Page 104 of Last Man Standing

“Until you decide you’re done.” He slides his hand away from my neck and down to my belly. “You could be out here until way after bedtime if you want. Could come back tomorrow and the next day. Whatever you want, Princess. He’s yours for as long as you’re here on this land.”

“But…” I swallow the lump of emotion filling my throat. “Why?”

“Because I wanna give you a reason to be happy.”

Stunned, I glance back up at him again.

“I know you hate being here,” he murmurs. “Fuck, Princess. I know you loathe this place. But it’s my home. It’s my entire world, and I just…” He shrugs. For the first time, maybe ever, he breaks eye contact and seems almost…. Shy. “I want there to at least be one thing, one tiny reason, that you could want to stay.” Slowly, he brings his eyes back to mine, and like he’s conjured it out of nowhere, he draws my focus down to a small cardboard box with a plastic window in the side and a bright pink cupcake on the inside. “Happy birthday, Scarlett.” He places the box in my hand, then he drapes his coat over Jasper’s stall wall and searches the pockets for a moment until he comes back with a single pink and white candle and a lighter. “I want it on record that I sent men into town today purely to buy a pink candle.” He carefully peels the box open until all four walls lay flat against my palm, then he sticks the candle into the top and peeks up at me from beneath long lashes. “I spent half the morning searching the kitchen. Searching the chow hall. I asked my mom. Asked the cooks. I even asked the nurses in the medical wing. Turns out, no one cares enough to stock pink candles.” Chuckling, he flicks the lighter to life and brings the orange flame across to the wick. “I would have gone to town myself, but I was busy learning how to bake a fuckin’ cupcake.”

Emotion backs up in my throat and pushes fresh tears into my eyes. “You baked this? For me?”

“First time in my entire life. Burned the first batch. Ran out of sugar for the second batch.” He lights the candle and flashes a boyish grin. “Third time worked out just fine. And Koda enjoyed the shit out of baking with me all morning.” Depositing the lighter into his pocket, he sets his palm beneath my hand and lifts both to bring the cake closer. “Do you need me to sing for you, Princess? Cause I will. I’ll do it. But once you realize I don’t sound that great, you might think I’m punishing you when I’m not.”

“You baked me a cake?” I swipe the irritating moisture from my cheeks. “How did you know it was my birthday?”

“I’m not just here to look good, ya know?” He tips his chin forward. “Now make a wish and blow. If you’re not careful, Jasper will poke his head over the gate and steal the whole thing before you get a taste.”

I peek back to the stall, only to come almost nose to nose with the beast and choke out a tear-filled laugh. “Oh my gosh! He’s so quiet. I didn’t even realize he’d come closer.”

“He’s an asshole.” Sebastion presses his palm to Jasper’s nose and pushes him back. “Hurry, or he’ll make you regret it.”

I snap my eyes shut and search for a wish. I rack my brain and try with everything I am to come up with something to hope for. To ask for.

Sadly, all I end up with is ‘I wish the world didn’t hurt so much.’ Which is actually pretty friggin’ pathetic, even for me. Still, I hold on to my wish and draw a deep breath, then I open my eyes and blow the candle out with a long exhale.

“Mmm. Good work.” Sebastion pinches my chin between his thumb and finger, tipping my head back and drawing me to the tips of my toes. Then he folds over our joined hands and slides his tongue across my lips. “I’m sorry I was raised with mercenaries and homicidal tendencies.” He slips his tongue into my mouth and makes good on my wish, if only for a moment. If only for as long as it’s just us, Jasper, and a bright pink cupcake. “I’m sorry I don’t know how to speak without insensitive bullshit being my go-to.”

Now I feel bad. “Sebastion, it’s⁠—”

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to be anyone except this version of who I am. I’m rough and mean and I lack basically every socially acceptable filter I would’ve learned if I’d gone to a regular school with regular people.” He draws my tongue between his lips and nibbles. Tasting. Savoring. “I’m sorry I’m not everything the twelve-year-old version of you daydreamed and wrote in your diaries about.”

“Sebastion—”

He shakes his head and swallows my words. My heart. My soul, too.

“If you can look past all the bullshit, ignore all the rough edges, not want to run away all the fuckin’ time, and maybe smile when you think my name, then I promise to work on becoming the kind of guy you’d wanna tell your brother about.”

Oh God. Damn him for making my tears fall.

“I’ll protect you.” He crowds me against the stable gate and draws his thigh up between my legs. “I’ll protect you with my life. With a thousand lives and every explosive I can get my hands on. I’ll make you come at least once every single day.”

I choke out a pathetic, tummy-tingling giggle.

“My mission has changed,” he rumbles. “And that’s okay. Eventually, we all knew that would happen. My mission now revolves around you, Scarlett. My high-maintenance princess who isn’t actually high-maintenance at all.”

“I—”

“I call you princess to your face, because it pisses you off. But I call you Adelita when I speak to literally everyone else, because that’s how I see you.”

“A-Adelita?”

“So fucking strong,” he groans. “So brave and formidable. You don’t need to fight your own wars anymore, Scarlett, cause I’m right here, and I’m gonna stand in front of you till I can’t anymore. But you’re so fuckin’ strong, you could fight. And you’d win.” He glances down at the cupcake between us, drags the tip of his finger through bright pink icing, then he taps my bottom lip and grins as I open up. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He trades his finger with his lips, so we both get to taste the sweet flavor on my tongue. “You’re so perfect. You don’t see it because you’re always so hard on yourself. But I see it.”

Warmth fills my cheeks, partially because of his hard cock resting against my belly, but mostly because his words embarrass me. He flatters me. “You can stop talking now. I’m not mad at you anymore.”

“Never gonna stop telling you how obsessed I am with you.” He takes my cupcake in one hand and lifts me with the other. So strong. So capable. He pins me to the heavy wooden gate and brings the cupcake to my lips. “Lick it.”

Goddddddd. Blood thrums intoxicatingly through my veins, pulsing in my jeans until I’m not sure I know how to breathe anymore.