Trusting Stone

by Alexa Sinclaire

  Sebastian swept his hands through his unkempt wavy hair, almost as dark as hers. And suddenly, they were moving again. He was guiding her toward the town car and, for a moment, Eden wondered if she should protest. Was she really about to get into the car? She hardly knew the man. They had barely had a real conversation. But without a further moment’s hesitation, she ducked down to get in. Sebastian had released his grip, but kept contact by touching her on the small of her back as they got settled. Only when they were both seated did he break contact and pull back.

  Eden realized she wanted him to be touching her again. This thought scared her and she edged back into the corner of her seat, pressing herself against the door, trying to establish some distance between them. He still hadn’t spoken, and Eden glanced up now to see that he was staring at her. The warmth she had witnessed in his eyes momentarily in the hall was gone and she practically shuddered under his cold gaze.

  “Where do you live?” he asked, and Eden managed to tell him her address. What the hell was she doing? Did Sebastian intend to take her back to her apartment, and then what? He’d asked if she was afraid of him and she said no. God, she’d lost all sense of safety and had now told this stranger where she lived and was trapped in a car with him. Eden knew she should be more sensible, knew she should at least text Mara and tell where she was in case Sebastian did turn out to be a psychopath. But she didn’t. She’d felt something when he touched her, and whatever it was, she was willing to take the risk to pursue it.

  The car shifted into motion and Sebastian pressed a button, raising the privacy screen between the driver and the backseat. Eden’s debutante training was beginning to kick in and she started to speak.

  “I don’t know how to thank…” But before she could finish the sentence, he was on her.

  Sebastian’s lips pressed against hers with a gentleness that didn’t seem to match the cool blue eyes that had been watching her moments ago. His hands caressed her hair and Eden found herself responding. She kissed back, opening her mouth to let his tongue gently sweep in. That act of acceptance acted like a trigger and Sebastian’s soft kiss turned ferocious. His hands gripped her hair, angling her head as his mouth assaulted hers. But she responded in turn and her hands reached to grasp his forearms, pulling him into her even more.

  With one hand still lost in her hair, his right hand started moving, sliding down her neck, traveling over the smooth black silk of her dress until it cupped her breast. Eden moaned in surprise and desire. She should have been afraid, but she wasn’t. For the first time in years, she wanted this, wanted this man who she barely knew caressing her, touching her, turning her on. She pushed forward with her body, signaling to him that he had permission, wanting him to do more, giving herself to him. She could feel herself getting wet and she sucked in air as his mouth broke away from their embrace and moved down her face, kissing her neck and exposed skin along her shoulder.

  The electricity she had felt in the hall when he had simply grazed her shoulder with his fingers was now magnified as his lips and tongue danced across her skin, and her body felt like it was on fire. His touch seemed to ignite and yet quench the flames that shot through her. His hand moved from her breast, sweeping down her waist, cupping her ass and pulling her even closer. She moaned into his hair as his mouth continued to caress and nuzzle her neckline. She was lost in his touch and his scent, her senses overwhelmed.

  Suddenly, he pulled away and Eden tried to regain her composure, gasping for air, smoothing her dress as he leaned across her to open the door. She hadn’t even realized they had stopped. How long had they been driving? It had felt like only seconds. Unsure of what to do, Eden stepped out of the town car, making sure to hold her clutch tight to her, attempting to breathe deeply and quell the feeling between her legs. Eden looked up to see they were in front of her apartment building.

  “Let me walk you to your door, Miss Maxwell.”

  “I can’t believe you remember by last name,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze. She was suddenly embarrassed as to how she’d responded to his touch in the car, the way her body had moved against his, so willing, clearly yearning for more.

  “Lead the way, Eden…” Sebastian caught her eye and she saw the warmth that had comforted her in the club.

