Page 47 of The Rebound (Close Quarters 3)

That’s it. End of story.

I reach into the picnic basket and pull out a punnet of strawberries. Along with that we have a loaf of herb bread, a wheel of Brie and some crumbly, sharp cheddar. All my favourite things.

“You’re spoiling me,” he says, reaching for a strawberry and popping it into his mouth. He tosses the little green stem into the punnet’s lid.

“Well, it’s a last hurrah and last hurrahs need food.” My stomach sinks.

What the hell is wrong with you?

Life has been a roller-coaster this past week. Big white wedding—up. Finding out your fiancé doesn’t love you—down. Realising you probably didn’t love him, either—up. Falling for his stupidly sexy stepbrother—down...or is that one also up? I don’t even know anymore.

“What’s this?” He peers into the picnic basket and finds the little velvet pouch I’ve stashed there. “Is this what I think it is?”

He pulls it out and tugs on the drawstring. To anyone watching, it probably looks like a gift of some kind. A birthday present, perhaps.

I shrug off all the unwanted thoughts and focus on the here and now. On the pleasure. On watching reality dawn across his face like a rising sun, filling his eyes and expression with heat. He looks up at me, eyes dark. Jaw tense.

“Are you wearing it now?” He slips the small plastic remote out of the velvet pouch and into his pocket. He knows what I want. What I need.

And he wants it, too.

I nod. We’re totally out in the open. The riverbank isn’t too crowded, because it’s a weekday, but there are still plenty of people. A small group of cyclists in spandex fly past. Across the river is a bar with people sitting and drinking outside, as well as a boat that runs short cruises. People mill about, waiting to board.

“You’re so hot, Presley.” He laughs, and the sound is like the gentle kiss of a razor blade along my nerve endings. It’s sinful and exciting, and it turns me on that he’s so into making me feel good. “God. I didn’t think...”

“What?”

“You’re a total surprise.” He plants one hand on the ground and leans over to kiss me.

“So are you,” I murmur against his lips. Just as I think we’re having a tender moment, there’s a sudden and sharp vibration between my legs.

I gasp and he captures the sound by kissing me deep, delving his tongue between my lips. Thank God it’s as silent as the sales associate promised, because there’s a man walking his dog not two feet from us. I have to force myself not to groan as the little butterfly clip does its thing, shuddering against me in a way that has my sex tightening and pulsing. Then the vibrations stop and he pulls away.

“You look like you’re enjoying thatfartoo much,” I say with a laugh.

“I like being in control.” He reaches for another strawberry and this time directs it to my mouth. When I bite into the juicy flesh, I catch him shifting out of the corner of my eye.

“A little uncomfortable?” I tilt my head, my voice saccharine-sweet. We’re both on the receiving end of teasing today.

“I’m guessing you were counting on that.” He tries to subtly adjust himself, but there’s no mistaking the giant bulge in his pants. Eventually he takes his jacket off and tosses it over his lap. “If I start tenting this, then we have problems.”

I snort. It’s a strange thing, but I never realised sex and sexuality could be fun. I know, that sounds weird. But sex has always been this serious thing to me. It’s something that I had to prepare for, to get into the mood for. Something I had to shave my legs and have a glass of wine and dim the lights for. It’s not like I didn’t enjoy sex, but I never fully felt relaxed during it.

Maybe that’s because I’ve never truly felt comfortable with another man like I do with Sebastian.

I’m waiting for the moment he strikes again, but Sebastian lures me into a false sense of security with funny stories about his old job and the guy he once shared an apartment with who liked to walk around in a mankini when he was drunk. I’m in stitches, tears in my eyes, and I take my sunglasses off to dab at where my mascara is surely smudging.

“You really do have the most incredible eyes,” he says, stopping my hand as I move to slide the glasses back on. “That was the first thing I noticed about you.”

“Really?” I scoff, slipping the glasses back up my nose. “Thatwas the first thing you noticed?”

“Well, after I got over the shock of having a near-naked woman in my car, it was.” He grinned.

That day feels like a million years ago. “I know nothing has turned out the way I hoped, but I think today is the first day I really feel it was for the better. I mean, I’ve known it logically since the moment it happened, but Ifeelit today.”

“Good. You’ve got the whole world at your feet, Pres. You can have anything you want.”

No, I can’t. Because I can’t have you.

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