Drowning to Breathe (28 page)

Sebastian sat on the floor with his back propped against the couch, facing away, shoulders bare, guitar cradled in his lap.

Words floated up. The soft pluck of the strings and a mellow melody stretched out to touch my soul.

Slowly I edged down the winding staircase, one hand on the smooth rail as I clutched the sheet to my chest with the other.

The muscles in his back tensed and bowed when he felt my approach, but there was no hitch in his song. Just the sweet, sweet sound urging me toward him.

Barefoot, I stepped onto the cool marble at the landing, and shuffled deeper into the living space. Inch by inch. I rounded the side of the couch and came to a stop three feet in front of him.

Eyes slowly lifted to mine, this stunning man capturing me in the heavy weight of his stare.

Lights flashed and glowed from the windows overlooking the city. Colors flickered across his face, those bold, beautiful lines striking in the night.

And it was like instinct—like magic—when Sebastian halted the song he was composing, just long enough to lift the guitar from his lap and welcome me onto it.

He’d pulled on a pair of old jeans that had been worn soft, and he parted his legs just enough to make me room. I settled on the floor between his legs with my back to his bare chest, the cool, thin sheet against his warm skin sending goosebumps across my flesh.

He exhaled a harsh breath at the contact, his heartbeat a deep, steady thrum. He situated the guitar on my lap and wrapped me in his hold.

The intricate color engraved over his arms seemed to whirl across his skin. Muscle flexed beneath as if it ached to tell its story.

Or maybe it ached to write a new one.

His breath tickled along my neck, blowing strands of my hair around us as he leaned over my shoulder. His hands caressed the back of mine as he carefully set them on the guitar.

My fingertips pressed the strings down onto the fret as Sebastian lightly covered them with his own. A gentle guidance. A quiet encouragement.

Our spirits one.

As if he understood my own ache. As if he were the only person with the capacity to feel the hole left when I’d given up my dreams because I was never willing to pay the price.

Not when the price was my daughter.

But that didn’t mean the need to create, to compose, and to play didn’t burn from within.

And I knew. And I knew. And I knew.

Sebastian Stone had been created for me.

A thrill rushed through my nerves, because I hadn’t made music in so very long.

Together we strummed.

Sebastian’s voice rasped at the shell of my ear, the lyrics broken and unpolished as he whispered the beginnings of a soul-baring song.

You.

Came like a storm.

In the distance.

Coming closer.

I felt comfort and surety in the choice we’d made.

The jump we’d taken.

And together, we fell. Fell into the song, our fingers finding our own perfect rhythm on the strings. Fell into the words, our spirits and tongues coming together to tell our story.

Fell further into beauty.

Fell into a sea of stars that blinded my eyes. Where we floated in a high place that belonged only to us. A place that didn’t belong to this world.

In a place where Sebastian and Shea Stone would never end.

ANXIOUSLY, I POUNDED ON
the hotel door. I paced two steps one direction and then two steps in the opposite, before I rapped my knuckles on the wood again.

“All right…all right…cool your fucking jets, man, I’m coming,” echoed from the other side.

Metal scraped before the door opened enough for my baby brother’s face to come into view, brown hair a mess, baggy boxers sagging on his narrow hips the only thing covering up his tall, lanky body. “Where’s the damned fire?”

Upstairs, still asleep in my suite.

I shouldered into his room. “What, I can’t just stop by my baby brother’s room to say hi?”

“At seven thirty in the morning? Uh…no.” Slanting a hand through his bedhead, he narrowed suspicious eyes on me. “What’s up?”

“Who said anything was up?”

He barked out a knowing laugh. “I don’t know…you come in here at the ass-crack of dawn, day after your birthday, mind you, cheesy-ass grin on your face and a bounce to your step. Looks like something’s up to me.”

He was right. Couldn’t wipe the fucking grin from my face even if I wanted to.

Which I didn’t.

Never felt so good in all my life.

“Yeah…you’re right. Something’s up, and I wanted you to be the first to know.”

Ten minutes later, I was letting Austin’s door slam shut behind me, and hauling ass back to our suite.

With all of me, I needed to get back to my girl.

Sliding the keycard through the slot, I unlatched the door and slipped inside. A stilled quiet echoed back as the sun climbed past the horizon. Rays of morning slanted across the city. Right now, it was probably the most mellow it could possibly be.

Crazy, considering I was the most wound up I’d ever been. Last night I couldn’t catch even a wink, hadn’t even skated in the direction of sleep as I let everything that’d transpired over the night catch up to me.

Fuck, was I floating on air. Riding on the commitment and music we’d made, something so fucking brilliant and intense and real that I’d felt it sinking in, becoming one with my bones. Same way as I felt that girl sinking deeper into my spirit last night, holding me hostage with her voice and freeing me with her words.

Sure. People were going to say we were rushing things. Say both of us were nothing but irresponsible fools diving heart first into this unending ecstasy that could only shift. Trouble just waiting to swallow us whole.

I didn’t give two fucks about that.

Wasn’t like I’d ever been known to play by the rules, anyway.

And when it came to Shea, I was ready to break them all. Bust up all the presuppositions and projections, those stating we were setting ourselves up to fail before we ever got the chance to fly.