  She smiled, relaxing in his gaze finally. When they got to her apartment door, she wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t want this to end, whatever it was. She needed more, but the rational part of her brain had kicked in and she didn’t know if she could bring herself to invite him in, to become a young 22-year-old woman who partook in one-night-stands with random men she hadn’t seen for over ten years, to be the woman she had tried to be at the club and failed miserably.

  Almost as if he could read her mind, he took her elbow and turned her to face him. “I’m sorry this has been so brief. Perhaps we’ll meet again. Good evening, sweet Eden.” He leaned in and gently brushed his lips against her cheek, reigniting the yearning she had only just managed to get under control. And then he was gone.

  Chapter Five

  Eden gazed out her apartment window. The busy New York City street below her buzzed with movement and the noise traveled up into her apartment, reminding her off the vibrancy of the city she had chosen to try and make her new home. She closed her eyes and murmured his name, “Sebastian Stone.”

  It had been barely two weeks since their encounter in the club, but for Eden it felt like months had gone by. She had finished packing that weekend and had flown to New York two days later, her mind filled with their embrace in the town car and how his hard body had felt pressed up against hers in the club hallway. She had kept it in her mind as she dealt with the reality of returning to her life in America. It was time to stop being Edinburgh Eden and become a new Eden—New York Eden. She fully intended to turn her back on Boston Eden.

  With her trust fund, she’d paid to have an agent find her an apartment and she was happy with it, even though she had to make her final selection from photos and a limited knowledge of the city. Her parents were furious about her decision to move to New York instead of returning to Boston. But the freedom she had felt in Edinburgh was too precious for her to let go of and she needed to maintain the distance from her old life, including her parents.

  At 22, she didn’t need her parents’ permission to do anything, but their relationship with her had changed drastically in recent years and she hadn’t been able to stand up to them as much as she wanted to. It had been a Herculean task to not let them bully her back to Boston.

  Eden had told Dr. Shepherd about Sebastian and, although she didn’t go into explicit detail, she did give away that they had kissed and she had wanted to take it further. Dr. Shepherd felt it was a breakthrough in Eden’s recovery and encouraged her to not be embarrassed or ashamed of her reckless behavior, although he did gently chastise her for getting into effectively a stranger’s town car after only barely finding out his name.

  Her interaction with Sebastian had been so brief, though, that at times Eden felt she had imagined the whole thing. She had thought about it every day since they’d met and she knew she couldn’t let it be the last time, even though, in reality, it most likely was. After all, he was based in Edinburgh, from what she could glean from the quick Internet search she had done on him, and now she was in New York, a thousand miles away. She had found out that he had a security company, with an office in her new city, but from what she could understand, he was not nearly as active in New York.

  As she searched for him online, she slowly remembered that his parents’ divorce had been a particularly brutal one. Eden remembered her mother gossiping about Eliza Stone, that she had done something despicable. Why else would Edward Stone have up and moved back to England, abandoning his wife and only son? Mrs. Stone didn’t have any money of her own, and after being such a steady member of her parents’ social group, she was very quickly expunged from it after her bank account didn’t hold up anymore. A few months later, their house was up for sale and
they were gone.

  Eden’s fantasy of Sebastian finding her in New York was nothing more than that—a fantasy. And furthermore, there was nothing to say that he even wanted to see her again. Yes, that kiss in the car had been intense, but he had walked away from her at the door. He hadn’t even tried to come in and test his luck. He hadn’t asked for her number or any way of contacting her.

  Eden had decided to approach it as Dr. Shepherd had suggested—consider it a breakthrough, a wonderful start to her new life, regardless of the briefness of the encounter.

  Besides the new apartment, she also had a new job. She’d accepted a position as an archival assistant at the Smithsonian Archive’s New York branch. It was only part-time, and the salary was embarrassing compared to what the other women in her formal social circle were earning. But Eden had jumped at the chance. She had loved the brief internship she had done at the Edinburgh Gallery and she knew it was a coup to have the Smithsonian on her resume.

