Meant to Crash | ✓

Chapter Twenty-Eight

[ mature content warning: smut ]
Read after the ****

Sebastian was taller than me by a decent amount, and anytime we were close to kissing, I was reminded of that fact. His shoulders were broad. His chest and arms, undressed already, were pale against the soft lights. I quite liked the way his muscles flexed, picking my feet up off the floor with ease. Entranced by him, I kept my eyes low as he placed us both on to the bedside.

His beauty always amazed me - no matter how often I saw him. The sharpness of his jaw, the shape his eyes, the look of desire whenever he thought I wasn't looking.

After disrobing me, I was left bare before him with nothing but my bra and underwear on. A cool air whooshed through the room from a cracked window. Salty sea breeze accompanied the A/C. I was instantly shivering.

"I need to get under the covers," I announced, and Sebastian laughed.

"I can do this under the blanket."

Out of all the rooms, I was happy that he had picked one that happened to be the sleeping quarters on the boat. "You're sneaky." I spoke up.

"For what?"

"You walked us down here, knowing it was a bedroom." I noticed. "You were trying to get lucky."

"False."

"Oh, yeah? How come?"

"I didn't think we would do anything," he admitted. "I did, however, have hope that I could kiss you for a few minutes down here." He trailed his lips to my neck.

A shiver went through me at the contact. "I'm still not in a good mood."

"Let me change that."

Sebastian was kneeling over me, under the sheets, and making a path of kisses from hollow of my collarbone to seams of my panties. His mouth felt warm on my skin, burning a trail to his destination. Unhooking my bra myself, I tossed it to the end of the bed. Sebastian wasted no time in touching my breast, cupping them into his hands and kissing them. My back arched at the sensation building in between my legs. I was itching for attention in other regions, wishing he would start focusing on pleasing me rather than teasing me.

"You're so breathtaking," he whispered. "Every part of you."

I was stunned at the compliment –perhaps at the setting of it. Where we were. What we were doing. I thought he would be more into dirty talk, speaking to me in a filthy way. Instantly, I preferred that over him calling me his little slut or something crazy like that. That would've been a turn-off. I liked the sweet remark he made.

"Thank you," I said in response, "You're handsome."

"I know."

Of course, he would say that.

He cracked a smile and then returned to his previous position, hovering near my underwear. My head knocked back at the first touch, jolting at the wet sensation of his tongue on me. Sucking softly at the beginning, my mind went wild as the pressure built up inside of me. He asked to add a finger, and then another. I nodded immediately, practically begging for it.

A loud moan almost slipped out.

Sebastian reminded me of where we were, and that made it ten times harder to want to be quiet. I wanted Sasha or Connie to hear me. I wanted the reporters to hear me. I had no desire in staying mute.

"Please," he asked a second time, "I don't want to get caught."

This time, unlike before, I listened and kept my mouth shut and enjoyed it.

"Could I ride your face?" I asked.

And of course, Sebastian didn't object to my request.

****

Timothy would be taking a ride with his grandfather.

Yes, I arranged for that. I wasn't afraid to admit I was intimidated by a kid.

Sebastian left me in the lobby, telling me he would go grab the car from where he parked it. I waited for him.

"That's not the same person."

I had my eyes closed for a moment, so I didn't know who had spoken. My head whipped around the room and saw there was a pair in a booth a few tables away from me. From what I could see, it was a man and a woman. I shut my eyes again, uninterested at whatever it was they were discussing.

"I've known her for years," the woman said, "I'm telling you, it's the same person. She might've gotten some work done, but I know for a fact that it's her."

"And her daughter?"

"I was told that she was living with her father. But she moved in with her mother in San Francisco."

"Do you think the girl knows?"

"That's what I'm worried about. If she knows, then we need to take her out of the equation for good."

This made me open my eyes again. My body was in a state of shock, unable to move. I was hoping they didn't notice me only feet away from them, eavesdropping on their conversation. Whoever they were talking about sounded a lot like she had a life similar to my own.

I peered back at the booth where I'd seen the two strangers talk earlier, but to my disbelief, there was no one there. My head shifted to the left and saw two figures going towards the party I had rushed out of. For a split moment, the woman turned back to the bar and I recognized her in an instant. It was Mrs. Lockhart. The man's face didn't ring a bell. I saw him for a fraction of a second. It wasn't long enough for me to connect a name to a face. Despite not knowing him, I was still zeroed in on them to see what would happen next.

A hefty letter came out of her purse, almost busting open with cash falling out. They were standing face to face at the corridor entrance. With the amount of distance between us, I could only read her lips as they formed the words: "Get it done."

Or maybe she said: "get her dead."

I'm not that good at reading mouths.

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