Page 71 of The Pretender

“Valentina!”

His voice is a roar, and it halts me midjump.

“What is wrong?”

I think it’s pretty obvious, but sometimes I can get a little antsy, so maybe Sebastian needs me to confirm if there’s a real issue or if I’m just being a spaz.

I shoot him a clear look of, 'I told you so.’ “Something is stinging me!”

Or stung me. My whole leg is throbbing at this point, so for all I know, the little bastard could still be chomping away, and I wouldn’t be able to tell new pain from the initial sting.

“Where?” Sebastian says, his hand coming to rest on my back.

Oh wow. He moved fast.

I shoo him off and take a step toward the house. “My shorts—oh my gosh! Is it still in there?”

I was wrong; I can still feel the sting. Oh my gosh. Watch this thing be in my panties. That’s all I need— “What the hell are you doing?”

Before I can react and smack his hands away, Sebastian has my shorts down and pooled at my feet. “I’m making sure it’s not in your clothes.”

He tries to keep his gaze on my face and not on the movie reel panties I’m currently wearing. They aren’t awful, but they aren’t the lacy kind that Aspen wears that literally only cover half of her butt cheeks. I kind of like my cheeks secured and not hanging out like half-wrapped Moon Pies.

“I’m going to make sure it’s gone, okay?”

He holds his hands up as though he’s coming in peace and not planning on copping a feel. His throat works and I’m mesmerized by the action of a strong man kneeling at my feet.

“Okay?” He prompts me again.

I nod, fighting the urge to fidget as his eyes hold mine and drift lower going from my face, to my chest, and then losing my gaze and examining the skin below my hips.

I can feel goosebumps rise as his fingers lead the hunt for the devil bug, moving gently across my heated flesh and around my hip. I can feel his breath against my skin, and I can’t tell if it’s cooling me down or setting me on fire.

“I don’t see anything,” he notes softly at my hip, his fingers dangerously close to the edge of the only fabric covering me.

I swallow and avoid his concerned eyes and look up to the sky. It’s blue. The clouds look like soft pillows. Like the one Sebastianused tosleep on when his pouty lips were at rest, all boyish and cute and—oh no. No, no, Vee. We are not doing this again. We promised not to fall for Sebastian again.

I focus and lean my head down and meet his eyes. “It’s not at my hip.”

I cringe, and Sebastian nods like this is a fight he can handle, even if neither of us want to.

“Where exactly?”

Yeah, he’s definitely just as nervous as I am. This is uncharted territory. We might have been friends before this competition, but we’ve never been this close to one another. I can feel his breath at my center and his hand, still on my hip, is trembling.

This will not turn out well.

“My,” I swallow, “—inner thigh.”

Yeah, he winced, but I’m not mad. I understand. If our roles were reversed, I would act the same way.

He takes a deep breath and nods like a good little Boy Scout and lets his fingers slide over my hip bone, cresting toward the middle until they stop, reaching the split of my legs. I highly doubt the yellow jacket is still lurking on my skin or in my panties or shorts, but I feel like now is not the time to add that little tidbit and distract Sebastian.

Sure, I said this would probably end badly, and I still stand by that bet, but I’ve never been known to make good decisions when it comes to Sebastian. I’ve always just let rationality fall to the wayside and indulged my spontaneous and wild side when it came to him.

This evening is no different.

The pad of Sebastian’s finger is soft and warm as it slides over my skin and hesitates before he looks up at me and swallows.

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