Page 79 of Addicted To His Favorite
Emily’s cheeks flamed at the relentless boasting. She darted a glare toward Sebastian, silently demanding he put an end to it—but he only lowered his head slightly, shoulders shaking faintly as he stifled a laugh.
When his eyes lifted to hers, they glimmered with mischief. He gave her the quickest of winks, sending a jolt through her chest. Emily sucked in a sharp breath, panic fluttering as she glanced around to make sure no one else had noticed.
“You’re so smart,” Diana chimed in at last, her eyes warm and sparkling with admiration. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-two, Mrs. Crawford,” Sebastian replied smoothly, his tone polite but carrying an easy confidence.
“You’ve accomplished a lot at such a young age,” Diana said warmly, her smile touched with awe.
“Thank you, Mrs. Crawford,” Sebastian responded graciously, inclining his head.
Adam cut in again. “And he even works with Emily now! She’s handling one of the projects from his company. There couldn’t be a better man for her to be around. Sebastian is brilliant, capable, loyal—Emily’s fortunate to be around someone like him.”
Emily’s face grew hotter by the second, her hands curling into her dress to steady herself. She wished the ground would swallow her whole. Beside her, Sebastian’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, deeply amused by Adam’s words.
After a moment, George cleared his throat. “Emily, why don’t you show Sebastian to the guest room? The rain’s coming down hard tonight—he should stay over.”
Emily nodded, relief washing over her as the conversation finally shifted away. She cast a quick glance at Sebastian, who gave her a subtle, heated look—one that made her spine straighten instinctively.
“This way,” she said softly.
They walked side by side up the staircase, the wooden steps creaking faintly under their weight. Emily pushed open the door to the guestroom and stepped inside first, gesturing lightly with her hand.
“This is the guestroom. You can stay here tonight. If you need anything, just let me know.” She hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you want something to eat? I can bring it up.”
Before she could move, Sebastian’s hand shot out, pressing her back against the wall. His tall frame loomed close, his voice a low rumble near her ear.
“I don’t want food,” he murmured, his lips brushing dangerously close. “I want to eat you.”
Emily’s breath faltered. She placed her palms against his chest, trying to push him back though her own heartbeat betrayed her words. “Not here,” she whispered urgently, her face flushing crimson. “My parents are right downstairs.”
Sebastian, undeterred, pressed her back against the cool wall, one hand sliding to the back of her head while his thumb traced the edge of her jaw. His eyes darkened with intent.
“Just a kiss,” he muttered, but the words were cut off when he seized her, his mouth crashing onto hers before she could breathe.
His grip on her waist yanked her forward, slamming her against his chest as his other hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back. His lips parted hers roughly, his tongue driving deep, sweeping hard, taking control of her mouth with fast, hungry strokes.
He moved against her like he couldn’t get close enough—chest locked to hers, hips pinning her in place, his thigh sliding between her legs as he pressed her back into the wall. His torso shifted with each demanding kiss, muscles tightening under her hands as he crushed her closer, his body caging her completely.
His teeth caught her bottom lip briefly before he surged in again, mouth working over hers with messy, relentless heat. Every drag of his lips, every thrust of his tongue sent her pulse racing, his breath harsh as he kissed her like he meant to devour every sound she made.
The sudden knock at the door shattered the moment. He tore his mouth from hers, both of them breathless, his forehead falling against hers as his chest heaved.
“Sebastian, would you like to have dinner with us?” George’s voice called from outside.
Emily gasped, breaking away in a rush.
Sebastian eased back from her, his hand slipping away though his body lingered close. She pressed herself into the corner of the wall, trying to make herself small, her pulse thundering in her ears.
A moment later, George appeared at the doorway, pushing it open a little. “Sebastian, are you ready to have dinner—or would you like to shower and rest first?” he asked politely, already stepping inside.
Sebastian turned at once, his composure flawless. He strode toward the door as though nothing at all had happened.
“No need, Mr. Crawford,” he replied smoothly, meeting George’s eyes. “I’d like to have dinner now. Let’s go.”
With practiced ease, he guided George out into the hallway.
Just before leaving, Sebastian glanced back over his shoulder at Emily. His expression softened for a fleeting second—something unreadable flashing in his eyes, almost a quiet sadness—before he disappeared with George.