  She ignored the low salary and instead took pride in the position. After her mental makeover in Edinburgh, she had started feeling uncomfortable relying purely on her trust fund. Anything to supplement it was welcome.

  Her parents had given her access to the trust soon after the attack. Part of her knew this was because they were afraid she wouldn’t be able to handle the realities of working life, and she more than appreciated the gesture. Despite her father’s wealth, they had always made it clear to Eden that she would have to make her own way in the world and wouldn’t have access to her trust until she was 30, although they would gladly help her in the first few years after she graduated.

  After the attack, everything had changed. The trust conditions had been amended. She not only had unlimited access, but her parents encouraged her to use it. There had been something else about the sudden access to the trust that made Eden uncomfortable. Whenever she brought it up with her mother, it was quickly dismissed and her mother chastised her for talking about money.

  Eden was torn between wanting to reject the trust fund completely, as she so wanted to do with everything in her former life, but she was acutely aware of her own wants and needs. She wanted to take the job at the Smithsonian, despite the small salary. She wanted to be able to live in a nice apartment and not have to rely on roommates to help pay the rent for some hovel above a fast food restaurant in order to stay in New York. She wanted to have the freedom that the money allowed her. Eden didn’t want to be trapped by her family’s social connections and expectations, but she also didn’t want to be trapped by poverty. She may have been spoiled growing up, but she was certainly not naïve enough to not realize the freedom that money gave her.

  She had discussed the subject extensively with Dr. Shepherd. She felt like a hypocrite and the money did feel dirty. She couldn’t deny the fact that her parents had given her the trust fund early because she was attacked. It tainted the money and she didn’t know how to reconcile the conflict she felt whenever she took out her credit card.

  There was another reason, one that Dr. Shepherd found much more interesting than the guilt about the trust fund. Eden knew that she wouldn’t be able to handle being poor. She had never wanted for anything, ever. She had gone to the best schools, had the best vacations, the best wardrobe, everything had always been handed to her on a plate. She knew how to study hard and commit to things. If anyone knew how extensive her debutante training had been, they wouldn’t question her ability to work hard, but that was not the same as pinching pennies and going without. She never thought twice about what it might cost to do anything. She wasn’t excessively wasteful by any means, but she knew what she wanted, and after 22 years of behaving a certain way, she wasn’t sure she would be able to change the habits of a lifetime. Working hard for something and hard work were not synonymous, and she knew deep down she could only handle the latter.

  Dr. Shepherd had convinced her finally that she had to take one step at a time. It was unrealistic for her to reject the money and expect to establish independence and freedom from her family in one final swoop. She had to take baby steps. Using her trust fund money did not mean she couldn’t at some point in the future make success for herself on her own terms. She could have a career based on merit instead of her father’s connections. She could have true independence. But trying to achieve all that did not mean she should simply turn her back on the money.

  He made her make a list of all the good things she had received from her parents—dedication, strong work ethic, a sense of pride. It was a hard list to make since Eden kept trying to add caveats to all of them—yes, she had learned a strong work ethic, but she had also seen her father sacrifice time with his family in order to make more money. He had also developed a nasty drinking habit and a slight gambling addiction. Yes, she had learned dedication, but to things she wasn’t sure were worthy of it. And yes, she had learned pride, but only by learning what shame was first.

  It took a few weeks, but Eden was finally able to write the list, accepting that these were traits she saw in herself that she felt were important to her. At the bottom of the list, he made her add “money.” She had cried in his office when he told her to write it. But she knew it was true. To reject the money would be reckless. To pretend that she wasn’t lucky to have this opportunity was borderline insane. She had left that day feeling drained, but more liberated that she had in months. She thought about Dr. Shepherd’s words whenever she started to feel guilt about spending the money. “You can let the attack poison everything in your life. You can let what happened frame every experience you have for the rest of your life, making you doubt everything and everyone that comes into your life. Or you can begin to heal.”

