I stepped toward him, my hands raised with the intention of showing him to the door. Tears streamed down my face in another promise to myself broken.
"I know." He took my hands in his, pressed them to his shirt. "I know."
I mashed my face against his chest, blotting tears and madness on his t-shirt. "You don't know anything. You think I'm awful."
He brought his chin to the top of my head, let out a sigh that would've sounded like contentment coming from anyone else. "I don't think you're awful at all."
"You just said I'm a psychotic screech owl," I said with a sniffle.
"You know I say that with love."
"Shut up. The only thing you love is getting me angry enough to want to have sex with you."
For a long moment, the only sounds between us came from my sniffles and shuddering breaths. It seemed like we could've stayed there for hours, laced and locked together while the world went on without us. I hated that it was so easy. All I had to do was rub my cheek against his hard chest and suck in a lungful of his clean scent, and I forgot all the reasons I needed him to leave. I forgot everything I'd sworn I'd remember. Everything that made this so damn messy for me.
"I want a cease-fire," Sebastian said, his lips pressed to the crown of my head. "From now until you leave, no fighting."
"I don't think we can do that."
He shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."
I hid a smile against his chest even though I wanted to lunge for him. Wrap my hands around his neck and watch those obscenely long lashes fall shut while his scowl shifted into a smile. He would smile. He'd grin while I pressed my thumb in the exact spot to cut off his air supply, and that said something about the toxicity we created when we were together. If it also said something about trust, I didn't have the proper ears to hear it.
"Stop falling apart for a minute and see what it's like when we don't fight," he said. "Show me who you are without all the screeching. Who knows? I might like her better."
"If you want a cease-fire, you're going to have to put your fighting words away."
"Tell me you want a cease-fire and I will," he replied, giving our joined hands a squeeze. "Be as strong as you always are for me and say you need a couple of days where it's just us and none of the bullshit we left at home, and I will give you everything you want." He ran his lips over my forehead, my temple. "You know I will."
Another rush of tears burned my eyes as I nodded. "I want it."
The scary part was that I meant it and I couldn't even blame it on losing my mind as we tumbled into bed because there wasn't a single sexy thing about this moment. I was sweaty and snotty and sobbing into his shirt for reasons that had nothing to do with the miracles his penis worked.
He freed his hand, skimmed a thumb across my cheeks. "Don't cry, tiny tornado."
"Believe me, crying in front of you is the last thing I want to do."
His scowl twisted tight across his lips as he gave me a quick nod. "Right. Yeah. How about a shower?"
I dropped my forehead to his chest again, heaved out a breath. "I'm gross. I know. There's no pretty way to travel from winter weather to tropical weather."
"No, honey, you're clothed," he said. "That's the problem I'm attempting to address."
"It's because I threw a pillow at you," I said. "And yelled about my life being out of control. That's what turns you on."
"It's really not." He ran his knuckles down my back, silent a long moment before letting that hand travel over my backside. He gave me a rough squeeze, jerked me closer to him. "I haven't stopped thinking about you once. I thought I was hallucinating when I first saw you. That I was so out of my mind with wondering what your t-shirt said today that you materialized out of thin air."
"'Let the Beat Drop,'" I said. "With a drawing of a QRS complex on an EKG."
"Oh my god." He growled against my neck, a deep, rumbly sound that seemed to go on forever. "Yeah, I need to get you out of these clothes. You're a nerdy little nutcracker, you know that?"
Not waiting for a response, he shoved his hand in my back pocket and steered me toward the bedroom, pulling off my shirt and thumbing open my button fly as we went.
"Did you bring any toys?"
"Like, sex toys? No. I don't need awkward airport situations, thank you."
"What does that mean? Never mind. What is this thing? Is it a sports bra?" he asked, running a finger under the band.
"It's a bralette," I replied. "It's comfortable and I'm not interested in your opinion of it."
"All I want to know is how to get it off." He reached for the band again, but I batted him away.
"I'll get it," I said, elbowing my way out of it.
In my brief glimpse of the bedroom, I caught sight of a huge bed with gorgeous white linens and a dreamy canopy. I almost asked him to take me to bed, but then he flipped on the lights in the bathroom and I knew this was the way to go. The shower itself was the size of the kitchen in my apartment. All my appliances and all of my counter space could fit in there, and there was still room for me, Sebastian, and all seventy or eighty of the showerheads.
"Whoa."
Sebastian reached behind me to switch on the water and suddenly it sounded as though I was standing behind a waterfall.
"Whoa," I repeated.
"Yes, indoor plumbing, very nice," he said, pushing my jeans down my legs. He gave my panties an impatient glare. "Less talking, more naked and wet, please."
I stepped out of my jeans and underwear, kicked them aside. I motioned to him, saying, "Practice what you preach."
He yanked his shirt over his head. "Your hair," he said, confusion creasing the corners of his eyes. "It's different."
I reached for his waist, unlatched his belt. Sent his shorts falling to the floor. "Yeah, I had the color done. A little lighter, the roots touched up." When he went on studying me, still confused, I added, "This isn't my natural color. It's medium brown. I would've thought you'd figured that out by now with…you know, everything."
"I would've thought you'd realized I am stupid and helpless and single-minded when I get your clothes off," he replied, tucking a few wisps of hair over my ear. He looped an arm around my back. "The only thing I ever want to figure out is how to keep you naked."
"I don't think that's true." When he didn't respond to that, I asked, "How does this work? This cease-fire thing? Aside from not insulting each other, what are we supposed to do?"
He stared at my mouth for a second, shook his head, and then pressed his lips to mine. Steam rose around us and that damp heat licked at my skin while everything inside me turned soft. That was it, I was soft when he kissed me—but also needy and starved and mindless. There was nothing else in the world when we collided like this, and while I was here, with his hand in my hair, his shaft hard against my belly, and everything inside me lighting up in response, I didn't want anything else.
Sebastian backed me into the shower, a gentle mist raining over us while we kissed and climbed and pawed at each other. "I didn't come here with the intention of having sex," he said, his lips on my jaw.