She was the answer for my soul.

I headed straight for the stairs, footsteps light, not wanting to wake her. Unlike me, Shea’d been snuggled in my arms, long lost to sleep when I’d finally untangled myself when I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling I needed to talk to my brother.

At the top of the stairs, I paused when I looked at the bed on which we’d done all that consummating.

Empty.

Blankets shoved to the floor.

Water ran from a faucet in the bathroom, and my heart skipped an anxious beat.

Shea.

In four steps, I cleared the bedroom floor and nudged open the bathroom door.

My chest tightened, need and love and devotion washing me through.

She stood in front of the dressing table mirror with her back to me.

One glimpse and every inch of me grew hard.

My wife.

Still couldn’t believe it.

That same silky white sheet was tucked under her arms. It dipped down low enough on her back to reveal that delectable expanse of creamy skin, draping the rest of the way down to pool like liquid ivory on the floor. Waves of blonde spilled and spilled, those locks falling free over her delicate bare shoulders and framing her face, just begging for my hands to get wrapped up in it.

Fucking gorgeous.

Shake the earth kind of gorgeous.

Outshine the stars kind of gorgeous.

Yeah, that kind of gorgeous.

And. She. Was. Mine.

Caramel eyes flew up to meet my gaze when she caught my reflection in the mirror. Slowly I advanced. Her storm gathered strength. All that dark and light and life crashed over me. Like this girl was surrounded by electricity, a current sparking in the air.

Second I’d seen her, there was no doubt in my mind she held the power to turn my world upside down.

Should have known better.

She’d shattered it.

Redefined who I was and who I wanted to be.

Stripped me of all control and left me bare.

Found a way to seep through those cracks inside my scarred heart and somehow made it whole.

“There you are.” Her voice was rough with sated satisfaction, still groggy from sleep.

My footsteps echoed across the floor as I edged up behind her. My hands went to her flat belly then roamed over the soft curve of her hips, traipsing right back again, the silky fabric the only barrier as I tugged all her soft against my hard.

“Did you miss me?” I mumbled at her ear.

Tongue darting out to wet that lush bottom lip, she released a tiny moan into the thick tension holding us captive in this room, that invisible tether that tied us together once again drawing taut.

“Always. I woke up to an empty bed and thought maybe you’d gotten cold feet.”

One side of her mouth curled with the tease, and a low chuckle rolled from me as I nuzzled along the slope of her neck.

Running my nose from her ear to the cap of her shoulder, I whispered my truth. “Never.”

Longing searched for a way out, intense and visceral. Something instinctual. A harsh breath pushed from my lungs, and I took a step back and toed off my shoes. Intent becoming clear.

Shea’s stare was just as heavy as mine as we watched each other through the mirror, like she fed from my every move, little earthquakes vibrating through her as that energy collected like a palpable mass.

Suffocating.

Reaching up to my collar, I dragged my tee over my head and tossed it to the floor, took another step back as I ticked through the buttons of my jeans. Shea’s attention tracked the movement. My pulse volatile and wild.

I shrugged off my jeans and my underwear. Baring myself. My cock, eager as ever, sprang free of its confines, at the ready and beggin’ for more, more, more.

Wasn’t ever gonna get enough.

Desire swirled through her eyes as they traced across my skin like she would give anything to consume me. To sink inside and disappear.

But I didn’t think she had the first clue the way she possessed
me
.

That she was already there.

“Turn around,” I ordered, words scraping like a lash from my throat.

So slowly she spun to face me, anticipation thick, and I knew she was waiting for me to strike. To take and take and take.

But, no. Instead, I climbed down onto both knees and knelt at her feet.

Figured one just wouldn’t do.

Not for Shea.

Not for my wife.

I was going to give it all.

A halo of light shone around her, hair lit up like white fire, my girl wrapped loosely in that silky sheet.

Lust cut a path through my veins and knotted in my stomach.

Shea stared down at me like the temptress she was.

An angel.

A goddess.

Slipping my hands beneath the sheet, I ran them up the outside of her legs, chasing the tremors that rolled beneath the surface of her skin. Palpable and alive. Slipping from her and sinking into me.

I sucked in a breath and cupped her ass, pulling her forward in the same second I pressed my nose to her silk-covered sex.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled, relished in her heat and desire while my girl gasped, that sweet, seductive sound spurring me on.

Meeting her eyes, I slowly parted the sheet and revealed smooth, honeyed skin. I gave it a firm tug and pulled it free. Fabric floated to the floor.

And there she stood with me kneeling at her feet, my hands on the outside of her thighs.

A vision.

Dark.

Light.

Heavy.

Soft.

Fucking perfect.

My wife.

“So fucking beautiful, Shea. Every inch of you. Got the best everything. Now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life cherishing it. Adoring it. Adoring you.”

Protecting you and loving you and giving it all.

Would lie, steal, and defeat.

Kill.

Die.

Anything it took, just as long as this girl lived the life she deserved.

Wrapping my hands farther around to the backs of her thighs, I spread her, just enough to gain room to press my tongue to her clit.

Fuck. Would never grow tired of the way she tasted.