Billionaires and Bridesmaids (Page 73)

“You’re utterly perfect.”

“I’m not,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t sleep with the lights off and I can’t enjoy sex unless I’m wearing skates and I think I ate ten pounds of chocolate-covered pretzels this last week because I was so depressed over things. That video might come out at some point after all.” The thought made her sick. “No matter how many lawyers and police we throw at it. Everything always gets out on the Internet. I could still ruin your family.”

“You are my family, Chelsea. Don’t you get that? I love you with all of my heart and soul. If you’re not in my life, I have nothing. I don’t care if you’re the woman you think I need, but you’re the woman I want. I love you and adore you, and every minute without you is worthless.”

Did any girl deserve such a wonderful man? Chelsea leaned in and kissed him again, whispering, “I love you, Sebastian.”

He groaned. “I love you, too, sweetheart. I’ve loved you from the moment your lips touched mine. I mean it when I say I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine. We can move to Austin. Hell, we can move to Venezuela. Just stay with me and be by my side.”

“I like your home,” she said between quick, happy kisses. God, she was so happy. She couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop touching him. “I like being with you. You’re my home, Sebastian. You and my team.”

“As long as I come first,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, grinning. Her happiness and relief bubbled over, and she gave him another quick kiss. “I have a question, though . . . Did you watch the video?” She’d live with it if he had, but the thought sent a twinge of misery through her.

He shook his head. “I don’t need to see it to believe you.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you believe me.”

Sebastian tenderly brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “The last thing I want to see is a video of you getting hurt. I never want to see it. Ever.”

That made the tears blur her vision. She didn’t realize how important it was to her that he not see it. That he not witness her most shameful moment. That it remain in her past instead of between them. “Thank you.”

“I never want to do anything that would hurt you, Chelsea. You know that.” His lips brushed over her forehead. “I love you too much for that.”

“I love you, too,” she said softly, and pressed her cheek against his chest, her arms going around his waist in a hug.

He rubbed her back, holding her against him for an eternity. They stayed there in the parking lot, locked in nothing but a hug, and for Chelsea, it felt . . . cleansing. Wonderful. Like the past was once more falling away.

Sebastian was her future.

Her hands slid up and down his back lightly, dragging over the material of his shirt. Just enjoying his touch, and the feel of his body against hers.

His big body shifted against her. “Did you want to go back inside to the bout?”

She kinda just wanted to stay here, in his arms, forever. “Not really?”

He exhaled. “That’s a good thing. My pants are starting to get uncomfortably tight in the front.”

She chuckled and slid a hand around to the crotch of his jeans. Sure enough, his cock was hard, tenting the material. “What, here?”

He pulled her hand away. “Unless you want to get nailed in the parking lot, Mrs. Hall-Cabral, I suggest we go back to my hotel room.”

“Back to Pisa’s apartment first,” Chelsea said, then gave him a naughty look. “All my gear’s there.”

“Then that’s where we’re going,” he said solemnly. “Gear, then hotel.”

“Or . . . gear, and we can just make out on her couch.”

“I like that idea better,” he said, grabbing her hand and hurrying her along in the parking lot. “Less driving around, and more fucking my wife.”

She liked it better, too.

He had a rented sedan and a driver waiting out in the street, and she got into the car with him and immediately texted Pisa a message.

Chesty: Having hot nasty reunion sex with my husband at your place. Consider this notification as a virtual sock on the door.

Not that Pisa would see it until after the bout. She also texted Drew a quick message as to where she’d gone, and to not wait for her. Then, she flung her arms around Sebastian’s neck and kissed him again.

Because, really, she could kiss him while waiting for her gear, couldn’t she? She could.

He hauled her against him and kissed her hard, and even though she was expecting to feel nothing, she felt a prickle of arousal move through her. This was Sebastian, with his warm skin and familiar mouth, and the spicy scent of the soap she made for him touching her nose. He was safe, and it was okay to let go with him.

He had her back.

And so she experimented with small kisses, her lips playing against his. Soft nibbles, flicks of her tongue, and sometimes just pressing her mouth against his. As long as it kept her in contact with Sebastian, it felt good and right, and she didn’t hate it.

She kind of liked it, actually. It wasn’t the blazing inferno of emotion she felt when she had her uniform on, but it was a nice little spark.

She was happy about that spark. It meant that she could keep improving in the future. It might take her years before she wouldn’t have to make love to her husband with her skates on, but she felt it was possible.

And hope was a wonderful, wonderful thing.

Then again, so was touching Sebastian.