A single droplet of red wine clings to the corner of her mouth. My gaze trails lower to the long column of her neck and the swell of her breasts speckled with drops.
I grab a paper towel from the dispenser, dabbing at the wine stains on her dress. My movements are slow, deliberate, as I work my way up her body. Each press of the towel against her skin feels electric, charged with a tension that’s been building for years.
Higher and higher I go until I reach her neckline. A little whimper escapes her, and I peer up at her face. Her teeth are sunk into the plump flesh of her lips, eyes half-lidded.
“Everything okay, princess?”
“I can do it myself.” Snatching the towel from my hand, she steps back. “What are you doing in here anyway?”
“I saw what happened. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She scoffs. “Since when do you care about my well-being?”
Since always. “Look, about what you saw out there with Serena—”
“Save it.” She holds up a hand. “You don’t owe me an explanation. We’re not together, remember?”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. She’s right. I have no claim on her, just like she has no claim on me. But fuck, I don’t care.
I bridge the gap between us, my heart hammering against my ribs. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, those tempting droplets still clinging to her skin. I place a hand on her waist, waiting for her to pull back, to slap me, to tell me to go to hell. But she doesn’t move.
Slowly, I dip my head, my tongue darting out to lick the wine from the swell of her breasts up to her collarbone. She sucks in a sharp breath, her head falling back. I’ll gladly take that invitation, and trail my lips higher, savoring the taste of her skin mixed with the heady flavor of cabernet.
I pull back to look at her—cheeks flushed, eyes hooded with desire. Fuck, she’s beautiful like this. I graze her bottom lip with my thumb, feeling her tremble under my touch.
I war with myself, torn between the desire to kiss her senseless and the knowledge that I shouldn’t. That we shouldn’t. But god, I want to. I want to devour her, to claim her as mine.
If she were a book, I would spend all day reading her.
“Sebastian.” My name is a whisper on her lips.
I tilt her chin up, my lips hovering just above hers. “Yes, princess?”
She doesn’t say a word, staring at me with those wide, innocent eyes. Eyes that have haunted my dreams for years.
The bathroom door swings open, and Serena pops her head in. Lil jumps back like my touch scalded her.
“Bash, I can’t hold them back any longer.” Serena’s eyes flick to Lil. “You need to come out. Now.”
Fuck. I drag a hand over my face, trying to clear the haze of lust clouding my mind. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
Serena’s gaze lingers on Lil a beat longer before she nods and disappears, the door shutting behind her.
Lil wraps her arms around herself, not meeting my eyes. “You should go.”
I should. I know I should. But leaving her like this, all flushed and beautiful and broken, feels wrong. “Lil.”
“Don’t.” Her voice cracks on the word. “Don’t, Sebastian. Please.”
The please undoes me. “This isn’t over, princess.”
“There is no this. You made that clear when you walked away.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did.” Her eyes snap to mine. Cold, anger, desire? I can’t tell. “You left me. Twice, remember? You don’t get to waltz back into my life and pretend like nothing happened.”
I want to argue, to tell her that I never wanted to leave, that walking away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But the words lodge in my throat. She’s right. I did leave. And I’ve been paying for it every day since.