Your Irresistible Love

by Layla Hagen

  To address your concerns:

  1. I’m not like the men you’ve met.

  2. I’m not the “one-night-stand type” either.

  3. I can’t make time stop yet, but I can give it a try.

  See? All things we can work with.

  I smile. I can’t help it as warmth spreads along my nerve endings. This man knows how to charm. Despite everything, I want to let myself be whisked away, even if only by his words. I’m about to type back when Sebastian strolls into my office, sporting a grin the size of Texas.

  “So,” I say.

  “So,” he replies.

  Pulling my eyebrows together, I say with a businesslike tone, “I’m confused by point one in your message. Please expand. How are you not like the men I’ve met?”

  Sebastian crosses the room to me.

  “Well, for one, I’m much better looking.” To his credit, he looks me straight in the eyes as he says this. Also to his credit, he definitely is much sexier.

  With all the confidence I can muster, I reply, “You don’t know that.”

  “I’m fairly certain.”

  Grinning, I huff out a breath, straightening in my chair. “My God, you do have a giant ego.”

  “You said I deserved it.” Sebastian leans into me, as if to make a point.

  Of course, having him so close whips my breath away. Still, somehow I manage to reply, “A mistake I shall not repeat.”

  Seeming to realize his effect on me—and very satisfied by it, judging by his conceited smile—he pulls back. “You didn’t say anything about the other points.”

  “Nothing but words.” I wave my hand dismissively, even though my center throbs. They were good words, but I’m not about to own up to that.

  “I’ll prove it to you.” His low, raspy voice does nothing to dull the ache between my thighs. “I told you I like a good challenge.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ava

  Thankfully, Sebastian leaves my office after our encounter. I’m restless the entire evening and sleep evades me at night. I toss in my bed for hours, checking the time on my phone now and again. At about one o’clock in the morning, I receive a text. The sender is Sebastian. My heart flutters as I draw the phone closer to me.

  Sebastian: Are you asleep?

  I shouldn’t respond. I really shouldn’t. The temptation is too big though.

  Ava: No. I can’t fall asleep.

  He answers fast.

  Sebastian: Neither can I. I can’t take my mind off you.

  I bite my lip, trying hard to ignore the heat igniting inside me.

  Another text arrives.

  Sebastian: Why can’t you sleep?

  For a second, I debate not writing back, but I give in to temptation again.

  Ava: Same reason as you.

  Sebastian: You can’t stop thinking about yourself?

  Smiling, I shake my head. He’s really gonna make me write it. Oh well, here goes nothing.

  Ava: I can’t stop thinking about you.

  My breath catches when I read his next reply.

  Sebastian: I want to see you tomorrow.

  I try to backpedal, because seeing him outside the office is a really, really bad idea.

  Ava: I already have plans. I’m sightseeing in San Francisco.

  Sebastian: Great. I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow.

  I type back quickly.

  Ava: There’s no need. I can go by myself.

  His reply comes in three seconds.

  Sebastian: See you at nine.

  I stare at the screen for a long time, but don’t write back. There’s no point contradicting him. He’ll do exactly what he wants anyway. The problem is I want him to do that. I toss in my bed, sweating. Jesus, I don’t remember being so painfully aware of the ache between my legs in a long time. The feeling grows unbearable, and I briefly wonder if it’s possible to die from it. I can already imagine newspaper headlines. Death by sexual frustration, or something equally ridiculous.

  ***

  I wake up at seven o’clock sharp, even though I set my alarm for eight. Bolting to a sitting position in my bed, I acknowledge the reason behind my early rise: adrenaline. The knowledge that I’ll spend the day with Sebastian makes me grin and spikes my blood with something dangerous and addictive.

  I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face the entire time I’m getting ready. I shower first, using my best-smelling shampoo, and then use the razor to get rid of unwanted hair from my body. I’m aware that I’m putting more effort into looking perfect than I have in a long while. It’s for tonight, I tell myself. The presentation for the buyers is tonight, so I’m preparing myself for the occasion. Great excuse. Except, why would I shave my pubis for the show?

