Page 18 of First Comes Marriage

Sabrina wiggled happily in his lap. Beneath her, Sebastian’s cock stirred, and a strange new giddiness bubbled up behind Sabrina’s lips.

“Send it to me and I’ll post it,” she said.

“You’re sure she’ll see it?” He handed her his phone to type in her number and send off the image.

“Oh yeah.” She pulled her own phone out, her fingers flying over the screen. “Holly is an Instagram addict. There.” She turned the phone to show him her handiwork. Above a photo of a hunk of clay on a pottery wheel, their selfie was posted with the caption “Second time’s a charm #Reunited.”

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now we wait.”

She slid off his lap and moved back to her own bar stool.Instantly she missed the pressure of his hand on her waist, the impressive bulge in his pants growing larger beneath her.

Heat crawled up her neck as she looked away. “I hate waiting.”

He barked out a laugh that surprised them both, her mouth quirking up into a delighted grin.

“What if we take one more? Just to be sure she’ll see it?” she asked.

Before he could respond, she was back in his lap, her ass pressed against his groin as she leaned back into his chest. He banded his arm around her waist, holding her against him as he thickened beneath her. She wiggled her hips experimentally and his hand tightened on her waist.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

She turned to see him better, her head resting on his shoulder. A deep crevice had formed between his brows, his pupils blown large until they were ringed by the thinnest band of blue.

“I have an idea,” she said.

He raised his phone, camera at the ready, the shutter snapping as she pressed her lips to the place where his pulse thrummed against his throat. He sucked in a sharp breath as her mouth brushed his skin and something deep and hungry thrilled within her.

Sebastian had always been handsome—actually, handsome was too mundane of a word. He was beautiful. Ice blue eyes and sharp cheekbones, all angles and muscle, a predatory grace to his movements despite his grunts and silence. And just then, with her face tucked against his throat and the scent of him surrounding her—something spicy and luxurious, like cardamom and old books—he had never been more beautiful.

“Did you get it?” she asked, her lips still grazing his throat.

“One more. To be sure,” he rumbled.

She smiled and kissed him again, this time closer to his Adam’s apple, tilting her face up towards the sharp line of hisjaw, and listened for the click of the camera. When she pulled away, his eyes were closed, that crevice between his brows even more pronounced. She ran her thumb over it, smoothing out the skin.

He opened his eyes slowly, as though waking from a dream, and studied her for a moment before he cleared his throat, moving her off his lap and quickly sending her the photo. “I think I got it.”

She squirmed in her seat, squeezing her thighs together, and opened the photo. She was wrong. Sebastian wasn’t just beautiful. He was stunning. And they looked good together, him in his suit and her in her silk blouse and pencil skirt. Better than good. They looked like they belonged together.

With a few swipes, the photo was posted, this time with the caption, “Missed you #StartingOver.”

“I really did miss you, ya know,” she said, showing him the post.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you remember that time we were waiting for Longfield Farm to make the produce delivery and we found that old Clue game in the break room?”

Sebastian’s lip twitched. “It was missing all the weapon pieces.”

Sabrina lowered her voice in a poor approximation of his. “It was Colonel Mustard in the billiard’s room with the paperclip!” He laughed and her gaze caught on the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

As his laughter died away, their eyes met. He swallowed, his lips and throat doing all kinds of interesting things. “Yeah, wildflower. I remember.”

Something settled inside her at the sound of the nickname he’d given her so long ago. She’d never thought she’d hear it again, yet here they were…

For a moment, it looked like he had something else to say, but then he took another sip of his drink instead—she’d lostcount of how many they’d had at that point—as her phone buzzed in her hand.

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