Your Irresistible Love

by Layla Hagen

  Logan and I groan in unison. He gets up. “Okay, it’s time for some adult drinks. Whiskey for everyone?”

  I nod. After a few seconds, so does Pippa.

  “Make mine a double,” I instruct.

  “Go, tiger,” Pippa tells him. We all laugh, but without much humor. The discussion has taken a turn for the serious. Logan shoves the drinks in our hands, and we spend a few minutes in silence, nursing the whiskey.

  “I don’t want to talk about Ava right now,” I say eventually. Logan leans back in his seat, averting his gaze, but Pippa persists.

  “I don’t care. You found a great woman, and as far as I can see, you really let her in.”

  “Yeah, but when I did that, I knew it was only for a while.”

  There’s a loaded pause—a very loaded pause in which I gulp down the entire contents of the glass.

  “Sebastian Bennett,” Pippa says through gritted teeth. “Are you telling me that you only went all in because you thought it was a temporary thing?”

  “What? Yea—No. Maybe? I don’t know. Fuck no. I can’t think straight.”

  “You can’t blame it on the double whiskey,” Logan warns. “You’ve just had it. No one gets drunk so fast.”

  “Burning sun and alcohol isn’t a good combo,” Pippa says. “Recap time. Yes or no, Sebastian?”

  “No, it wasn’t because it’s temporary. It was because. . . I couldn’t help it. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until I was in it up to my head. Over my head, actually.”

  “Good boy.” Pippa pats my arm. “If you’d told me you’re one of those assholes that get the urge to run at the thought of forever, I would’ve beaten the crap out of you.”

  “I’m not like that, you know it. I want to carry on the Bennett name and have my own soccer team of kids; but with only siliconed and botoxed sharks in sight, I gave up on that dream years ago.”

  When I saw her at the soccer game holding baby Adrian, I could practically see our future together. In fact, I see no future without her. This woman has wedged her way into my heart. She’s glorious. And mine.

  Only when Logan sputters his drink and Pippa hugs me, telling me I’m an adorable lion do I realize I’ve actually said at least part of all that out loud. Logan goes to pour himself a fresh glass of whiskey, shaking his head.

  Well, it’s all out there already. She might’ve called me a pink panther for all the manliness adorable lion has to it, but I’ll find a way to pay her back. Not now though. Now I need her help. “What do I do, Pippa? I feel like I’m drowning and she’s not even gone yet.”

  “Fight for your HEA, brother.”

  “I thought you no longer believed in those.”

  She puts her hands in mine, leaning closer. “It didn’t turn out well for me, though God knows I tried. He wasn’t worth it. But Ava is, you know that.”

  “I do. Damn right, I do. I. . . I know it won’t work. She won’t stay.”

  Pippa juts her chin forward, speaking slowly, as if I’m a child. “Then convince her.”

  Logan returns empty-handed. “I changed my mind. No more alcohol. Let’s swim to clear our heads.”

  “You two go,” I say. “I want some time to think.”

  “See,” Pippa tells Logan. “Lion behavior, like I said.” She whisks Logan away before he even opens his mouth, throwing me an encouraging look over her shoulder.

  ***

  Pippa was right. Alcohol and sun is a bad combo. When I stand up, I wobble on my feet, which hasn’t happened in years, so I slump back in my chair. Sometime later, Ava appears on the deck, carrying a heap of something in her arms.

  “There you are,” she says. “Logan told me you’re drunk, but I thought he was messing with me.”

  She walks to me with the shy smile I’ve come to love. Hell, I’ve come to love everything about her, and that’s the problem. How can I let her go now?

  “I like your bikini.” I slur the words so badly, it’s a miracle she understands any of them. She straddles my lap, facing me. Her tits are in my face and her crotch right over mine. I’ll take that any time.

  “I brought shells.”

  “What?”

  She holds up a white shell, looking at it with a bright smile and squinted eyes. “This is so pretty. I swear it changes its color every time I look at it.”

  “Looks white to me.”

