Page 27 of Worth the Heat
“You switch your off days every week, but you’ve been adhering to the same schedule for over a year. You flip-flop Tuesdays and Thursdays, then the third week of the month, you take off Sundays.”
“I didn’t realize you’d kept such a close eye on me,” I tease.
Trace chuckles. “I think you know who has kept a close eye on you, and it sure as shit wasn’t me.”
I feel heat spread up my neck as I giggle awkwardly. “Thanks for being there today, and helping me clean up after the cabinet catastrophe.”
“My pleasure. Now get out before Seb stalks over here and demands a duel. I can see the steam coming out of his ears from here.”
I look up quickly, and notice Sebastian’s eyes trained on me. He definitely looks unhappier than he did when we originally pulled up, but I find it hard to believe it’s solely because I spent aminute speaking with Trace. Thanking him again, I exit his truck and approach Sebastian slowly. “Is everything okay?”
“What were you talking to Trace about?” he asks.
“My schedule,” I say slowly, watching as Sebastian’s eyes dance along the horizon as he pulls me into the garage. I hear Trace drive away as Sebastian closes the door. “And how apparently you gave him a look that told him I could get out of the car?”
“I did.” His hand finds mine as we walk between his motorcycle and my car.
“Do you really think some sharpshooter is just hanging out on MC land, waiting for the fat baker to come home from work?”
Sebastian stops, turning so quickly I run into him. His eyes narrow as he steps into my space, and I subconsciously back up until I hit the side of my car. He crowds against me, his hand finding my neck, and I shudder. “I don’t know which part of that sentence I need to address first, or which part pisses me off the most. Don’t ever speak about a sharpshooter possibly staking you out. You think I’d actually let one fucking inch of my property go unsurveilled right now? Even taking you out of the equation, Isabella, I have a child here. I would never put her safety at risk.”
Blood drains from my face. “I’m sorry. That was so uncouth of me. Of course you wouldn’t.”
His thumb rubs against my pulse point, and his eyes drop to my lips as he lines his body up with mine. “And do you really think I’d put your safety at risk? Now that I finally have you close to me? Now that you might actually be seeing what I’ve been saying all along?”
I don’t answer as his hand slides up to my jaw, and his thumb pushes against my lower lip. With enough pressure, my mouth opens slightly, and I watch as Sebastian’s eyes become hooded. His other hand drifts down my side, latching onto my thigh, lifting it. I gasp when he lines himself up with my core, and I feel every inch of him. “Do you feel what you do to me,miReina? I haven’t even touched you. Tasted you. Fuck, I haven’t even kissed you. But I’m hard as steel just being in your orbit. I dream about your body, Isabella. Every inch of you is perfection. I’ve wanted you for years.Years. I crave you, exactly as you are. And the word ‘fat’ shouldn’t ever be used to describe your exquisite body.”
I’m absolutely panting, on the verge of an orgasm just from his words. Each word was spoken with such clarity, his hot breath breaking across my skin like fire, and I’m overcome with desire unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
“What’smi Reina?” I ask breathlessly, as my core clenches in wanton need. How many different names has he called me so far? Each time my stomach flips, and I wonder if that will change.
His eyes close as he rests his forehead against mine, and his answer is spoken directly onto my lips. “It means ‘my queen.’”
Before I can respond, or lose my head and press our lips together like I desperately want to, I hear a door whip open. “Daddy! I found a kitten!”
“Fuck,” Sebastian whispers, squeezing my thigh before dropping it from his hand.
“I’m sorry,Mijo, but we couldn’t leave a kitten on the road. Now come inside so I can meet the woman your daughter hasn’t stopped talking about,” a woman calls.
I gasp. “Who is that? Do you have a girlfriend?”
Sebastian groans as he steps back from me, hurt evident in his brown eyes. “Seriously? Everything I just said and you still don’t believe me? For fuck’s sake, Isabella. It’s my mother.”
Shit. I feel awful. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, Sebastian.”
I attempt to shuffle past him, but he grabs my hand. “I’m a patient man, sweetheart. I can wait until you’re ready for me. For us. But one thing I will not be patient about is you consistently assuming I’m a liar. The only women in my life are all related to me by blood. I will not stand by and let you accuse me of hidinganother woman from you. Now let’s go meet my mother, and I bet my grandmother is here, too.”
Two minutes later, I’m standing in front of three Garcia women, lined up on Sebastian’s living room couch, and I’ve never been more nervous as he introduces me. His mother, Gabriela, has the same smile as Sebastian, but his grandmother, Rosario, studies me with pursed lips. “Ella tiene buenas caderas.”
“Jesus Christ,” Sebastian mutters, rubbing his hand across his forehead. “English,Abuela. It’s rude to speak in Spanish in front of others.”
I turn to him as my mouth drops open. “Why is your grandmother commenting on the size of my hips?”
“How did you know that?” Camila asks. “Are you Puerto Rican too?”
“No,” I tell her. “My family is Italian.”
Rosario scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Italiano no es lo mismo.”
