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Sebastian
I don’t know how I made it through that dinner without touching Matilda. She was sitting so close to me and looked so fucking beautiful in that navy blue shift dress she was wearing.
She wore her hair down again. This time it was straightened and the light coating of pale lipstick she put on after we’d finished dessert was a beacon that was luring me to her perfect mouth.
Jesus, I wanted to kiss her when she leaned over and whispered that the chocolate cake was the best thing she’d ever tasted.
I wanted to taste her. Her lips, her skin, her pussy, all of her.
I try to shake off the thought as I sit in our living room now.
We’d shared a taxi with Maya and Julian, which meant I was stuck in the front seat while the three of them piled into the back.
They dropped us at our apartment first with a round of hugs and a promise to meet for dinner again in a couple of weeks to go over wedding plans.
I don’t know the first thing about planning a celebration of that magnitude, but I’ll do it. I’ll sit through any discussion about flowers, caterers and photographers if I can do it with Matilda.
“When did Julian ask you to be his best man?” Matilda’s voice comes at me from behind.
I sat down on the sofa as soon as we got home. She took off toward her bedroom muttering something about needing to get out of her dress.
The offer to unzip the back of her dress danced on my lips, but I held back because I know I’d want to touch more of her skin and I can’t read if she’s feeling the same pull to me as I am to her.
“Right before we got to the restaurant.” I glance back to see her approaching.
She’s changed into cut-off denim shorts and a pink T-shirt. Her toned legs are on display, her nipples have furled into tight points beneath the fabric of the shirt.
“I was surprised that Maya asked me tonight.” She sits in the oversized armchair that faces the sofa. “I thought it would be just another birthday dinner, but it turned into a really special night.”
I run my palms over my thighs trying to curb my arousal. “I had a great time.”
“Me too,” she says softly. “Julian and Maya are so in love, aren’t they? You can feel it when you’re near them. At least I can.”
I don’t know what love feels like.
“Have you ever been in love?” I ask before I realize that I don’t want to know the answer. I don’t want to hear about her feeling anything substantial for another man even though I don’t know what the fuck it is that I’m feeling for her.
It feels like lust, a pure carnal need to fuck her.
I close my eyes against the swell of my cock in my jeans.
“Once,” she whispers. “It was forever ago.”
I glance over at her. She’s shifted slightly in her seat, so her legs are now crossed at the knee.
“How long is forever ago?” I lean forward, resting my forearms on my thighs.
“High school.” She laughs. “Is it love if you’re not even eighteen-years-old?”
I watch her face as I answer. “I think it’s love if your heart says it is.”
“Mine did.” She bows her head. “I thought he would be my forever, but it didn’t work out.”
I’ve never felt that with a woman.
“I saw him when I was in San Francisco.” She glances over at me. “He dropped by my sister’s house when we were having birthday cake.”
“You invited him?”
My question surprises her. I see it in the slight perk of her brows. “Frannie’s husband, Grant, did. They’re friends.”
“What’s his name?” My throat tightens. None of this is my fucking business, but I can’t help myself. I crave the knowledge of who this guy is.
She glances at the window and the lights of the city beyond. “Boyd.”
Boyd. I hate the name now.
“What was it like seeing Boyd?” His name snaps off my tongue.
“Strange.” She frowns. “I hadn’t seen him since Frannie’s wedding.”
Good. I remember Julian telling me that Frannie has been married for years.
“We talked briefly at the birthday party.” She looks down at her fingernails. “It was mostly about his job, my job, the weather here versus there. It was just a lot of random shit.”
I laugh. “Sounds exciting.”
Her lips curl into a smile. “It was boring and it made me wonder what I saw in him all those years ago. There wasn’t a spark there anymore.”
I feel my body relax. “So Boyd is a bore?”
She catches the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth. “A big bore. He’s not my type at all anymore.”
I ask because it’s right there, dangling like a hook in front of me. “What’s your type, Matilda?”
She starts to blush, her hand jumping to her chest. “What’s your type?” she counters just as her phone starts ringing next to her.
I toss my head back into the sofa and close my eyes.
Fuck. Just fuck.
“It’s Frannie,” she says softly. “She wants to video chat. I’ll take it in my room.”
I don’t respond because I was about to tell her that she’s my type and then her damn phone rang. Matilda Baker is exactly the type of woman I want in my bed.
She’s the only woman I want in my bed.