  “It is white, but it has these colorful hues. They’re different colors, depending where you’re looking from.” She holds it in the sunlight, tilting her head from one side to the other. Ah, yes, one other thing I can add to the list of things I love about her: the way she can find beauty in the simplest things, and shows me how to do that too. If I weren’t drunk off my ass, maybe I’d see what she means.

  “Where did you find it?”

  “I went snorkeling with Daniel and Blake. We went into a cave and I found this there.”

  “Did they take good care of you?”

  She nods, dropping the shell between us and resting her palms on my chest. “They’re great. And so much fun.”

  “Watch it, I might get jealous.” I run my hands up her thighs to her hips.

  She laughs, tilting her head back, exposing her throat to me. “Of your brothers?”

  “Of any man.” I cup her left breast with one hand. “This is mine.” I slide the other hand into her bathing suit, finding her wet pussy. “This is mine too.”

  She huffs out a breath, her chest heaving up and down.

  “You are mine, Ava, and I won’t let you go.”

  Her eyes widen, and she murmurs, “You really are drunk.”

  “Yeah, but you’re still mine.”

  I kiss her hard, possessing her mouth, my hand cupping her wetness. Entangled with her like this, I make myself a drunken promise: I will not let her go.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ava

  Two weeks to D-day, and everyone’s running around crazily already. I’m definitely leading the crazy pack.

  “Okay, everyone. Let’s start this,” I instruct.

  This is the first rehearsal for the show, and I’m impressed that all the models showed up. The prep team did a wonderful job, and now the girls are ready to hit the runway. They’re wearing mock jewelry, of course. The real items will only be here on the day of the show.

  I sit next to the runway, but don’t look much at the models; Pippa’s in charge of that. I inspect the rest of the decor and the way the technical equipment blends in. I’ve had nightmare issues with shows before, with designers deciding the day before that they want to change the entire color scheme. Luckily, Pippa looks very pleased.

  Finally, content with the decor, I turn my attention to the models. I’m impressed with the high-caliber models they hired for this. The star of the show is Simone Candella, an Italian beauty who took up residence in the United States six years ago. Watching her stroll on the runway, I understand the world’s fascination with her. She’s the personification of beauty. Her waist-long black hair and tan skin give her an exotic air, making her striking blue eyes nothing short of mesmerizing. A visible dash of arrogance accompanies her every move, but that’s to be expected.

  Midway through the rehearsal, I notice a shift in the models’ behavior. They smile more, occasionally winking at something behind me. Baffled, I turn around and find Sebastian there. I let out an audible groan. Both Pippa and Sebastian laugh.

  “What are you doing here, brother?” Pippa whispers over her shoulder. “You haven’t been at a rehearsal in years.”

  “Thought I’d take a break, delight my eyes with some beauty.” He looks at me pointedly, and heat rushes to my cheeks. I know he’s teasing me, but I feel a tiny pang of jealousy.

  As the rehearsal progresses, the models become bolder, giving him hot looks. Out of the corner of my eye, I peer at Sebastian, who wanders around the room. To my astonishment, he’s not looking at the runway, instead inspecting the lighting equipment.

  Finally, he sits next to me and says, “T
his is going to be our most expensive show.”

  “The buzz around it got you enough partners to offset the cost.”

  “I know. You’re a genius.”

  Pride swells inside me at his words. Shortly afterward, we take a break. The models wear robes, milling around, drinking nothing but water, even though the catering company also brought model-approved food like salads and low-calorie everything.

  Sebastian speaks in a hushed voice to Pippa, still ignoring all the hot looks he gets. He speaks to the technician who’s behind all the magic that will happen during the show, especially the opening stunt. Since Sebastian and I aren’t displaying our relationship (very) publicly, we try to keep our distance to what would pass as professional interest.

  Pippa walks to me and says in a low voice, “Looking at these girls makes me feel bad about all those cupcakes I eat.”

  “You look great,” I reassure her.

