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I nod, though her words do little to ease my discomfort. Perhaps some time alone is what I need after all.

“I think I’ll go upstairs,” I say quietly.

She squeezes my arm. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s fine. I need to go to the toilet. I’ll be down right after.” I attempt my best happy face ever to reassure her. “Stay and have fun.”

“Okay… but if something is wrong, come and find us?”

“Yes.”

I slip past the party crowd, climbing the stairs as fast as my heels allow, and stumble into my room, collapsing back against the door and burying my face in my hands.

What am I doing? This party, this ridiculous costume… I want to talk to Sebastian. If he even wants me anymore.

Wait. The sound of running water catches my attention, and I lift my head.

This isn’t my room.

It’s similar, but it lacks Sloan’s warmth and personal touches. The bed sheets are dark, and the furniture is all sleek metal and sharp angles. The only thing giving this room some personality is the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

And then I spot it. The college jacket draped over a chair.

This must be Sebastian’s room.

I stand up, my legs shaky beneath me. The sound of running water draws me closer, and I peek inside.

Steam fills the bathroom, fogging up the glass shower door. But through the haze, I see him. Unsure if I’m imagining things, I blink. But no, Sebastian stands under the shower stream.

Naked.

Water cascades over the hard, sculpted planes of his back, tracing the contours of his muscles before pooling at the curveof his ass. Each droplet sparkles in the light, creating tiny rivers that race down his legs. One of his hands is braced against the tiled wall, and his strong thighs flex and shift as he moves under the spray.

Look away. This is private. I should leave. Now.

But I’m rooted to the spot, my feet refusing to obey the command. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a deafening drum.

He turns slightly, and my eyes widen. His hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking with a deliberate, leisurely rhythm. A low groan rumbles in his chest, barely audible over the sound of the water. It’s a sound of raw need, of unfiltered desire.

I’ve never seen a man touch himself like this before. Never seen Sebastian like this. It’s…

I bite my lip, transfixed by the way his head is tipped back, exposing the strong line of his neck, the rise and fall of his chest, and the play of his abs as his hand moves with increasing speed.

My body responds with a traitorous eagerness, a needy ache building between my thighs. I press them together, hoping to quell the rising tide of arousal. But it only makes it worse, making me more aware of every tingling nerve.

This is so wrong. An invasion of his privacy. I shouldn’t do this. But I can’t look away. Can’t stop the rush of thoughts and fantasies that flood my mind. My heart races faster, my breathing shallow and quick.

He twists his wrist on each upstroke, his fingers tightening, and I can almost feel the heat of his skin, the slickness of the water.

What would it feel like to have his hands on me as the water rains down on us? To have him…

A soft whimper escapes my lips before I have a chance to stifle it. Sebastian’s head snaps to me, his eyes cutting through the steamy glass with a predator’s intensity, locking onto mine.

Time seems to stop, and the world narrows to the small, fogged-up rectangle of the shower door and the green of his eyes.

Oh, no.

Chapter 27

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