by Stella James
“Okay,” she sighs. “I am happy for you Anna, but if he hurts you I’ll end his life. Violently.”
The gentle sound of a chime interrupts us as the instructor walks in and class begins. We warm up slowly but by the time the hour is up, my legs feel wobbly and a thin sheen of sweat coats my skin. We roll up our mats and walk to the lobby, making plans to have another girls’ night the weekend after next. It’s getting close to supper time, so I decide to head down to Allessia’s and grab some takeout for Sebastian and I. I swing by the park to see Jack, giving him the Tupperware container with some leftovers from Esme’s on my way to the bistro.
I walk through the front door and it looks like I came at just the right time as only a few tables are occupied. I place my order with Ashley out front before I spot Stephanie in the kitchen and she waves me back.
“You look different,” she observes, when I walk through the swinging door. “Like you’re glowing.”
“I just came from yoga with Dru and Elle,” I explain.
“No…that’s not it,” she says, eyeing me up. “Okay. Who is he?”
“How do you do that?”
“It’s a gift,” she shrugs with a smile. “Now spill, who’s the lucky guy?”
I tell her about Sebastian while she prepares our dinner. She peppers me with a thousand questions before she’s satisfied and I’m able distract her by asking how everything’s been going.
“I took your advice and posted an ad on campus,” she says. “I now have a part-time manager who helps me deal with all that paperwork nonsense.”
“That’s good!”
“Yeah, now if only George Clooney would come and sweep me off my damn feet, I’d be set,” she says.
“Never say never,” I smile.
We continue to chat about work and I give her a few more small details regarding Sebastian before she packs my order up and I’m out the door.
I pull up to the old warehouse where Sebastian rents his studio and swing open the heavy door. He’s standing at the large wooden table off to the side, carefully wrapping an assortment of coloured mugs before placing them in a padded box.
“Sebastian!” I shout above the blaring sound of Tom Petty.
He looks up and smiles, grabbing the remote and turning the music down. He walks toward me and leans down, pressing his lips to mine in a firm and very welcomed kiss.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I’m sorry, I should have called first,” I say. “I thought you could take a break and we could eat?”
“Don’t be sorry, you never have to call,” he assures me. “And yes, I’m starving.”
I set us up a little picnic at the small coffee table in the makeshift living room area near the corner of the room while he tapes up the last box and washes up.
When we finish eating, Sebastian takes our garbage and I wander around his studio, admiring the various stages of each of his projects. The lovely, natural scent of mossy earth invades my senses as I walk around the large wheel and over to the work bench where several completed items are waiting to get boxed up. I carefully pick up a delicate tea cup and trace my fingertips along the smooth surface. It’s bright yellow with a glossy finish and sits on top of a matching saucer. I feel a blush rise up my neck as I marvel at how hands as large and rough as Sebastian’s can also be capable of making something so dainty, and with such precision.
I don’t need to turn around to know that he’s walked back into the room, I can feel his eyes on my back. My heart skips a beat and the tea cup resting in my hand begins to shake ever so slightly. I place the cup back on the bench when I feel the heat of his body behind me.
“These are beautiful,” I tell him.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, placing my loose braid over my shoulder.
His mouth pressing firmly onto the back of my neck sends a blanket of goosebumps over my skin. Desire pools between my legs as I spin around slowly to face him. I take one large hand in mine and bring it up to my mouth, pressing my lips to his knuckles.
“I love your hands,” I say, my mouth hovering above his rough skin. “I love what they do to me, and how they make me feel. And I love that they are responsible for creating such lovely things.”
I gently nip the pad of his thumb and watch with satisfaction as his eyelids fall heavy and he looks down at me with desire.
“Goddamn, freckles,” he grumbles as he places his hands on my shoulders and guides me back against the brick wall. “You’re killing me,” he groans, tangling his fingers in my hair as he guides my lips up to meet his.
His mouth on mine is firm and commanding, coaxing my lips to part as his tongue slides against mine and a moan lingers in the back of my throat. The minute Sebastian touches me, he incinerates me. His palm massages my breast and gently pinches the hardened tip through my tank top. He pulls his mouth from mine and grazes his teeth down the column of my throat, groaning as he licks and nips a path down to my chest.
“Too many clothes, Anna,” he scolds, reaching for the hem of my top and peeling it up and over my head. “Fuck, every part of your body tastes good.”
I reach for his shirt and mimic his desperation; he then adds my black sports bra to the pile. When he presses me back against the rough wall and my heavy breasts press against his chest, I wrap one leg around his and shamelessly grind myself against his hardening erection.
“I need you,” I say. “Sebastian.”
“Fuck, I love it when you say my name,” he groans.
He reaches for the button on his jeans and frees himself, kicking off his pants and shoes before his hands are back on me and he’s guiding me to the plush armchair in the corner of the room. He sits down and scoots to the edge, holding me by the hips in front of him. His molten stare meets mine as my heart thrums in my chest and he rolls my yoga pants down my legs, followed by my black thong. He dips his head forward and presses his mouth to my stomach before tugging me onto his lap. His erection is nestled between my thighs as he trails his fingertips along the sides of my ribcage.
