Page 79 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
“I-I know.”
“For the bellboy,” I say, taking Sebastian’s hands in his own. “He might get let go, and this looks like a nice job.”
“You’re so sweet,” Sebastian says, staring at me in something like awe.
“I imagine he was highly compensated,” Sebastian assures me.
“He might have posted it on his social media,” I say.
“Everyone can be a paparazzo now,” Sebastian says, his smile wry.
“Maybe.”
We stare at the wall in front of us. At the beige grass wallpaper, just special enough to be considered appropriate for a luxury hotel.
Sebastian is beside me.
I take his hand in mine. “I liked last night.”
“We can’t repeat it.”
“Do you want to repeat it?”
He shrinks. “That’s not relevant.”
“No,” I say firmly. “What you want is relevant.”
“I can’t believe you know who I am.”
“It’s cute you were acting like I wouldn’t know who you are,” I say, and I smile as pink descends upon his cheeks again.
Sebastian raises his chin. “It worked for Clark Kent.”
“I guess I know the problem then.”
“I’m not flying through the sky in a stretchy suit?”
“Hey. I like your suits and you’ve certainly reached the highest heights of reality TV.”
“I’m not saving the world.”
“You’re saving the world from boring evenings one well-produced hour at a time.”
He laughs, and warmth fills my heart.
“I’m not Lois Lane,” I say, leaning close to him.
His eyes widen, and then we are kissing. I lean him down on the bed, gently because there is nothing more precious in this world, then I climb over him.
The kisses are good.
Of course, they are good.
Because they are us.
My heart speeds, flying faster and faster. The world is succulent lips and a talented tongue and unshaven cheeks that scrape against mine and remind me that I’m kissing a man, that I’m kissing him. The world is firm hands and a flat torso and a hard cock poking against me. The world is blue eyes that gaze at me stunned when I leave his lips for breath.
The world is him, and he is wonderful.
