Page 84 of After Midnight

“Honey, I don’t think you’d survive skateboarding all day. You barely survived one night ride.”

That small smile he’s wearing is starting to grow. “But you would let me move in with you?”

Typically, a question like that—even if asked as a joke—would completely terrify me; I’d probably leave a man at the bar or the restaurant table if he said something like that. But with Seb, the only thing that scares me is how wonderful that sounds, how amazing it would feel to wake up next to him every day and not have to wonder when he would have time to get on a plane and come see me.

I scoot closer to him on the piano bench, leaning forward until our foreheads are touching. Then I whisper, “You want your own key?”

Seb pulls away from me, just a bit. His eyes search mine in the warm light cast by the lamp. Then he smiles at me—for real, dimples and everything—before reaching around the back of my head with one hand and pressing his lips to mine.

chapter 38

Sebastian

REMI JUST OFFERED ME A key to her place. And even though she was smiling, it didn’t sound like a joke. It sounded like she was serious, like I’m someone she wants to keep in her life. And now, kissing her, those words play on repeat in my head, making every movement of my lips against hers that much more meaningful.

Because this is starting to feel more like something that’s real and less like a mirage that could vanish at any moment.

Remi tastes like sparkling water with a hint of lemon underneath. Her long dark hair is tangled from the day, and I can still smell the heat of the sun on her skin from the charity event. We could both use a good shower.

But maybe we should get dirty together first.

Breaking our kiss, I push up from the piano bench, then guide Remi up after me. She’s already breathing heavier, her chest rising and falling under the black T-shirt she’s wearing.

When I reach for the hem of her tee, she immediately lifts her arms, allowing me to slide the fabric off over her head. Beneath the shirt, she’s wearing a black bra, and she catches her breath as I reach around her to free the clasp. It comes loose under my fingers, and Remi drops the bra to the floor. The bars through her nipples catch the warm light, and I immediately cup her breasts in my palms, squeezing them softly, then pinching her pierced nipples, making her moan.

I love that sound, love knowing I can pleasure her.

She’s reaching for my T-shirt now—I changed into a clean one after the show—and I have to hunch over to let her pull it off over my head. After the fabric hits the floor, Remi runs her fingers across my ribs, makes goose bumps pebble across my skin.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” she whispers.

And her words immediately have my cock leaping to attention.

I’m a fucking simp for her. I could probably get off on her praise alone.

But not before I taste her sweet cunt on my tongue.

My hands find her hips, and my fingers unclasp the button on her jean shorts. I unzip them slowly, taking my time, kissing along her throat as I guide the zipper down. She lets out a soft whine, like anticipation and frustration mixed into one sound. Running out of patience with me, she grabs her shorts—and her underwear—and shoves them down, then kicks them away.

I pull away from her, taking in her beautiful body, then arch an eyebrow as I meet her fiery blue gaze. “Impatient, are we?”

“Yes,” she growls. Then her hands are on the waistband of my jeans, and she has them off and me naked in record time.

Remi is a beast when she wants something. It’s a fucking turn-on.

And I still can’t believe I’m the one who gets to be with her like this.

I take her around the waist and guide her back into the armchair, and she settles into it with a surprised breath. The lamp glows over her, accentuating her nipple piercings and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as I sink to the floor in front of her. Gently, I cup her behind the knees and spread her legs, draping them over the arms of the armchair.

I’m on my knees before her, right where I belong.

Her pussy opens up, her bare lips already slick with moisture. I draw one finger down her slit, then dip it into her cunt, making her gasp.

“So wet,” I whisper.

She bites her bottom lip, and I hold her gaze as I slide one finger deep inside her, curling it, warming her up slow. I like her in this position: legs spread, pussy open, black hair hanging in tangled sheets around her cheeks. It makes me want to pump my cock into her and pour everything I have inside her sweet heat.

But first, I’m going to make her cum, make her toes curl and her breath catch. I’m going to worship her the way she deserves.