“Christ, you’re already wet,” he says, once again guiding my mouth down to his.
I slide myself along his length as he takes my lips in a bruising kiss. His hands are everywhere. Caressing, gripping, making me feel more wanted than I ever have and giving me the confidence to be as bold as I want to be. I lean into him, brushing my lips against his jaw and up to his ear.
“Sebastian,” I breathe. “I want to feel you.”
I lift my hips up and wrap my hand around him, guiding his velvet tip to my aching centre. I slide down, relishing in the fullness and the way the grip of his hands tighten on my hips. I pause after the last inch of him is buried inside of me and place my palms on either side of his face, capturing his eyes with mine. I slowly begin to rock my hips back and forth. No longer able to hold his stare, my head tilts back and I give myself over to the feeling of him inside me. I move slowly but with certainty, there’s no rush in the rhythm of my hips. Every deliciously sinful inch of him hits every part that I need him to and when a deep groan grumbles in his chest, the vibration echoes around me.
“Fuck Anna, don’t stop, keep riding my cock,” he mumbles, bringing one hand around to my backside and giving me one swift smack.
Pleasure courses through my veins, and when he roughly massages the plump flesh that he just struck, I lean forward and press my body closer to his. I try with everything I have to mold myself closer to him, desperate to prolong the countless sensations running wild inside of me.
“Do it again,” I whisper on a moan, surprising myself. “Please.”
He pauses for less than a second before his palm connects with my still stinging flesh for the second time, and every nerve ending within me short circuits. My hips buck forward, my pace quickening. Every thrust brushes my swollen clit, his rough hands continue to grip me tight, helping me to drag myself back and forth until my body tenses and a rush of relief overpowers me. I slump forward, my body melting in
to him as he thrusts up in harsh, quick strokes until his face is buried in my neck and he’s groaning a curse against my sweat covered skin.
“Fuck,” he sighs. “You fucking undo me, Anna.”
I manage to push myself off him. Considering his eyes and seeing the honesty of his words makes my belly flutter.
“Ditto,” I say, pressing my lips to his.
I don’t know how long we sit in that old chair before Sebastian turns me and places his arm beneath my knees. He carries me to the small bathroom and stands me in front of the mirror. Carefully, he takes a warm washcloth and swipes it intimately between my legs. He cleans me, coddles me and makes me feel like I’m the most important thing in the entire world.
*
I hang up the phone on my desk and breathe a sigh of frustration. This is the third time I’ve tried calling Jay Kent to schedule a meeting so that we can talk about Darius, and the third time that I haven’t made it past his secretary. Apparently, he’s in a meeting that cannot be interrupted. Again.
“Any luck?” Melinda asks, emptying the dust pan into the trash.
“No,” I say. “I really wanted to get this over with before the end of recess. His secretary won’t pull him from his meeting. I hate ambushing parents but I’m going to just have to do it today when he picks Darius up.”
“Personally, I enjoy a good ambush,” she grins. “Besides, he’s one of the nicer parents and I’m sure he’ll just be grateful that you’re taking the time to talk. But I’d give him shit about his strict ass secretary if I were you.”
“Yeah, I’ll mention it,” I sigh. “Ugh, I hate this part of my job,” I whine.
“I know honey, but it’ll be fine,” she says.
For the last several days, Darius, who has been one of the nicest boys in class, has been steadily picking on several other kids. It’s very out of character for him and I’m almost positive it has to do with something at home. I told Jay I’d keep an eye on him and I’d like to help get this behaviour sorted out before it becomes worse.
The recess bell rings and the kids come filing back into the classroom, red faced and breathless. Melinda and I fill the last two hours of the day with crafts and a story and soon the end of the day bell rings. I keep Darius behind and tell him to work on his printing while we wait for his dad. Twenty minutes later, Jay knocks on the door, looking rumpled and slightly embarrassed.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he says. “I was in meetings all day and the last one ran late. Are you ready to head home bud?”
“There was something I wanted to talk to you about,” I say. “Darius, why don’t you keep working on your booklet and your dad and I are just going to chat over here for a minute, okay?”
He nods and continues on with his work as I guide Jay to the corner of the classroom. I explain Darius’s recent behaviour and my attempt at reaching him today.
“Christ,” he says. “I’m sorry Anna, I’ll talk to Tracy about making sure your calls come through. And I’m sorry about Darius, I promise I’ll talk to him.”
“Is it totally unrealistic to maybe have both you and your ex-wife come in for a meeting? I only ask because I think if maybe we can all get on the same page, it will be more beneficial for Darius. And effective.”
“His mother doesn’t have time for anything that doesn’t revolve around her,” he says bitterly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be putting that on you, but I know this has something to do with her. She’s still going on about boarding school and according to Darius she’s got a new boyfriend already.”
“I’m sorry,” I offer. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to share a child after a divorce. I really just want Darius to succeed,” I say.
“I appreciate that, truly I do,” he says. “I’ll speak to him and see if I can get anywhere.”
“He really is a great kid,” I tell him. “Do you have any family in the city? Anyone that can help out?”
