“It is,” she said loftily. “I’m going to ask you to show me your moves at some point.”
“All my moves don’t involve wheels,” he said, and gave a wiggle of his brows. At her snort, he turned thoughtful. “Diane saw my drawings, though. She thinks I should sketch the girls on the team for their trading cards.”
She gave his hand a happy squeeze. “That’d be awesome! Are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled her closer to him protectively as they got to a congested part of the street. “The thought of opening up my art for other people to see . . . it feels very personal. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “It was hard enough showing you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because I don’t know what I would have done if you’d laughed.” His eyes were so somber. “Your opinion is important to me.”
Her throat felt tight with emotion, and she gave his hand another squeeze. “Maybe start smaller then? One stranger instead of hundreds?”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Good idea.”
“I have lots of them tonight.” Oh, her head was just full of all kinds of ideas. Dirty, filthy ideas. “Do you have condoms at home?”
He immediately steered her the opposite way down the street.
“Where are we going?”
“Pharmacy. For condoms.”
She laughed.
A half hour later, they were home. The moment they walked in the door, Sebastian tugged her bag off her shoulder and began to kiss her. His mouth moved over hers, tongue slicking against her own. And it was . . . just nice.
There weren’t the fireworks from earlier. It puzzled her, and she let the kiss continue for a few moments before breaking off and giving his chest a little pat. “I should probably shower. I’m all sweaty and gross.”
He began to kiss her neck, pressing his mouth against her skin. “I don’t care if you’re sweaty. I like you just the way you are.”
“Yes, but I want a shower,” she insisted, tugging out of his arms. “Please?”
Sebastian studied her for a moment, then kissed the tip of her nose. “You bet. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”
She smiled at him and gave him a quick, chaste peck on the mouth before heading up to the master bedroom’s bathroom. It was far more lavish than the one she’d claimed for her soap making, and Sebastian didn’t mind that she hogged his bathroom. She managed to hold it together until she started the water.
Then, she sat on the edge of the tub and rubbed her forehead, thinking.
Fuck, what was wrong with her? She’d been so easy with him earlier. So passionate. It was the mental breakthrough she’d needed. Surely she wasn’t a one-trick pony? Now that she’d had her orgasm—and what an intense, great orgasm it was—she wasn’t done, was she?
She had more in her than that, didn’t she?
It troubled her even as she showered using her favorite soaps. Her current favorite was lavender, the scent calming and fresh. She knew that the house and everything in it sometimes reeked of flowers and Sebastian never uttered a word of complaint. The man was a billionaire. He could have bought her someplace else to work if it bugged him. He could have insisted she shut down her soap business. Paid her to stop stinking up his town house. Instead, he let her be her. Let her run the show.
If she was still capable of love, Sebastian would be the man she could love.
But now? After she froze up at the door? She wasn’t so certain if she was cured or not. She stepped out of the shower and toweled off, then impulsively flicked the lights off.
A wave of sheer terror shot through her. The breath escaped her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She was being smothered, back in the Dumpster again. Forgotten. Discarded like trash.
With a small cry, she fumbled against the wall, looking for the light switch. A moment later, bright light flooded the bathroom again and she heaved a sigh of relief and frustration.