  At nine o’clock, I hear three knocks at my door. Drawing in a deep breath, I open it and thank heaven for having spent the past hours beautifying myself. Sebastian looks perfect. He wears jeans and a black cotton shirt. It’s simple, but it hugs his torso and biceps in a mouthwatering way. His gaze rakes over my body, resting on my breasts and lower on my hips.

  Holding up two brown paper bags, he leans against the doorframe, saying, “I bought breakfast. We can eat it on the way to our first stop.”

  “Okay.” I go toward the desk and grab my purse, then pause, turning to him. “I have one rule for today.”

  “Only one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Let’s hear it.”

  “No flirting,” I say seriously.

  He strokes his chin, as if he were expecting this. “That’s no fun.”

  “Then I’m not going anywhere.” I drop my purse on the table.

  “You drive a hard bargain, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” I cross my arms over my chest, looking at him expectantly.

  “Let’s go, Ava.”

  “Promise.”

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He strides inside the room, slings my purse over my shoulder, and hooks an arm around my waist. “But I can promise you’ll have fun today.”

  Sebastian proves to be a perfect tour guide. I showed him my itinerary when we got in his car, and he nodded, scribbling two more stops on it. Five hours into the tour, and he hasn’t thrown one flirty line my way. Oh, he’s thrown plenty of insinuating stares, and I’ve returned every single one of them, because apparently I can’t stick to my own rules around him.

  We grab a sandwich for lunch and crash on a bench in the Golden Gate Park.

  “Why do you know so much about the city?” I ask, munching on my sandwich. There must be an apricot tree nearby, because the smell of apricots invades my senses. It’s so thick, I feel like I can bite into it and it would taste like Mom’s homemade apricot pie.

  “I live here.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve lived in New York my whole life, and I don’t know that much about it. Kind of embarrassing.”

  Sebastian doesn’t answer right away. “One of my first jobs in San Francisco was as a tour guide. I still remember a lot of that stuff.”

  “Wow. So, what other jobs did you have?”

  “Hmm, let’s see. I was a driver, a waiter.” As he recites a number of other jobs, I take in his body language. He holds his head high. He’s proud of every single job he’s had. Heck, he has every right to be proud; he’s a self-made man. I’m proud of him too.

  “That’s why you treat everyone with respect,” I conclude.

  “I honestly don’t think there is an easy job. I got a lucky break, but others don’t. This doesn’t mean their work is less valuable or easier.”

  I look at him in awe. If only more people thought like him.

  “Ready for the next round?” he asks.

  “Let’s stay for a few more minutes. My feet are killing me.”

  Without any warning, he lifts my legs, pulling my feet into his lap. I lose my balance and prop myself on my elbows on the bench. How did I end up on my back after only half a day with him?

  “What are you doing?” I ask
, as he gets rid of my flats. “Oh, foot massage.”

  “Relax.”

  That’s exactly what I do, letting him work his magic hands on my tired feet in silence. Holy guacamole, this man is perfect. And off limits, unless I want to lose my job, which I can’t afford.

  “You’re spoiling me,” I say.

  “It makes you smile. I like your smile.”

  “Sebastian. . .”

  “Stop saying my name like that.” His voice has turned low and breathy.

  “How am I saying it?”

  “Like you’re begging me to stay away from you and kiss you at the same time.”

  I have no answer, so I look away from him. Even as I try to focus on the beautiful nature surrounding us, I feel my body succumbing to sinful sensations.

  After a few minutes, Sebastian asks, “Do you know that this is the first Saturday I haven’t worked in years?”

  I feel my eyes widen. “Why change that now?”

  He shrugs, as if the answer couldn’t possibly matter. He stops the massage, instead trailing his fingers over my bare ankles, turning my skin to goose flesh. He fixes me with his eyes, burning my control away.