  Those words had allowed her to get on the plane to Edinburgh.

  If only she could get Sebastian Stone out of her head!

  Eden had avoided washing her dress, and a few times, she had held it up to her face and breathed in the faint scent of his cologne that remained. It took her back to the town car—his hands in her hair, then caressing her breast and her thigh. She had felt his erection pressing up against her leg. God, she had wanted more. She had wanted him. Eden had never wanted any man. Not like this at least.

  Eden had enjoyed her make-out sessions with Joachim and there had been moments when she’d been mildly turned on. But it had never been a need or a real desire. After she and Joachim started dating, she had realized that what her girlfriends spoke about, the urges they described when trying to resist going all the way in the back of their boyfriends’ cars, didn’t match up with her own feelings. They always seemed so muted, dampened almost. She had started masturbating after that, just to reassure herself that she could actually orgasm. It was only in her senior year of high school, when she found out that several of her girlfriends weren’t actually able to orgasm when they had sex, that she realized most of it was hype. And she stopped worrying that something was wrong with her.

  The sensations her friends were talking about weren’t genuine—most of them were as desperate for an orgasm as she was. Eden succumbed to the fact that the odds were not in her favor for a fulfilling sex life. The attack was simply the final straw. But when Sebastian had touched her, the feeling he had induced in her body was like something out of a romance novel. She had become wet almost even before he kissed her, and the orgasm she gave herself after he had dropped her off at home was the best she’d ever had. Maybe the problem hadn’t been her all along. Maybe it had been that Joachim just wasn’t the right guy. Maybe there was such a thing as chemistry.

  The intercom buzzed, drawing her out of her reverie about Sebastian. She pressed the button, wondering what the front desk wanted. Rick, her doorman, came through the intercom.

  “Miss Maxwell, you have a visitor in reception. A Mr. Sebastian Stone.”

  Chapter Six

  Eden stepped away from the intercom, holding her hand over her mouth. She must have misheard. The intercom buzzed again, repeatedly. She pressed the button once more, trying to gather herself
to speak clearly.

  “Yes, thank you, Rick. Please send him up.”

  Eden couldn’t believe this was happening. How had he found her? She glanced at herself in the mirror in the hall, disappointed to realize that she was a far cry from the demure, silken woman she had been that night. Even with her mini-panic attack, she knew she had looked good that evening. But she had mostly returned to her usual defensive outfit of jeans and top, only with a few variations. As part of New York Eden, she had started wearing v-neck t-shirts that clung to her figure nicely instead of the usual high-necked ones that covered her completely. She’d even unpacked some old sandals with a slight wedge heel. She still felt unprepared for Sebastian.

  Her parents had shipped all her old clothes to her apartment and she was slowly letting herself enjoy dressing up again. But she had made a minimal effort this morning and now she regretted it. Her hair was piled up on her head in a messy bun and she had only just applied some brown mascara. She knew she wouldn’t have time to find some lip-gloss or change into a more attractive top. Instead, she focused on her breathing, shocked that just knowing he was going to be in her apartment in a few seconds was enough to make her wet.

  ****

  Eden held on to the kitchen island, her gaze sweeping across Sebastian’s face. She had strategically placed herself behind the island, keeping it as a buffer between them. She didn’t trust herself enough not to throw herself at him and embarrass them both. While she yearned to pick up where they had left off a week ago, she wanted to know what was going on. How had he found her and what did he want? She hoped it was her, but she had her doubts.

  A man like Sebastian Stone could have any woman he desired, that had been made clear enough during Eden’s brief reading through the celebrity gossip sites. He had been linked to several models and actresses, although she suspected, and hoped, it was mostly tenuous speculation. But still, while she wanted nothing more than to walk across the room, feel his hands on her body, his lips on her own, she controlled herself. And now he was standing in her kitchen, silently watching her with those eyes. He hadn’t spoken a word when she opened the door.