  “I like my body, though I have my unfavorable spots, but it’s hard to look at them and not get self-conscious.”

  Silently, I agree.

  “I mean, look at Simone. She’s practically perfect,” Pippa says. “Well, she’s a total bitch, but other than that. . . Anyway, I wanted to ask you something else. I need to change something.”

  Oh, crap. I knew it. Here it comes.

  “The dress Lily wears the second time she comes out isn’t right.”

  I wait for the blow—something like—oh, and I want the entire color scheme changed, but Pippa seems to be done with the requests.

  “I know a designer put the models’ looks together,” she continues, “but I trust you. You have excellent taste in clothing. Would you mind looking backstage? Maybe you’ll find something more suitable?”

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll bring you a few other choices you can look at and decide.”

  “Perfect.” With a chuckle, she adds, “Look at my brother. He came just to see you. He hates coming to these things. Models are drawn to him like moths to a flame.”

  “They are, aren’t they?” I ask with a dry mouth.

  “I give him five minutes before he bolts, or goes to another room,” she adds in a low, conspiratorial tone.

  ***

  The prep room smells like overheated hair spray. It’s empty right now, since all the stylists are at the buffet. The clothes are stuffed in an adjacent room, which also houses a couch. There are hangers upon hangers with clothes, and I head to the back of the room, where I spot two hangers chock-full of cocktail dresses. Browsing through them, I find four that’d be appropriate.

  Suddenly, I hear voices from the front of the room. I hadn’t even realized someone was there. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I instinctively bend my knees and duck, hiding behind the hanger.

  “Sebastian Bennett, what a surprise to see the CEO himself here. You’ve never joined the rehearsals before,” a woman says. Her voice is throaty and low. Simone. A sinking feeling forms in my stomach, my heart suddenly weighing a hundred pounds. I saw the way she ogled Sebastian; and she’s so beautiful.

  “It was about time I paid a visit,” he says.

  I look around for a way to escape. Damn it, there is no way out except through the door I came through, and they’d see me immediately. With trembling hands, I part two dresses, looking between them. I have a direct view of the back of Sebastian’s head. He sits on the couch while Simone stands in front of him. She’s wearing nothing but a robe, and her stance is provocative, revealing too much of her generous cleavage and perfectly toned legs.

  “Like anything you see?” she asks. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes. This can’t be happening to me. I can’t witness my man cheating on me. Again. I simply can’t take it. . . not from Sebastian. My heart grows so heavy, I feel like I’m choking. I bite my forearm, afraid a sob might come out, giving me away. How much bad luck can I have? Isn’t it dreadful enough that I walked in on my ex, John, doing it with that ho? Do I now have to watch the man to whom I’ve given myself completely do this here? My eyes water. Damn it, I don’t want to cry. This can’t be happening. I must look away and cover my ears. Yeah, that’s what I should do. But like the masochist I am, I keep looking. This is like watching a car wreck, only now I see my life getting wrecked.

  “I’m not here for any of this.” Sebastian’s voice is brisk, but it does nothing to calm me. Sweat dots my palms. I tug at my lower lip with my teeth.

  “Oh, really? I bet I can change your mind.”

  “Listen—what is your name?”

  “Simone.”

  “Listen, Simone, I don’t get involved with people I work with.”

  “Why not make an exception? Don’t you like what you see? I won’t tell if you don’t. It’ll be our secret.”

  “You are a beautiful woman, but I’m really not interested.”

  “Ah, you’re playing hard to get. That’s no problem. I can make you hard in an instant.”

  “Simone, please return to your work.”

  “Let me suck you off,” she says in a very seductive voice, letting her bathrobe fall to the floor. She’s completely naked. “You can come all over me if you want to.”

  Sebastian rises to his feet, Simone’s robe in his hand.

  “Put this on. Now,” he commands.

  I don’t dare to breathe. Simone puts on her robe.

  “I can give you my number and we can meet after work,” she says.

  “I will tell you this one last time. I am not interested in you. If you don’t stop this right now, I will have your contract with our company dissolved.”