  “I like spending time with you.”

  “I said no flirting.”

  “That’s not flirting. It’s the truth. You have an enthusiasm that lights you up permanently. I feel carefree around you.”

  “Are you seeing someone?” I blurt, attempting to take my feet out of his lap, but he grips them firmly.

  “You’re breaking your own no-flirting rule.” A satisfied grin stretches across his features.

  “It’s not flirting,” I counter. “It’s a question.”

  “I wouldn’t be here with you if I was seeing someone. I’m not a fan of cheating.”

  “Why aren’t you dating anyone?” I ask, not really buying it. He is Sebastian freaking Bennett, the CEO of the most beloved jewelry company in America.

  “I’d date you, but you’re putting up a good fight.”

  “Stop it, Sebastian. You’ll get me fired.”

  He pulls me so abruptly to him my ass almost lands in his lap. I stop short of that, planting my palms firmly on the bench, trying hard not to acknowledge that the only things separating his crotch from the backs of my knees are his jeans and underwear. Unless he’s wearing no boxers. Maybe I should check. Where did that thought come from? I have no business checking if he’s going commando or not.

  “How about I get your boss fired?” he says.

  “You can’t do that,” I murmur.

  “You have no idea.”

  I push myself out of his lap, putting some much-needed distance between us. “Seriously, why are you single? I’ve seen how women look at you. They’d fall in your bed in a second.”

  “Yes, and then they find out who I am.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, genuinely confused.

  He twists the watch on his wrist, rolling his shoulders. “When you have as much money as I do, women start seeing your bank account instead of you.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true. You’re hot—kind of hard to overlook that.”

  “Why, thank you.” The wry grin that melts my insides returns.

  “I’m sure women don’t do you just for your money.”

  “Do me? Why would you do me, Ava?”

  “Hypothetically speaking?”

  “Of course,” he says solemnly.

  “Because you’re fun, kind, and caring.” Realizing this must sound like I want to have your babies to a man, I try to downplay it. “But mostly because you’re hot.” I lick my lips. “I bet you can do some very hot things in bed.” My face reddens. I never meant to say the last sentence out loud; but apparently, my mouth didn’t get the memo from my brain.

  “I can tell you exactly what I’d do to you,” he says, making me shiver. “Hypothetically, of course.”

  “No, thanks.” My voice is undependable, while he looks perfectly composed. Obviously, he’s better at this game than I am.

  “I can assure you, the reality would be much more delicious than you can imagine.”

  I sigh at how much like a promise his words sound. This man won’t tire until he has me, and I’m not sure I mind anymore, risks be damned.

  Clearing my throat, I push myself a few inches from him and say, “See, plenty of reasons for women to want you. They can’t all be after your bank account.”

  “If they aren’t in the beginning, they learn quickly. I’ve been burned plenty of times.”

  “Maybe you’ve gotten burned because you’re too hot. Are you sure you’re not paranoid?”

  “I wish I was. I envy my parents. They had nothing when they were young, but they found each other, fell in love, and stayed that way. Wish things were that simple now, too.”

  I open my mouth to reply, then clamp my lips shut. I’m not sure what to tell him. Sure, I gave up on believing in happily-ever-after too, but that’s because the men I’ve been with couldn’t keep it in their pants.

  Looking to switch the topic, I say, “Look, they’re selling popcorn.”

  Before Sebastian has time to reply, I jump in my flats and run to the popcorn stand. By the time the popcorn guy hands me a bucketful, Sebastian is by my side, opening his wallet.

  “I’ve got this covered,” I say. “You already bought my sandwich.”

  “You won’t pay for anything while you’re with me.” Holding a ten-dollar bill between his fingers, he stretches his arm to the vendor. I block his hand.

  “Sebastian, this is not a date.”

  “Nope, it’s me being a gentleman,” he says. My insides squirm, even as I try to hold my ground.

  “I’m not letting you pay.”

  He looks at me with narrowed eyes. “I’m not asking for permission.”