“My father isn’t exactly the most doting grandfather,” he says. “I have a brother, but we aren’t close, it’s…complicated.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t,” he assures me. “I really appreciate you taking the time to speak to me.”
“Of course, I don’t mind at all,” I say with a smile. “We’ve only got about a month left before summer holidays and I was thinking if you’re interested I’d gather some info from the community centre downtown for summer day camps and programs. I bet Darius would have a great time, and I don’t know what your childcare situation is when there’s no school…Anyways, I thought it might be helpful,” I say, cringing slightly that I might be overstepping my boundaries.
“That would be great, thanks,” he says. “Well, I guess we should get home and let you get out of here.”
He gathers Darius and once they’ve left I spend a few minutes puttering around the classroom, straightening the bookshelf and the craft bins. My phone buzzes on my desk and when I pick it up I see a picture of Sebastian holding a package of spaghetti and a jar of marinara sauce.
Sebastian: I might burn the whole building down trying to impress you.
Me: I’m already impressed by you, no need for casualties.
Sebastian: Nonsense. I’m going to cook you supper and then I’m going to lick every inch of your sweet tasting pussy.
I type my response as a furious blush covers me from the neck up.
Me: Hmmm…I’m going to have to think about that. Maybe I want to lick you instead ;)
I gather my things and step outside when he finally responds and that silly grin is back on my face.
Sebastian: Dammit freckles.
Chapter 12
Sebastian
“Consider me impressed,” Anna whispers in my ear as she walks back to her table of students.
I can’t help the way the corners of my mouth tilt up into the type of lovesick grin that just a few months ago, I would have scoffed at. The light scent of her perfume lingers in the air and it takes me a second to get my head back to the ten year olds sitting in front of me.
When Anna asked me a few days ago if I’d come with her and her foster mother to Linden House, a youth group home downtown, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I’ve done free pottery lessons for kids at a few different community centres before and knowing that it would put a smile on Anna’s beautiful face seemed like a win-win. Right now, I’m showing my group how to make pinch pots out of a smooth ball of clay. A great beginner project that I use often because it doesn’t require any equipment.
I remember when I was fourteen and in the pits of private school hell. I hated the uniforms, the formalities and the fact that I knew I was being groomed for a lifestyle that I didn’t want. I begged my parents to let me go to public school, but my father wouldn’t hear it. My mother tried to play diplomat but essentially, as much as she loved me, she knew that my father wouldn’t budge and instead worked out a compromise. I’d continue to attend private school, but I could choose any extracurricular activity that I wanted. I chose an art class because I knew my father would hate that one the most. I was cocky and arrogant and had no actual appreciation for art and was mostly just hoping to meet girls. I couldn’t and still can’t paint or sketch worth shit. But the minute we began a course on pottery and sculpting and I laid my cockiness on the line, something clicked and I knew that I was meant to create things, as cliché as it sounds. I’m still grateful that my art teacher managed to see through my arrogance and took the time to teach me everything I wanted to know.
I glance over at Anna as she helps her group with their homework, watching her as she patiently answers questions and offers an encouraging smile to a girl who looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here. She looks up and holds my stare, smiling softly and blushing lightly before she looks away.
Just as I’m about to explain how to add texture to the molded clay, a woman walks into the room carrying a plastic bin full of muffins and I swear every single kid in the room rushes over to her before she e
ven sets the bin on a table. Once the crowd of kids thins out, Anna comes over and takes my hand, leading me to who I assume is Esme.
“Sebastian, this is Esme Dixon,” she says with a smile. “Esme, this is Sebastian Miller.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” I say.
“So, you’re the young man who has put the stars in my Anna’s eyes,” she says.
Anna blushes and nudges Esme’s side, rolling her eyes as the older woman waves off her embarrassment.
“I would certainly love to take the credit for that,” I say, flashing a cocky grin at Anna who snorts and shakes her head.
“Hmm. I think you’ll fit in just fine, Sebastian,” Esme says, handing me a chocolate chip muffin. “Go be useful dear, you can come over for brunch next weekend and meet the rest of the family.”
I take a large bite and groan my approval, earning me a smile from Esme and a dramatic eye roll from Anna. I turn and head back to my group, Anna close behind me.
“Well played,” she says.
“Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when you blush, freckles?” I ask quietly, dipping my head down to hers.
“No,” she breathes softly.
I press my lips to hers quickly, speaking low enough so that only she can hear. “So fucking sexy,” I say.
“Go be useful,” she grins, her cheeks turning pink. “Maybe later tonight I’ll show you something really sexy,” she says in a low voice before turning around walking back to her table.
*
I pause before I enter the kitchen, watching Anna as she stands at the counter, chopping up vegetables. Her hair is still wet from the shower we just had, her legs and feet bare, the only thing covering her up is one of my old T-shirts that hangs to her knees. My chest pulls tight, watching her. A feeling that I haven’t had in years. Correction, a feeling I haven’t let myself have in years. She’s got her iPod hooked up on the counter, humming along with The Lumineers, her favourite band. It should freak me out, seeing her in my space, with her things. But it doesn’t.
