van is parked outside and open. Joker and Weazy are tossing the trash bags already on the curb in.
“Seriously?” Suddenly, I can deal with Fez’s weird obsession with slang. Three extra sets of hands and this place may be all cleaned up by tonight. “This is huge. I don’t know what to say.” I back up and let all three of them in.
“That face, though.” Fez cringes at me and the black mascara that I’m sure is streaking across my cheeks. “Channeling your inner Cruella de Vil?”
“Shut up.” He deserved it for that one.
Weazy and Joker step into the kitchen and let out a low whistle.
“It’s better than it was,” I say, reaching for another full trash bag to pass to them.
“Then it must have been a fucking wreck because damn . . . half the places in Mission look better than this,” Joker says, scratching his shaved head.
“Well, then I guess I’m lucky to have you three to help me, right?” I toss the broom to Fez. “Here. You’re good with one of these, right?” I give him a wink to soften the blow, as the guys start throwing jeers at him.
Sebastian’s heavy footfalls down the stairs quiet them.
“Oh, I see how it is. ‘Got caught up’?” Fez stares at me.
I just shrug. I don’t need to answer to any of these guys. “Hey, guys, this is Sebastian. Sebastian, these are the guys. You already know Fez.”
“The bro with the sick work, yeah.” Fez reaches out with a fist and, to my surprise, Sebastian responds with one of his own. If Fez knew that the “bro with the sick work” was really an ex–Navy SEAL and bodyguard, he’d have a full-on man crush in under ten minutes. And then trail Sebastian around, driving him nuts.
“Dude, I thought she wasn’t into dick?” I hear Weazy whisper to Joker from behind me.
“Seriously? She’s just not into yours.”
I shake my head at Sebastian, but he’s smirking. Speaking of dick . . . I drop my gaze.
Yeah, I know what he was doing in the bathroom.
“What time is dinner?” Sebastian asks from the edge of my bed at Dakota’s, kicking off his shoes.
“Dakota should be home in an hour.” I dry my hands at the bathroom sink and peer over to get a good look at him. He looks like hell. “You need to sleep.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll be fine.”
“Seriously, you were up all night, weren’t you? You can lie down for an hour.” I will, too, gladly. Beside him . . .