  I throw my hands up in despair. “Are you going to go caveman on me every time I don’t agree with you?”

  Sebastian drops the money on the counter, telling the vendor to keep the change, and drapes an arm around my waist, pushing me away from the cart.

  “I’d like to go caveman on you somewhere else. I picture us in a bed, you under me. You’d love it.”

  “I thought we said no flirting,” I say weakly.

  “You said that. I never play by anyone’s rules except my own,” he whispers in my ear.

  Thankfully, he says nothing else as we fall into step, heading toward the next stop on my itinerary. I become aware of the throbbing in my feet almost immediately.

  “Let’s do the rest of the itinerary another day. I won’t even be able to stand tonight at the show if I don’t rest my feet. Can you get me back to the apartment?”

  “Sure,” he answers. We walk toward the exit of the park.

  “Your turn,” Sebastian says after a while. We’re nearing the parking lot where we left the car. “Why aren’t you seeing anyone?”

  I deflate at his choice of topic. “Kind of hard with my job. I travel too much and I can’t make long-distance relationships work. My last two exes cheated on me. I’m not keen on repeating the experience, so no more long-distance for me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, I must be doing something wrong,” I say as we reach his car.

  “Don’t you blame yourself.”

  “Fool me once, shame on me.” I smile sadly. “Fool me twice. . .”

  “Listen to me.” He tilts my chin up, pushing me against the closed door. “The world is full of assholes. Just because you’ve encountered a few doesn’t mean you don’t deserve someone better.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “I needed to hear that.”

  “You deserve someone who makes you happy and fulfilled. Someone who worships you.” He watches me with such honesty I have no choice but to believe him.

  “Why do you say all the right things?” I murmur. “It makes resisting you very hard.”

  “So stop resisting me,” he says as he opens the car door for me.

  Once inside, he says, “Le
t’s go up the Twin Peaks. I know it wasn’t on your list, but the view is great from there.” Looking at my shoes, I sigh, but nod.

  We drive up the North Peak, and once we get out of the car, Sebastian hands me a windbreaker. It’s so long it’ll even cover my ass. “Trust me, you’ll want to put this on. It’s much windier here than in the city.” We both put a jacket on, and I follow him to the viewing place. The sun hovers above us, and a sea of mist stretches in front, floating above the city, while a green blanket stretches over the hills in the distance.

  It’s amazing.

  Despite the jacket, I shiver. So when Sebastian slings his arms around my middle, moving his chest against my back, I don’t pull away. I nestle in his arms as if it’s the most natural thing, and he rests his chin in the crook of my neck, his hot breath caressing my skin. I find myself wishing we could stay like this for hours, but all too soon, it’s time to go. Smiling, Sebastian takes my hand, leading me to the car.

  ***

  We drive to my apartment in silence. When we reach it, Sebastian stops the car and gets out. Even though I could easily let myself out, I stay put, choosing to watch him open the door for me. I enjoy being treated like a lady.

  I’m about to tell him I’ll see him on Monday, when a gust of wind rustles my dress. Sebastian’s eyes widen.

  “You’re wearing lace underwear and expect me not to flirt?”

  “You’re not supposed to see it,” I say, horrified.

  “Who is supposed to see it?” he says with a growl.

  I snap my gaze back to him. “What?”

  “You said I’m not supposed to see it.” He places his hands on the hood of the car, trapping me between his mouthwatering biceps. “Who is, then? Who are you wearing lace for?” He’s jealous, and it’s unbelievably sexy.

  “Myself,” I say boldly. “Isn’t a girl allowed to do that?”

  “Mmm, you’re not a girl. You’re a woman. A fucking gorgeous one.”

  “No, I’m not,” I say dismissively.

  His brow furrows. “What?”

  “Well, I’m okay, I guess. Pretty.”

  “You are gorgeous. Just agree with me once, woman.” Leaning into me, he adds, “If you don’t, I’ll kiss you senseless.”