Meant to Crash | ✓

Chapter Twenty-One

Kissing his collarbone, I find new hunger the longer I stared up and down his throat. Longingly, I wanted this moment to transpire the moment I first saw him in that suit downtown, dressed so fit it made you want to rip off his clothes.

I pushed Sebastian on to the couch, joining him by sitting on his lap.

"Fuck me," I said bluntly, stunning even Sebastian at my frankness. "I want you, completely."

He paused, "Where is this all coming from?"

"You don't want to talk anymore."

"That doesn't mean you have to throw yourself at me," he informed, shifting away. The act alone, him moving as fast as possible off of me, had me feeling embarrassed. My hands, and where I placed them, became the only concern. I didn't have an ounce of shame in my body before, but now I was highly aware of how much of my skin Sebastian could see.

Was I not pretty? Did he not want me? I rushed to my feet, snatching for a blanket. There was a pile of wool blankets on an old footstool, draped in gray material and covered with scuffs from the years of use. I wanted to wrap myself up until I disappeared in the fabric.

Sebastian's words broke through the chaos in my head, asking so softly, "Why do you think I invited you here?"

"I..." I couldn't admit what I was honestly thinking. Baring no courage in me, I cleared my throat, acting like there was spit lodged in my air way, hindering me from speaking at all. "I have no clue what your intentions were. You're...you're kinda confusing. Is that ok to admit?"

He laughed. "This isn't a test, Maddison."

My shoulders deflated, at last relaxing into the seat but keeping a good distance from him. I wasn't ready to fling myself at him like a rag doll again...or any time soon, for that matter. "Can I say something else...?"

"Go for it."

As if seeing that as the green light, I went for it.

"The moment you gave me this job," I made known, twiddling my thumbs, "I thought your only desire was to sleep with me."

"First off, don't say I gave you this job." he said, walking to the bar cart near the bay window. Sebastian started making himself a drink, cracking open the wax seal on his aged whiskey. He struggled, playing it off by laughing and then finally turning his back to me.

"You earned this title."

"Yeah, sure, and I'm seven feet tall." I rolled my eyes. "Save that speech for H.R."

"Hey, now, that's no joke."

"Good thing I'm not a comedian," I replied, "There was no setup or punchline to what I said."

"Maddison, you can't go around saying that to people. You'll get me reprimanded."

"Oh no, what's gonna happen?" I fake pouted. "Your dad owns the whole place."

"Please, stop. Workplace harassment is taken seriously." He dropped two glasses on the table before me, sloshing around brown liquor. "Do you want one?"

"I don't know, what does Lockhart Incorporated say about an employer serving drinks to a---"

"It's a yes, or a no," he cut me off. "I'm not forcing you to drink."

"Yes," I replied, taking the other glass. Wincing after one sip, I spat out most of the room temp liquid I tried to swallow down. "I need a mixer. And some fucking ice. What the hell? Are we in the 1700s? Give me at least some ice."

"Grow up."

"Fuck you," I said without hesitation, going toward the kitchen. "I don't want to burn a hole to my kidney. Some of us actually like enjoying our drinks, too."