  Simone steps back as if Sebastian’s cracked a whip in front of her.

  “Get over yourself, Bennett. I can sue you for sexual harassment.”

  Sebastian laughs. “Please, try. I can afford the best lawyers. They will destroy you in court. I’ll make sure no one hires you again. Ever. You know I have the power to do that.”

  Simone whirls on her heels and leaves the room.

  I blink, stunned. He actually told her no? My mind must be playing tricks on me. She’s the most beautiful model I’ve ever seen, and she practically offered herself to him on a silver platter. Relief washes over me, and I begin—of all things—to sob.

  Sebastian turns around, startled, and heads straight to the back of the room. To me. I pull myself to my full height.

  His eyes widen. “Ava, what. . . Were you here the entire time?”

  “I didn’t mean to. I came here to search for some clothes,” I babble, speaking so quickly I’m afraid he won’t understand a word. “I didn’t hear you come in, and I didn’t have a way to get out. I wasn’t spying, or. . .” I take a deep breath, fighting tears. “It’s not my fault.”

  “What isn’t? Babe, you’re not making sense. Talk to me. I want to understand.”

  I can’t open my mouth, because if I do, I’ll break down. It was always my fault. With Trey, it was my fault that I traveled so much. He had no choice but to cheat. With John, it was my fault that I wanted to surprise him on our anniversary. I mean, who goes to their boyfriend’s apartment without calling first? They always blamed me.

  Sebastian puts his arms around me, snapping me back to reality.

  “Shhh, Ava, relax. Why are you trembling?”

  “You told Simone no?” The words come out as a question.

  “Of course I did.”

  “You didn’t even hesitate.” I still can’t believe it.

  “I had no reason to. I have you.”

  I breathe in and out rapidly, searching for words to tell him how much this means to me. He’s single-handedly restored my faith in humanity. I hadn’t had any idea I had lost it so completely, until I thought I was losing him too.

  “You’re a great man, Sebastian,” is all I can whisper, though it doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel for him. Someone calls my name outside, and I pick out the dresses I chose earlier, carrying them on my forearm. I want to stride toward the door, but Sebastian remains in front of me, blocking my way.
>
  “Ava. Wait.”

  “The crew outside needs me.”

  “They can wait a few more minutes. Why do you want to avoid me? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, absolutely nothing.”

  He tilts my head up, looking at me with desperation. Oh, damn. How do I explain this to him without coming across as a clingy, insecure little girl? This isn’t me. I’m a strong woman. I didn’t have a privileged upbringing, and I had to fight for everything. I don’t regret it, and I am proud of how far I’ve come. But after being cheated on twice, my confidence in this department vanished into thin air. I can do a lot of things. Put a campaign together from the ground up? Check. Make my clients gain a significant advantage over the competition in just a few short months? Check. Make a man love me enough to keep it in his pants around other women? Im-freaking-possible. Or so I thought, until Sebastian.

  “That’s the thing. You’re too perfect. If I stay in here with you one minute longer, I might say something silly.”

  “Like what?” he asks, exasperation on his beautiful features.

  “Like, I love you.” I catch my breath.

  His frown melts into the sweetest smile. “Let’s be silly together. I love you, too, Ava.”

  “You do?” My knees weaken. As if realizing that, Sebastian wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to him. I rest my hands on his chest.

  “Yes, and I’d never cheat on you. That’s not the kind of man I am. It’s a privilege loving you.”

  “Oh.”

  He kisses me with tenderness, his hands cupping my cheeks and drawing me up to him. His arms give me warmth and a sense of safety. God, this feels so wonderful, so absolutely wonderful, that I don’t want to worry about anything. My eyes brim with tears. I’ve never felt so cherished or loved.

  Our kiss grows more urgent, and Sebastian pushes me further, until we reach a wall. Unhitching his lips from mine, he kisses my neck, dropping his hands to my thighs, his fingers lifting my dress until they touch my bare skin. I shiver, heat pooling between my legs.